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dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years

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Daddy Issues | Draco Malfoy

Wow I’m sorry I didn’t mean to disappear like that Lovelies! Sometimes I forget depression and writers block are a thing until they punch me in the face and force me to go MIA for a hundred years! I guess I’m back? I hope? Fingers crossed? Anyway, I’m sorry this isn’t a TVD fic but I figured Y’all would appreciate something over nothing. I missed you all more than I can say! I hope you enjoy, I love you all!

Description: Draco and y/n are best friends until Draco’s father threatens y/n. She avoids Draco until he confronts her.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: Like none, it’s kinda sad but not really, the only flaw is bad writing

Word count: 3.4k

Tags: Angst, FLUFF

(not my gif, I just love it lol)

Your heart stings from across the courtyard, the gap between you and the blonde boy tangible. For a second you don't know whether or not your heart is even in your chest anymore or if it’s in his hands. In that case your heart is sitting on a bench, sandwiched between Blaise Zabini and Vincent Crabbe. Maybe he isn’t holding your heart, though, maybe he is your heart, in which case you’re avoiding your heart’s piercing gaze.

Your hands twitch at your sides, itching to grab his or to twist through his silky hair or do anything other than lay idle when he is only mere steps away from you. Your hands ache to touch him and usually you would be doing just that: clinging to his robes or twisting the rings around on his fingers or simply tangling your own fingers with his slender ones. Your hands feel painfully empty without him to hold on to.

That makes sense though, he’s your best friend after all. You’re rarely ever spotted less than five feet away from each other. Everyone at Hogwarts can see how utterly entwined you are, every part of him wrapped around your finger and every part of you sitting precisely in the palm of his hand. You orbit each other, drawn in by a gravity that the rest of the student body can’t deny.

Right now, though, that gravity is being tested and everyone feels a little bit like they’re floating away.

Draco sits exactly seventeen feet and four inches away from you. You can feel his eyes on the back of your head, like lasers, searing into your black and gold jumper and refusing to look away. It burns but you embrace it, taking any contact, even imagined, that you can get from him. Even if it hurts. You would gladly burn for the blonde Slytherin if it made him happy. This doesn’t make him happy, though, being ignored by the girl that commands his entire life. You know that, but you also know that it’s for the best.

You run your hands through your hair, tugging on the strands relentlessly and closing your eyes. You see his father, the tall, grim man, and replay the conversation you had in your head.

“He has a bright future ahead of him, y/n.”

Lucious had backed you into a corner, both metaphorically and literally, the stone of the castle biting harshly into your skin, “I know that, sir.”

He stood tall, menacingly, like he was bigger than the castle itself, “he doesn’t have time for nonsense, y/n.”

Your hands trembled, the cold of the dungeon nipping at them fiercely, “he’s very bright, Mr. Malfoy, I don’t think I’m slowing him down.”

The neutral, if not cold, expression on his face switched then to one of red hot anger, “did I ask what you think? It’s time the two of you separate. He is to be married next year and not to some silly Hufflepuff girl.”

“We’re just friends, sir,” your eyes had long since found the floor.

“Don’t be daft, my son is infatuated with you. If I catch you near him from this day on I will not hesitate to destroy you, do you understand me? Do not speak to him again.”

That was two weeks ago and you haven’t dared to go near him since, spending every waking moment of your spare time in the Hufflepuff common room. You aren’t brave, you didn’t march up to your best friend and tell him that his father threatened to destroy you. You would be lying if you said you even thought about it. The reality of it is that you’re a coward and have iced Draco out in fear of having his father hurt either of you.

His father’s words still ring in your head. Don’t be daft, my son is infatuated with you. Your heart flutters hard in your chest, your rib cage the only barrier keeping it from finding him across the courtyard. Draco is infatuated with you. Apparently. He hasn’t said so, only his father. Still, you can’t help but hope that it’s true.

But then that makes your chest burn and palms sting again. You aren’t allowed to hope that Draco wants you. You aren’t even allowed to hope that he wants to be your friend. You’re not allowed anywhere near him, let alone allowed to kiss him. Would he even kiss you? Probably not. You tug even harder on your hair, as if pulling each strand out will somehow take the pain away. Don’t be daft.

“Y/n,” gentle hands wrap around your tight fists, “you’re hurting yourself.”

You forgot Luna was there, sitting next to you on the bench, the bench that is seventeen feet and four inches away from Draco. You let the airy Ravenclaw unravel your fingers and hold one of your hands, rubbing circles on the back of your palm. It doesn’t feel the same, her grip is too soft, her fingers too short. Draco’s fingers are longer.

You shake your head, trying to clear the fog of him from your senses, “sorry, I know I’m not the best company right now.”

Luna only smiles at you and rolls her eyes gently, “I know it’s hard for you right now.”

Of course you told her. You weren’t able to tell Draco so you turned to Luna, your other best friend. You nod your head at the blonde girl, too tired to speak.

“I think you should tell him though, he looks bloody miserable without you,” your eyes widen as if on their own accord.

You feel dizzy at the thought and not the good kind like when Draco spins you around. No, this is the bad kind of ‘I’m definitely going to throw up’ dizzy. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears rapidly. Thump, thump, thump. It almost sounds like footsteps, angry ones, pounding towards you. That can’t be right.

“I can’t tell him, Luna, you know that.”

A hand lands on your shoulder, warmth spreading through your jumper. You open your mouth, ready to thank Luna for relentlessly comforting you, but close it quickly when a thought hits you. You glance down to your lap, just to double check. There, on your lap rests your hand carefully wrapped up in both of Luna’s. Crap.

“What can’t you tell me?” It takes everything in you to not let his familiar voice curl around you and pull you further into his touch.

You shift out of his hold, not turning to look at him yet, afraid to see the expression on his face. Would it be anger? Sadness? Disgust? The last one makes your heart drop, the thought of the blonde boy being repulsed by you causing you to curl into yourself slightly. You would take anything from him but that.

You stand curtly, turning to face Draco, all too aware of the lack of space between you and him. Six inches at the most, every breath he takes makes his chest brush yours. You still don’t look up at him, not anywhere ready to meet the eyes of the boy you’ve been avoiding.

You lock your eyes on his silver and green tie, mumbling to it instead of him, “What makes you think I was talking about you, Draco?”

You finally glance up at him and wish you hadn’t. His eyes, usually a bright blue, are dull and rimmed with red. The bruises under his eyes stand out against his cheeks. He’s always had dark circles but this is extreme. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days, like he hasn’t eaten in days. It’s almost garish, but then again nothing could ever make the Slytherin Prince look anything less than perfect. He looks destroyed, almost as if his father had gotten to him too. You have to stop yourself from reaching out, choosing instead to look away again.

“Are you serious right now? Tell me this is all a joke y/n!” The courtyard goes silent when Draco raises his voice.

You squeeze your fists, the tone of his voice a punch in the gut. He never shouts at you. Draco is never anything but soft around you. Right now, however, he’s seething. No one around you dares to make a sound.

You close your eyes, trying desperately to stop a traitorous flood of tears, “Draco, please don’t do this right now.”

Draco takes a step back, as if your words had shoved him, “if not now then when? You’ve given me no choice! You run every time you see me, you don’t answer my notes. Do you even read them anymore? Can you just explain why you bloody hate me?”

His voice cracks when he says hate, like its acid in his mouth. In any way it’s acid to your ears. You could never hate Draco, it’s very much the opposite actually. You’re painfully in love with him.

“I don’t,” you have to pause to clear your throat, trying to rid the lump, “I could never hate you.”

His hand grasps you chin gently, his rings cold against your skin as he pulls your face up to meet his eyes, “then tell me what’s going on. Please.”

You squeeze your eyes close, sinking into the warmth of his palm for a moment. You can’t remember a time you’ve gone this long without the blonde boy touching you. You can’t stop the tears from trailing down your cheeks and into his palm. You can feel the hitch in his breath as if it had come from your own lungs. You wrap your own hands around his, squeezing his fingers gently before pulling them away from you.

“I can’t, Dra. We can’t do this anymore. I’m,” your voice trembles, your eyes still closed, his hand still locked in yours, “I’m not good for you. We can’t be friends.”

You release his hand, taking a few steps back from the love of your life. This time, though, he doesn’t let you get as far, taking two steps towards you for every step you take away from him. It doesn’t take him long before he’s in front of you again, closer and even more determined. His eyes burn into yours, his hands restless. You know he wants to touch you. At least, you hope he does. You want to.

“Don’t say that,” there’s a strength behind his words, one you have yet to hear until now, “don’t you dare say that! Tell me what’s going on y/n, you need to tell me! I can fix it. I can make it better whatever it is just please tell me. Please, love.”

Love. That’s new. Your heart cracks even more when he says it and maybe that’s because you know you won’t get to hear it again. You wish you could grab the word from his lips and hold on to it. You want to put it in your pocket so at least you can have a part of him, the very best part of him, for when he walked away. But you can’t, so there’s no use in trying.

“You can’t fix it this time, Draco,” you take another step back and your back hits the rough surface of a tree.

He fills the space between the two of you once more and this time you’re stuck. Your palms continue to sting, reminding you relentlessly how much you need to touch him. You scrunch the hem of your jumper, trying desperately to quell the pain. Your wrists feel like they’re on fire, something you’ve come to realise that means you’re about to have a panic attack. He can't see that happen, you refuse to fall apart in front of him.

Of course he notices, though. That’s your Draco, he notices everything about you. That’s his job.

He grabs your face again, stopping you from frantically looking everywhere but him, “of course I can. When have I not fixed your problems? Remember when those Ravenclaws’ were messing with you? I took care of that, didn’t I? And Parkinson? Zabini? I took care of them too. Remember when Snape wouldn’t let you hand in your assignment because you had the flu? And the time you passed out in the stairwell? I fixed those too because I can. Because I wanted to and I do what I want. Now, all I’ve wanted for days is you so if someone said something to you I need you to tell me so I can sort them out and get my best friend back. Now.”

He stares into your eyes the entire time, daring you to turn away. You feel like you can’t breathe, your hands once again wrapped around his but this time clinging for dear life. You’ve been terrified for two weeks and the exhaustion hits you in one, whopping punch to your stomach, the second punch of the day. Without warning your legs give out, all of your weight falling into the blonde who seems to expect it. His arms wrap around you, holding you against his chest for the first time in what feels like ages.

You don’t realise that you’re sobbing until you try to speak, “Dra, I’m so scared. I’m tired,” you grip his robes in your fists, your head falling against his chest, “I don’t know how much longer I can do this, I feel like I’m falling apart.”

He pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you and holding you against him. You can feel the sigh of relief he releases and his heartbeat slowing as if it’s your own. Maybe that’s because yours does the same. For the first time in weeks you’re engulfed in Draco and you cling to him, circling your arms around his waist and pulling yourself impossibly close. He wastes no time either, wrapping his cloak around you and burying his face in your neck.

Your body shakes furiously in his arms, everything you’ve been bottling up comes pouring out in a torrent of sobs and hiccups. Draco presses closer to you, towering over you and shielding you from the rest of the world. You let his peppermint scent engulf you completely,

“For Salazar’s sake y/n I need you to tell me what’s wrong. I need to fix it, love. Please tell me,” his voice is low and choked.

He’s right, you know he’s right. You squeeze your eyes tighter and grip his back, savouring the muscles under his dress shirt for a few more seconds before you know you’ll have to let go.

“Your father told me we couldn’t see each other anymore. He told me,” you pull out of his arms, leaning back against the tree, “he said, well, it doesn’t matter what he said. We just can’t be together.” Draco’s eyes widen and your cheeks heat up, your words ringing through your ears, “I mean we can’t be friends.”

Draco steps closer to you, running a hand through his hair and closing his eyes. He mumbles something under his breath that you can’t hear but you’re almost positive that it’s a curse. When he opens his eyes, your heart stops. His blue eyes burn into yours, glassy and angry but with something else too, something hot and fierce. Your heart restarts when he places his arms against the tree, caging you between it and him. You can’t resist placing your hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat pick up as well.

“What did my father say, y/n.” He isn’t asking you, he’s telling you.

You lower your eyes, not bothering to fight him anymore, “he told me he would destroy me if I kept being friends with you. He said you were getting married and that you could never marry a Hufflepuff and that he would destroy me if he had to.”

He staggers back with each word, like each one shoves him more than the last. He squeezes his fists before straightening his fingers, shoving them once more through his hair. His shoulders are tense, his back straight. His eyes are screwed shut again.

“Bloody hell,” he pulls at his hair, biting his lip, “he’s lost his damn mind.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, tugging at your jumper, suddenly hot all over. Now is not the time to be getting riled up over Draco but you can’t help it, he looks exquisite. Messy hair and an un-tucked shirt, the veins in his hand prominent and his rings glittering in the afternoon sun. He’s absolutely and undeniably perfect.

“It’s ok, Dra, you’ll be ok,” you try your best to comfort him but he snaps his eyes open, looking at you like you’ve gone mad as well.

“My dad threatened to kill you! No I am not okay!”

This time you walk to him, pulling him into your chest again and wrapping your arms around his neck. He sweeps his arms around your waist, pulling you so close that you have to stand on your tiptoes to keep your arms around him. His hands grasp your hips tight and you immediately know what he wants. You oblige, wanting it just as much if not more, jumping up and wrapping your legs around his stomach. You tuck your face into his neck this time, breathing in the slightest hint of apples, green ones.

You don’t speak, practically feeling the words bubbling in his chest, “My dad told you he was going to kill you, love. He threatened you and he didn’t even tell me. I am definitely not okay. I need to do something. I need to talk to him. And he told you I was getting married? He’s lucky he isn’t here. I don’t care if he’s my father, nobody talks to my girl like that.”

He’s rambling, something he does when he’s at his end. His words wrap around you, tangling with every part of you and sinking into your skin. They lull you into a daze of sorts, almost nodding off on your best friends shoulder. You don’t realise how tired you are until you’re in his arms, safe. And then it hits you, and you’re wide awake again.

“Your girl?”

You cut him off mid sentence, squeezing your legs tighter around him to bring his attention back to you.

“What did you say, love?” Draco hikes you further up his body, readjusting his grip on you.

Your cheeks flame, your neck hot. His eyes bore into yours, searching for something that you’re not quite sure you’re ready to give. His lips are so close to yours, his breath hitting your lips with every exhale. The courtyard around you fades away and Hogwarts itself holds its breath.

“Did you call me your girl, Draco?”

He doesn’t blush like you thought he would, “yes, I did. That’s what you are. Mine. And Merlin help my father for trying to take you away from me.”

You stare at him for a few seconds, letting his words sink into your flesh. They curl around your bones, laying down a warmth that you’ve been craving for longer than you can remember. He’s right. Of course he’s right, he’s Draco. You are his and you always have been. His arm around your back tightens, jostling you enough to make you cling harder to him. Your fingers find their way to the nape of his neck, tangling in his hair. He leans his head back, giving in to your touch willingly.

He holds your gaze as your fingers weave through his silky hair, capturing you with his eyes and refusing to let go, “I’m yours, Draco. Please don’t let me go.”

He leans his forehead against yours, “never, love.”

Hogwarts releases the breath it had been holding, the noise of the courtyard once more fluttering around you. You go to get down from Draco but he stops you, tightening his arms. You only shake your head and smile, letting the sunshine warm your face.

Your heart aches slightly still though, “what are we going to do about your father, Dra?

He starts walking, the sudden movement causing you to tug his hair a little harder.

His voice is strained when he finally answers, leaning down to rub his cheek against your head, “just let me handle that, ok?”

You give in, for now, laying your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes for the final time, “where are we going, Dra?”

“We, my love, are going to take a very much needed nap.”

#draco malfoy #draco #malfoy #draco x reader #draco x hufflepuff!reader #draco malfoy x female reader #draco x female reader #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #harry potter #hufflepuff #slytherpuff #slytherin

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mindmeltonabun-blog · 4 years

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Tale of the Nine Tailed: More Analysis and Theories (Ep 9 & 10)

If you haven't done so already, I would suggest that you read all of my other TOTNT posts before continuing to read this post because otherwise you might find yourself lost or confused as to what I’m talking about. For the most part, the majority of the theories that I have proposed here have came true which is great! However, there were a few theories, most notably my zombie theory that didn’t quite come true. Although I wouldn’t be surprised that if in the end we found out that the Imoogi had a hand in creating those zombies.

Now this post may leave you in a state of exhaustion upon reading it, but I can guarantee you that it will be well worth your time at the end of it ! Additionally, I would like to apologize in advance if I haven't posted my theories or analyses right away, but I’ve been preoccupied with school work as well as tirelessly watching the US election. Needless to say, it’s been a very long week for me! I do want to write well thought out posts for you all, but at the same time I hope you guys will understand that these theoretical and analytical posts do require a great deal of time and extensive research. Anyways with that being said, let’s get to theorizing and analyzing the clues of which we were given in Ep 9 and Ep 10!

What The Imoogi Wants

Initially, I had strongly believed that the Imoogi was after Lee Yeon’s fox bead because it was a form of “Yeouiju” which could’ve helped it become a celestial dragon. There are of course other ways an Imoogi could be a celestial dragon:

1) Fox Bead/Yeouiju

2) Sacrificial Virgin Bride

3) Living to be 1000 years old

It should be noted that I am still somewhat uncertain whether in the context of TOTNT, an Imoogi would need to fulfill all three requirements to become a celestial dragon. In Korean mythology, it is heavily implied that the Imoogi only needs one of the three. Furthermore, in most of the popular myths about the Imoogi, it mainly seeks to obtain the fox bead/yeouiju. Thus, this is why I had initially concluded that the Imoogi in TOTNT was solely after Lee Yeon’s fox bead/Yeouiju and not anything else. However since TOTNT is an adaption of many popular Korean folklore, I think the writer is trying to incorporate all three requirements in their own unique way. Meaning that they are trying to add their own dramatic flair or twist to it. Now I’ve already discussed in great detail about the first two ways so now I want to focus on how I think the writer is trying to incorporate the requirement of living to be 1000 years.

1000 Years + More on Bok Gil/Imoogi’s Background

First, it is implied that Mountain Spirits are “celestial” animals (i.e bears, foxes, snakes, and tigers). By “celestial” I mean that you have to be at least 1000 years old in order to even be considered for this prestigious position. Therefore, at the time when Ah Eum had met Lee Yeon, he had just been recently appointed to that position. In the meanwhile, we as the viewers aren’t given any additional information as to what Lee Yeon had been doing up to that point. One thing is for sure, Lee Yeon must have been a real arrogant and egotistical ass. There I said it ! I mean just look how he behaved when he first met Ah Eum and Lee Rang! However, I think that by meeting Ah Eum and Lee Rang, they brought out Lee Yeon’s more compassionate side.

So you’re probably wondering well what the hell does this have anything to do with the Bok Gil/Imoogi? Well I’m getting to that! If you had remembered, I had theorized that Lee Yeon may have been the reason why Bok Gil committed suicide. Given Lee Yeon’s arrogant pretentious nature, I could definitely see Lee Yeon being completely unaware that his words and actions could’ve deeply affected others. One of those people was Bok Gil/Imoogi.

I believe that Bok Gil/Imoogi is around or exactly the same age as Lee Yeon. Bok Gil had probably died some time during the Goryeo or Joseon dynasty. What makes me believe this? Well just look at the kind of shoes Taluipa was holding. Those shoes are “Kkotsin” which were typically worn by men during those dynasties. Coincidentally, around the same time Bok Gil had died, Lee Yeon was appointed to the Mountain Spirit position. It raises the question, did Bok Gil kill himself before he was able to reach the “celestial” age of 1000 years old? I think so. Thus, he was unable to meet one of the requirements to become a Mountain Spirit.

Collectively, I think Bok Gil’s backstory will have a lot to do with our understanding of the Imoogi’s true motivations . For the Imoogi, it’s not purely about fulfilling the requirements of becoming celestial dragon, but it’s more about personally getting revenge on the person who took away his chance of ever becoming a Mountain Spirit in the first place. If you think about, you didn’t see him trying to go after Sato or any of the other Mountain Spirits or any other Gumiho for that matter. He specifically zeroed in on Lee Yeon.

Maybe the only wrongdoing that Lee Yeon may have committed towards the Imoogi was that he simply existed. Though, I wouldn’t be surprised that Bok Gil’s death and his hatred for Lee Yeon had all stemmed from a simple misunderstanding because let’s be real here, one of the central themes in TOTNT is misunderstandings.

Imoogis are typically seen as auspicious creatures in Korean folklore. Meaning that they are typically viewed as a good omen. Therefore, I think the Imoogi/Bok Gil was a good person, but because of his jealousy of Lee Yeon, he was driven towards depression and suicide. Upon coming back to life, instead of sadness, he was filled with anger and the need for revenge. I mean it’s easier to be angry than sad right?

Additionally, other theories I have for Bok Gil is that maybe his mother had foreseen he would meet the love of his life (Ah Eum) once he became the Mountain Spirit. However, this all changed when whoever decided that position belonged to Lee Yeon instead. If you think about it, Taluipa’s visions of the future are purely subjective just like Alice’s visions from Twilight. Meaning that the future is subjective because it is based on a person’s decision which can readily change.

Imoogi Changes His Decision of What He Wants

In the past, the Imoogi had wanted Lee Yeon’s heart. You might ask well what did the Imoogi mean by Lee Yeon’s heart? Did he mean his literal or figurative heart? The Imoogi could have meant his literal heart, but I think he meant it in a figurative sense. I think the Imoogi probably meant Lee Yeon’s fox bead which in traditional Korean folklore is the main power source/life force of a Gumiho, but I cannot say this with 100% certainty because TOTNT is after an adaption of many Korean folklore.

Now in the present, the Imoogi changed his mind of what he wanted from Lee Yeon. Why? Because he already knew that the fox bead has disappeared into the hands of the fortune teller. The Imoogi with his great powers could’ve easily gone after the fortune teller to retrieve it had this been his main objective. The Imoogi’s main objective isn’t to become a celestial dragon. Rather, it’s to get revenge on Lee Yeon whom he believed had stolen the life he was meant to have. The Imoogi had wanted Lee Yeon to suffer just as he had when he was alive as Bok Gil. He wanted Lee Yeon to feel the exact same pain of having to lose everything most precious to him. Man the Imoogi/Bok Gil is so immature! Taluipa, you need to discipline/talk with your son !

Is Taluipa a Snake/Dragon?

Other things I think would be interesting to know is what kind of species Bok Gil was. As mentioned earlier, Taluipa’s character is based off of Samsin Halmoni. In both Chinese and Korean folklore, Samsin Halmoni and Goddess Mago have been viewed as being the same. Mago was described as having long birdlike/clawlike finger nails. Furthermore, the Goddess Mago was associated with snakes, caves, and the “elixir of life”. See where I’m going yet?

Although it has not been revealed yet, I think that underneath Taluipa’s human skin, she is a snake/dragon. Therefore, this would also make Bok Gil a snake just like his mother. However, I am still unsure as to what kind of animal Taluipa’s husband is because as far as we know, he is just a regular human with immortality that was granted to him by Taluipa. If that is the case, would Bok Gil have been only half snake?

Does Taluipa Realize The Imoogi is Her Son?

I don’t think Taluipa has realized that the Imoogi is her son yet. If you remembered, I had said Bok Gil’s soul was in limbo. Therefore, when his soul traveled back into the land of the living, it had probably randomly jumped into whoever’s dead body was in that cave, thus this would make him unrecognizable even to his own mother.

Other things to note is that just as there is many foxes in the TOTNT, it should be assumed that there are also many snakes/Imoogis too. So Taluipa might not have realized that this one particular Imoogi was actually her son.

I think also that the Imoogi has the ability to cloud Taluipa’s psychic powers of clairvoyance. The decisions we make determines the kind of future we will have. And where exactly are decisions made? In our minds. We obviously know that the Imoogi has the psychic power to read others’ minds, but I think he also has powers that can block others from reading his. Without being able to see the Imoogi’s decisions which are made mentally, Taluipa cannot foresee what he will do next, only what he is doing presently. It’s about to be mother and son psychic power showdown ! Ouch, my brain hurts just thinking about that !

Resolving the Entangled Mess

In some of my previous posts I had suggested that Lee Rang will be the one that tragically dies. At the same time, I did leave room for the possibility of him having a happy ending through means of reincarnation. In this week’s episode, we were given another possibility of how Lee Rang might achieve a happy ending for himself such as untangling the mess.

Well what is this mess? I’m so glad you asked! Below is a chart that I drew as a visual aid to help you all understand the mess that currently exists in the world of TOTNT. I must say the mess in TOTNT is almost as messy as the US elections right now!

As you can see from my chart, the Imoogi has gotten Lee Yeon cornered in a sort of checkmate move. To win the Imoogi’s game, one must find a way to resolve the following two conflicts:

1) Lee Rang’s deal with the CEO

2) Imoogi piece inside Ji Ah

In doing so, one will then be able to remove the Imoogi completely!

Lee Rang’s Deal w/ The CEO

I had mentioned in a previous post that another common theme in TOTNT is deals/contracts. In ep 10, Taluipa’s husband advised to Lee Rang that he should try to think of a way to get around his contract with the CEO aka find a loophole.

What does “Quid Pro Quo” mean? It means that an item or service has been traded in return for something of equal value. The CEO had saved Lee Rang’s life and in return Lee Rang must comply with returning the a favor of equal value when asked. The favor the CEO asked Lee Rang was to bring Lee Yeon which essentially is a favor of equal value (a life for a life). Remember that if you choose not to comply, the power of the contract will force you to complete the favor anyway. However like with any deal, there is always a loophole. This loophole exists in the definition of Quid Pro Quo...of equal value.

Let’s look back to that chart that I drew earlier. What is the most precious thing to the CEO and is basically considered his life? THE CHERRY TREE! Without this tree, the CEO cannot survive. The CEO knew Lee Rang was being swayed by his brother as well as Lee Rang having knowledge of what his greatest weakness was. So then the CEO took precautions to ensure his greatest weakness could never be used against him by having the cherry tree be wheeled away to a safer location.

In order to avoid bringing/killing Lee Yeon, Lee Rang must find something of equal value to give back to the CEO to repay his debt. And that something of equal value is that damn cherry tree! Go Go Lee Rang! Find that cherry tree, return it to the CEO, and afterwards when the contractual rings break....KILL THE CEO !

While this does ensure the death of the CEO and the end of the contract between the CEO and Lee Rang, it does not ensure Lee Rang will survive in the long term. Meaning, Lee Rang cannot survive without the cherry tree either unless there is another means of extending his life (maybe elixir of life?). I do wonder what the typical lifespan of a half fox is. Things are implied, but yet there is no definitive answer as exactly how long a half fox can live. It also raises another question, can a half fox live forever provided that it does not get fatally injured?

Imoogi Piece Inside of Ji Ah

Now onto resolving the 2nd conflict which is how to remove the Imoogi piece inside of Ji Ah. Well I think it can go two ways:

1) Lee Yeon strikes up a deal with the Imoogi:

Lee Yeon will let the Imoogi take his body only if Imoogi would agree to removing the piece of himself that is inside Ji Ah. Now here’s the part where both Ji Ah and Lee Yeon could work together to stop the Imoogi once and for all. Remember that Lee Yeon is susceptible to the effects of evening primrose so when the Imoogi enters Lee Yeon’s body, it will also share the same vulnerability. Ji Ah could trap the Imoogi/Lee Yeon with evening primrose and then use her Shaman powers to remove the Imoogi. After all, one of the powers of a shaman is the ability to excise evil spirits!

2) Taluipa provides Lee Yeon with the elixir of life or turns him human

I will write out more of this theory later, but ngl guys I’m exhausted! Sorry!

Ji Ah = Supernatural Being=Shaman Goddess

In Ep 10, the writer is once again dropping clues like its freaking Christmas that Ji Ah is some sort of supernatural being. We got her female coworker asking if Ji Ah is even human. No she’s not human!! Then we saw how the Imoogi could read everyone else’s mind except for Ji Ah’s. Why? It’s the same reason why Lee Yeon couldn’t hypnotize Ji Ah. It’s because Ji Ah is a supernatural being (shaman goddess) that has hidden powers that makes her immune to powers of other supernatural creatures.

If you don’t still get it by now, I’ll give you this example: Edward Cullen and Bella. If you remember from Twilight, Edward Cullen could read everyone else’s mind except for Bella’s. Why? Because Bella had that special shield power which was later revealed once she became a vampire.

Therefore, just like Bella, I think Ji Ah has a bunch of special shaman powers that can be unlocked somehow. Don’t ask me how right now, my brain is struggling to write this sentence as we speak.

Last Remarks

Okay peeps, I struggled hard to try and write this. I am literally exhausted after staying up super late and waking super early to watch the US election results all week as well as doing my school work. So now I want to relax and celebrate the win of my President Elected, Mr. Joe Biden! I may or not write a separate post on what I think will happen in Ep 11. So stay tune!

P.S: If there are any other questions about TOTNT that I did not address, please feel free to leave a comment and I will do my best to try and provide you with an answer!

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botwstoriesandsuch · 4 years

Note

Hi I was hoping to ask for your advice on writing. I’m trying to write from headcanons to little short fics (like one shots) from the readers pov but I’m finding it difficult to do so smoothly. Any idea how to do the transition without it coming out as a fanfic readers worst nightmare?

Well, I cannot guarantee the quality of my “advice” but I will give it a shot!

Apologies for you folks that hate my big essay length posts, but I do love infodumping about the writing process :P

So just click “J” to skip the post (if you’re on mobile...sorry just exercise your scrolling finger a bit more)

- - - - - - - - - -

So I’ll start with the distinctions between a headcanon and a fic. On one hand, you got simpler sentences, that summarize a broader idea or scene. You might have visualized the entire thing in your head, but at the end of the day all you do is write down a few sentences or pieces of dialogue that give the broader basis of an idea and/or scene. That’s not to say writing headcanons is easy, but it is, bluntly, the simpler method.

Writing, obviously, is more complicated. Not only are you trying to convey a more abstract idea to your reader, but you’re doing so with more layers and complexities, given that what you are trying to write is generally more detailed. You have to not only account for what your basic premise is, but the method in which you convey it. So, in a “good” fic, it typically doesn’t just focus on the basic “what is happening right now” in a scene, but can give subtleties and intricacies with its tone, themes, point of view, connotation, foils, imagery, symbolism, sentence structure, diction, context, figurative language, narrative, foreshadowing, setting, irony, character arcs, and the thousands and thousands of other layers that go into constructing story.

And I say “story” there deliberately, as I think the best way to summarize the differences is that a headcanon is a plot, while a one-shot is a story. Your one-shot has the ability to tell different messages, details, and themes, and give several points of interest to your reader, while your headcanon is limited to the structure of its initial premise.

[And before you English nerds bash me for my definition of story and plot, please know that I am using my film teacher’s old definition, which (to quote this quizlet I found) is “Story is all of the elements of a narrative that are involved, both shown and un-shown on screen. Plot is only all of the elements of a narrative that are shown on screen.” So yeah, it theoretically could be rewritten as a headcanon is a scene, and a one-shot is a story, but I’m just nitpicking at this point half of you don’t care and want me to move on anyway, apologies!]

So how do you transition between them? Well, in honesty I don’t exactly have a sure fire way for you, saying I do would be very hypocritical. However, what I can do is point out the “gap” between headcanons and fics, and perhaps from there you might be able to forge your own path..?

Chances are, if you’re already familiar with writing headcanons, you’ve already knocked out half of the work. See in a story, specifically in our case, fic, you have eight elements that construct it. You’ve got

Plot

Setting

Conflict

Character

Point of View

Tone

Style

and Theme

With a headcanon, (assuming it’s slightly more specific than “Headcanon that this character likes peaches!”) you’ve already got plot, setting, conflict, and character down.

Plot: being the actual premise of your story. What happens, why things happen, how other characters react, the beginning and ending, etc.

Setting: Being the location and time of your scene/plot. The setting might be a contingency to your story, such as a prison break that takes place in prison, or maybe it is the time that is essential for your High School AU fic

Conflict: Typically goes hand and hand with your plot, although not always (obviously, plot and conflict aren’t essential when talking about fics, *winks at the nsfw side of tumblr*) But if your headcanon does have a basic plot, then it probably has some sort of conflict whether external (The Calamity kills everybody) or internal (you’re character is going through grief)

Character: This whole aspect is practically already done for you. Whether by canon from the video game or media you got it from, or perhaps by fanon, with the collective fandom agreeing on certain traits about your character(s) in question. Obviously, if you got an OC, that’s another thing, as you have to create their traits, and construct a believable way that that character reacts and makes choices throughout your plot, depending on how you characterized them

So congrats! In writing up your everyday headcanon, you’re now halfway there to making a full on fic! Obviously, 50% is still a lot, which is probably the reason you were seeking advice in the first place, so now we should move on to the other half, and arguably it is this other half of elements that give the entire distinction between a headcanon and a one-shot. So in theory, if you get these elements down, you’re on your way to writing that much faster!

Quick additional note: Another way to think of your headcanon is as an outline. While not in every case, a good way to jump from your headcanon to a fic is to stick with the major elements of your headcanon, and weaving your writing style in between. Think of the headcanon as your skeleton, and the story being the meat and muscle. Idk if that makes sense, blame my old English teacher for the metaphor

Alrighty, so for demonstration purposes I’m gonna use the very first headcanon I’ve ever written as a basis. Bear with me for a moment:

“Zelink Headcanon: Zelda Just Wants Some Snacks

Everyone always jokes and adores about how Link eats so much and cooks great food in the game (he’s gotta carbo load guys, he walks like 9 miles everyday!)

However I propose, equally hungry and feral Zelda

After Link and Zelda defeat Ganon, one of the first things they do is stop by the nearest cooking pot and eat

She hasn’t eaten for 100 years!! She’s gotta be starving!

Link just cooks up some meat skewers

“…wait I forgot the Goron spice, gimme a sec…”

But Zelda just immediately snatched it off the fire and eats the whole thing in two seconds

Link keeps trying to go out of his way to make really nice food but Zelda is just like “I DON’T CARE RIGHT NOW PLEASE LINK”

So yeah, their first date is basically just Link cooking Zelda a buffet until his inventory empties out”

Again, this headcanon has already given us half of the answers.

We got our plot: Link, a talented chef, is cooking food which Zelda scarfs down without fear and hesitation

Setting: They are by a cooking pot, perhaps in the wilderness, away from the prying eyes of nosey villagers. This takes place sometime after the initial defeat of Calamity Ganon.

Conflict: Link keeps trying to cook “good” food, but despite the Princess’ royal upbringing, she has no care for the whole “show” of cooking with spices and garnish. She is starving, willing to eat anything

And Characters: Link and Zelda. You know... (Today unfortunately is not the day in which I construct a thorough character analysis of the two...perhaps one day...)

So, now that we have this, we start adding the meat and muscle of our story with point of view, tone, style, and theme. These elements, could be summarized as your writing style. Yes, writing style is more intricate than those four elements alone, but they do fit in with its broad definition.

So, in essence, a way to transition between headcanon and fic is to find out what kind of writing style you’re comfortable with.

How do you do that? Well... shocker, I know, you gotta write.

Write first, plan the elements of your one-shot later!!

Allow yourself to write complete utter garbage. I know you said that you don’t wanna create a “fanfic reader’s worst nightmare,” but if you become more concerned with the quality of your content before you even start writing, you will never ever ever get anywhere. You’re gonna be stuck in writer’s block for eternity, so just let the garbage and nightmares out and write. You’ll never improve if you don’t have something to improve from, you feel me?

So, now that your mind is open and ready to write anything, whether garbage or gold, let us dive in to the parts of your writing style.

Point of view: Do you prefer writing in third person? First? Second? Each have their pros and cons. Second person is good for your “x reader” inserts. First person is good for your narrator’s characterization. Third person is good for describing elements of your surroundings that might not be inherently obvious to your characters or audience. There are hundreds of other pros and cons to the different POVs that you can search up online, but it’ is ultimately up to you to decide which method you like best.

When you find the method you like best, make sure you use it to it’s full potential! Use foreshadowing with your third person POVs. Use connotation, and diction to further characterize your narrator in first person. Elevate the mood and senses of a scene when in second person.

Tone: Now, this element is often confused with another literary device, mood. The difference being that you as the author have more control over the tone, than the mood. The tone, is the attitude that you as the author (or as a character/narrator, depending on your POV) have towards something. For example, your tone might be suspenseful if you withhold information from your reader, or if you have a certain choice of diction. It is typically better to look to the type of genre you’re writing for to identify what kind of tone you want.

Mood is the feeling that the reader experiences from your writing. It’s really much more simple, a beloved character dying give a depressed mood. A cute couple hanging out will give the reader a happier mood. This is your angst and fluff feelings, if you will. (Although, please remember than mood and tone are not a binary thing, it is a spectrum, as broad and diverse as the capabilities of human emotion)

Style: Ok yes this is a bit meta, me explaining how to use style to help you construct a writing style. Blame the bendable definitions of the writing world. So just think of this as the face of your writing. The more obvious and apparent part that is unique to you and your personality.

Think cake. Your story is a delicious cake, it is a chocolate, Zelink cake. Now, your style is the way that you present this cake. Pink frosting? Yellow? A full cake or just a slice? Chocolate ice cream cake? Chocolate lava cake? Five tier cake? Cake pops? These possibilities are the infinite ways your style will present the story.

Style, sometimes called voice, is the combination of your use of tone, mood, POV, syntax, diction, and other literary device that you commonly use in your writing. This isn’t something you learn, it’s just something you do naturally when you write. It’s what readers will like about your fics, because they like the way that you use this or that, or the way you describe this thing or that person. It’s something that can change and improve over time, but in essence, it’s what readers can read and identify as you, without even looking at the username.

Style isn’t something you have to remember, per say, like other literary devices, but it is something to be aware of as you should try to keep it consistent through your whole story. Sometimes have people have different writing styles depending on their own mood, or what they’re writing about. That is fine, so long as you keep it consistent through your whole work. A good trick for this is to listen to music that fits with the style of your writing. Use that one catchy love song whenever you’re writing cute headcanons or fluffy one shots. Use that anime opening theme for your adventurous fics and fight scenes. This way, you are keep in a consist atmosphere and your brain will be in the “Oh! It’s time to write ____ stuff!” mood.

So just be aware of when you’re in a descriptive style, a narrative style, argumentative, or whatever style you like using. You style might even derived of the way you already create headcanons!

Theme: This is a big one. Have a cohesive theme can easily bring any story from good to great! I like to think of it as you’re story’s destiny, or reason for existence.

Theme is an outlier for the other elements in that not only is it not necessary for your fic, it is also not necessary for your writing style either. It’s really not necessary... at all. Yet, people always use theme in their writing, even accidentally.

Theme is your story’s underlying message, or lesson. Yes, yes, if you paid attention in your basic English class you probably already knew that, but this is a big pet peeve of mine.

The theme of your story isn’t “true love,” the theme isn’t “innocence”, or “failure”, or “trauma”, or whatever. Theme isn’t a broad idea, it’s a specific question and an answer.

For example: The theme of Breath of the Wild isn’t “exploration” or “time”. The theme is there is always something to seek and find, so long as you have the curiosity and courage to find it. The theme is despite the eternities of time, we still found each other.

Your theme shouldn’t be a broad, one word answer. What about love are you trying to convey? What specifically about failure are you saying?

Theme is the entire reason why the entertainment medium exists, because artist found a way to create something compelling and interesting while also connecting them to real life things.

When you give your reader something to really chew on, even days after they finished reading your fic, then you did a brilliant job. Essentially, you want to use theme in your story because it is what will stick with our readers even years after they’ve read your work.

While that’s all sentimental and sappy, that’s still not your biggest problem, is it? You still need to practice, you still need to learn how to use the things you’ve learned to actually write. So, a summary of what I advise you should do.

Look over and improve your old headcanons, and keep making more! Keep making headcanons and litte prompts, and let them grow bigger and bigger, and more desprictive. This could help you ease into actually writing paragraphs a bit more

Find out what you like to write. Yes, you probably already have a fandom in mind, but think back to those first four elements. What types of plots are you comfortable with, what settings, characters? Genius is only the work of enthusiasm, if you don’t like what you’re going to write, you’ve already failed

Write, write, write. Practice, practice practice. Let yourself write complete and utter garbage and nonesense. Then read it over. See what you don’t like about it. Then change it and write again. I MEAN it when I say you should write garbage. Write a completely terrible, nightmarishly cringe scene. See what you don’t like. Then rewrite it again. Repeat, repeat, repeat. In fact, it doesn’t even have to be a scene or something from your fandom. Let it be your description of a shirt, let is be some cringy poem from 7th grade. Just write and learn how you like to write. It will be so much easier in the long run

Read stuff. The stuff you read usually seeps into how you write. When you get used to reading things a certain way, you usually unconciously try to imitate it when you write. So, got a favourite fic writer? Read their stuff over and maybe even analyze the elements you like (again, think back to those eight elements I talked about) and hey, writers like it when you analyze their stuff so maybe even hit them up and talk? We like book reports we swear, most of us don’t bite.

When you finally think you’re comfortable with your writings, maybe think about what kind of themes you’re into, or what kind of messages you want to say. It doesn’t even need to be that complex. Could be as simple as “I love this ship because it shows that you can still have flaws and be loved” Again, themes are the rEASON for eVERYTHING in the entertainment world

For further demonstration purposes, I’m going to come up with further elements for a hypothetical fic I would write based on that Zelink headcanon. So I’ve got the plot, setting, conflict and theme down. Hmm... I’ll probably use a third person POV as that is what I’m most comfortable with. With third person, I can better highlight the descriptions of Link and Zelda’s surroundings taking in the atmosphere and the aromas and and tastes. The tone will be more happy, focusing on the fun of Zelda and Link’s banter, I’ll try to create a mood in which the reader is laughing along with them, and enjoying the scene. My style will be more descriptive, again with the tastes and smells and other senses of the scene. However, I might go into a more narrative style for Zelda and Link’s banter and dialogue. While typically some people don’t want to use two different styles, I am personally familiar with the styles and know how to write them so as to blend them together more seamlessly. I might have a hint of angst at the end of the fic, as a little climax, given that the setting of the fic is after the defeat of the Calamity. I might through in some themes about how it wasn’t the material power of Hylia or the Master Sword that saved Hyrule, but the courageous and wise bond between Link and Zelda. Then...idk, a little romatic kiss for resolution because this is a fic and I can throw in some fanservice because my writing my rules.

Babam! I just converted a headcanon to a fic.

So yeah, go write your headcanons. Then maybe next a paragraph. Then next a scene, and then you’re well on your way to one-shots and chapter fics. Happy writing and good luck!

#writing #botw #breath of the wild #botw headcanons #zelink

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sepublic · 5 years

Text

Something Ventured, Someone Framed

EDALYN CLAWTHORNE

LILITH CLAWTHORNE

CLAWTHORNE FAMILY

WE HAVE CONFIRMATION ON THE FAMILY NAME!!!

...Okay, with that out of the way and off my chest, I LOVED this episode!

Firstly, I love how the show is addressing and exploring Luz’s frustration with Eda not exactly helping her explore witch society, while also admitting that Eda is doing this out of a place of concern and not wanting Luz to be hurt like her. But at the same time, Eda KNOWS that Luz is feeling stifled and she of all people doesn’t want to tell someone else what to do... As she said earlier, it’s best for Luz to figure out how she feels about the system. And while she does, Eda will be supporting her the whole way! Even fixing all of her past mistakes, of a few of which were really hilarious and impressive (the moving, sentient graffiti was an amazing gag)! I just... LOVE how much Eda cares for Luz and is willing to put herself into an uncomfortable situation for her sake!

Principal Bump is actually a cool dude! I had my suspicions ever since Episode 3 (what with him going out of his way to place Willow in the track she wanted to be in... yeah he tried to dissect Luz, but at the time he thought she was just a really advanced Abomination). Then Covention had him say “I failed you as a teacher” to a kid... Which while harsh to say in front of a crowd, is ultimately a line that puts the responsibility on himself, and not the student.

And it shows! I’m not sure if a lot of people in the Boiling Isles just... don’t care for Bellows’ reign in particular. Is there some form of quiet, conscious dissent going on? As a surprisingly benevolent principal (not including the detention), Bump is genuinely willing to look past Eda’s criminal status and even bend the law just so his students (and Luz herself) gain ‘enriching’ knowledge and experience from interacting with a person/people from another world! With Bump, he seems to be the kind of person who’d much rather focus on rehabilitating and helping reintegrate a person into society, over just punishing and isolating them. That I have to respect!

(Although that Detention... thing is a bit too far when it comes to ‘rehabilitating’. Also it’s going to be weird re-watching those scenes knowing the Detention Monster is just a regular dude who acts like a monster for his job.)

Mattholomule is... Well, he’s a jerk like Dana said. Not much else to say here. But he’s also her favorite jerk, so I guess we have something to look forward to! Also, him becoming president of the HAS seems a bit of a pyrrhic victory, seeing as how he already admitted to the club that he lied to get appreciation. He really didn’t think this through, did he?

Also GUS! Gus, my baby boy. He’s incredibly smol, and it’s because he’s actually really young for his grade! That joke with his rebellious illusion was great, and it was cool seeing Emira and Edric as a casual, background-character joke! And when he raised his hand I deadass thought he’d deck Mattholomule in the face (not that I’d blame him). The fact that promotional art for the episode had him getting physical with Mattholomule and Dana joking about getting into a fight certainly didn’t help. Likewise, I was pretty glad to see an episode centering on him (since just about everyone else from the main cast got focus... Not sure if Hooty counts. Would Hooty’s Moving Hassle count?), and it was neat to switch things a bit to have him as the protagonist. I think it’s always neat when that happens, and it helps us see how others see Luz, our main protagonist!

(Willow, you’re so precious and amazing I love you. Looking out for your girlfriend and being the voice of reason.)

But back to what REALLY got my eye... YOUNG EDA! YOUNG EDA HAS ORANGE HAIR! And she’s freaking adorable... You are my angel...

Her being in the Potions track makes sense, but it makes me wonder if that happened before or after the curse? Some of her magic graffiti had the words ‘Hoot’, but that might’ve happened during her time at school? It’d be interesting if part of her interest in the Potions Track was to help curb her own curse, or if later on her school track just conveniently ended up working out. There’s always the possibility that since Bump is willing to accommodate his students according to their needs, he switched Eda to the Potions Track after she got cursed. Who knows? Either way, Young Eda is my precious baby girl... I would give the whole WORLD to you...

(And now I’m a little depressed imagining Eda having innocent, carefree days and fun at school and enjoying her friendship with her sister, only for the curse and/or some other incident(s) to cause a falling-out with the system and disgrace.)

On a minor note, when @disneytva released that one infographic showing off each school track and a corresponding image, we have yet to see the screenshots for the Bard, Fortune Tellers, and Healing Coven? AKA we’ll definitely get more of Hexside this season and I can’t wait!

I really loved reading about Eda’s pranks as a child. What a wonderful trouble-maker who knows exactly what she’s doing. But what I really appreciate is the one report mentioning how she caused an entire lunch fight just to get back Lilith’s lunch money! Lilith shows she cares about Eda (in her own flawed way), and we see how Eda cares for Lilith! I just WANT these two to be happy!

(Also I want to see young Lilith)

I was thinking about it and “Look Hoo’s Talking” mentioned it as well, but there’s a ‘mystery thief’ (AKA the person that stole Luz’s lunch money)? At first I wasn’t paying attention, but then the report specifically mentioned they worked with Eda and Lilith to save the school from the giant, sentient Abomination. Is this the favorite character from Season 2 that Dana talked about??? A peer from Eda and Lilith’s class???

(By the way, did Bump write those reports on Eda’s behavior? Whoever it is apparently had the obligation to clean up the Griffin-vomit but took a break, which... I love you Eda. But that dude totally deserves a break from your pranks.)

It was really touching to see Eda interacting with Hooty this episode. Given the implications that she may have made Hooty herself, it was really kind... But at the same time, I can see why Hooty’s behavior convinced Eda to enroll Luz in school.

And while Eda mentioned that she knows Luz is smarter than the ‘One Witch, One Coven’ nonsense... What if she and Luz have a falling-out because Luz buys into the system???

...I mean, I’m not too sure about that. But mostly, it seems like an assigned track is mandatory. Unless Eda pulls off some special treatment for Luz the human, I REALLY want to see which track Luz will be placed into! Her expertise is light spells, which seems like it’d be in the Illusion track... But we already have Gus, Emira, and Edric. Earlier I discussed with @fermented-writers-block about Luz possibly getting into the Healing or Beast-Keeping Covens, what with her relationship with the symbolism of Azura-Hecate and her own character motifs. I can’t wait to find out!

(Assuming something tragic doesn’t happen to prevent Luz from attending Hexside... could you imagine?)

#the owl house #owl house #the owl house eda #eda clawthorne #the owl house luz #luz noceda #the owl house gus #principal bump #lilith clawthorne #analysis #speculation #episode review

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star-spangled-steve · 5 years

Text

His New Partner

Chapter 36: The Heart To Heart

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 1907

Warnings: Angst, tears, meantions of sex, cussing.

A/N: I sincerely apologize for not updating in so long. I’ve been trying to take some time for myself to relax and de-stress, and luckily, it worked! My writer’s block has seemed to have disappeared (for now), and I’m super happy with how this turned out. I hope you enjoy it!

The darkness and quietness of the night consumed all of Y/N’s senses as she sat at the kitchen table, head propped up by her hand. Her thin pyjamas and the blanket thrown over her shoulders did little to keep her warm, but she was too distraught to care.

It was a week after the snap that took her son’s life, and Y/N was having a hard time sleeping; or doing anything for that matter. After deciding to get out of bed, due to her heavy case of insomnia, she had originally planned on getting herself something to drink. Maybe a cold glass of water, to relief the aching tension from her body, or possibly even a beverage that was hot, to make her feel any type of warmth in these troubling times. Warmth that she wasn’t getting from any other sources.

Steve had been trying to give her some. Warmth, that is. Comfort, affection, love. But she had rejected any of his attempts, her emotions being just way too fragile at the moment. She knew that it probably killed him inside, being shot down every single time he tried to help. But in her mind, it was exactly what he deserved. If he wasn’t there for her before, there was surely no reason for him to be now.

“Y/N?”

Speak of the devil.

The girl turned her head towards the entrance way, being met with the worried face of her husband, who wore nothing but his pyjama pants. He was holding the t-shirt that he had taken off before bed, and began to put it back on due to the cold night air. She tried not to let her eyes stray on his bare chest for too long, though the sight of his toned muscles was something just so hard to resist. That and his deliciously thick beard, probably the perfect mix of rough and soft to touch. It most likely would feel sinfully perfect between her thighs-

‘No.’ She stopped herself. ‘Bad Y/N.’ She was supposed to mad at him, not imagining him pinning her down to the bed and fucking her senseless. Damn. How long had it been since she got laid?

Oh, right, two goddamn years.

“N/N?” Steve’s voice once again broke her out of her thoughts, making the girl come back to her senses. No amount of hotness could make up for what he did.

“Ya?” She responded, voice dry from lack of use. She and Steve had barely spoken within the last seven days, too consumed by all the anger and sadness and depression, too focused on what, or who they had lost.

“What are you doing up?” The man questioned, still having not moved from his spot near the kitchen entrance.

Y/N gave him a small shrug, not daring to make eye contact. “I don’t know.”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows at her answer, crossing his arms over his chest in curiosity. “You don’t know?” He dismissively shook his head before gesturing her over to him, beginning to walk out. “You’re tired. Come on, we’re going back to bed.”

“No.”

The man stopped in his tracks, turning back around to face her. “You don’t ‘wanna go back to bed?” He watched as she meekly shook her head, realizing that he wasn’t going to get much more of an answer. “What do you want then, N/N? Do you want me to leave you alone? Because I can, if that’s what you need.”

Once again, she was silent, not even offering him a glance of confirmation.

“Alright.” He sighed disappointedly, starting to head out for real this time. “Night, N/N. Let me know if you need anythi-”

“Can we just talk?”

To say that Steve was shocked would be a huge understatement. She had been avoiding him for the last week; rejecting all of his advances, ignoring him when he spoke, and now she finally wanted to talk? The man tried to hide his giddiness.

“Please?”

The sound of her voice, so small, so weak, broke his heart even further. He was obviously going to say yes before. But now, after hearing that one, tiny word, Steve had to stop himself from running over there and scooping her up in his arms. “Of course, N/N.”

She gave him the smallest of smiles, still the biggest one that he’d seen from her since he got back, and he joined her at the table, sitting directly across. He was originally planning on sitting next to her, but instead decided to take things slow. Baby steps.

“So,” Steve sighed while leaning his elbows on the table, getting close to show her that she had his undivided attention, “what do you ‘wanna talk about?”

Y/N let out a shaky breath, trying to hold back the tears that had been building up through the past couple hours she sat there. “I... god, I don’t even know anymore.” She gulped. “I don’t know what to say, I don’t know what to think, I don’t even know what to feel.” The girl tugged the blanket tighter over her shoulders for comfort. “I... without him, I... I’m just empty.”

Anthony James. The boy that was her only source of light for the longest time. Now all she saw was darkness.

“I-I just miss him so bad.” Y/N continued, watching Steve’s face sadden even more. “And I don’t know what to do. He... he was my everything. I loved him so much. I still love him so much. Everything is so different without him and I hate it.”

The man nodded his head in deep sorrow. “I know, N/N, I know. I wish he was here with us too. I want to hold my son again; the feeling was like no other. I miss him too.”

Y/N lightly scoffed before mumbling under her breath, “You barely even knew him.” Though the moment the words left her mouth, she instantly regretted how selfish she sounded.

“Wow, Y/N.” Steve lightly chuckled, though it wasn’t because he thought it was funny, but more from his disbelief at her words. He couldn’t even believe she’d say something like that. Here he was, trying to help her, and she was being nothing but rude in return. “You do realize that I’m hurting too right? That you’re not the only one who lost their son?”

She flinched at his angry tone of voice, but answered him with just as much vigour in her own. “Look, Steve, I’m sorry. But it’s a bit hard for me to have any form of sympathy for you after what you did.” Steve huffed but she kept on going. “I myself was hurting for a very long time, two years to be exact, and you weren’t even there.”

“Well by the way you’re acting right now, N/N, you’re not even here for me either.” He tried to blink away the tears that were threatening to fall. “Not once have you asked me how I’m doing, or how I’m handling things. You’ve given me no form of support this past week, and worst of all, you reject me when I reach out to support you. I was on that battlefield, Y/N. I not only carry the sadness of losing our loved ones, but also the guilty feeling that maybe I could’ve done more.” Steve sniffled, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand. “If I turned left instead of right, or killed this alien instead of that one, m-maybe I could’ve helped prevent this.” He sniffled, making eye contact with his wife who was also crying. ”N/N, look, I’m not asking for you to forgive me for what I’ve done; not tonight, at least. All that I’d like is for us to push that aside, and just be there for each other right now.”

Y/N puffed out a breath, his words giving her a lot to think about. She hadn’t meant to make him feel so horrible. “I’m sorry, Steve. Maybe I have been a bit insensitive. It’s just so hard for me to look at you and feel anything but anger.” She watched as he became more disappointed, looking down at his hands in anxiousness. “Two years, Steve. You were gone for two years. Can you blame me, your wife, for being upset? Th-That was two Christmases, two of my birthdays, two anniversaries, and you missed it all. D-Did I even cross your mind?”

“Of course you did, Y/N!” Steve nearly shouted, standing up from his kitchen seat. He began to pace back and forth. “You were the only thing on my mind. You always have been. I don’t think you understand just how much I care about you.”

“Well can you blame me?” She responded, standing up as well. “How ever much you do, it clearly wasn’t enough for you to stay with me!”

“Y/N, me leaving had nothing to do with you!” He threw his hands up in exasperation, letting them flop down to his sides. “By the time I’d realized the weight of what I’d done, it was too late to come back!”

“Guys?”

Both Steve and Y/N turned their heads towards the hallway, opposite of the one Steve had entered from. Standing there, in hear sweats, was the one and only Natasha Romanoff. And boy oh boy, did she look irritated.

“Hey, Nat.” Steve spoke hesitantly.

“Ya, hi, some of us are trying to sleep, you know?”

Y/N nodded, suddenly feeling ashamed for being so inconsiderate. “Right. Sorry, Natasha. You go back to bed. We’ll be more quiet.”

“Thanks.” The red-haired woman gave them a nod back before walking out the way she came in.

Once he knew she was gone, Steve again made eye contact with Y/N, nudging his head towards the way of their bedroom. “Come on.”

This time the girl complied, silently following him through the hallway and back to their room. Once inside, he closed the door behind her.

“Y/N, I don’t want to keep fighting you.” The man spoke while placing his hands on her forearms, desperate for any sort of touch from her. “I really, really need your support right now, N/N. I love you so much.”

She gulped. “I-I love you too, Steve. I really do. But-”

“No.” He cut her off. “No ‘buts’. Love... love is all we need.” Steve began to get closer, wrapping his arms around her upper body. He was almost going to kiss her too. He knew it, she knew it, and that’s exactly why she placed a hand on his chest; to push him away.

“No, Steve.” Y/N slowly, sadly shook her head. “What we need is time.” She swallowed her tears, looking away from his handsome face. “Apart.”

“B-But, N/N-”

“I’m sorry.” She told him sincerely before heading towards the door, putting her hand on the knob to leave.

“Wait,” he furrowed his brows, “where are you going?”

“I’m just going to go sleep in the living room.”

“No.” He shook his head. “No, I don’t want you on the couch. I’ll go, you can stay here.”

Y/N glanced around the space, remembering of the things that had happened there, before her eyes landed on a certain spot on the carpet. The spot where not too long ago, the ashes of her son laid. “To be honest, Steve, I don’t even want to be in this room right now.”

And with that she walked out, closing the door behind herself, leaving her husband all alone.

Next Chapter

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ravenforce · 5 years

Text

New Dawn

Prompt: "I really loved that story (see you in a minute) and I hope that later you can make the story of Natasha x reader of how their relationship was given until arriving at the battle of Thanos I would love to read it. And I hope you crave your other stories”

Requested by: @ecruzsalaz

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 8987

Warning/s: Nothing!

A/N: Hey guys! I’m alive! I am so sorry for being AWOL for a while after posting the end of the SYIAM universe. I had a terrible writer's block, I got a new gaming console (Switch), had so many things happening at work before the end of the year, and I’ve been sick. Nothing life-threatening, don’t worry guys but I am back! Thank you for being here.

Also, I proofread this twice but if there are still mistakes that escaped me, I apologize. I hope you guys like it. PLEASE comment and/or message me your reactions. I missed it! xx

PS. I’m not sure if this can be read as stand-alone. If it gets confusing, you might need to read See You In A Minute series first. Please refer to the masterlist on my description.

***

Semi-retirement from fieldwork and mostly working on your lab at the compound is so reminiscent of your days as International Operations Director of STARK Industries. Your time is on your hands to do what matters to you the most and that’s spending time with your family. Anyone who knew you before you joined the Avengers would laugh at the idea of you settling down nicely to family life.

You and Tony were a force of nature, who comes and goes as you both please; leaving satisfied bodies but empty hearts. No one can keep you down long enough to tie you down. You’re always on the move; either galavanting the world using Tony’s private plane or crossing international waters lazily using your own yacht.

You were brought back to the present when you felt your daughter kick you under the lab table where the two of you are playing chess. You two are the designated people to man the fort while the Starks are in Miami, and your wife went to check up on Laura with Maria, Wanda, and Carol. The old you would have felt bummed to be left behind but spending alone time with your daughter is hands down one of the best use of your time; up there with being in the company of your wife, of course.

“Where’d you go, mom?” Asya asked as she surveys the chessboard; definitely planning a massacre of your pieces.

You smiled up at her because even though a lot of people said she looks like you, there are moments where she looks exactly like Natasha. Heaven knows you’re so whipped for both the two.

“I just thought of how no one from my past would ever tell you married life is where I’m headed.”

“Not even uncle Tony?” she asked as she glances up at you.

You grinned, “especially not Uncle Tony.”

Asya laughed. She has heard stories from Tony and the others about you, before joining the Avengers and before dating Natasha but she’s never heard your side of the story yet. She moved her King in preparation to make her killer move.

“Mom, would you mind telling me how you and mom met?” she asked sheepishly. “From your perspective, I mean.”

You looked at the board for a minute before looking back up at your daughter. “It’s a long story.”

”We have time,” she defended easily. Because you have, Natasha and the others are not gonna be back until tomorrow night.

You glanced at the clock. “Very well. We should finish this and order some pizza?”

Asya’s eyes twinkled with excitement at the prospect of hearing your story, as well as having greasy delivery pizza for dinner. She immediately hopped off her seat before standing at the side of the table. “Then make your move already mom, we don’t have all night,” she sassed playfully.

Yup, totally just like your wife, Venom said in your head.

You chuckled before moving your piece. “Checkmate,” you said before standing up and walking towards the door of your shared lab.

Asya gaped at the board. She was sure she got you on her hook.

Savage, Venom cheered in your head. You only chuckled to yourself.

“Coming, love?” you asked innocently. When she looked at you, there was pure adoration in her eyes and maybe a hint of fire. Surely, she’s gonna ask for a rematch in the coming days. After all, she’s yours and Nat’s daughter.

***

Eating at the huge family dining table without the rest of the family home is a tad depressing for both you and Asya. So you two decided to just bring your box of pizza at the front porch.

“Go on mom. I wish to sleep at some point in the night,” Asya sassed as she dabs the pizza with a napkin to rid it of excess oil; a habit she picked up from Nat for sure.

You laughed heartily. “Okay, okay. I met your mother the day I arrived back in Miami,” you started.

Asya knew the basics: how you were basically adopted by the Starks after your parents passed away, how you and Tony are thick as thieves; going to the same university, traveling the world until you two decided to stay in Switzerland for a while. The only time you were basically separated was when Tony needed to run the business in the US and he needed you to stay on top of the business in Europe and Asia.

***

You inhaled deeply as you stood on the pavement in front of Stark Industries Headquarters before squaring your shoulder and strutting inside the massive building. You were immediately met by Dylan an intern who was supposed to escort you to Tony’s office. Dylan blatantly stared at you through the mirrored walls of the elevator. Typical. When the lift stopped at the penthouse, he didn’t step off.

“Thank you, Dylan,” you said smiling. He looked so surprised that you even bothered to read his nameplate.

You walked the short distance from the lift to the door and was not surprised to see the most beautiful woman you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Definitely typical since Tony has a knack of choosing the prettiest woman to be by his side. After all, he chose Pepper.

“Hi, I’m here to see Tony,” you greeted politely. You had to reign in the urge to shiver and groan the moment her green eyes met yours. She’s breathtaking that you had to take a moment to compose yourself. You’re Y/N Y/L/N, you reminded yourself. You get girls as pretty as her whenever and wherever you go.

“Name?” she asked confidently, her eyes never wavering. At that moment you knew, this woman, this Natalie Rushman is different from Tony’s previous assistants.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you answered.

Natalie looked at her computer. “I’m sorry but you’re not on his scheduled meetings today,” Natalie said matter-of-factly. You tried to pout, and talk your way in but Natalie isn’t one to swoon over you. Not typical!

“Come on, Natalie. I know for a fact that he’s having lunch with Pepper right now,” you said as you walk a few steps towards the door but Natalie was lightning fast on her feet and already blocking your path.

“Take one more step,” she warned you.

You were right, this woman is something else because, at this point when you’re this obnoxious, Tony’s previous assistants would do only two things. One, they will faux put up a fight but let you in any way. Two, they will call security on you. So far, Natalie has done none of that.

You cocked your head to the side. “Or what?” you challenged her by stepping right into her personal space.

Natalie looked into your eyes before she shoved you and pin you against her table, which causes some of her things to fall and make a ruckus on the floor. She wasn’t really hurting you but her grip is strong and she’s clearly capable if you pushed her one more time. Any other time someone pushes you, you would have been mad but instead, you just started laughing. Natalie looked at you like you’ve grown another head but she didn’t let you go.

“First meeting and you’re already tied down,” Tony snickered from the door where he and Pepper are standing to check on the noise. You groaned at the fascinated look of your friends' faces.

Natalie let you go. You stood up and started straightening your navy three-piece suit.

“Fuck off,” you said before walking towards the pair.

“Not you though,” you said to Pepper before giving her a familial kiss on the cheeks.

“Welcome home,” Pepper said before shooing you and Tony inside. When the door closed, Pepper walked towards Natalie who was suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“Who was that?” she asked quietly after picking up all her stuff from the floor.

“That’s Tony’s best friend, his little sister. She has level 10 access to Tony too.”

“Shit,” Natalie cursed under her breath.

“Don’t worry she’s cool. Sometimes, even cooler than Tony,” Pepper said before walking away laughing.

***

“Mama pinned you on your first meeting?” Asya asked before breaking into fits of giggle.

“Stop! It wasn’t that bad,” you said as you throw the pizza box on the bin.

Asya walked back to the house on the reverse so she can look at you. “I’m sure it wasn’t, mom. It’s very romantic,” she said teasingly.

Very, Venom decided to chime in and gang up on you.

“I had enough of your sass, missy. You better run,” you mock threatened her. Asya squealed before running off inside the house. You laugh hard before walking leisurely after her.

***

After checking that all the doors were locked and activating the night security protocol, you walked back to the common living area only to be met by a flying pillow right in your face. You let out a very dramatic fake gasp and caught the pillow in your hand. When you looked at your daughter, already looking comfortable on her very own blanket fort.

“What happened next?” she said while wiggling her toes at you.

You held up a finger before running upstairs and rushing through your nightly routine. After exactly, ten minutes, you came down with your matching silk pajamas.

“Finally,” Asya groaned dramatically but smiling.

***

The second time you met Natalie, you didn’t expect it to be at S.H.I.E.L.D Headquarters where Fury is introducing you to the Avengers as the new recruit. She doesn’t look happy to see you there. She looked like she wanted to protest your credentials but was polite enough not to do so in front of everyone. Tony was so happy when he found out Fury accepted your application at S.H.I.E.L.D. It’s the least you can do since you failed at convincing your best friend not to join a ‘superhero initiative’.

Pepper still wasn’t happy by your “alternative solution”, saying how now she has to worry for two. Fury deemed that two heads like Tony Stark are better than one. Hence, why he accepted you at S.H.I.E.L.D. Afterall, you were the one who helped Tony synthesize the new element to stabilize and upgrade the Iron Suits. Your job at S.H.I.E.L.D is mainly at labs, helping build new weapons for the agents and the Avengers.

Word travels fast even in a secret organization. People at the labs kept wondering why you’re in there with them when you can be out there with the Avengers. A conversation that came up once when you decided to take a break at the same time as everyone. It was a bright and sunny day, the lab rats decided to eat a snack at the outdoor sitting area when the quinjet landed on the distance. Everybody watched you watch the plane come to a full stop.

“They said you grew up with Tony Stark. They said you’re as smart as him,” the one named John said.

You turned to him. “Is there a question in there?”

A younger man, named Carl, smiled. “They said you have a black belt in jiujutsu and mixed martial arts as well.”

"I still don’t hear any question,” you said smiling before taking a sip of your coffee.

“I guess what they were getting at is why are you in the labs with us?” the only other woman in your lab team, Hailey, asked. “You can be one of them with that credentials,” she continued, nodding towards the direction of the quinjet.

It’s not a new question; you’ve heard variations of it a lot of times when you were growing up with Tony. And the answer has always been the same. “Someone has to look after his back.”

They all cocked their heads to the side. “You can’t watch someone’s back if you’re too close to them. I’m better at protecting him from here; where I can see clearer.”

Your team was surprised that you’re foregoing the fame that comes with standing side-by-side Tony Stark. Then they all nodded, newfound respect shining in their eyes.

“Besides, I’m really not good at limelights. That’s Anthony’s thing, I’m more of the fly-under-the-radar type,” you continued lightly.

“You mean you’re the lab rat type,” John joked cautiously but relaxed when you broke out into a belly laugh.

***

The third time you saw Natasha was in the training room. A part of the being a S.H.I.E.L.D agent was to know how to fight. Even though you have a background on different fighting styles, you still pushed yourself to train harder. You found out a long time ago that you liked training in private and that’s how Nat found you punching and kicking at the bag until it broke open. She stole your file from Maria, she knows your credentials but something about you irks her.

“What did the bag do to you?” Nat asked from the doorway in lieu of a greeting.

You looked up at the sound of her voice and you smiled at her when you spotted her leaning against the doorway. Nat thought your smile was charming but she wouldn’t be caught dead admitting that.

"Good morning, Agent Romanoff,” you said before picking up your water bottle and chugging the contents of it.

Nat didn’t mean to but she followed the movement of your throat, down the curve of your neck to your tracksuit covered chest. You coughed to catch her attention. When she looks up she didn’t know whether she wanted to punch or kiss the smug look off your face. So what if you caught her blatantly checking you out?

“Training at this hour?” she asked holding your eyes. She’s Natasha Romanoff, she’s not gonna be intimidated just because you’re super cute.

“Yes, I woke up early for a conference call in Geneva. I couldn’t go back to sleep. So, I thought I might as well just start early," you explained.

You tried not to vomit the words but failed spectacularly. Nat thought it was adorable as she watches you wrap a protective bandage against your bruising hand.

“You’re still working at Stark Industries?” she asked impressed.

“Technically, yes. I’m a member of the board and consultant. I mostly only work with Pepper and Tony now,” you answered.

Something about Natasha renders you unable to give simple answers, it annoyed you. When she didn't say anything else, you took it as your queue to leave. You’ve heard how the Black Widow likes her space, keeps to herself and not one who gets chummy with agents.

“Do you want to train with me?” Nat asked.

Something about her voice gave away her hesitation. You looked at her bewildered at first but you grinned before dropping your bag and joining her in the mat.

Nat didn’t show it but she was glad you decided to stay. In the few minutes that you were talking, Nat found herself wanting to get to know you better. She did her own research on you because she thought you’re just another billionaire, philanthropist, playgirl but you proved yourself different. You’re modest and don’t brag about your lifestyle. In the weeks that she has observed you, Nat found that you’re also infinitely funnier than Tony.

***

Time flew by the moment Nat started throwing punches, as well as directions on how to fight better. One cat scratch on your eyebrow and a busted lip later, people started pouring in the training room for their morning exercise including Steve and Clint.

“Get those injuries cleaned and checked out at the infirmary,” Nat said before hopping off the mat and passing both boys on her way out. You didn’t see it but Nat narrowed her eyes at them, which made both of them chuckle before turning to you. Clint came over to you first, introducing himself formally.

“You got a death wish or something?” Clint asked lightly, his eyes alight with mischief.

You cocked your head to the side, not understanding the line of questioning.

“No one asks Natasha to spar or train, ever. She’s the learn-from-your-failure kind of teacher,” Clint continued chuckling.

You shouldered your bag. “I didn’t ask her to train. She did,” you said before smiling and walking back to your room to shower.

Clint blinked once, twice before he caught Steve’s eyes who clearly heard what you said. They both started grinning at each other, the same thought running in their head.

***

It’s like the world tilted off its axis ever since Nat found you in the training room. Since then you’ve been seeing her more like she stopped actively avoiding you. While you made strides befriending Steve, Clint, and Bruce; Natasha still needed a little work but that was okay. You were willing to wait until she’s ready.

It was enough that she works out with you every morning when she’s not out on a mission. It was enough that she trains you to become a stronger, faster, better agent than you already were. Coupled with your smart weapons inventions and deadly fighting skills, Fury even lets you officially join Agent Hill’s tactical team.

Nat was secretly so proud yet madly worried when you go on missions without the Avengers because she likes having your back and vice versa. You make a deadly efficient team; dare she say better than she is with Clint. She tries not to dwell so much on what it means, or what it means when her heart race when you get injured in battle, or what it means when her breath caught in her throat when you smile at her but Clint won’t let her. Clint takes it upon himself to bug Natasha, in private, to inspect these feelings.

“If you ask me, I think you may have a crush,” he said one time after you all got back from a joint mission in Sokovia. Fresh off the shower, and lounging on Nat’s bed Clint waited for her to finish drying her hair.

Even over the sound of the dryer on her hand, Nat heard him. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought and begrudgingly, she knows that her best friend was right. After all, he was one of the few people who know her best but he doesn’t need to know that, did he?

“Thankfully, I’m not asking you,” she said after exiting the bathroom and flopping down beside Clint.

Clint laughed hard and rolled onto his back. Seeing this side of Natasha makes him happy.

***

Steve figured it out next. Thankfully, he isn’t as nosy as Clint but it still annoys Nat when she sees him smiling every time he sees her talking to you.

Bruce found out after Clint not-so-subtly elbowed her when you entered the compound in crisps red three-piece suit and whispering business with Tony. You two were so engrossed with looking at your tablets, you both didn’t notice the rest of the team watching. You only noticed them on your way out. So you waved goodbye, Nat may or may not have stared at your ass as you exit the room.

“Close your mouth, Natalia. It’s very unbecoming,” Tony whispered on Nat’s ear. Nat groaned before averting her eyes and turning around to face Tony’s very smug face.

At that moment, she knew she was doomed but she’s not gonna fold to Tony Stark; no matter what.

“Not a word, Stark,” she warned.

“What? I haven’t said anything yet,” Tony defended.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

“What? I think you like my sister?” Tony challenged playfully. Nat only glared at him before opening the magazine she stopped reading the moment you walked in looking like a dream.

“I mean, how can I blame you? She’s perfection. She’s smart without being annoying like me, she’s beautiful, funny and above all, loyal.” Tony said solemnly

Nat glanced up at him. At least, they can agree on some things.

“I…” Nat started. Tony held her eye, definitely waiting for her to lie and deny his accusation. “I do but keep your mouth shut or I’ll cut your tongue.”

Tony smiled amidst the definitely real threat as he sees the genuine fondness that’s usually absent in the cool, collected Black Widow’s eyes. He resolved to keep his mouth shut, for the moment, at least.

***

Nat was so sure one of the boys would rather out the moment they get you alone but a few weeks after the confrontation with Tony, Nat can see no change in your behavior whatsoever to indicate that someone squeaked. She’s secretly grateful because the last thing she wants is for your budding friendship to turn awkward just because of a schoolgirl crush.

‘It’s just a crush’ has become Natasha’s personal mantra that she recites in her head every time you so much as smile at her while passing the corridor. And while Nat resolved to do absolutely nothing about her feelings, the universe seems to have a different plan. The following weeks, the universe launched into a series of events that helped Nat ease into accepting that she has indeed fallen in love with you

First, Fury sent you and Tony on a tandem mission in an undisclosed location, which launches Nat into a full-blown panic.

“Agent Romanoff,” Fury said first.

Nat didn’t back down on her demand to send Steve or her or anyone as back up. Fury watched his other sort of adoptive daughter quietly and carefully. Nat tried not to squirm under the scrutinizing gaze of the only father figure she has in her life. Fury smiled eerily when he caught up. Maria tried not to chuckle but failed.

“Agent Y/L/N is more than capable of completing a simple mission,” Fury finished before turning on his heel and walking away. Before he leaves, he looked back at Natasha. “Stand down Agent Romanoff, that’s an order.”

Nat huffed and kicked her boot down on the concrete floor. Steve, Clint, and Maria exchanged worried yet amused looks across each other. “Sit down,” Steve gently dragged her over one of the chairs in the command center.

“She’ll be fine. Y/N is not only a good fighter but she’s also a genius,” Clint tried to assure Nat but nothing can make her sit still.

She worries about you, she worries that Tony will be too distracted to watch your back properly and she wouldn’t be there to protect you. Nat tried to reason to herself that the burning need to protect you is because you’re a part of their team, and she protects her team.

***

A few hours passed and Nat couldn’t stay and do nothing. She stood up and walked towards the same exit Fury went through. Steve caught her arm. “Where are you going?”

Nat pulled her arm back, “I can’t stay here Steve! I will find her and make sure she comes home to me.”

Everyone smartly decided not to comment on that one. They all understand that having romantic feelings for someone is really foreign for Natasha. It’ll be suicide to push her.

“Fury gave you an order,” Steve, ever diplomatic, said.

“Fuck what Nick said,” Nat nearly yelled before taking a few stomping steps back.

Back away from the door and completely caught up in her worry and fighting with Steve, Nat didn’t see you and Tony step inside the room.

“Woah! Language,” Tony said then smiled at everyone before walking directly to where Fury keeps his precious Scotch.

“Miss me, Agent Romanoff?” you asked cheekily.

Nat felt all the stress of the past few hours leave her body the moment the sound of your voice entered her ears and registered in her brain. She turned to look at you, and you greeted her with a warm smile. You were surprised when Nat stormed towards you, looking royally pissed. You were prepared for a slap in your arm for whatever it is she’s pissed at you for but it didn’t come. She immediately pulled you into a hug before she can talk herself out of it.

This isn’t the first time Nat touched you. Ever since you’ve started training together, Nat seems to always find a reason to touch you. May it be holding your hand a little longer after helping you up from the mat or laying her head against your shoulder as you both try to get your breathing back after some intense sparring session or touching the ends of your hair whenever you’re sitting close together on movie nights. All these touches though are done in relative privacy; not like this, not where the Avengers and half of S.H.I.E.L.D are there to watch.

You smiled before wrapping your arms around her strong frame. If you were being honest, the mission was easy but you’re bone-tired after that ambush at the end of your mission. Clint cleared his throat, and Nat pulled away slightly but only to assess your physical well-being. She frowned when she noted your dirty suit, the small cut on your eyebrow, and your busted lip.

“I’m okay,” you whispered without breaking eye contact.

She didn’t answer, she just runs the pad of her thumb across your busted lip before kissing you.

***

“What?” Asya yelled, interrupting your story. The two of you are lying on your back inside her makeshift fort. “She kissed you first?”

“Yes. She did,” you answered. She looked so surprised for a second before she broke into a laughing fit.

“I guess, legends are just that; legends,” Asya said merrily after getting a hold of her sanity back.

You gasped. “Hey! Have you seen your mama?” you asked in mock offense.

Asya smiled at the dreamy look on your face. She secretly loves how much you love Natasha, even after all the time you’ve been together, and apart. It was impressive.

“She’s as breathtaking as the day I met her,” you said softly. “How would I know someone like her can like someone like me?”

Asya rolled to her side and lay her head on your chest. “You’re an idiot, mom.”

“Already? I thought I was just getting to that part,” you said before kissing her forehead.

***

You still haven’t figured out if it’s lucky that Fury officially made you an Avenger after that tandem mission with Tony a week prior or a curse because now, you have to move in on the compound with the rest of the team and deal with the boys’ teasing and being around Nat more often. Speaking of Nat, you hadn’t seen her for a week after she kissed you in the command center where everyone - literally everyone - saw. Maria said Nat asked Fury to send her on a mission.

‘So, she’s avoiding me,’ you thought.

An ache blooms in your chest when you think of Nat regretting that kiss but the time you spent training with Nat every morning taught you that she’s not good with feelings. Her history, her past, taught her that love is for children. She didn’t become the legendary Black Widow by being soft and loving, she became the Black Widow by being deadly. So you resolved not to push her, as well as not push your feelings towards her. She will come around if she wants to.

***

You and Nat saw each other exactly thirteen days after the kissing incident. You weren’t planning on counting but you did because you missed being in her company. It just so happened that you’re both busy people; she’s out there saving the world most of the time and you? Well, you’re juggling being an Avenger, a S.H.I.E.L.D lab rat, and a member of the board for Stark Industries. So you don’t exactly have a lot of time either. It took thirteen days before the universe, Fury and your schedules permitted you both to be in the same room for more than just two minutes.

It was midnight, you were walking the halls of the Avengers compound to your room when you heard groaning and sobbing inside Natasha’s room. Panicked that someone was able to slip inside everyone’s defenses and attack Nat, you opened the door and went inside her room with your gun in your hand. When you step in, Nat’s seating up on her bed alone. You checked her surroundings first. When you were positive you two are alone, you holstered your gun and called out for her.

“Tasha,” you whispered softly as not to startle her but she didn’t make a move to acknowledge you.

You walked in front of her. Only then did she blinked and looked at you. It must be a nightmare, you though; based on the beads of sweat on her forehead, the sheets balled up on her fist, quick breathing and unfocused eyes.

“Y/N?” she asked as softly.

“It’s okay. You’re okay, you’re safe,” you tried to assure her but she only started shivering at your words. You sat beside her and pulled her in a hug. You continued to rock her gently and whisper words of assurance until her breathing slows and her heart rate came back to normal.

When Nat pulled back, you stood up to let her get back to sleep but she held on the hem of your suit like a little girl. You look at the fingers holding you in place and then back to her face a couple of times before she said something. “Can you sleep here with me?”

It took you a couple of seconds to figure that Nat wasn’t joking. You smiled before motioning her to lie down. She watched you peel away the layers of your suit. Had it been a different setting, you would have died from the intensity of the way she looks at you. Stripped down to your polo shirt and trousers, you started to climb her bed, only for a soft fabric to meet your face.

“Lose the pants and change into that. It’s more comfortable,” she explained.

“You buy your own Black Widow merch?” you teased her as you change the shirt she gave you.

Nat groaned playfully, averting your eyes as you start to undress in front of her shamelessly. “Yeah, a drawer full of it. I can’t resist quality,” she said casually.

“Well, you’re right. This shirt is really comfortable,” you answered after plopping down next to her.

“Told you,” she said before rolling on her side and scooting over until her back touches your front.

You’ve cuddled some in your lifetime, you can take the hint. You figured that taking hints is especially crucial to any kind of relationship with Natasha. So you learned how to read her earlier on, or at least try.

Safe and secured in your arms, Nat couldn’t help but sigh blissfully at the warmth emanating from your body, the feel of your arms around her torso, your chin on her shoulder, and your breathing against her ear.

“Thank you,” Nat half whispered half moaned.

Feeling emboldened, you kissed her shoulder. Thankfully Nat didn’t freeze at the contact. “From here onwards, know that you have me; always.”

Nat sighed. “It’s the red room,” she said simply. Something about the moment made it easy for Nat to open up.

Unconsciously, you tightened your hold against her. You’ve heard third-person accounts of the red room but never from the source. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I do,” Nat sighed out before turning in your arms and resting her head against your chest. She sighed once again before launching in the story of the red room. The sky outside her window was starting to turn purple when Nat finished telling her story and drifted off to peaceful slumber in your arms.

***

You noticed that after the nightmare fiasco, Nat is a little easier to approach than usual. She’s even more open to hanging out with you since then, which you didn’t mind because you love spending any time with her. May it be going on coffee dates (as Nat loves calling it) or training like a madwoman in the gym or sneaking out of the compound in the middle of the night to drive and get a midnight snack.

You absolutely love spending time together and getting to know each other in the process. You tried your hardest to slow down your descent to imminent heartbreak but you knew at that point that it was useless. You knew that even though you’ll only get heartbroken because Nat couldn’t possibly like a nerd like you, you’ll do it over again. Over and over and over again, if it meant you’ll always be by her side.

Unbeknownst to you, Nat had the same internal struggle about how someone like you can’t like a killer like her. She didn’t try to shove down her feelings they way she always does though. She tried but it was too late; her feelings for you sneaked up at her like an assassin. Of course, she knew she was attracted to you when she kissed you a couple of weeks ago but it was only after the nightmare incident that she allowed herself to want you for more than just carnal reasons.

You started to become a steady presence in her life, more than just a teammate. While kissing you in front of the whole team and S.H.I.E.L.D was a grand spur of the moment decision, one that she doesn’t regret, she lives for the little moments as well. She loves the way you seem to remember small details like how she takes her coffee, or the way you subtly take care of her by always cleaning her weapons too before going on missions, or the way you always pack a spare jacket just in case you finds yourselves on the eye of climate change. She loves the way you easily make her feel safe and calm. She loves the way you weren’t shy to deviate from the headstrong, broody character everyone knows you are and make a fool out of yourself just to make her laugh.

***

The only problem was, you both suck at talking about your feelings, let alone admitting them. You had the same but lowkey reputation with women like Tony, and she’s the Black Widow; Miss love-is-for-children. Everyone tried to help both of you confess; Tony and Maria tried to help you tell Natasha your feelings while Steve and Clint tried to help Nat ask you out but the world seems to have a crisis every time one or both of you decides to make a move.

“Maybe the universe is trying to tell me something,” Nat sighed as she walks to the quinjet after being called for a mission with Steve and Clint.

“I never pegged you to believe in signs from the universe,” Clint teased lightly.

Steve narrowed his eyes but Clint was never scared of Nat’s wrath. Besides, Nat was too distracted to be offended.

“Let’s just finish this shit as fast as we can,” Nat replied offhandedly while buckling herself in.

“We haven’t even left yet,” Steve said. Lips tugging upwards subtly. He likes seeing this side of Nat.

“I know, and I miss her already.”

***

“Wow,” Asya burst out; interrupting your story, again. “You two are,” she paused to search for the right word in her vocabulary.

Saps! Venom supplied.

Asya giggled. “Correct! You two are saps!”

You don’t know the half of it, child, Venom complained. It’s disgusting.

You laughed so hard, the walls of your makeshift fort shook.

***

The team tried to finish their assignment as fast as they could but it still took them five days. Five days with no communication with you made Nat almost jumped out of the quinjet the moment its tires hit solid ground. Clint and Steve just chuckled as they watch Nat power walk towards the compound. When they caught up with her, Nat’s frowning so hard on her phone.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked tentatively.

“Y/N’s not home,” Nat replied, clearly disappointed.

Before anyone can say anything Nat’s phone alerted her of a new message. Nat’s frown only deepened.

“I’m gonna guess. Not Y/N?” Clint asked teasingly.

Nat locked her phone before putting it on her back pocket. “No, it’s Maria. She said they’re at Stark Stadium. They need us to fill the Starks team.”

A couple of S.H.I.E.L.D agents passed by. “Let’s check it out. Agent Johnson said, Agent Y/L/N’s team is hot,” one agent said, not realizing that the three Avengers were on the other side of the room.

“What do you expect? Agent Y/L/N is hot,” another answered. The other two laughed.

Nat gritted her teeth before clearing her throat to announce her presence. The agents turned around so fast, the boys wondered if they had whiplash.

“Don’t you have better things to do, agents?” Nat said sternly.

The three agents gulped, nodded and scuttled away like ants on fire. Natasha watched them until they disappeared in the corner.

“Calm down, Nat. I’m sure they’re not that hot,” Clint tried to assure her as he stirs her to the direction of the garage.

***

Clint gulped when she saw who you were teammates with.

“Not hot, huh?” Nat said eerily calm as she watches you with your team.

Out of your S.H.I.E.L.D uniform, and in your black and red number 13 jersey you looked so much younger, more carefree. Nat smiled internally. She realized that as much as leather-clad Y/N is hot, she much prefers you on casual clothing because you look happier.

“How am I supposed to know Y/N’s friends with a lot of stunners?” Clint defended with a pout.

He knows there’s a flaw in his defense. Of course, you’ll be friends with a lot of beautiful people; you’re basically brothers with Tony Stark. You’re smart, funny, and beautiful too. Naturally, people gravitate toward you.

Nat put her hand up to silence Clint. Clint and Steve followed her gaze back towards the field where a certain blonde, wearing the same black and red uniform jogged towards you and tackled you in a hug. Nat watched as said blonde didn’t let go, and worst of all casually planted a soft kiss against the side of your face; dangerously close to your mouth.

“That’s Sara Lance, heiress to Lance Corp in Star City. Y/N’s last real ex-girlfriend,” Maria suddenly spoke beside her. “Also, I’m sure you’d like to know, she declared she came here to win Y/N back.”

Nat balled her fist before walking towards Tony’s side of the pit.

***

“Give me a uniform,” Nat demanded.

Tony laughed so hard, you heard it from across the field.

“I had a feeling you’ll want to be on my team,” he said before handing Nat a shirt with your last name on it.

Nat quirked an eyebrow.

“How am I supposed to know you’re coming back in time for the game? This is Y/N’s new uniform but she insisted on wearing her old one. So you can have this one,” Tony explained.

Steve face-palmed at the sheer dumb excuse but also the ingenuity of it. Stark has a parent-trapping game, Steve can give him that.

***

The game was supposed to be a ‘friendly’ match between the two tech giants but for some reason that escaped you, it was intense from the start. Sara refused to be subbed by Maria and played head to head against Natasha, which you definitely didn’t know played soccer.

“I didn’t know you play,” you panted out as you run the ball towards the goal with Nat running close beside you.

“You don’t know a lot of things about me,” Nat said as she tries to run and tackle you.

You scrunch your brow together but didn’t stop running. Before Nat can make try to take you down again, Sara came barrelling towards her; allowing you to run freely to your goal.

Score for Lance Corp! Amaya, Zari and Gideon crowded towards you. So you were unable to see Nat and Sara glaring at each other as they dust their uniforms off.

“So, you’re the Natasha Y/N can’t stop talking about,” Sara said candidly. “I’m Sara Lance, Y/N’s girlfriend.”

“Ex-girlfriend,” Natasha said deathly calm but Sara was never known to be easily scared.

Sara smirked. “Maybe but not for long,” she said confidently before running away to join your little group hug.

Nat frowned deeper as she watches Sara pull your body against her lit form and you seemingly unperturbed about it.

“Take her word seriously,” Tony said suddenly from behind Natasha. “If Lance is here to take Y/N back, she will do it. She’s smart and tenacious. So, play your cards right.”

“Play your cards right? That’s your advice?” Steve questioned incredulously. “I think you should just ask her out after the game.”

“Trust me, Y/N can’t be wooed by flowers, chocolates, and fancy dinner. People tried,” Tony said after rolling his eyes.

Maria sighed, which prompted everyone to look at her. “Got unsolicited advice for me, Hill?” Nat asked teasingly.

“Stop running away,” Maria said as she stood and get ready to get back on the field. “You kissed her and then disappeared for a week. You made her feel like you didn’t want her.”

The three gaped and watched the elusive Deputy Director as she runs back to the field and high-five you. Steve patted Nat’s shoulder before jogging back in too.

“I guess Hill trumps all our advice. Now come on, we have asses to kick,” Tony relented.

***

The game ended with Stark Industries winning, Nat wanted to gloat but none of the Lance Corp women seem to mind losing at all.

“Congratulations,” you whispered behind Nat. Nat tried to suppress the shiver but it was too late, she knew you saw it by the smirk on your face. She smiled at you.

“Thanks. This would have been more fun if you played in our team,” Nat said crossing her arms in front of her chest.

You shook your head. “You don’t mean that. I know you like that you bested me,” you said smiling.

Nat glanced at you before grinning. “You’re right. I did,” she admitted.

Your heart seemed to flutter every time Nat smiles at you like that. You wanted to say something, you wanted to pour your heart out to her at that moment but Sara yelled for you. Nat sighed heavily, and you gave her a sheepish smile. Sara yelled your name again, now louder and closer. Before you turned around you, Nat reached out and held your hand.

“Lance, stop yelling. I heard you the first time,” you said casually.

Sara ignored you and zeroed in on your joined hand. You tried not to squirm as the two sized up each other. Suddenly the room felt too quiet.

“Did you need anything urgent, Lance?” Nat snapped.

Sara peeled her eyes off your hands in Natasha and smiled sweetly. “Care to show this girl a good time?”

Nat rolled her eyes as Sara blatantly ignores her and flirts with you. You wanted to say that the city only became fun when you met Natasha. You wanted to tell Sara that fun isn’t about drinking yourself to stupor anymore, or getting high on your boat while you two cross the Atlantic. Instead, fun is making breakfast together with Natasha, training and kicking each other’s butt in the gym, sneaking out in the middle of the day to get a massage with Natasha, napping and cuddling Natasha, going on coffee dates with Natasha.

You wanted to say all that but your friends from Lance Corp came all the way from Star City to spend time with you and Tony. The least you both can do was show them a good time. You caught Tony’s eyes behind Sara, he smiled at you. The kind of smile that says, ‘I got a plan’. Sara caught the interaction and she knew they’re in for a long night.

“Get ready to party, Lance,” you said grinning.

***

The Avengers are not new to Stark parties. What they - especially Natasha - wasn’t ready for was you on party mode wearing the skinniest leather pants, tight black backless halter top, and boots. You arrived fashionably late with Maria.

“Mission accomplishes, agent,” Maria whispered as she watches Nat and Sara practically drooling the moment they laid eyes on you. You ducked your head to hide the faint blush creeping up to your neck and cheeks. Dressing up was Maria’s idea.

Nat was about to stand and walk towards you but Sara beat her to it.

“Patience, little spider,” Tony sat crossed leg beside Nat the moment Maria joined their table without you.

Nat turned to look for you and she nearly crushed the glass on her hand when she saw you dancing with Sara. It doesn’t help that Sara’s not only standing way too close but she also has her hand secured against your hips. Sara caught Nat’s eyes from across the dimly lit ballroom. It almost took every ounce of her self control not to go there and claim you but she didn’t want to give her the satisfaction.

Nat breathed in deep before taking a swig of her drink. Tony’s right, she has to be patient. Unfortunately for Nat, Sara was planned to monopolize you all night. Two hours after you arrived but Nat still hasn’t had the chance to at least talk to you. She had to step out.

***

When Nat opened the door to the back of the club, she was surprised to see you leaning casually on the adjacent wall; a bottle of water in hand.

“Took you long enough,” you chirped before opening the bottled water in your hand.

Nat scrunched her eyebrows. “What? How?” she stuttered out.

You smirked at her over the rim of the water bottle. “You’re not the only stealthy one, Tasha,” you said an octave lower than your speaking voice.

Nat bristled, “I thought you were with Sara?” She didn’t even try to hide the edge and tightness in her voice.

“I was then I missed you,” you said earnestly before walking towards her.

You left two feet between you. She didn’t say something for a minute, she just continued to frown at you.

You studied her for a minute before you decided that Nat’s really not in a bad mood. “Aw, are you jealous?”, you teased lightly.

Nat frowned deeper. The blatant ‘no’ is at the tip of her tongue but she didn’t want to lie, not to you; never to you. She held your eye before whispering a breathy, “yes.”

You stood toe-to-toe with her. You cupped her face on both of your hands. Nat held her breathe. “There’s nothing to be jealous about, Tasha.”

Nat couldn’t help it any longer. She pulled you by your hands on her face and wrapped you in a hug. You chuckled before wrapping your arms around her steady shoulders.

“I love you, Y/N,” Nat blurted out.

She expected you to freeze at the mention of the words. After all, you’re both allergic to love but it didn’t come. You stayed relaxed in her arms, and she can feel you smiling over her shoulder. She pulled back a little to look at you.

“I love you too, Tasha,” you said before planting a soft kiss on her cute nose. Nat chuckled, had it been anyone else, she will be annoyed but can’t with you. “Now, let’s go eat. I’m hungry from all that dancing.”

Nat watched you walk out of the alley and into the street for a minute before jogging up to you. “Wait, does this mean you’re my girlfriend now?” you heard her call after you.

“Hurry up or this will be the shortest relationship ever,” you joked.

Nat mocked gasped after catching up to you, just in time for a cab to sidled next to both of you. You were about to reach for the cab door when Nat pulled you back and pulled you in for another bruising kiss.

The cab driver rolled his eyes playfully but waited for both of you nonetheless.

‘Ah! Love’, he thought to himself and smiled.

The kissed lasted for a minute. Only breaking away from each other after the need for air persisted. You peered at Nat’s eyes lovingly. At that moment, on the side of the street with a very patient cab waiting for you, you decided Natasha will be the last woman you’ll ever be with. You’ll make sure of it.

***

Asya let out a soft ‘aww’ and nothing else. You listened to the steady rhythm of her breathing and you knew she has fallen asleep. You smiled down at your little miracle, and just before you could close your eyes your mobile phone vibrated next to you.

Wife: I hope you’re not feeding our daughter junk food. Much. I love you, see you tomorrow.

You: I did not. Much. I miss you, I love you. See you tomorrow. xx

#raven writes #avengers imagine #mcu imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanova x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanova x you #natasha romanov x you #black widow x you #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanov imagine #natasha romanova imagine #black widow imagine #see you in a minute

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dearsubconscious · 4 years

Text

Warning: the following is a story of psychological/emotional/narcissistic abuse that may be hard for some readers.

Finding the right emotions to say

Some context is needed before you continue reading. This is an introduction to my new Tumblr account and an overview of how my story started. I originally wrote this in May of 2019. When I wrote this, I was trying to get out all of my thoughts during a very dark time. I wrote this over the course of weeks of sleepless nights when my mind wouldn’t stop running. It may read a bit disorganized, but I wrote it as a way to explain to the people that matter to me what I had come to realize about myself. Only two people have read it prior to me posting this, neither of which are my family members. I am still not comfortable with any of my family knowing about this and I have never really talked about many of the details of what happened out loud, even to the two people that have read this. Many of my specific memories are not included in this story...some were just too brutal for me to even write out without completely mentally breaking down at the time. I have decided to start telling my story as a way of mental therapy. Even if nobody on here reads this all of the way through, it will help me mentally just to organize my memories and thoughts. I hope that I can also open a discussion on a sensitive and (I believe) very overlooked topic, hard as it may be to talk about. If you have found yourself in a similar situation, I truly hope that have a better present and/or future. I wouldn’t wish this mental torture on anyone. As you will see in posts that follow this one, I will explain how the long term effects of the mental damage have caused persistent problems with my relationships with all people that matter to me, my working life, my financial stability and my overall health. This is a long read, but here it goes:

Please read all of this carefully and in its entirety. Its long and it will be uncomfortable to read, but it’s very important to me. I would prefer that it be read all at once, which may take a little while, so if you don’t have time to soak it all in, please save it for another time.

My mind goes around and around in very vicious circles of emotions. I feel...well...a lot...is all I can describe in simple terms. That just doesn’t cut it, though. I keep telling myself that I’m probably insane. I don’t know if I just don’t want to believe it, if I’m just hurting that bad, if I’m in shock or if there is something deeper than that that I just don’t understand. I’m not sure if I know what to feel or believe anymore because my own mind has been keeping an enormous secret for years...

I know who I used to be and who I want to be and for years I have been upsetting myself on a nearly hourly basis because I can’t figure out why I behave the way that I do in many normal situations. I know what the right thing to do is in almost every case, but I can’t seem to be able to do the right thing most of the time anymore. The most logical explanation, until very recently, was just to blame it on regular stress. It seemed too obvious, yet it has a very empty and incomplete generalization of what I would actually be feeling. I have continued with my habits and behaviors very frustrated with myself every time, which is usually many times daily. I spend a lot of time contemplating why I don’t feel okay even though so many things are going well in my life. It’s like I’ve been living very much in a haze and I don’t believe or understand who I am.

The impulsive eating, nagging need to always be doing something special or interesting, yet always coming up short or simply doing nothing at all (and knowing the whole time that there was always something else that I needed to be doing to be more “responsible”), impulsive buying, and, above all else, the incredibly infuriating mental “freeze” that has seemed to be ever present in everything that I do. Most prominent were the “freezes” in my passions, in tasks that are incredibly important and almost anytime I have to make a decision. Not following through on so many things and seeming apathetic about the task of finishing. I would, again, just tell myself that it’s from stress, but I always knew that this was simply not true. Most people use stress as a motivator to get things done, but not me. I, for some reason, find myself doing the exact opposite. This leaves me very frustrated, empty, and numb.

I stress eat a lot and this, coupled with other bad habits feel impossible to break even though I very much mentally want to. I “freeze” at the moment that I should make a better choice and feel great anxiety when faced with the decision. I usually end up doing nothing at all, or doing the wrong or bad thing, thinking that it’s just easier and thoughtless. I hate myself for it. I really do believe that I can and will get better someday; that I will be much healthier; that I will work out regularly; that I will be productive every day, but instead I fall victim to my own mind almost every time...

Years ago, small physical/mental changes started happening to me that I couldn’t explain; long before the seemingly learned or self-induced behaviors that I just explained.

I was always a night owl, but through most of my childhood and early teenage years I would do it on purpose to do things like watch movies, play video games, etc. As I grew older, however, it started happening without a desire to. I was very alarmed by this at first. I couldn’t sleep even though I tried hard to; even though I was tired and exhausted; and I would fight very hard to change my poor sleep habits. I started to believe that maybe I had caused my own insomnia from staying up late as a kid, but there was a very different...anxious...feeling underneath it.

Through most of my school years I had been an eloquent speaker and writer. I would get compliments on it from teachers, family, family friends and strangers frequently. However, during high school I began to trip on my words at times and I would have to find simpler words to use when speaking and writing. I thought for years that this was attributed to my lack of sleep. Maybe it was. But this started to feel like a chain that didn’t make sense, as it couldn’t be attributed to simple stress, but was undoubtedly connected.

I’ve always been a very...very...patient person. I remember my step mother said years ago that I have an “old soul.” She described me this way as a compliment to my patient, calm, wise and passive demeanor in everything that I do. So when I began experiencing deep anxiety that would violently wake me up in the middle of the night during my few hours of sleep, I was very alarmed. I noticed that my attention span began getting shorter. In more recent years, I began lashing out, breaking my calm and passive personality. I get uncharacteristically angry or upset with little things that never bothered me before and do it visibly for those around me with immediate and harsh behaviors. I despise this more than almost any other behavior that I have. I feel that I’ve lost control when it happens and I immediately regret it. It isn’t who I am...

As time has progressed into full adulthood, I have found even the simplest of tasks incredibly hard to be motivated about. The “freeze” began spreading to things such as picking up something that I dropped on the floor. I would feel very anxious about the task of picking it up but truly frozen from simply picking it up for long periods of time because my brain would just go around in vicious circles of stress. I became a messy person. I was no longer able to prioritize tasks in my mind in a proper manner. It’s incredibly embarrassing when I get caught in a mental freeze as it is, generally, pretty visibly obvious on my face. And, as recent as the last few months I have been struggling much more deeply with words when speaking. I will start to say something and know exactly what I want to say, but it seems as though my brain is working much faster and cluttered than my mouth. I won’t be able to get out a full word or phrase. The words will very literally slur together in my mouth and no matter how hard I try I am unable to say it properly. Even if I try to slow my words way down I can’t get it out. It’s like a mental block between my brain and mouth. It’s mentally very frustrating and painful.

I feel that I have lost the ability to fight most of my impulses, leading me to eat poorly and a lot, spend a lot, laze around in a fog a lot, etc. I know that this deeply frustrates those around me and I hate it when it does. I want to change my habits and impulses, but it mentally just isn’t that easy for me...I’ve needed help with this for years and I just don’t know how to admit it or face it. I also don’t know how anyone would actually help and asking for help feels very weak and stupid...

Under pressure from difficult situations or pressure-driven decisions, I freeze in a way that infuriates those around me and it infuriates even my self very deeply. Sometimes my freeze causes me to make a wrong or bad decision almost unconsciously. This leads me to a dark, swirling set of emotions about my self, especially when I’m called out for my wrongdoing.

I’ve also had a very low self esteem for quite some time that has been ever present in all aspects of my life and overcoming it at times is incredibly difficult. I have become a very shy, easily embarrassed, easily uncomfortable person for things that should excite me or bring joy and I just can’t seem to get passed my self-made walls. And I hide these insecurities as best as I can so that nobody knows that I’m actually in very bad mental distress at any given moment...which has been more often than not for a while...

I’ve had a deep and growing feeling of confusion and despair. I used to be very depressed in middle school and high school that I was sure I had gotten past, but I’m not sure anymore. I knew that I had been through the worst feelings of my life, but it seems to all be coming back to haunt me in a very different way that I never could have imagined. And I’ve been very lost and numb from my confusion over what has been happening to me.

I have spent years trying to justify my actions and behaviors to myself as “stress” or something similar simply because I have had no idea what has been happening to me...

Then something occurred that sparked something sleeping much deeper in my subconscious than any of that...

A little over two months ago a random video came rolling through my Facebook feed about physical abuse in a specific relationship in England. This happened recently and I believe that it said that this was the first case where a female was charged with physical assault for abuse in a relationship against a man in the UK. I haven’t seen or read much about true abuse in relationships, so I watched the whole short video to understand the specifics. It told the story of what happened to the boyfriend and how it went almost unnoticed by everyone even with glaring signs and such seeming-apathy from both the man and the woman about his constant injuries. He would make up stories to everyone including the police and hospitals about his injuries because he feared for his life. One day recently, the police were called to their residence for a yelling-noise complaint made by the neighbors. Upon arriving they found the man bloody on the stairs, and he told them that he tripped and fell and hit his head (because his girlfriend was in the room). They agreed, aided him, but immediately noticed the many other injuries that weren’t as new and they recognized the signs right away from experience. Through some coercing, they managed to pull him outside, away from his girlfriend, and got the real story from him. She had been manipulating, threatening, hitting and cutting him on a daily basis for years since nearly the beginning of their relationship to control him and trap him. The police officer that spotted the signs and made it a point to bring out the truth and knew that he would be more likely to talk about it away from the girlfriend because he was afraid for his life.

I couldn’t comprehend going through such obvious physical trauma and nearly being overlooked. I am thankful that I have never been physically abused. I immediately scrolled on and distracted myself with some video of planes, I’m sure.

But for the next several days I kept thinking about that video and story and I couldn’t get this weird feeling out of my head about it. I couldn’t place it at first but it began to remind me of the overarching confusion and despair that I have been feeling for a long time about my self. It felt very...not at all nostalgic...but familiar... It started to become far more clear from there...

I immediately began researching and reading. Perhaps too much at times...

My mom has been going through abuse for years with my step father in multiple forms and though I have subconsciously, and even quite consciously known that it was occurring, I think I was too afraid to research the specifics of the abuse. The subconscious side of my brain must have been telling me not to because I was too afraid of what I would find for a very different reason...

For over four years I was very brutally psychologically/emotionally abused every minute of every day.

Sxxx (blocked for anonymity) (a name I rarely use, because I have subconsciously wanted to block it out for the rest of my life) did far more than a little bit of manipulation to control me and everything about my life. I know this was probably somewhat apparent to most people around me but the abuse was much deeper and more prevalent than anyone could have ever known or imagined...and more than I noticed or wanted to admit to myself... She did so many things, big and small, blatant and subtle, in public and in private (mostly), that completely destroyed me mentally. I think that I blocked out each incident as best as I could and I became very visibly numb but subconsciously extremely damaged with every passing day.

As this realization began to sink in, after the Facebook story, I went into a state of emotional shock that has had me trapped in a very vicious circle of negative emotions. I began researching deeper into it and reading a lot of articles, news and health journals, Wikipedia pages, news stories, blogs, etc. that drove home the realization. But I wanted to have some sort of immediate validation of this, so I searched for quizzes by mental health organizations that help individuals determine if they are in an abusive relationship. The first quiz had a long series of “yes” or “no” questions. I read every one very carefully and took the quiz as honestly as I could, treating it as though I was still in a relationship with her and reliving the way I was treated, digging up memories that I didn’t even know that I have...and I definitely don’t want to have. When I finally reached the end, it gave a percentage score of the likelihood that I was abused... 98.8%...

The only reason that it wasn’t 100% was because the only question that I answered “no” to was a question pertaining to children and houses, which we obviously never shared.

I took another, shorter test and scored a 92% for very similar circumstances. It’s true that what I experienced wasn’t physical abuse like the story that I read, but it is, basically, absolute that I was psychologically/mentally abused for years and, while it generally doesn’t come with standard PTSD, as the world knows it, like physical abuse does, it can be seen as more serious and have much worse long term effects that tend to go mostly unnoticed, but are extremely detrimental over time...according to the research that I’ve done anyway...and which I am finding that I believe from experience... I found in the research that I have most of the long term symptoms and a lot of my behaviors and tendencies are tied to mental changes that happened during those years...

The emotions and shock came rushing in like nothing I’ve ever felt. It began with a deep upsetness, followed by a deep anger. How could I have let that happen? Why didn’t I realize this years ago? Who am I actually because of this?

The research didn’t help. I started to tell myself that it can’t be true out of pure denial, reinforced by the research. Many articles and pages seemed to have a consensus that males arent typically affected by abuse in a deep way like females and are so overwhelmingly usually the perpetrators of abuse that psychological/mental abuse against males is seen as essentially non-existent. Only four pages that I read of the dozens agreed that abuse can happen equally to any gender, in any relationship and have equal effects. But, in order to read more about symptoms, long term effects and how/why abusers abuse, I had to read articles/stories about male abusers.

I started to feel like I was crazy. Like I wasn’t supposed to feel any feelings about what happened to me. Like I was supposed to pretend that it didn’t happen at all. It feels oddly sexist of me to believe that this happened to me, and also weak of me to believe that I was so brutally abused and mentally scarred because of how so many pages and people made it a male-against-female-only situation. Maybe it is very sexist and weak of me and I need to just bottle it all up as if I never knew what happened (I essentially have been for years anyway)...maybe I am just crazy and remembering things wrong or imagining things... I know that there are many people out there that are abused and are/were in far worse situations than I am...including my own mom. I don’t know... it all just feels so...confusing and intimidating...and too much for me to understand or handle... This feeling is very reinforced by the way I was and always have been treated as a “pushover” by many people for what happened during those years... I know that I wants, but it’s far more complicated than just being a “pushover”...

Maybe not all of the issues that I listed early on in

this...whatever-you-want-to-call-it are related to what happened to me, but the more I am piecing things together, the more I am finding that it was likely the brutal subconscious driving factor in all of it. I’m far too embarrassed by it all to bring it up in person or face it and I feel very foolish and selfish to blame all of my problems on something that happened years ago, but it actually makes a lot of sense...

It’s very frustrating, as well, that every medical page that I read was about actively being in an abusive relationship and their solution to every problem was always to change the way the abuser behaved in the relationship or end the relationship entirely and that should just fix everything... yet they also all agree that there are long term effects, water the relationship has ended, that can last for years or even the rest of a persons lifetime that they just don’t discuss solutions for...

The biggest problem of all is, now knowing all of this about my likely-abuse, I still don’t know how to move forward and progress past all of these issues that I have now. I almost regret knowing more than not because it has made my emotions much stronger and more confusing. I don’t want this to define me or keep ahold of me and everything that I do, but it’s a constant battle against my own brain that I just can’t seem to win...especially as the bad memories start flooding in uncontrollably...

She used to make me believe that all problems were my fault, that I was never good enough, never would be good enough, and that I should give up on everything because I was wasting everyone’s time, energy and life including mine with my “stupid and ridiculous” ideas, hobbies, activities, etc. and I “wasn’t good at any of them anyway.” I was treated as though any decision that I made was a bad one, a wrong one, a stupid one... she would manipulate me into joining things or going to things so that she would look better than me to everyone there and try to make it look as though I didn’t care or that she was the victim...

For the entire four years I had to be in constant contact (usually by text) within every 5 minutes at most to prove that I wasn’t ignoring or “cheating” on her. If I didn’t answer within five minutes I usually received a text that read “bye” to make me feel abandoned, worthless and guilty. It would make me feel as though I had been ruining her life. I would be constantly (usually a dozen times a day or more) having to apologize and explain myself. She would usually continue to ignore my long pleading messages for several hours or even until the next day, then either pretend like nothing ever happened, or say that I owe her. She would always claim that because I didn’t text back that I missed out on something big or important to her and that I must be cheating on her or simply didn’t care about her. No matter how much I would say or very visibly show that I cared she would treat me as though I was still very wrong. I was never once put first in her life. I could handle not ever being first, but to be not only far from first, I was, instead, constantly put down as though I was the bane of her existence. I went very out of my comfort zone and disobeyed rules, teachers, family, etc. to “make it up to her.” This was incredibly beyond my character but she would put me in a very dark and anxious place nearly hourly. She used my extreme patience and sympathy against me by keeping me trapped in a destructive cycle. I would have to leave home when I wasn’t supposed to or miss so many important events with my own friends or family without permission to walk to her house and apologize in person, only to be shunned initially at the door.

She made me join the speech and debate team. I probably could have been good at it too... she made sure that I was part of her group, but that I wouldn’t actually participate in the group. Any part that I had was to be done away from the group with no understanding or explanation of what I was tasked with. I was isolated from everyone and everything happening. When I would have to rejoin the group the day before a debate I would be barated and torn down by her followed by the rest of the group because I did everything wrong. We went to several debates and at one of the very first ones I made a small and simple mistake in the debate against a team from another school that I didn’t know I had made because I was never taught. She got visibly mad immediately, even with the judges and opponents in the room. As soon as that debate was over, she stormed out of the room with no explanation and walked back to the waiting area without saying a word to me. As soon as I arrived (shortly after her), I immediately found her ranting to her friends and our classmates in front of everybody else about how stupid I was and how I ruined the debate for her and our whole school. She cast me in a very bad light and made it sound as though the mistake was so simple that I must be a “complete idiot” to make it. She went on about this for about an hour, even stretching the conversation to neighboring opponent schools seated nearby. And any time I would try to step into the conversation to defend my self she would angrily cast me off to a secluded table away from them and everyone for the rest of the day. She took away my phone and anything else that I had claiming that I didn’t deserve it because of my screw up (something that she did often with phones and other meaningful objects). I tried to hold hands with her and plead with her on the two hour car ride home in the back of her dads car but she would angrily refuse with the silent treatment all the way until I was dropped off. It didn’t matter how many times that I would agree with her that I was “stupid” and “worthless”, she would still treat me as though I was even lower than that.

At every school dance that I attended with her, she would immediately leave my side to go find friends. Every time I would catch up with her she would leave me again to find a different friend for no other reason than just to find them. She would do this to control me, make me feel abandoned and make sure that I was always paying attention to her and nobody else, isolating me from everyone, even in a large crowd of people that I know. And as the night would go on she would begin to tell people that I was ignoring her because I wouldn’t stay right with her (because I couldn’t keep up or I wouldn’t immediately notice that she silently left again) and I must not care about her, even though I would spend the entire time in a mad dash back and forth trying to find her, never having time to stop and talk to anyone that I knew that was trying to talk to me. She or someone would spill something on me by accident but she would just laugh and usually make it worse somehow (spilling more on me, finding people to embarrass me for being a klutz to, etc). If I accidentally spilled something on her or even near her it was a guarantee that she wouldn’t talk to me or pay attention to me for the rest of the night. I was always expected to pay for everything and drop off jackets and pick them up and carry her stuff everywhere, but never received any kind words or gestures, as was true for everything and everywhere we went for the whole four years. I was young and very naive about relationships at first, so while I thought it was strange, I just thought that I was being polite and gentlemanly and showing that I cared, but I was very much told and shown the opposite, which became far more obvious over time. It was simply expected and if I didn’t then she would use it as a reason to prove to others (and to me in our many daily arguments[consisting mostly of her yelling and saying incredibly rude things to me while I would spend a lot of time apologizing]) that I am a rude person who doesn’t show that I care.

One day, we had gone to a movie with her little sister at the movie tavern and, after the movie, we had lots of time to kill before the bus came to take us home so they decided that they wanted to go to kohl’s. We wandered around for a while and eventually ended up in the jewelry department. As usual she was trying to lose me in the store as a “game” much like she would do at dances or...well...anywhere public that we would go, really. The aisles were very small in the jewelry department and I turned a corner too quickly, very seriously trying to keep up with her to avoid the claim that I “left her because I didn’t care” and, in doing so, I accidentally stepped on the back of her heel and “flat-tired” her shoe, so-to-speak. It was minor and I almost didn’t even noticed that I had done it but she immediately yelled “ow” and screamed at me and threw something at me. It left a small red mark on her heel that she showed everyone. She claimed that I abused her and she claimed that to everyone, including her family and mine for years after that. She made me pay for everything that her and her sister had picked out at kohl’s and made me change my plan (to just go home) and instead walk them all the way back to their house (about 2.5 miles) carrying everything. They walked ahead of me about 15 feet the whole way to their house and spent the whole time making fun of me and barating me.

Her and her family tried very hard to make me change religions. They made me watch many documentaries and shows about their religion against my will and they even brought several holy figures and very religious friends to their house for special occasions just to try to convince me that their way was the only right way. They would ask me a lot of derogatory questions to make me feel stupid for not believing or participating. They would make me participate in things that I knew nothing about and didn’t want to do. I respect their religion, as I do everyone’s, and politely tried to abstain but she would get very mad, again claiming that I must not cares out her, then, and make me participate. I attended every special occasion that I could for her and her family. I even spent an entire Christmas Day away from my family and the traditions/plans that we had made so that she could make me watch her and her family open their gifts and partake in their traditions. This would have been okay if I had been seen as welcome, but instead, since I wasn’t part of their religion, I was intentionally isolated the entire day, especially by her. And the gifts that I had bought for her she wasn’t very fond of, so she would trash talk about them and how I could have done better and how I must not care about her at all because the gifts proved that I “didn’t know her at all” even though she would keep them and wear them (jewelry) or display them (souvenirs, stuffed animals, etc). She would pry at my insecurities to make them worse and make me feel like her life was miserable because of me.

Marching band meant the world to me, as did flying and filmmaking. She hated all of these things about me because they were things that she didn’t participate in, didn’t enjoy and were things that would take my attention away from her for a bit. She would constantly say things like “well why don’t you just quit school and break up with me to go be in the marching band, then.” That’s a very light attack compared to many that she had said to me on a daily basis and she meant them in a very serious and derogatory way to make me feel bad for participating in the things that I love. She only attended one marching band event throughout the entirety of high school but she wasn’t actually there to cheer me on. She managed to pull that facade off for my family and friends while she was there, but she slowly started isolating me from the band and all other people as the night went on so that she could keep control of me and my life. At any other time (all other performances and rehearsals throughout high school [including band concerts]) she would get mad immediately if I brought them up in conversation and when I was actively at them because she saw them as optional things that I was participating in because “I cared about them more than her”. She never attended any other event because, even though I would invite her and her family well in advance, I would remind her the week of or week before and she would claim that I never invited her and that it was way too late, she had something else to do during those times or simply wouldn’t attend out of spite. She would make me believe that I hadn’t invited her sooner and that I was crazy and stupid for thinking that I did. She argued with me on a daily basis about how I cared about band and filmmaking more than her even though I began giving up those parts of my life for her and I would break the rules and secretly pull my phone out all of the time to message her to keep “checking in” and keep her relatively calm while in class, at rehearsal, during concerts, etc...though she was always mad anyway. I attended every choir concert and IB event; church and family event that she had and cheered her on whole heartedly...hoping that she would be happy that I was there. Instead I would get ignored, not introduced to people I didn’t know, and constantly made fun of whenever possible...

Her strangle hold on my life may sound like something I could just walk away from at any time, but it was far more complicated than it seemed. Her and her family found ways to subliminally, and very forwardly, threaten me into staying in the relationship on a daily basis, again using my patience, sympathy and insecurities against me and degrading me like I was too naive and stupid too understand how to be in a proper relationship so they needed to teach me. I was, in fact, very naive because I believed them (specifically her) and believed that giving in to their lives, lies and treatment was for the better.

I hated myself and believed that I was a truly bad person in every way. I believed that I owed her and her family the world and my life. When I would tell her that I was in distress, she would just tell me that I should “go kill myself, then.” I subconsciously knew that a lot was wrong but I saw no way out but to try even harder every day, actually making my mental state/scar significantly worse every day...nearly leading me to a very different way out...

She always tried to make me plan dates that I couldn’t afford or wasn’t capable of doing at that age because I always “owed her one” for everything that I do wrong. I planned three dates in a row one time and she didn’t like a single one of them. Quite in the contrary. She told me flat out that she hated them and hated my ideas because they were childish, stupid and she didn’t like participating in the types of things that I had planned. These included a picnic, a nice dinner and movie with frozen yogurt at her favorite place, and an active date to jumpoline. She made me feel like I didn’t care; like a failure; like I didn’t know her at all; like I was stupid. She, of course, told everyone that we knew or met for weeks about how horrible I was at planning.

We had several classes together throughout high school, mainly French. She always made sure that I was aware that she knew French better than me and that my experience didn’t matter. If I tried to correct her when she said or wrote something incorrectly, she would get very angry; tell me, very seriously, to “shut up” and usually ignore me for a while. She would always try to be in a group with me in activities in that class but, just like speech and debate, she would isolate me from the group right away and insult me every time that I got something wrong. This morale destruction happened so frequently, slyly and subliminally that I believed that I was bad at everything and so I began shutting down in every class and activity that I took in high school, participating in activities less and less. I stopped doing homework for fear that I was always wrong and had no understanding, which was constantly reinforced by my poor testing and grades. At the time I truly believed that I was just stupid and couldn’t understand anything in school, not knowing that it was all in my head and I just wasn’t ever fully engaged ever again. I felt very left behind in school. Something that has always pained me very much...

This, of course, all came to a head on homecoming night of senior year. The night started at her house for photos where the attention was, no doubt, completely on her and how she looked. I wore one of my dads nice shirts, and, though it wasn’t the nicest shirt, it was what I had and what we could afford. For years, she had been buying dresses and sending me samples of the colors to force me to match her. She would refuse to help me pick anything out and I couldn’t afford to keep getting new outfits to match every special occasion. This time I had chosen my dads shirt because, even though it wasn’t a perfect match for color, it was a complimentary color. It was a nice shirt but it wasn’t the perfect shirt, which was made clear to me right away. She was immediately mad as soon as she saw me. She was quick to insult my outfit and so was her family. They felt that I looked like trash, that I have no class or style and that I didn’t care about her especially on special occasions. I was constantly reminded about that every time we encountered another person throughout the night, as she insisted to everyone that I didn’t care, which was obvious because I “didn’t try at all to match her and my shirt was awful”... This put me in a bad place from the get go.

We went to my dads house for a nice home cooked meal that I picked out and she, of course, hated. She didn’t eat much of it and very blatantly didn’t finish or clean up or have any gratitude for.

After dinner, my dad had offered to take us to the school for the dance. She didn’t like this idea because she hated my family very blatantly and picked out a few key things that my dad had said in the car on the way to the dance to immediately throw in my face as soon as we got out. My dad can definitely be abrasive, but that night he had actually been incredibly pleasant and kind to her all the way until we dropped her back off at home that night, so there was extremely little for her to be angry about, but she latched onto something and threw it in my face in front of everybody standing in line to get into the dance. She stormed off without me with her ticket to find one of her friends in line. I couldn’t find her so I had to enter the dance alone. As soon as I found her inside, she threw it in my face that I left her alone... the dark place grew so much stronger. She dragged me to do photos with one set of friends, then immediately abandoned me on the dark dance floor to go find different friends for no reason other than to make me chase her. I looked for her for almost a half an hour, but couldn’t find her, so I found some friends at a table in the cafeteria to sit with and calm down. Not even five minutes after that, she shows up and yells at me in front of the friends about not caring, abandoning her, how terrible I look and how I am an all around terrible boyfriend and person. She then found a way to quickly convince our friends to scramble away with her again to go find other friends, leaving me alone at the table...

I didn’t get up and chase her that time...

I sat and stared at my phone for the rest of the night as though I was doing something important as best as I could to cover up the fact that I was in an extremely dire mental state. I was just staring at a blank phone in all actuality. But the plan worked. Nobody talked to me or noticed me for the rest of the night. When she finally came back a long while later, alone, she only came to request that I call my dad to come get us and take us home. I did so, then made one final plea for help to her without being too obvious about my distress so that I wouldn’t leave myself open for an attack for being “stupid” or “weak” about my emotions, but she ignored me, as usual, and sat in silence. We left in silence and dropped her off in silence.

That night, I got home and immediately got into PJs...barely...said goodnight to my dad and step mother, thanking them for all that they did that night and went to bed. I lay my head down and wanted nothing more than for the mental torture of myself (believing that I was a horrible person and I ruined her life and her important night again) to stop and stop for good, so I buried my face in the pillow and pinched my nose as hard as I could, thinking that I could smother myself and it would at least look like somewhat of an accident. Only moments later I passed out...

Fortunately, I had rolled away from the pillow and had managed to breathe again. I didn’t wake up until the next morning, however. I woke up very dazed and confused. I wasn’t sure that what I had done the night before was actually real but it very slowly sank in as I lay in bed for hours, slowly thinking. I was lucky to be alive and, though that was a very stupid and ineffective way of thinking of killing myself, I realized that my thoughts were so clouded that night that I didn’t have time to contemplate a better way. I knew that if this continued that I eventually would, which actually scared me literally almost to death because it’s not who I am. I didn’t understand then why I had decided that I had decided that this was the best course of action that I could possibly take. I thought that I was just generally depressed and that I was overall terrible at life. I didn’t understand what was actually happening at all but I knew that something had to change. I immediately began planning a long, difficult, but desperate plan to leave her. Subconsciously I knew that it was the right thing to do, but I never full understood why I knew it would make things better...maybe that makes me very naive...but that’s just the truth...

When I finally did leave her, it was a very messy situation, but I felt very liberated. I was very foolish and rash in everything I did for a while because I was so mentally damaged from such a long period of abuse. I had no idea that was what was going on, though. I felt better, but not right. I thought that I would feel like I was always supposed to. Like I would be healthy and smarter again. However, I actually felt very hollow and damaged. I didn’t know why and I definitely didn’t realize that the scar was so deeply created... It never went away...and perhaps got much worse over time, in fact, as it’s had time to brew subconsciously without me knowing.

These are only very few of the incidents and daily torments that I was put through. I didn’t realize how much pain it had actually put me in or how much pain it would continue to cause me for years. I never really knew why I wanted to kill myself over something so seemingly small. I guess, in a way, I knew subconsciously all along, but never wanted to pick at the details because it hurt too much as it was...

One of the things that has picked at me the most in recent years is how my mom views me. She believes that my high school struggles and my messiness and my lack of motivation are all learned behaviors from her because of the way she behaved and that my step father had put us both down to, which she believed was her fault for keeping him around. I always knew that this wasn’t true, it wasn’t her fault. The situation with my step father definitely didn’t help, however, I couldn’t help but feel that it wasn’t her fault or even his fault. I never could tell her that I disagreed, though, because I didn’t have an answer for why I am who I am and I have behaved the way that I have or why my high school years went so poorly. But, in these last couple of months I have realized that I actually had all of the negative behaviors and thoughts that I have described before she did and that it isn’t learned from one another at all. I realized that my years of brutal abuse started before hers and she has been going through it too now with my step father, and we just both react to our abuse in a similar way. I feel really guilty for not realizing this sooner and helping her understand and feel better about who I am and how I have turned out; that it’s definitely not her fault. She has taken so much out on herself about my life and it makes me very depressed. But I don’t know how to confront her about this now, because I don’t think that she will believe me or understand; at least not for many years after her relationship with my step father is over.

I am very broken and depressed and angry with myself and upset and...so many other feelings from this shock of realization of my abuse that I can’t help but feel the same put-down feeling that I had while it was happening. It’s like living in a nightmare, but it’s already happened before and it’s just as scary this time around. I am finding that I’m very sensitive to certain words, phrases, actions, etc. that I never know are coming, but they trigger little moments of panic or depression out of nowhere that I try very hard to hide. I never expect them and I know that none of them are intentional or with the same destructive motive at all, so I just usually have to mentally talk my way down, which typically doesn’t take very long if I have something to distract me, thankfully. But hiding it can be tough and I am sorry for all of the times that it does show (which is hopefully never) because it isn’t a baggage that I want anyone to ever see in person or have to put up with. These little triggers have been around for many years now, but I never really understood why. Sometimes they trigger little unpleasant memories, make my heart race, give me a little panic attack, make me suddenly defensive, etc. I like to think that I am pretty good at hiding the moment and just keeping them internal these days, because they are generally small enough moments and easy to hide, but the long term effect of each trigger is usually a depression that may last hours. I’ve been blowing these off as nothing more than unpleasantries that nobody needed to know about. I guess, for years, I just assumed that everybody has similar feelings and moments, which many probably do. It never really occurred to me, though, that having them daily...and multiple times daily...wasn’t a normal thing. I found out in my research that these are actually symptoms of a specific post traumatic illness that is very similar to PTSD and generally called, classified and treated the same way...

This is not who I am, but I know that this is part of my life now and forever and I have to find a way to push on...especially as other parts of life get a bit rough...

I have so many good parts of my life right now that I know I will never get back to my darkest state. With all of the little stresses piling up recently, it can be easy to give in to the depression that has always been there and likely always will be and it isn’t an opportune time to have had this realization...but then again...when would be... I just keep telling myself that I am very fortunate for the here-and-now and that everything is ok and will always be ok. I know it’s true and I just have to let that feeling fight it’s way through the rough...

All of this is a realization and also a confession that I hide a lot of things. I hide that I suffer from constant small headaches from muscle tension and grinding my teeth from stress, the constant aches and pains in my muscles from stress; I hide my constant anxiety and the real depth of my insomnia; I hide my nearly constant dark feeling; I hide my trigger moments; I hide my many health problems that concern me; I hide my very low self esteem. I don’t like hiding these things at all, but I am extremely embarrassed and nervous to ever let them show or discuss them. That’s why I usually shy away from the topics when they are brought up and start reverting to short answers with a dull look on my face... When asked if I’m ok, the answer will always be “yes”, but the reality is almost always “not really” and I actually hate that very much but I’m too afraid to say so because I’m embarrassed, so I hide it. I know that everything is and will be ok anyways, but it’s still very tough...

One of my least favorite parts of this is that every time I have a very good, happy, laughing, excited or enjoyable moment, it is almost always followed by an immediate, deep crash into negative emotions and depression that I have to try extremely hard to hide for the betterment of those around me (so that I don’t ruin the good moments) and out of embarrassment. Sometimes, I will try so hard to hide it and I will become too seemingly positive or excited about stuff that I may go overboard with it and almost seem like I’m awkwardly trying to cover up something which brings out my biggest fear that I will be caught in my insecurity. I try really hard to come across very positive for those around me all of the time, or as often as possible. I always have as I like helping others. I like helping others see a different perspective; I like making others feel like their life matters, I like being seen as a positive, uplifting person when people need it most. I don’t mind being the mediator in tense situations if I know that I can bring the conversation or mood back to a calm and happy one. The horrible truth is that, usually, when I am being positive for others I am actually in one of my mentally darkest moments. I am hiding my pain with my positivity. I don’t like having to hide things this way, but my desire to be positive for others is real at the same time. It’s very complicated to understand this mix of feelings as I don’t understand it myself. I feel that my positivity leads people as far away from my dark insecurity as possible and theirs at the same time. It makes me feel safe from giving into negativity for the world to see and keeps me from being the center of attention in a very negative and embarrassing way. It sounds very selfish when I put it all out this way, but I do actually want those around me to be in a good place and I’m glad that I can help them.

Letting out all of these thoughts is maybe what I need but to also relive what happened to me when I thought that I had blocked most of it out makes it hurt all over again, almost as much as it did in the moment. However, I know that I already learned a lot from that period of my life and I’m still learning a lot, I guess, but it is still hard to get passed it anyway. I know that good things are always coming and this deep pain will hopefully pass. I do fear that I won’t be able to hide what is happening to me forever and showing it is the last thing that I want. I don’t ever want this to interfere with anything good in my life or any time that I get with the people that I love and care about in my life. I truly hate that she still has a strangle hold on every aspect of my life because of the way that she damaged my mind and I hate that it is so difficult to break out of the habits, emotions and behaviors that have such current and long-lasting negative impacts.

I don’t want to feel the deep negative emotions from my trauma all over again, but they are here to stay for a while, and I know that they won’t ever quite go away, but it will lessen with more time...I hope. And this rough patch will be short lived because of all of the real love I receive from everyone around me... and for that I am always grateful...

If you are reading this, then I have decided that sharing this was important to our relationship. I am by no means looking for attention or sympathy. In fact, quite the opposite. I have been very undecided about sharing this at all because l am very embarrassed by it and it makes me feel weak and I have had a deep and unfounded fear that I won’t be understood...it has nothing to do with wanting to keep secrets or worrying specifically about how anyone will take it because I know that, in reality, everyone will be accepting and caring. Those that I am closest to truly love me very much and I know that. I don’t want you to think that it has anything to do with you or our relationship (whatever that may be) that I didn’t share this sooner or haven’t been open with you. I care about you and our relationship and my relationship with everyone close more than anything else in my life, which is why I know I need to share this. It’s just really hard to put all of your insecurities out in the open to anyone...I hope that you understand that... As I’ve been writing this for about two months now (mostly written in two nights with constant editing and adding since) and reading over and over, I’ve been so dazed on it all. Maybe I’m just being very over dramatic about the whole thing, but the emotions from this are very real and very strong. I sit in my car at lunch eating alone, trying to figure out how to be okay with myself so that I can keep going. I’ve spent a lot of my sleepless time working on this, making sure that I say everything that I want to and mentally building up the courage to share it and trying to decide the right time to let this be read... I don’t think that I’m ready to talk about this in person yet, but thank you for taking the time to read it and soak it in with me...it means enough right now...

#abuse #emotions #story #memories #memory #hurt #pain #writing #aesthetic #my story #emotional abuse #psychological abuse #narcissistic abuse #thoughts #long reads #reading

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mst3kproject · 4 years

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Sorority Girl

It can be hard to find this specific movie, since several others have been made with the same title, even as recently as the nineties. Us MSTies, however, demand the original – the one with Susan Cabot and June Kenney from The Viking Women and the Sea Serpent and Dick Miller from Gunslinger and It Conquered the World. It was produced and directed by the reliably awful Roger Corman, and Ms. Cabot has apparently said in interviews that they didn’t really have a script, just a list of stuff that was supposed to happen. Sorority Girl is a step up from Curse of Bigfoot, but that’s praise so faint that you’d need the Hubble Space Telescope to pick it out.

College student Sabra is a colossal bitch and nobody likes her. Unsurprisingly, the only person who doesn’t understand the correlation between these two facts is Sabra herself. Determined that others should suffer the way she has, she plays her sorority sisters against each other until her mind games drive one of them to attempt suicide. Then I think she drowns herself. The end.

On a technical level, Sorority Girl looks and sounds very nice – the photography is crisp and the blocking and direction, while nothing spectacular, tell us what we need to know. You can tell who’s who and remember everybody’s names, and the costume designer did a good job of suggesting everybody’s personalities and goals through their clothing. The soundtrack puts both music and silence to pretty good use. The only glaring flaw in the film itself is a scene in which the sound of rolling waves almost drowns out the dialogue, but that might just be my sound system.

It’s sufficiently well put-together that it makes me kind of angry, because all that relative competence is in the service of this nasty, depressing movie that hates everybody and everything. Watching it makes you feel like you need a shower. The movie is here to show us women being horrible and spanking each other (no, really), but it’s not even over-the-top enough to be any fun.

I don’t understand who we’re supposed to root for in this movie. It can’t be Sabra herself, because she’s thoroughly horrible and there’s not even any reason for her to be doing what she does. It’s not like the others have wronged her in any way – if they had, perhaps we could take some nasty joy in her revenge but we can’t. If the rest of the girls had any sort of spine we could root for them, but they’re nonentities. Future student president Rita stands up tall in front of voters but is a pushover in a crunch. Shy Ellie is nothing but Sabra’s punching bag and we feel sorry for her but she’s too pathetic to actually like. Troubled Tina is pregnant and we feel for her predicament but she, too, is more an object of pity than a heroine. Sabra’s mother seems to love her but doesn’t understand what she needs.

Sabra’s motivations remain a mystery even to herself. She makes various excuses for them throughout the movie – she claims she wants revenge on Rita’s boyfriend Mort for snubbing her. She gets Tina to join her in her blackmail scheme because she says they both need money. At the end she yells at everybody, saying she was driven to this because they wouldn’t let her into their clique. No sort of excuse is ever given for her appalling cruelty to Ellie, who really does seem to look up to her. In Sabra’s own words, she just feels driven to hurt people and doesn’t know why.

All her schemes fail anyway. She doesn’t manage to take Mort away from Rita. She doesn’t manage to get the money she tries to blackmail him for. She doesn’t even succeed in staying out of trouble for the shit she’s already pulled, since at the end everybody gets together, agrees she’s terrible, and turns her in. We’re left feeling like this whole story went by and nothing was ever accomplished. The other characters’ stories don’t come to any conclusion either. We don’t find out if Rita won the election or if she and Mort will get married. We don’t find out what’s going to happen to Tina other than that her parents are coming to pick her up. We don’t find out if Ellie got a life. Everything is just left dangling.

It is never explicit how old any of these characters are supposed to be, but both Sabra and Tina are said to be financially dependent on their parents, and the movie seems to be going for some sort of statement about young people getting into trouble when unsupervised, so I’m going to assume they’re undergraduates. All the actors are, of course, about thirty. Some of them, like June Kenney as Tina, look younger. Some, like Barbara Cowan as Ellie, are trying to look younger and failing. Others, like Dick Miller as Mort, look older. The biggest casting mistake was forty-year-old Fay Baker as Sabra’s mother. She’s just barely old enough to have a college-aged child, but Susan Cabot is in no way young enough to be that child. I could buy Baker as Cabot’s stepmother, but when she’s supposed to be her actual mother I just keep thinking of Space Mutiny.

Perhaps it’s not fair to complain about Mort’s age, since he manages the campus pub and may not be a student. If that’s the case, though, it does make one wonder about his relationship with undergraduate Rita… and the string of prior student girlfriends he’s mentioned… so let’s just not go there.

We get hints that Sabra may be mentally ill. She seems to be upset by her own inability to stop doing terrible things, and at one point reaches out to her mother for help. Her mother assumes she just wants money, and brushes her off. Perhaps we’re meant to think Sabra feels ignored and powerless, and therefore seeks power in whatever form she can get it. We’re probably supposed to feel sorry for her but other than the one visit to her mother she never seems to make any real attempt to better herself. She gives up, goes back to school, and resumes trying to ruin everybody’s life. It’s really quite appropriate that the movie is bookended by Sabra sitting on the beach whining about how she wishes she could start over, because it ends exactly where it began. Sabra is still a colossal bitch and nobody likes her.

If this movie were going to have any sort of punch, I really think it needed to be just a tiny bit longer. Rather than watching Sabra just sit and cry on the seashore, we needed to see her face the consequences of her actions, whether that was arrest, expulsion, disownment, or some combination of the above. Her implied suicide is just a means whereby both she and the writers can avoid any thought of consequences, and is inherently unsatisfying.

Watching the movie for the first time, I really expected Tina to jump and for the truth to come out only after she was dead. Realizing she had somebody’s blood on her hands might have been enough to shock Sabra out of her self-absorbed haze and actually try to be a better person, only to find it was far too late. That this does not happen is in some ways a relief, but it also kind of feels like the movie chickened out. Tina dying would certainly not have made Sorority Girl into a good movie, but it would have been a far more impactful one.

On the other hand, Tina not dying includes the single detail in this entire movie that I actually liked. Throughout the movie, Tina has been sitting on her terrible secret and wondering what to do about it. She never tells a soul – Sabra only finds out because Ellie, Tina’s room-mate, heard her talking in her sleep – out of fear that she’ll be branded a slut and treated as an outcast. Such was the 50’s. Certainly the thought of telling her parents never even seems to occur to her.

But the movie never treats the situation as Tina’s fault. Her pregnancy is not a punishment as Paula’s was in The Violent Years, it’s just a problem that exists and one Tina isn’t coping with very well. Other than Sabra, everybody who finds out about it takes steps to help. Ellie immediately tells Sabra because she believes that Sabra will know what to do – and when Sabra orders her to keep the secret for Tina’s sake, Ellie does so even when interrogated by the house mother. Sabra, being the colossal bitch she is, then blackmails Tina into blackmailing Mort, threatening to tell everybody he’s the father unless he gives her money. Mort refuses to be blackmailed but he doesn’t judge Tina for being pregnant. Instead, once she’s gone he gets in touch with her parents for her… and they don’t judge her either, but immediately come to her aid. So good on the writers, if there were any, for that!

This solidarity also makes the point that all the girls in this sorority really are there for each other and it’s literally just Sabra who is the reason they can’t have nice things. I still don’t know if we’re really supposed to feel sorry for Sabra but this particular detail makes it even harder.

Of all the movies that were ever on MST3K, the one Sorority Girl most reminds me of is The Sidehackers. They don’t have anything in common plot-wise, but both have endings in which nobody wins and it seems like there was no point besides to make the audience feel crummy and lose all faith in the human race. I don’t know what was going on in the year 1957, but here in 2020 we do not need help with that shit. I’m gonna go watch Pixar movies for the rest of the week.

#mst3k #reviews #sorority girl #episodes that never were #tw: suicide #fuck this movie #50s

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dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years

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“So that’s how you want to play this, love?" | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey My Lovelies! I hope all is well today! I received a request ages ago from @activist-af to do something like this, as you will read below. I honestly aimed to fit the movie night theme in there but it was swallowed up pretty fast! I only meant for this fic to be 3000 or so words but, as it always seems to do, it got away from me.I truly hope that you enjoy this, you've given me an unwavering amount of support these past few months while I was battling a major bout of depression and writers block. I can't repay all the kindness and love you've given me but I hope this is a start! Much love darling! And much love to all of you lovelies! Please have a fantastic evening for me! <3

Please read before continuing: I usually wouldn't write this much before my story but I wanted to add this: this story is my first full blown smut. I'm honestly not sure how well it will go over but I tried to make it as loving and healing as I could. I take my writing very seriously. I know sex for many is a touchy subject, and that truly pains me. I sincerely hope every single one of you reading this feels all the love and saftey I tried to incorporate into this peace. I wish you an eternity of love and healing. Be safe my loves!

Request: "Could u do a mikaelson boys x reader? Any plot really, but I’d very much love it if it was a bit more Kol focused. there’s just such a lack of content for all three of them and I love your writing so much. If u need any plot point ideas maybe a movie night kinda thing? I really hold him a bit higher than the other boys. Or something similar to the fic with the Klaus + Eli being injured? Fluffy ending please, smut is fantastic too 🖤"

Description: Y/n is upset that the boys won't let her come on their mission with them, feeling isolated and useless. Kol is supposed to stay behind and watch out for her however things get heated after she tells him off.

Pairing: The Mikaelson Boys x Fem!Reader, mainly Kol and Elijah

Warnings: THIS IS AN 18+ ONLY FIC!!! This is a full blown smut, I honestly do not know how it happened, probably 4000/5000 words are pure sex scenes, also there's a bit of fighting/angst at the beginning of the first scene but it doesn't last

Word count: 5343 (I'm so sorry)

Tags: ANGST, SMUT (full on), FLUFF

(Pics aren't mine but the moodboard is :) )

“I really don’t see why you guys are leaving me behind, again,” you run an agitated hand through your hair, huffing indignantly at the two boys in front of you.

Yes, boys. Not men. If they aren't going to treat you like the full grown woman you are then no way in hell are you going to give them any validation either. Even in your head.

“It’s too dangerous,” Elijah’s chocolate eyes are stern, his hands clenching at his sides, “I can’t risk the witches doing anything to you as a way to get to us. You’re too important.”

Your chest warms slightly at his words but it isn’t enough to break down your resolve. Three hundred years under your belt; they’re going to need to do better than that if they want to keep you away. There are only so many times you can stay away from a fight, only so many times you can watch them come home hurt knowing that if you had gone with them then maybe you could have prevented it. You’re a family and you’re tired of feeling like you aren’t pulling your weight.

You narrow your eyes at the tall boy, still not man, trying to peer through all the red you’re seeing, “I’m not a child, Elijah.”

He stares right back, not backing down, his face cut like marble, unwavering. Beautiful but harsh. Stone. He wears a white shirt, the first button popped and the sleeves rolled to his forearms. His veins are prominent and tempting. Elijah means business. You swallow the lump in your throat, pushing away the heat growing in your stomach.

“Love, trust me, we know you aren't a child. Any other time I would gladly rip you upstairs and prove it. Right now, though, I agree with him. You’re staying here,” Klaus’ softer voice pulls your attention from your staring match with the eldest Mikaelson.

He has a leather jacket on, the material clinging tight to his arms, ready to burst. He’s smiling but it doesn’t reach his crystal eyes. He folds his arms neatly in front of him. He’s not going to budge either.

You scoff at him, shaking your head, “I want to come, Klaus. I need to.”

A new voice joins the three of you in the foyer, “I can make that happen, darling, but you’ve got to stay home with me if you want that.”

You don't even need to turn around to hear the smirk on Kol’s voice but you do anyway, meeting the youngest Mikaelson face to face. He has a grin on his lips, one that, in any other situation, would have you weak in the knees. He has a sweatshirt on and a pair of sleep shorts. He’s on babysitting duty, he doesn’t need anything else. You only roll your eyes at him before facing Elijah once more.

“I’m part of this family, too, you know. It should be my choice,” you have to will your voice not to crack, keeping your tone as low and as steady as you can, “I’m not useless, Elijah, as much as you’d obviously disagree.”

You rub your hands over your bare arms, fending off a sudden chill. You feel like there’s ice coursing through your veins. A traitorous tear tracks down your cheek but you make no move to get it. Elijah’s hardened face softens when he notices.

“Baby, come on,” he reaches to grab you but you step back, not allowing him to touch you.

He can’t do that, make the decisions for you. Maybe if you were still human it would be called for but now it’s not. Sure, you aren't a millennium like they are but you’re not a piece of glass either. You’re strong, whether they want to acknowledge it or not.

“Don’t, Elijah,” you back away further, your cheeks drenched but your eyes fierce, “I’ll see you guys in a few days. Be safe.”

You turn and walk away, ignoring all three brothers as they call out to you, heading up to your room before any of them decide to follow you. You close the door, not slamming it but not exactly shutting it gently either. You can hear Elijah sigh from the front hall and you know he’s tugging on his hair. Klaus swears, his frustrated voice floating up to your ears. More tears fall but you brush them away angrily, lifting a pillow from your bed and screaming into it. No doubt they can hear it but, right now, you couldn't care less. The front door shuts and your heart plummets.

You sit on the edge of your bed, gripping your dark comforter tightly. Usually you like being the one they take care of. You like being held, how small they make you feel. Right now, though, it’s too much.

A soft knock draws your attention to the door, Kol’s careful voice cutting through the wood, “darling?”

“Leave me alone, Kol,” you try your best to make your words harsh but you only sound tired.

“Not likely, love,” he presses, “you know I can go all night, now it’s up to you what that means.”

Your cheeks flush and, as if he can see you through the door, he chuckles. The sound echos through your chest, stirring the remains of anger and frustration and mixing them with something hot and untamed. You pull the door open, coming face to face with the smirking Mikaelson.

“Sorry you landed with babysitting duty, Kol, but I’ve kept myself alive for three hundred years now and I’m pretty sure I can handle two more days on my own. Why don’t you go help Elijah and Klaus, yeah? Seeing as you are the only three who can actually do any good. I’m clearly not strong enough to do anything so I’ll just sit here and look pretty and do absolutely nothing at all because I’m useless. Okay?”

With that you close the door in his face. Well, you try to but he wedges his body in the way so you can’t shut him out. Whatever smile had previously been on his face is long gone and in its place sits a deep frown. His brown eyes ice over slightly and he stands taller than he did mere seconds ago. You can feel a switch in the atmosphere and suddenly you’re face to face. You honestly can’t tell which one of you is more pissed off.

“So that’s how you want to play this, love,” he pushes closer to you, “you want to get angry, yeah? Alright darling, I can do that.”

You open your mouth to protest but before any profanities can fly out his lips are on yours, fierce and strong. He uses his foot to kick the door closed, slamming it into place. It’s done merely for effect. No one is home but the two of you. He spins you around aggressively, pushing you roughly against the hardwood. His teeth sink into your bottom lip, no doubt drawing blood. As if on cue a copper taste fills your mouth, drowning your senses in red. This time, though, the anger is mixed with a wicked kind of lust.

Your hands find his hair without your permission, tugging harshly at the roots. He groans into your mouth, a sound that makes you want to slap him across the face and wrap your legs around him all the same. His hand snakes around your waist, squeezing your hip with a fervour that will no doubt leave bruises that will take longer than usual to heal. He pushes against you, every single part of him rock hard.

“God fucking damnit, Kol,” his lips find your throat with painful ease, sucking the sensitive skin into his mouth in a way thats just this side of painful over pleasurable.

Right now, though, you crave every bit of pain that Kol lays on you. In a sick way you’re proving that you can take it. That you’re strong enough to do the things that they do. Another flash of red floods your vision when you think of the other two Mikaelson's who refused to let you help. You drag one of your hands down Kol’s back, scratching hard enough for him hiss against your neck.

He jerks away from you quickly, only long enough to rip the sweatshirt over his head before he attacks your neck again. He sinks his teeth in at the same moment he rips your tank top in half, lulling you into that sweet mixture of pleasure and pain, hate and lust once more. His shoulders are deliciously toned under your searching fingers and this time when you drag your nails down his back you know you draw blood. Serves him right anyway.

“Fuck, baby,” he wraps a hand around both of your wrists, pinning your hands above your head, “that kinda hurt.”

You want to claw the smirk off of his face. Or kiss it. You can’t quite decide. His other hand is slowly sliding up your back, inching towards the clasp of your bra. His eyes burn into yours, the inferno behind them nothing less than intense. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears so loud it’s almost hypnotic when combined with the tantalizing draw of his hand. It lulls you into a false sense of security, your eyelids heavy in anticipation. He stops moving when his fingers are about to undo the hooks.

He pushes his hips closer to yours, locking you between his body and the door. His stomach is hot against yours and cut like marble. Your fingers itch to feel every bump and dip with agonizing intricacy. Every inch of your skin is alight, every hair raised waiting for anything to happen. You can feel every breath he takes as if it’s your own, your covered breasts just barely grazing him with each rise and fall of his chest. It’s delicious torture.

“Before we go any further here, I need to know what you want. Do you want some quick fuck that’s going to leave you more angry when it’s done?” He rolls his hips against yours, sending sparks flying through your body at the first real touch you’ve had tonight, “or do you want me to make love to you like you know I can. And make all these terrible feelings go away. It’s your choice, darling?”

His words tangle and knot in the pit of your stomach, weaving through the white hot hatred that had been building in your stomach until it explodes. They hit you right at the source like missiles aimed with the utmost precision to destroy every bit of anger left in you. Tears prickle at the edge of your vision, your senses overloaded from the sudden loss of your fury. All that’s left in its wake is this gut wrenching feeling of not being good enough. It’s the original problem and he just effortlessly broke through to it.

“I,” you tug your bruised lip between your teeth, if only to keep it still, “make it go away, Kol. Please.”

“That’s all I want to do, darling.”

He releases your wrists, opting instead to haul your body into his arms and slamming his lips against yours once more. You waste no time running your freed fingers down his sculpted chest, admiring the way his muscles tense as he holds you up. You push yourself as close to his body as you can get, wrapping your legs around his taught stomach and clinging on for dear life. He kisses you slowly, as if drawing all the negative energy out of your body with his lips.

He walks the two of you backwards towards your bed, sitting on the edge, leaving you straddling his hips in the most delicious way. You push your hips to bring you closer together, wanting to feel every part of him that you can. He meets every movement with his own energy, wrapping an arm around you back to keep you pressed against him. Your body is warming up once more in his arms.

He pulls his lips from yours reluctantly, his hand snaking back to the clasp on your back, “this needs to go.”

You shiver at the light touch of his fingertips on your spine, arching with the click of the hooks coming undone. He pulls the lace from your chest slowly, his thumbs grazing down your arms, memorizing every inch of skin he can get his hands on. His eyes meet yours again and he drops the fabric on the ground next to your bed. His hands, now resting on your hips, trail fire up your stomach as they trace their way over your ribs.

“Kol, please,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders, reveling in the warmth of his chest so close to your own, “I need you.”

There’s a glint in his eye again but this time you don’t want to slap him. No this time you want him to do heavenly things to every part of you. You want him to take the last remains of this awful feeling and snuff it out with his mouth. His hands finally crest the remainder of your ribcage, his thumbs teasing the underside of your breasts with tantalizingly careful circles. Tears sting your vision again from all the pent up energy inside of you.

“What shall I do, darling,” his thumbs draw along the sides of your breasts, stoking the untameable fire in the pit of your stomach once more, “tell me how you want me to touch you.”

His fingers dance closer to their target, each stroke driving your brain further into it’s Kol induced frenzy. All you can see, all you can hear, all you can smell is the boy in front of you.

“Kol,” his name falls from your lips in a desperate moan, “please just do something, god.”

He chuckles, a sound that flows like honey and wraps around every inch of you like silk. His eyes sear into your own, daring you to break his stare but you don’t. You can’t

“Well I could do this.”

His thumbs roll over your hardened nipples, as if to punctuate his words, and you see stars. You don’t even try to stop the moans that tumble from your lips, turning to clay in his hands. You give him free reign to mould your body in any way he desires, as long as hands never leave your skin. He pinches each bud between his fingers gently, pulling more praises from deep within you. His eyes never leave your face, drinking in each expression with unashamed greed.

“Or maybe I could do this.”

You know what’s coming when he leans forward, It’s quite clear what his intentions are. However, what you aren’t expecting is for the first gentle nip to send you so violently crashing over the edge that you have to squeeze your thighs around him to avoid falling off the bed. He doesn’t stop when you cry out and you don't want him to. Every swirl of his tongue around your nipple sends you spiraling further into the sweet oblivion he’s created just for you. He rocks his hips against yours while his mouth assaults you, pressing the delicious hardness against you while you fall apart.

He detaches his lips from your lips when you start to come down from your high, kissing his way up your sternum, over your collar bone, before settling on your throat.

“So beautiful darling,” he pulls your skin into his mouth as if he didn't just get enough just moments ago, “so damn beautiful.”

You press down on his hard length again, pulling a groan from deep within his chest, “I want all of you, Kol. Please.”

That's all the encouragement he needs to flip the two of you over and lay you on your back. He kneels between your legs, hooking his thumbs in your plaid sleep shorts and pulling them off much faster than he had down with your bra. He’s more than warmed up now, something that excites you to no end. You’re left laying in a pair of black lace panties that match the bra on your floor.

Kol’s eyes go dark at the sight, a growl that hardens your nipples again rumbling through the air. He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh before pulling the lace off of you once more and adding it to the growing pile of clothes. He kisses the junction of your thigh next, sending electricity rippling through your body. It restarts the heat once more and the familiar wildfire rips through your abdomen. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to stand many more orgasms if each one is to be like the first.

“Please just make love to me, Kol, I need to feel you.”

He lifts his head from your thighs, a sight that you will never grow tired of, and his eyes set ablaze, “I was made for nothing more.”

Your heart flutters rapidly in your chest, a warmth spreading like butter over your bones. He kicks his own shorts and boxers off quickly, moving back up your body to rest between your legs. You drink in the heat radiating off his body, allowing it to soothe the remaining ache leftover from your small throw down. His one hand slips under your head, lacing through your hair gently. The other reaches between you, lining himself up against your opening. The slightest touch of him against you is enough to have you mewling his name already.

He teases you slightly, taking his sweet time before pushing in. The first thrust is pure magic, filling you in the way that only Kol can. Each of you boys feel different. Kol lights every one of your nerves on fire with his slow movements. He makes you feel every deliberate movement. He makes you know that every circle of his hips, every time he joins you together is done to perfection exactly how he intends. Kol makes you aware of your entire body and just how much control he has over it.

He pulls back slowly before thrusting back inside of you hard enough to rock your bed into the wall. You clench around him without warning, pulling your name from his lips with mouthwatering ease and sending small shocks through your lower half.

“Christ, baby,” he rocks his hips deeper into yours, burying himself all the way inside you, “how are you so close again already.”

You giggle quietly from underneath him, wrapping your legs around his hips and rolling your own to meet his thrusts. Your hands glide over his shoulders, soothing the scratches you left earlier. You draw his face to your own, pulling his lips down to graze yours. You want him to feel every word you say.

“Don’t play coy, you know exactly what you’re doing,” the end of your sentence is blurred with unrelenting moans.

His hand grabs your leg, pushing your knee to your chest before pushing you into the mattress with a world altering thrust, “you’re right darling, I just like to hear you say it.”

He closes the gap between your lips with another shattering push, your walls clenching harder than before around him again. You swallow each moan that slips from his mouth and into yours. His nutmeg scent clings to you and you know it will take days to scrub him off of you, not that you want to. You could very well spend the next century wrapped up in Kol in every single way possible.

He picks up the pace, slamming into you with controlled ease. Your hands lace through his hair, keeping him as close to you as possible. Your senses are overwhelmingly heightened, allowing you to feel every damned inch of him. You’re in serious danger of falling apart. The fiery ball in your stomach is at its peak once more. When he pulls your lip between his teeth, and you taste the crimson, it explodes.

This time you don't just see stars, you see the sun and the moon and every planet in the solar system. He continues to move in and out of you, drawing out the intensity of your orgasm as he rides his own out. You cling to him with everything you have, refusing to breathe anything but Kol. Everything in this moment is about him and the way he makes you feel. Nothing else matters anymore. Perhaps nothing even mattered before. All there is, all there has ever been, is this one moment.

When you finally land back on earth, he slowly pulls out of you, giving you one last taste of electricity before drawing you to lay on his chest. Your ears ring from the energy you just exerted at Kol’s mercy, your skin deliciously sticky against his own. You're completely and undeniably spent.

You don’t realize that you’re crying until you go to speak, “Kol.”

You feel the sharp inhale he takes rather than hear it. Before you can blink the fresh wave of tears away he’s flipped you around, laying between your legs again and propped up on his elbows. His face is pure concern, his eyebrows creased together in a way that makes you want to smooth every harsh line away. It makes you cry that much harder.

“Darling, talk to me,” he runs a soothing hand down your thigh, pulling you close to him, “what’s wrong baby?”

The tears pour faster at the gentle tone in his voice, drawing an answer to the surface before you even process what you’re saying, “Do they think I’m useless? Do you?”

Your voice is shattered, all the emotions from today coming together in yet another crescendo. You can hear your blood rushing through your ears, drowning out the sounds around you. It’s probably the reason you miss the footsteps pounding up the stairs. You can feel Kol’s soft caresses but just barely. The only thing registering in your mind is the feeling of being completely and utterly weak. Why do they keep you around if you can’t even hold your own?

“God’s no, never. Not even a little bit,” just as Kol speaks, the door opens.

Well, the door slams open, hitting the wall with a crack that echoes through the large house. Kol isn’t startled. He should be but he doesn’t even flinch at the bang. You, on the other hand, tense underneath him, the pounding in your ears still as intense as before. A woodsy scent flows through the now open doorway, pine mingling with your already nutty skin. The pieces start clicking together, albeit at a slower pace than you like.

You’re almost certain you know who’s in the doorway but you look anyway to make sure, “Elijah.”

His name is a whisper and it gets lost under Elijah's own words, his dark eyes searing into yours, “Kol, do you mind giving us a moment?”

Kol glances down at you, a small smile playing on his lips. You plead with him to stay but this is Kol, he’s your hell-raiser. He places a soft kiss on your forehead before he stands, still completely naked, and walks out of the room.

He pauses on the other side of the door, settling a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “careful brother, she scratches.”

Elijah shuts the door when he leaves, much gentler than he had been when opening. Your boys, always the ones for theatrics. He leans against the frame, folding his arms over his chest. You stand from the bed, trying to meet his height but failing. You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand but it doesn’t do much to clear the droplets. He tracks your every movement with a fire raging behind his chocolate eyes. You’re painfully aware of how much of your skin is on display for him; that is, all of it.

“What,” you pause when your voice cracks, stealing a moment to compose yourself, “what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be off saving the day.”

He pushes off the door, taking a few steps towards you. You can see he's fighting back a lot of primal instincts. He's as affected by your lack of clothes as you are. His eyes shift rapidly between his usual brown and a deeper coal colour. Despite the situation, you can’t help the heat seeping from between your thighs. He stops a few feet in front of you. There’s no way he can’t smell you right now.

“I was needed elsewhere,” his eyes dip down momentarily, his jaw clenching, “by someone infinitely more important.”

You watch him squeeze his fists together, forcing his eyes to remain on yours. The determination in them is unwavering and fierce. He takes another step towards you.

“It seemed important a few hours ago,” you drop your eyes to your feet, breaking his stare.

He grabs your chin, forcing you to keep looking at him and, in turn, igniting your body, “I assure you it was not nearly as important as making sure that you’re ok.”

Your throat tightens, aching with the promise of even more tears. You wish you could just stop. You’re not afraid to cry but usually you can control it. Right now you can’t. Everything has been building, every little insecurity has pooled, and today was the chip in the damn needed to make the whole thing collapse. It’s too much.

“I’m not,” you wrap your arms tight around yourself, gripping your arms with bruising strength to try and hold back the tremors, “ I am not okay Eli. I feel so helpless. Everytime you come home bleeding and exhausted and where am I?” You run a trembling hand through your mussed hair, yanking at the roots, “Here. Always just here, useless, letting you and Klaus and Kol take it all for me. Am I really that weak? That I’m just extra collateral damage to worry about? What is it, Elijah?”

The words pour from you, each one making him flinch like he’s being hit by an invisible enemy. Every syllable is a bullet to his chest. His body tenses further, his eyes no longer holding any trace of their usual warm brown. Instead they're pitch black, the veins under his eyes a deep plum. The veins in his arms pop as well, his fists iron tight. He curses under his breath when you finish. His voice is gravelly and scrapes the deepest pit of your soul.

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, whatever resolve he had been clinging to snaps. He pulls you towards him, wrapping his strong hands around your hips and lifting you against him, giving you a second to wrap your bare legs around his clothed hips.

“Elijah, what are you doing?” You cling to his chest, trying to avoid tumbling out of his arms when he begins walking you towards your bed once more.

He doesn't answer your question, laying you down against your ruffled comforter, “You aren’t collateral damage, baby.”

His voice is the lowest you’ve ever heard it, emanating from somewhere deep inside him. He opens the first few buttons of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head before making it even halfway down his chest. He drops it, much like he Kol had not long before, next to your bed. Kicking off his shoes, he kneels on the bed, coming to rest between your thighs. The heat emanating from you is now a furnace and it in no way goes unnoticed by him. His dark eyes swim across your naked body, drinking in every inch.

“Eli-” whatever you’re going to say is obliterated when he leans down and attaches his lips to the crook of your thigh, dangerously close to being exactly where you need him.

“You aren't weak,” he moves to your other thigh, nipping at the delicate skin and pulling unintelligible murmurs from your throat.

He kisses his way to your center, the anticipation growing like a knot in your stomach, begging to be unraveled once more. Even in the midst of falling apart you can’t get enough of these men. He lays a soft kiss against you, offering you the slightest glimpse of what you know his mouth can do. In the exact same way you had with Kol earlier, every part of you craves Elijah.

Your body arches willingly to meet the first swipe of his tongue, his name falling from your lips like a praise, “you aren't a burden to me, you beautiful creature.”

You cry out as he works his mouth expertly against you, his words humming ecstasy into your skin, melting away any trace of doubt in your mind. His arms wrap around your thighs, bringing you as close to his face as he can get you. The sight of him completely engulfed in your heat is almost enough alone to send you tumbling right there and then over the edge.

“You mean more to me than anything else on this fucking earth,” his dark eyes meet yours as he works you dangerously close to breaking before letting up once more, “and if I have to spend every hour for the next hundred years worshipping you to prove it then consider it done.”

He lowers his mouth against you harder, sucking your electrified warmth with renewed vigour. Your hands seek out his hair, tugging him against you and raising your hips to meet every pass of his tongue. The smell of pine trees and sex envelope you, brining you the closest yet to the kind of high only Elijah can draw from you. In this moment you’re nothing more than entirely his.

“I cannot lose you, baby,” he slips a few of his fingers inside you, “please let me protect you. I need to. Please.”

He curls his fingers just as the last syllable rolls off his tongue and into your core, shattering you into a million tiny pieces. Your hands fist his hair as your body clenches around his hand, pulling a delectable groan from his lips. Your third orgasm almost puts you to sleep on the spot, each of your muscles completely exhausted. Elijah watches you come undone the entire way through, nothing less than reverent awe locked on his face.

He wastes no time pulling your spent body into his arms, wrapping you as close to him as he can manage. You bury yourself against his neck, admiring how even the most unassuming parts of him have an undue amount of strength. He truly is your warrior.

“Eli,” you yawn into his chest, basking in the warmth of his skin, “I can protect myself.”

He tightens his arms around you, “I know you can, baby, but you shouldn't need to. I’ve been searching my entire life for a meaning. A thousand years of trying to be honorable. Then I found you and, all of a sudden, it all makes sense. All the searching and fighting and pain finally has a purpose: to protect you. Let me take it for you. Please.”

You’re speechless, there isn’t anything else to it. His words hit you with immense power, sinking into your skin and settling around your bones. You’re his, all of theirs, to watch over. You really didn't know he felt this strongly. You’ve always had to defend yourself. Perhaps you just aren't used to someone else being so willing to take on that task. Someone begging to take it.

He stands suddenly, with you still in his arms, and walks out of your room, starting down the hall. The faintest sound of rushing water fills your ears, lulling you into a welcome daze.

“Where are we going, Eli?” You have yet to open your eyes, stuck in the soft between being awake and falling asleep.

He kisses your forehead, resting his head on yours, “Niklaus said he wanted to take a bath, my love.”

#the originals #the vampire diaries #tvd #to #kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #the originals imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson smut #kol mikaelson smut #smut

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purplesurveys · 4 years

Text

988

survey by ashleybayle

Has anyone ever told you that you looked like a celebrity? Yeah. The most popular opinion I get is Anna Akana and a local singer named Kakie, and then more occasionally I’ve also gotten Lucy Hale. Of course, all of these people are absolutely gorgeous though so it’s hard to accept comments like these lol

When was the last time you got something done to your hair? Professionally, late February. But I trimmed my bangs last Saturday.

Do you have any change on you right now? Barely. I only have a few 1-peso coins and a couple of 25-cent coins left.

What color is the pillowcase(s) on your bed? They’re pink with white lines.

Do you have a favorite day of the week? I like Monday mornings because we have weekly video calls for work and it’s really the only time I get to talk to other people anymore. Even if I can’t really count any of my colleagues as my friends, I’m able to get the human connection I’ve been hungry for and it always leaves me feeling good for the rest of the day.

Cutting your hair extremely short, would you do it? Yeah. That’s what I did last February; I’d do it again once my hair gets too long. I’ll probably go even shorter the next time because depression.

Have you ever been in an art show? I’ve been to art exhibits, if you’re referring to the same thing.

Would you considered yourself to be well-exposed to life or sheltered? I was sheltered for most of my life but I’ve been trying to get exposed to more scary life things so that I slowly start to detach from people I used to normally depend on, like my parents.

How high is your pain tolerance? Not high at all. I bruise like a peach and have near-meltdowns over sharp objects especially if I get pricked by one.

Have you ever played the game Halo? I don’t think so. I could have watched others play it in the past, but I’ve never played the game myself.

Are you wearing any jewelry at the moment? No I’m not.

Is there a sport that you love to play? Table tennis! Futsal was also fun the one or two times I played it, and it was in playing that sport that I learned I apparently make a good goalkeeper. In an alternate universe I probably play football, ha.

Has anything made you sad in the past 48 hours? Yes. That’s a constant state of mind now.

Have you ever had to learn lines for a play/skit/movie? Yes. We were required to do so many skits in high school so making scripts and memorizing lines was part of a normal day.

Do you like your nose? I’ve never complained about it. I don’t normally think about my nose either.

Is there a hair color you prefer on the opposite sex? No.

Kissing someone with facial hair, do you mind? I’ve never tried it, so I don’t have a solid opinion.

Would you ever like to be a stunt person? Sounds fun but I’m barely physically fit for such a role and I’d break a bone almost immediately. Even professional stunt people get injured, so...

Are you a pyromaniac? The furthest thing from it. I’m terrified of fire.

How soon is your birthday? Six months and a day.

Are you one of those people who listen to songs on repeat? Isn’t everyone prone to doing that once in a while? But yeah, I guess I’m ‘one of those’ people.

Can any of your friends sing very well? Lots of em. Hannah, Tina, Ed, Andi, Michelle, Nacho, etc.

Would you ever enter any kind of pageant? That does not sound interesting to me.

Do you have piano fingers? No :(

What is your preferred curse word? Fuck.

When someone's drunk, the truth comes spilling out, correct? I guess, for some people. Other people express their drunkenness in other ways. But I for sure lose my filter once I’m drunk; it’s a lot easier to ask me questions once I’ve had a few glasses, ha.

Have you ever shouted something random at someone out a car window? I’m sure I’ve rolled down my windows to cuss out a stupid driver once or twice.

Have you ever slept on a beach? No. I know my mom does, but I personally find it risky/dangerous. When it comes to open spaces like the beach, I find it hard to trust people to not be thieves.

Would you like to be taller? It’s not an active wish of mine. It’d always be cool to be taller, but I’m also okay with my current height.

Are you a fan of piercings on the opposite sex? Not necessarily. I wouldn’t say I’m attracted to them.

Have you ever listened to Celtic music? Nope.

Do you enjoy making up words? I’ve never done that, no.

Have you ever been attacked by an animal? Aside from the time a giant bird kind of charged at me at a safari and getting playbites from Cooper, no. Cats hiss at me all the time, but I get out of their vicinity before they can attack me or whatever.

Who did you dance with last? Rita, Blanch, Mik, Laurice, Jum, a bunch of strangers.

When holding hands, do you intertwine fingers? Yeah. That’s my favorite.

Is there a movie that makes you cry every single time you watch it? This is gonna get some eyerolls but...Titanic. Forever one of my faves no matter how overrated people find it, hahaha. The “Rose Dawson” scene gets me all the time.

Do you ever talk to the TV? I mean if I have comments about the show I’m watching, yeah I guess I’m technically talking to the TV. But I don’t talk to the TV like a camera, if that’s what you mean.

What's your opinion on Johnny Depp? I feel for him and all the shit he’s gone through with Amber Heard. I’ll always feel bad for having sided with Amber in the past. Movie-wise, not really a fan of his repertoire but I respect his craft and abilities nonetheless.

Have you ever watched the Tudors? Nah but I hear of it a lot, so I’ve always been interested.

Can you speak in different accents? No. My dad’s super good at accents though since he travels a lot for his job. He can do American, Indian, Singaporean, Chinese, Australian, etc.

Who was the last person you mocked/mimicked? The annoying person at the BIR who wasted my time.

If you write, isn't writer's block the most horrible thing? I’d say it’s inconvenient, but it’s not the worst of my worries whenever it strikes.

Can you sew or knit? No but I’ve made up my mind about learning how to :) I put some cross-stitch kits on my online shopping cart recently and I can’t wait to get my hands busy.

Do you have a favorite pair of jeans? Yesssss. They’re the only pair of jeans I wear these days, on the rare times I have a reason to go out.

What size shirt do you normally wear? XS.

Are you good with money? I’m good with saving if I absolutely have to, but I’m equally good at spending all my money in one go lol

Has anyone ever aimed a gun at you? No. Don’t know how well I’d fare in that; I tend to freeze up and forget words when I’m terrified.

What is the first letter of the person's name you last kissed? G.

Do you use myspace for following celebrities, and facebook for friends? I never regularly used Myspace, and Facebook is for sharing memes, staying updated on the news, and connecting with family and friends. At least up until I deactivated last month.

Have you ever written a song? Maybe in grade school when it was an assignment for class, but never on my own time.

Do you believe there is life on other planets? Other planets in other galaxies perhaps in other universes, sure.

If you think about the universe long enough, it's baffling isn't it? Doesn’t take long for me, but yes it is.

When was the last time you fell? I haven’t in a while.

Are you a fan of Christian Bale? I wouldn’t say so. I don’t think I’ve seen any of his movies. I’ve been meaning to watch American Psycho for years but just never got around to it.

Do you have any sort of debt? No.

Is there an accent you prefer? I don’t know if prefer is the right word since I don’t have any favorite accents, but hmmm I can listen to Florence Pugh’s accent all day.

Have you spoken to the person you love today? Yep.

Would you ever travel to Los Angeles? If given the chance sure, but I honestly prefer other cities.

Have you ever been through a natural disaster? A lot of them.

Is there a specific time period that interests you? I don’t think I’ve ever been hooked to just one specific era...I’m interested in all of them and read about them an equal amount.

Do any of your friends own an expensive car? JM used to drive a Lexus to school on Fridays.

Have you ever been on a train? Just once. I had to go to Manila for a journalism class but I wasn’t willing to drive all the way there, so I took a train and had Jum keep me company because I didn’t know how commuting worked.

Is there a memory that embarasses you to think about? I mean yeah, there are a lot.

Have you ever used different colored paper clips? Possibly.

Where exactly are you right now? In a corner in my room.

Don't you admire those people who know exactly what they want to do? I admire anyone who’s able to make the best of what they’ve got, no matter what their progress is in life. Life shouldn’t be a contest of who gets their shit figured out the earliest or the best way possible.

Is there a guy you can talk to about anything? No.

Have you ever been in a parade? I know I said in a previous survey that I haven’t been to a parade, but now that I think about it I’ve been to several Pride Marches, which kinda count as parades...so yeah, I have been.

Would you ever consider being a news reporter? My entire family wanted me to end up being one, but it was never an interest of mine. I was just too shy to tell them that that’s not really my goal. I like staying behind the camera for the most part.

Are you, or anyone you know, an atheist? Yes and yes, I know several people who are.

Has anyone ever told you to "get a grip"? I don’t think I’ve ever gotten those exact words before.

Do people say you look your age? Or younger or older? Younger.

Have you ever sent a celebrity fan mail? Kind of. Five years ago my friend Heather and I were at YouTube Fanfest where Joe Sugg, Caspar Lee, and Oli White were part of the line-up, and we didn’t anticipate that so many fans would come with gifts even though there was no guarantee of meeting them. We came up with a little gift of our own, which was really nothing more than a tiny post-it saying that we love them lmao (we went to the venue straight after school, hence Heather having school supplies HAHA). It was such a poor-looking gift. We went to their assistant who was SUPER nice about it and didn’t make us feel like shit for our gift which was pretty much worthless and could easily get lost – it was literally a piece of post-it. I doubt it ever got to them, but we gave it a shot anyway.

Are you ashamed of how you acted when you were younger? Some parts of it, definitely. I grew up in a violent household, so I was violent towards my brother when he was a baby, not knowing how serious my actions were. I was also a pain in the ass while I was going through puberty.

Do you ever have those days where you feel you're the ugliest person ever? Yes.

Beauty is both external and internal, correct? Sure.

Have you ever been in a musical? Yeah, in grade school through high school. Never had a solo role, though.

When was the last time you swam in a pool? July 2019.

Is there a friend's family that makes you feel like you're family too? Angela’s. At one point, Katreen’s too, before we grew apart.

How do you know someone is your best friend? When I don’t feel like filtering my words around them, and when I allow myself to be fully vulnerable with them.

When was the last time you used a highlighter? Sometime in February I’m guessing. Before the lockdown and when I still went to school and had readings.

Has a flashlight ever ran out batteries on you in the dark? I don’t think so.

#survey #surveys

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laurasauras · 5 years

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What do you think Homestuck believes in?

g, i love you, your interest in me infodumping is honestly such a delight. i can sometimes feel like i’m talking way too much, but you always make me feel special, it’s lovely!

this is long, so i’m going to use a cut. i’m so sorry, mobile users. blame tumblr. tl;dr? i think homestuck believes in love, hope, and fighting even when the stakes seem insurmountable.

so there’s a lot of like “core themes” in homestuck, but “what homestuck believes in” is such a lovely and specific way to phrase it, so i’m gonna go with what i think the most important ones are.

firstly: love. and more specifically, all love.

look, there are romantic parts of homestuck. and they’re often show-stopping.

(also homestuck does visual callbacks very well, there’s a reason that these two scenes are composed the same way.)

but the core of the story is these four kids, all of them starting from a state of isolation. they don't have "real friends", they feel disconnected from their guardians, they feel disconnected from everyone in the world they walk around in, but they go online and they have each other. and they're constantly joking and making fun of each other, but they're also checking in almost every time they achieve something, as if grounding their friends in their real life.

the story keeps progressing and getting more and more complicated, but it can never quite overshadow the beauty of the pesterlog conversations between friends.

i think that's a large part of what the audience of homestuck connects with—that feeling of connection online and the support that the characters give each other.

i also think that a lot of the time, the friendships and familial relationships in homestuck were given the same—if not more—importance as the romantic relationships, which is fucking uncommon to see in media! almost every character has to come to terms with how their upbringing shaped them, and you know what? that's the same of almost every person.

the conversation between dirk and dave before the final battle is one of the most important and touching moments of the whole story! two of the characters most concerned with their adherence to masculinity and appearing Too Cool For Emotions talk about their feelings and trauma before hugging it out. and it doesn't further the plot, it isn't part of the hero's romantic arc, but it's vital.

the second big thing i think homestuck believes in is the importance of doing what is right. in being a hero.

homestuck positions john and his friends as the main characters selected by the universe to play sburb and literally ascends them to god status.

they're empowered by destiny! they're going to beat the game, conquer the worst villain ever and bring humanity and trollkind back from extinction AND their new world isn't going to be under the tyranny of a genocidal fish alien!

but that empowerment is also a disempowerment.

look at how frequently dave falls into the reluctant hero trope. fate fucking kicks them around. when they are so destined to do all that stuff, can they really be said to have free will? and when they do seem to make a wrong choice in relation to their destiny, it's either something that furthers the plot OR it creates a doomed timeline and they're usually killed horribly.

and it's a story that is constantly reminding us that it's a story! you can definitely lose yourself in homestuck, you can zone into it and accept the rules and just read it as if it's a reasonable reality, but i don't think it was ever written that way, or when it is, i think that that's a result of hussie accidentally getting into the story as well!

like okay, we start off with this:

that's fucking bonkers. he's 13 and he doesn't have a name? but of course it's bullshit, it’s just a cool homestuck thing. because we never get a conversation that goes:

TG: so the big 13

TG: you get a name yet

EB: yup! let me formally introduce myself as john!

TG: i give that name 4/5 hats

no, dave just immediately calls john by his name. and likewise, until we're introduced to the other characters and learn their names, they're referred to by their handle abbreviations, but the second they're introduced it's first name basis time. because it's a story and our perception is what matters most.

then we have the ridiculous intermission, that starts out as what dave sees when he goes to mspa.com and which resembles problem sleuth enough that i almost thought it was just that, but then seemed to be an entirely new adventure, and then became a pretty vital subplot!

and then we have the author literally climbing into the story and we watch him type it. Don't Forget This Is All Written By Me!

the website changes format, there are the meta jokes, there's the way that caliborn raises the same complaints to hussie about the story being too long and confusing that some members of the fandom were. there's the way that pantskat happened! or they drastic changes in artstyle, often because someone else was drawing a panel!

so like, we've got these characters who seem to have goals that they've developed of their own volition and who seem to have their own ways of going about achieving them, who at times even act contrarily to how hussie says he wants them to act (remember how he attempted to propose to/revive vriska and how both she and caliborn at different times type into the narrative prompt "instead of" hussie) but of course ultimately! he wrote every word!

they don't have free will, they don't even exist! but on a different level, which any writer can understand, once you as an author have established a character, you trap yourself into writing them consistently, which can mean that while something might be best for the plot, the character metaphorically crosses their arms in your head and goes "i would literally never do that."

some characters of homestuck become aware that they are and we know they are, but most of them don't think that, they think that they're just living the life they have.

how the fuck are his characters supposed to go about their days when their author finds it funny to block their path with a giant bust of snoop dogg? and when they work for pages and pages and pages to get around whatever asinine thing andrew fucking hussie (or worse! his fans!) has come up with, there's another obstacle and maybe there's not even a point anyway!

how do you not just dismiss it as something like "hes just being weird/an asshole/etc”?

yeah, look, he might just be having a laugh. but so to might god.

sometimes you're walking along and something really stupid happens and it makes you for a second want to believe in god so that you can stare at the sky and say "really." :|

think about why detective stories are so popular. they give the illusion that if you're clever enough, if you collect the right data and link it together, you can trace back exactly what happened and solve impossible riddles and make sense of the world. you meet a man who has dust on his knees and you can deduce that he's been sneaking down to the basement of the shop he works at to tunnel into the bank next door. there's nothing magic about it, watson, it's just good detective work.

and we neeeeed that lie! but you know how it works in the real world? in the real world, police are baffled at a crime scene until a decade later someone discovers the fingerprints belonged to a fucking KOALA! that's more ridiculous than a snoop dogg bust in a hallway, or most of the other things hussie has written.

i think like that's a huge message behind the epilogues too, because john figures out he's in a story in candy and everything feels pointless.

but if that's the world he lives in, that's the world he fucking lives in. there's nothing pointless about living.

and i think that clicks for him towards the end when he talks to roxy and then rose. rose actually thanks him for choosing a path that allowed her to have the life she had, because she loves her wife and daughter. like it's insane, but she's happy, that's the life she lived and she doesn't want a more sensible one.

so what happens to us when we get that feeling like the world is pointless?

(which is A Major Fucking Side Effect Of Depression BTW and i still stand by my interpretation that ALL of john's shit can be put down to his depression, which is what makes it interesting)

for a generation with fucking terrifying levels of mental illness, when we start feeling like the world is too crazy and the odds are too high, and there's fucking war happening and our friends aren't even guaranteed to be on our side?

we just fucking fight anyway.

because we live in the world we live in and we just have to be grateful that we are who we are because of that.

every character in homestuck chooses this, again and again, so i have to read that as hopeful. alpha dave and rose knowing who hic is and that their kids are so far away? still gonna fucking fight and fight LOUDLY even though they know it won't change things. (on top of the fucking white house, in case the political allegory was too subtle lmao.)

there are so many messages in homestuck and honestly i feel like i’ve barely scraped the surface of them. but what does homestuck believe in? i feel that in my heart. homestuck believes in love and in doing what is right, even when it’s hard to figure out what right is, even when you might not make a difference.

homestuck is good, actually.

#long post #homestuck #my post

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fieldbears · 5 years

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Washed-Up Stucky MNF/Fic Writer Provides Endgame Opinions

I’m going to try to tackle this linearly, at least to begin with:

I am very much Team Bored With MCU Hawkeye, but I want to give sincere props for the cold open, which I think accomplished several things simultaneously: recapped the consequences of the last film (since, hey, it’s been a fuckin while), set the tone, and began Clint’s narrative arc.

That said, jesus, I’m still irritated by the shoe-horned family to begin with. First they were invented for convenience and narrative stakes, and then their final, ultimate reason for existence was to be temporarily fridged. Take a moment to imagine a world where Clint was the circus runaway loner he was supposed to be, who only had his coworkers as found family, who either responded to The Snap by throwing himself harder into his teamwork work OR went rogue because his sense of justice and agency was so fucking destroyed by what happened. He didn’t need a blood family to have the arc he had. And he didn’t even need the arc he had. But this is a bitchfest about a choice made many years ago, not made in this final movie.

The first third of that movie was rough. The whole thing had the narrative flow of “A Series of Related Short Stories Played One After the Other”, but the first third seems to be Failing To Establish the New World and then Clumsily Establishing The Emerging Situation.

The establishing shots and scenes to show the audience what The Snap’s consequences were worldwide were... lacking. It’s dark? No more baseball? People are relying on natural light instead of interior lighting, but this is also happening at Avengers HQ, where they clearly still have power and internet access to work their tech, so... was it just an aesthetic choice? I feel like the film tried to spend time showing us what the consequences were for the average New Yorker, but instead we get a weird Canonly Gay Russo Character who gave a good performance that tells us about the human loss but not about the mechanics of this new world. We get the ‘no baseball’ shot and all we get afterward are ‘people miss the missing people’. But restaurants still exist? Businesses are functioning? (Wouldn’t New York run kind of smoother if it wasn’t overpopulated?) I feel like we were invited to start thinking about how this dystopia works, but were never given answers. (There are so many interpretations of how things could go wrong if certain people just disappeared, and their knowledge/access were suddenly unavailable, and none of it was explored, even briefly, outside of establishing shots.)

The Garden Planet - it’s discovery, the traveling to it, the fight there - lacked emotional grounding in a way I find hard to explain. The audience was excited for Brie Larson being a fucking boss, and the quick execution of the grab-him-and-cut-his-arm-off plan was satisfying, but the twist and subsequent letdown was just a weird beat after a slog to get there, after waiting on a deep letdown beat from the last movie.

Last thing about flow and emotional beats, because I want to move on to character analysis, and this is a huge one for me: Clint’s fight in Tokyo and Steve’s fight with himself were some of the biggest missed opportunities in the entire film.

Not counting the football field brawl at the end, which I don’t count as a real fight scene, these are the two major fight scenes of the entire film and as far as I can tell, there was no effort made to make these showpieces. They went to the trouble of bringing Clint to Bladerunner Central, and pit him against the last bastion of aesthetic-obsessed mafia in the world. The panning camera in the interior as Hawkeye fought goons brushed past lazy fight scenes that only showed who was winning, not the brutality that Clint was supposedly falling into, not the grit of this new awful world, just... shapeless dark bodies getting thrown through windows? And on top of that, they could have made up (or picked from canon) any Big Bad to pit him against outside in the street, and we get an Orientalist sword fight that could have fit in nicely on a CW superhero show, and some of the most unnecessary exposition dialogue I have ever heard. Someone bothered to weave Clint’s arc in earlier, with Rhodey explaining to Natasha that Clint’s gone International and also Worryingly Dark. Why the fuck do we have the ‘I’ll give you anything you want’ line, on the rotten cherry on top of ‘stop being mean to the yakuza, we didn’t start it’? You already covered his motivations with the cold open.

And while Steve’s fight ended in a FABULOUSLY HEARTBREAKING WAY, the fight itself was nothing - you can pick little character details out like how they both ditched their shields almost immediately, and it was funny that Then-Steve mistook Now-Steve for Loki in the first place, but it was still a completely lost opportunity to get one true superhero battle in this three-hour slog. Both Steves could have gotten up and carried out the rest of the narrative after a decent brawl, but instead they fall a great distance after some blocked shots and it... was nothing? Missed opportunity for some cool shit.

Okay, skipping to character assessments now:

Clint’s character has been mishandled from the beginning and this seemed to be the “better late than never” eleventh hour arc. Except the end of the arc is unclear - it made sense for him to fall apart after losing his Shoehorn Family, but how did Natasha’s choice to fall do anything but fridge someone else, with more agency this time? It makes Natasha noble, which she already was, and it made her win against Clint, which I appreciate, but Natasha didn’t need salvation through death and Clint learns nothing by getting them back, just experiences relief.

Bruce. I want to say, first, that I love Hulk in a Cardigan. Cardihulk can stay. I want fanart, I want t-shirts, give me all of it. But Bruce’s explanation of “I scienced it so I could get the best of both worlds” only gives us half of the acceptance that Banner’s character is already working towards. As we saw most explicitly in Ragnarok, the Hulk isn’t just a physical form, he has his own separate consciousness, originally defined by rage but revealed to be more complicated. Bruce merging into Cardihulk seems to have... erased Hulk’s separate consciousness without merging it into himself? If there had been some acknowledgement of a second voice still within him that shot out opinions or demands for certain menu items in the diner, this would have been a much cleaner end to his arc, which has been equally messy between actor and narrative shifts.

Speaking of Ragnarok... it’s time! Are you ready? Have you read articles about the Gambit Gambit too? Are you fucking depressed that a fat suit was used for comedy gags in the year of our lord 2019? Because I was. The Russos seemed to... not struggle with what progress Ragnarok had put onto Bruce and Thor’s characters, but reject it. This movie’s Thor was anxious for laughs, was desperate for easy answers to a a feeling of lost heroism, and it didn’t feel like a familiar character. The time-travel scene with his mother wrapped it up very elegantly, and was well performed, but that scene didn’t need to follow a series of “chunky drunk in sweatpants” jokes to show us that Thor was struggling. Everyone in the film is fucking holding on by their fingernails, but only one is played for cheap laughs.

At least we get the bisexual Asgard lady king we deserved.

Tony got the right death. He got a hero’s death and Pepper’s last lines of “you can rest now” were exactly the right lines to wrap up an arc characterized by fear and a desire to protect and control at any cost. I knew the MCU was never going to really acknowledge that Tony’s The Problem, even with lines like ‘you should have let me do the fascist robot thing, that was gonna work fine’ thrown around pretty much as soon as he touches down on earth again.

I’m not sure if there’s much to say about Natasha. It was fitting that she was running HQ, that she was struggling, that she was rejecting emotional help from Steve but clearly still close with him. Seeing her break down after hearing the report on Clint felt right after, I think, being told by several directors (or making the personal acting choice? idk) to just be as flat and as decolletagey as possible. And again, while I feel like she would be self-sacrificing on that cliffisde if given the opportunity, and that she would win, the narrative choice to place her there and have that be her end didn’t really give her anything she didn’t already have. She had nothing to prove.

I have a hard time really laying out my thoughts on Steve without launching into the pregnant absence of Bucky, but I’m going to try. Chris Evans did a good job being the emotional heart of a really fractured story with a lot of conflicting pieces. Seeing him lead a talk therapy session after The Snap seemed very out of character for him until one realizes that Sam isn’t there to lead it himself. His scene offering help to Natasha was another good scene between them proving that not every m/f relationship has to be sexual to be interesting or add to the plot. His leadership speech during the Stupid Fucking Slow-Mo Heroes’ Walk to the platform was well done and makes me think of what could have been for the MCU, if they’d ever just let them be a cohesive found-family team for twenty minutes and let them fight some doom-bots or something. Fuck. Imagine.

Something weirdly satisfying about the deceitful ‘hail hydra’ line in the elevator. Yes? Yes.

The hammer scene was satisfying to me without being too gratuitous, but I’ll acknowledge that some people weren’t into it. Having paid more attention to Steve’s arc than most, I’ll argue that he earned it several times over.

His ending - that is, the secret life he alludes to but doesn’t explicitly reveal to Sam - is earned too. I’ve read at least one thing saying that Steve’s arc was all about him learning to let go, but that’s... never what Steve does. Not at the end of any arc, of any comic story, does Steve let go. Not of his principles, not of the people he loves, he is always “Thinking... Thinking About Bucky!” and getting in fights he can’t necessarily win. So I don’t think his final ending is ever Learning to Let Go. I think it’s fair that it’s Just Once, Just This One Time, Getting What You Want And Getting To Enjoy It.

And now I’m backtracking to Bucky. I’ve read one article already that theorizes that Steve’s arc, which was highly prioritized, included literally as little direct interaction with Bucky as possible because... the MCU? the Russos? Marvel?... is aware that Steve/Bucky is the most popular same-sex ship in the MCU. And that’s tiresome as fuck but I think there’s some truth to it. I wonder if, like in Civil War, we’ll hear later from the actors that a lot of contextual one-on-one scenes were shot and then mysteriously cut from the final edit.

I will say that in my head, Bucky is relaxed when Steve goes back in time for the final time, and lets Sam goes to talk with Steve one-on-one at the bench, because Bucky is not worried if Steve will come back, and does not feel a need to check on Steve on the bench. Because, like Peggy, Bucky has been getting secret visits too. Maybe as far back as during his time in Wakanda, but certainly since the final fight with Thanos. Bucky was calm because he already knew. He didn’t miss Steve because Steve hadn’t given him an opportunity to do so.

#mcu #endgame #endgame spoilers #mcu spoilers

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spacejunk-tm · 6 years

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Do you have any tips for someone who's going through the writer block? Or any writing tips in general????

idk if you’re still in writer’s block hell but asldkjfsdf

first off, i suggest you figure out why you’re in writer’s block. is it that you’re not enjoying the feeling of the story? (1) that you’re not liking the dialogue? (2) that you’re not liking the scene? (1) that you’re having some personal problems and/or your environment isn’t conducive to writing? (3)

i might be able to help! (no guarantees but i’ll do my best) under the read more to save some scrolling

i find that isolating why you are having a block can help in solving the block!

(1) if you’re not enjoying the feeling of the story at this point, or enjoying the scene you are working on. I suggest you go back and find the last part you did like and redo. That can be seemingly tedious and trust me i’ve deleted 80-150 pages of text for this reason to get out of a block so it can be really painful to just chop it off or try a different route in your story (you can open a new word document and put the new path there if you don’t wanna up and delete everything!) you can also try to take a break and remind yourself what got you so excited about this story in the first place. what made you want to write it in the first place. listen to some music that reminds you of the piece (or completely new music! try to find songs that would fit scenes/characters).

if you are insistent that you can’t go back and delete things or redo, i still suggest you still take a different path with your writing. if you’re at a scene and you’re thinking “i just really don’t like how this is going” “i just really don’t like where the characters are at right now but i know i want this scene in the book, i know i want this part but i just don’t have the motivation/energy/ability to write this scene/point/part” i suggest you leave that document, open a new one, and write whatever the hell you DO want to write in this moment on that path. for me, this is usually a document that i have as “[insert book title name] REDACTED” which consists scenes that are like bloopers at the end of a movie or something. they’re scenes that might never get into the book but they can be funny, sweet, romantic, angsty, basically anything that you want to be feeling in that moment (even if it’s just you literally yelling “I DONT WANT TO WRITE THIS AAAAAA”) this might seem like a waste of energy or even frivolous but i don’t find there to be any such thing in art. you wouldn’t tell someone that was a painter that sketching on the side of a paper or on the back of an envelope was a waste of time (or you shouldn’t) and that’s kinda what this is like! i use my “redacted” things to kind of loosen me up and to help to get to know the characters better! Sometimes it can be very enlightening to know how your characters would react in AU-ish type situations or just blooper-ish types of things where they otherwise wouldn’t be like that! you can also use it for more serious things like monologues or even intense describing of a thing/place. don’t be afraid to get dramatic and use Big Movie Voice or whatever to write out things that otherwise would just be trapped in your head!

the point of this part is that you likely need to reignite your excitement with your story. you need to refocus and show yourself why you’re writing it in the first place. to rekindle the fire that was burning before you reached this block!

(2) if you’re having trouble with dialogue/character voices, get to a private place and SAY the dialogue aloud. it might feel silly to talk to yourself but having you actually have to say the dialogue can save you from getting a “newsie” or “robotic” type of dialogue going. it can also help you to pace, rant, or generally think more in depth about the different dialogue suggestions and perhaps to some things from (1) to help reorient yourself in the story!

(3) if you’re having a personal problem, a problem outside of your writing, there is honestly very little you can do until the “mood” passes. i find this to be one of the toughest writing blocks because it is self-feeding. you don’t write because you can’t because of personal/environment problems, but then you feel guilty about not writing and it creates the mood again to where you can’t write and so on and so forth. if your mood has gone on for several days or you simply can’t take it anymore, i have always found that writing exactly what i’m feeling from characters/places or the exact opposite of what i’m feeling can really swing me into and out of those moods when i’m desperate.

when i’m very, very depressed (and that gets nasty) i can write four page long monologues about melancholy and become Dramatic and have characters that are sad go through what i’m going through and that can really help to ease your pain. to simply get it out. even if it’s not sad, if it’s angry, or anxious or fearful or any strong emotion that holds you.

on the flip side, i’ve learned that writing the exact opposite can actually help to swing you out of the mood. this one is more tricky (for me) because you have to catch the mood at the tipping point of “i’m never going to be able to do this” and “f/uck it i’m writing SOMETHING” if i am very, very depressed writing happy characters in happy situations and making it so detailed and intense as if i am there with them can truly help to swing you out of that situation. when i’m having a fit of anger, i write some of the best love/romantic scenes i could ever write. this creates a slight “fake it ‘til you make it’ attitude that can help you in your real life and help you progress

and if you just read that and kinda went “yeah but none of those things are happening right now in my story!” i still suggest that you open a new document, write down whatever you want to write down, even if it’s just straight venting, and get it out. and some people might go, yeah but that’s just stupid writing! it’s not worth anything!

so what? not everything you write has to be worth gold. in fact, things you write for the purpose of being garbage can be worth gold. some of the best writing i have ever done and ever had praised was written in some of the worst points in my life where i was certain being a writer would never work and so i had all but given up.

that’s my main tip. give up the idea that everything is going to be perfect, sacrifice it to yourself and forgive yourself for holding you to that standard of perfection every time you opened your document. allow yourself to forgive yourself when you read this and (maybe) agree with me and then do hold yourself to that standard yet again.

it’s okay.

it doesn’t have to be perfect, you don’t have to be perfect, things are messy for a reason and art is meant to never be finished in the artist’s eye. you will never find it to be perfect because you can’t print the idea right outta your head and that’s okay!!!!! it’s okay to struggle, it’s okay to give yourself a break, take a walk, listen to some music, to allow yourself the ability to breathe and live without forcing yourself to perform constantly. and i know that’s hard, it’s tough to be sitting there and be thinking “i should really be writing” but know that your resting is also important for your writing. forced writing can often be worse and will only look more flawed.

and if you have to write, i still suggest you write out your situation, funny things or ideas, a new scene you want or perhaps one the very first scene you imagined for this story. just jump right to it. go reignite your story! go enjoy it!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#asks #long post #me stuff #i didnt see this until now sorry asldkjf #it's hard and i don't know exactly what's blocking you but #i hope this general stuff will help you !!!#Anonymous

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northernstaar · 7 years

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PSA: Anti call-out culture. This isn’t aimed at ANY---actually, yes. it is. This is aimed at anyone who supports bully-culture and call-out-culture. This is aimed at ANYONE who thinks its okay or funny to bully people or anyone who thinks its okay to send someone asks/anons that say “kill yourself!” “leave the RPC!” This is the reality of what’s going to happen if this culture continues. People are TOO careless, inconsiderate, etc, to realize something BAD is on the horizon with call-out, bully and hate-culture here in the RPC. Take a trip with me down memory lane. I’m not talking about 2012 RP. I’m talking about 2006 RP.

Why the hell would i choose 2006 RP? Well, it was an ACTUAL escape from real life. It was a world where a writer could broaden their writing or if not? simply just have FUN. It was a world where someone who was bullied, felt accepted. They could, for a couple hours, escape their identity and take their minds off their problems. It was a world where someone who suffered from depression, stood a chance in having their spirits lifted if only for a couple of hours. I’ve had the upmost pleasure of watching Roleplayers become actual best selling authors because of their exploration with their characters in RP. RP helped them spend time with their OCs and worlds and they went on to become amazing authors. THROUGH RP. EVERYONE minded their own business. Not just character-wise, but OOC-wise as well. Most people had a rule where they preferred NOT to disclose ANYTHING about their ooc-selves. You could speak to them of course, but jobs, family and sometimes even ooc names were off-limits. Now-a-days, people feel the need to post an entire paragraph about themselves.

Why were people so protective of their ooc selves? Because of how Tumblr RP is TODAY. Roleplay was what they did for themselves and Real life was none of anyone's business. If the people I met and still are friends with from back in 2006 still RPed, they would literally scream. There is NO privacy. People demand to know a writers: name, race, gender etc in order to be given peace and quiet in the RP. Age, I can understand. But what does it matter to you what that persons name, race, gender or sexuality is??? its none. of. your. business.

People now think that their RP character says something about the real persons views, morals, etc. That somehow? If you RP a villain, the person behind the computer is also going to go out and do those things? It’s called CREATIVE writing. Back then, RP really DIDN’T equal RL. People liked RPing with villains because they were that; a VILLAIN. They were cheeky, funny, rude, mean, etc. IT WAS FUN. You could be your favorite villain, hero, anti-hero and people weren’t concerned with the person BEHIND the screen. They were simply excited to see the CHARACTER.

WHERE AM I GOING WITH THIS, YOU ASK?

This isn’t about characters, pictures, themes, or anything like that. This is about PEOPLE and what’s going to happen to them if this shit doesn’t stop.

THAT RPC CALL-OUT, BULLY AND HATE-CULTURE IS GOING TO COST SOMEONE THEIR LIVES.

Roleplay is no longer a safe place for anyone because people feel like they OWN it to a degree that they have the right to dictate what EVERYONE does. It has become the very opposite of what it was created to be for; it now is FULL of bullies and people who are simply thirsty for blood. People that simply want to see someone...what? Do you want them to DIE? will that make you happy? will it satisfy you if your level of harassment causes someone to take their own life? Oh, that’s NOT what you want? Then what DO you fucking want? Because that is literally the only thing that seems like it. The toxic RPC call-out culture is going to be the reason someone takes their own life someday. Because its NEVER just one person sending someone hate. A person that has HUNDREDS of followers, sticks a target on ONE persons back, that means there are HUNDREDS of people attack them, too. Because they’re following the crowd. No one respects anyone. People attack someone without giving a SINGLE thought as to what that person is going through on the other side of that computer. They heartlessly send “death wishes” to these people without considering that that person might be suicidal and will take that as confirmation that they deserve to die. Or someone who has been sexually assaulted, and deals with it by writing it out and people anon-hate them because THEY don’t like reading it.

Answer me this, Tumblr RPC: WHAT. DO YOU. WANT? What will make you HAPPY? Will YOU FINALLY be satisfied with yourselves if your relentless bullying and endless call outs eventually drive someone to put a bullet through their skull? a razor-blade down their wrists? all for what? a community that ISN’T owned by ANYONE. A community of people who claim to be “anti-hate, anti-bullying, anti-drama” yet are the ones who spread the MOST of it? You don’t like that broad statement of suicide? But you’re so quick to send people things like “kill yourself” “get off tumblr” “you deserve to die” when the moment strikes when everyone else is doing it, but you don’t like to think of the deeper details of it. Like the fear, agony and relief as someone puts the barrel of a gun in their mouth two seconds before they pull the trigger. Or someone that cries in pain as a sharp object slices into the skin on their wrists and rips through their veins as they try to do it as quickly as possible to get it done. You don’t like that thought, do you? Too gory? Too graphic? Too SAD? Well you weren’t happy until that happened. Are you happy NOW ? It’s okay for you to watch that stuff on TV from 13 Reasons Why, but when someone writes about it, it makes you cringe? Then take a step back and realize something: THIS. NEEDS. TO. FUCKING. STOP. If Call-out culture, bully-culture and hate-culture doesn’t get stomped out, THAT’S whats going to happen to GOOD people. Someone that had their whole life in front of them, will be buried underneath six feet of dirt and rocks because people couldn’t be satisfied until they drove them to that point.

I know what many are going to say. “That’s a little extreme! But they’re THESE types of people and THOSE types of people! THEY WROTE THIS!” Now, I’m not saying that the truly problematic people like racists, pedophiles, etc, deserve to be “overlooked”. But the solution to this is so simple? don’t interact with them? warn your friends, warn other rpers privately, WARN THEM. That’s what we used to do in 2006. But for the more people who are simply creators and are good at portraying their characters or write things that they find to be therapeutic (like sexual assault victims, or ptsd sufferers), THESE are the ones I see called out and harassed the most. Those are the people I’m talking about right now. There are people that have been victims of call-out culture have come out and apologized PROFUSELY. Yet, i see people STILL attack them? So that just tells me “No, them coming out and apologizing is still not enough! I don’t know what I want! But I want it!” Well, guess what? It’s not about RP that they will end up taking their lives, its going to be the overwhelming amount of TORTURE that PEOPLE put on them. There is RP and there is RL and once you cross into RL and harass and bully and torment people, its no longer RP. That REAL person, becomes attacked. “That’s not what we’re saying!” But that’s how its going to end. The RPC call-out culure will NEVER be satisfied until someone takes their life.

2006 didn’t NOT have its draw-backs. I’m not saying it was the IDEAL time. People were pretty vicious. BUT ONE thing that has gone missing is the desire for someone to stand up in someones defense. No longer does anyone go to someone who’s being harassed and offer support. Instead, they follow the crowd and bully that person with others to avoid being attacked themselves. There’s very few of them here in the RPC and those few? Are absolutely rare gems. There’s always those handfuls. But shouldn’t that tell you something? In 2006, “hatesites” were popular. But those hate-sites were NEVER defended. Often, people HATED them, even if the disliked the person that the site was about. They stood up for that person because hating and bullying IS AND ALWAYS WILL BE WRONG.

The day that someone DOES take their lives because of this now-toxic community, ALL who told that person to do what they did, will be a KILLER. No, you may not have put the gun in their mouths, but you encouraged them to. That’s even worse. And that will give you the title you are most deserving of.

WHAT DOES CALL-OUT AND BULLY-CULTURE SERVE YOU?

So, if and/or WHEN that happens, how long will your SATISFACTION last? You make a call-out post, your little friends like it and giggle as they send “i hope you die” to someones inbox/ims, make public posts about them, tehehe, its all fun! You sent that person to their graves with your harassment. But...what happens to your satisfaction AFTER that? It’s not permanent. But that persons death WAS. They’re in the ground FOREVER and you experienced joy from their suffering for two minutes and are done and ready to move on.

You don’t think that will happen? You’d be surprised at what ANYONE will do when you rip away their creativity, hope and happiness. That is EXACTLY what RPC is working towards. All those memes you see of people “RP in 2023: someone: -breathes; everyone: -flies off the handle;” People are FEELING that toxicity. You think its funny, haha, but its because it’s true. That tension is here. It EXISTS and it GROWS everyday and more rapidly as people embrace this mindset to “gang up” on someone. The RPC is full of PTSD sufferers, Depression/Anxiety patients who use this community as a way of coping and therapy. So, you think that I’m just being dramatic? “Oh, that would never happen. It’s just RP.” Then think again.

Why does there need to be that unnecessary fatality?

See something being written that you don’t like? BLOCK THEM.

They don’t tag posts that upset you? BLOCK THEM.

A racist or problematic RPer? BLOCK THEM.

An annoying RPer you don’t like? BLOCK THEM.

An RPer you’ve had problems with in the past? BLOCK THEM.

A pedophile-infused writing? BLOCK THEM.

BLOCK. BLOCK. BLOCK. BLOCK.

You do NOT own RP. The next time you post a call-out and follow a heard of sheep that are bullying someone? Consider, for one second, that that person MIGHT be suicidal. Even if they are the worlds most EVILEST person, driving someone to their own deaths is NEVER okay. Wanna send me anon hate? Go right ahead. Fellow mutuals, wanna drop our threads? I understand. I will not be upset. But I will NOT for one second apologize for being against bullying and not wanting ANYONE to kill themselves. If my posting in defense of those people offends you? So be it. If my touchy, visual description of what suicide IS hurts your feelings? Consider how that person feels that you’re tormenting. If you unfollow me because of my getting sick and tired of the call-out culture? Go ahead. Support call-out culture? You do you.

#psa.#i have a 102 followers #lets see if i have 3 followers total after this psa #i will not be posting triggers in this one lovelies #im sorry but this needs to be said #this is the reality of it #if people dont #WAKE UP.

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