#I did anything for positive reinforcement or validation and just wanted to feel loved

[gh0stgarbage]

Yandere isn’t hot, you just want to be wanted and might have a sadomasochism thing going on

#unless you’re like 12 or smth #then you’ve probably been groomed or have been otherwise influenced to think it’s fine or even healthy #ghost speaks #callout post #text post #yandere #yandere x reader #yeah I used to like it too #this is coming from someone who was a neglected child so #I did anything for positive reinforcement or validation and just wanted to feel loved #y’all ain’t special #y’all ain’t cute

[stackslip]

what if you are a victim of sexual violence and you do feel forever damaged and angry though? what if you do feel that your perpetrators are evil?

so first of all, anon, i get you. your emotions and feelings about this are your own, and i'm not saying that they are fake or wrong. you're not a bad person for hating your abusers, and you're not wrong/bad for feeling damaged and angry. what i will gently push back on is that these are your feelings--i don't know your situation, past or current, and even if i did i still wouldn't be in a position to judge how you react to traumatic events. these are your own, nobody can take them away from you. what i am trying to say is, sexual violence does not have a specific essence different from other forms of violence that irredeemably damages its victims. rather, societal insistence that sexual violence is a black mark upon its victims, and a system made to fuck over victims of abuse and violence of any kind, leaving them little space or material resources to be able to heal in peace, leave many survivors barely able to stay afloat. it is normal to feel damaged when 1) you are told constantly that the thing that was done to you makes you lesser than, that it is your fault, and that you should not be able to talk about it or obtain any closure from it 2) for many survivors, ever since the violence occurred, they've been struggling with poverty, with being mocked and going through further abuse, with having very little space or material/emotional support to process and heal the pain they've been through, which compounds the feeling of being irreperably damaged. support of survivors *is* crucial to me. you should be able to leave your abuser and be in a space far away from them, to feel safe, to not have to worry about your material needs as your grieve and heal, to not being reinforced that you are broken beyond repair.

as for the question of your perpetrators, i'm not asking you to forgive and move on. again i do not know the context of what happened to you, but even then i cannot force you to feel anything, and forcing survivors in absolving their abusers in order to feel better does not do much. you cannot be forced to not hate somebody who's done harm to you! what i will try to push back on, though, is the notion that anybody is ontologically evil, and that figuring out who belongs in a class of ontologically evil people in order to wipe them out because they are Bad People Who Do Bad Things is not ultimately helpful as a whole. i'm not saying "if you killed your rapist you'd feel worse" bc that might not be the case. i'm saying that as a whole, a society that designates a group of people as irredeemably evil, and whose understanding of sexual violence is that it is done by Bad People Only who deserve to be lined up and shot, is not actually a society that reduces rates of sexual violence, or has the best interests of survivors at heart. you're allowed to hate your rapists and see them a certain way. but if you are told that the solution is to Kill All Rapists, that this will heal you and others and reduce the risks of sexual violence, the problem is that that just isn't true! if anything, it might make some survivors and perpetrators' families and friends even less likely to want to talk abotu sexual violence, because they have complicated feelings towards their perpetrators or materially depend on them. a society where people take matters into their own hands means even more silence around rape and sexual violence, and more shame around the victim. furthermore, it treats Being A Rapist as something people are born with, an innate evil, rather than the result of societal and economic forces, which then does nothing to actually prevent rape and sexual violence.

your feelings on the things that happened to you and the people who did this to you are real and valid. i am not judging them and nobody should judge you either. you cannot actually force yourself to love someone as yourself or to forgive, especially when you have been given no justice or healing. but also, while your feelings are your own, i will plead to you that using these feelings as justification to push for a worse world is not helpful to you or any other survivor. there are people on here and out there who will use what happened to you to try to convince you of a simple solution, one that they claim is helpful to survivors as they allow them to get justice in their own hands. but that is a lie. they are using your pain, your very real suffering, to obsfucate the real forces behind sexual violence and violence of any kind. they will often make you feel worse--not because revenge is morally bad, but because the idea that you are now irrevocably broken and damaged and that the only thing that can bring you a semblance of satisfaction is seeing all Rapists TM murdered is harmful to you too. it will not help you heal or make the world a better place for other or potential victims of sexual violence. it is a tool that people want to use in order to use it against more vulnerable people, who are seen as disposable and inherently predatory. it will not save you or others. so i am not urging you to forgive, or to magically heal from something traumatic. instead, i'm asking you to be kinder to yourself, to realize that while healing might not be in reach for everyone, including you, that it is because you were failed--not because sexual violence has inevitably broken you and soiled you. i'm asking you to not choose to support people who do not have your interests as a survivor in mind, but instead seek an easy solution with easily designated Bad People. i'm asking you to be kinder to yourself through both these things.

i hope this answer clarifies things somewhat. i wish you well. if you want to talk further about this in private, please feel free to dm me. i do not have all the solutions or the combination for a perfect world free of sexual violence, but i think there are paths to reducing said violence and making things better for survivors. sending you love.

#rape tw #csa tw #eli talks

[nicoleanell]

By POPULAR DEMAND (a couple of people said "hey Nicole I care about your Renfield 2023 meta")

Ever since I made this gif set of something that's grown to be one of my favorite moments in the movie, I was a little wary of responses to it? Not just whether the source or my highlighting of it would be interpreted as victim-blamey, but that some might actually use it as a jumping-off point to say something more insensitive and victim-blamey themselves in the comments/tags. (Which thankfully hasn't happened! But the first thing is a take I've seen from a couple of people.)

Now, I feel pretty strongly like "victim-blaming" or being anything but 100% on the side of the abused is the LAST thing Renfield (2023) is trying to do, considering [GESTURES AT THE ENTIRE MOVIE]. But I do think it needs to be unpacked a little bit.

This idea of having partially gotten yourself into a situation and that means you can get out and get better… that's not going to relate to EVERYONE'S experience. (Certainly not, for example, a person whose abuse started in childhood.) It's not a universal truth and I don't think it's meant to be. See that tumblr post going around about how fiction that's harmful (or just lightly off-putting) for some people can be healing for others, and vice versa.

But for this character it IS really important that he's not a perfect innocent victim but not an irredeemably bad person either. And it's also important that any Redemption he's capable of is not through shame and punishment, something he's had quite enough of already, but being alive and happy as the person he wants to be.

They have him acknowledge before the end of the movie - in a way that is framed as correct and honest - that he bears responsibility for where he ended up, on a very literal in-canon level. Although Dracula is manipulative and he's implied to have some degree of hypnotic power to influence/charm people, what did not happen (contrary to some versions of the story) was Renfield having his sanity and/or free will magicked away entirely. He made CHOICES. He continued making them!

But… there's something about the fact that he gets to own that without hating himself. He has to own it without hating himself. A not insignificant thing for him is to be able to say that he made mistakes and bad choices, and he takes responsibility for that, but that doesn't mean he deserves to suffer for those choices forever. He's allowed to move forward and be happy.

It's such a huge and weirdly nuanced take for this movie's version of Renfield to be fully accountable for his actions AND extremely sympathetic AND go basically unpunished.

Relatedly, I love the fact they acknowledge shame as a motivating influence on him, which is so fucking dark and sad and complicated coming from this movie?!?!?! A lot of people took that line to be specifically a queerness/attraction thing, and I think that's there and valid. But I also just took it to be like over time the primary way Drac manipulated him was through his shame over what he'd done & become.

Which is such a heartbreaking thing to throw in there, because everything else on that list (dreams etc) is a positive reinforcement -- the devil on your shoulder appealing to the things you want -- but then it crashes into this understanding that he didn't want to want some of those things, and that was also a button to push. There is something equally powerful to Dracula knowing what shames him and the exact ways he hates himself, maybe to take it away, maybe to just keep pressing it until he agrees he's worthless and deserves to suffer. That is MOST of the dynamic we actually see between them in the timeline of the movie, regardless of what their earlier relationship was like.

So the answer to that is not to say he's totally good and has done nothing shame-worthy, but it's also not to say he should be more ashamed actually, it's just… knowing all this and still believing he deserves to be alive and free.

IRL it's not uncommon for there to be a self-blaming factor within abusive relationships and some guilt and shame that goes along with that. It's not always incorrect to realize like: some of this was in my control, I gave a lot of power to this person willingly. I emotionally relied on them, I let my identity get wrapped up in them, I should've known better or stood up for myself or put up stronger boundaries earlier, and the fact I didn't just reinforced how hopeless I felt. It hits the same way for anybody struggling with addictive or self-destructive behavior. The flip side of all that can be understanding and forgiving that version of yourself and reclaiming that power rather than feeling ashamed and trapped by it.

And again! That's not necessarily the story or mindset that resonates with everyone, and it could be perceived badly if one feels it's speaking for all survivors. But if it resonates, it really does.

Last note: The movie also says very firmly that it is NOT as easy for everyone as simply "loving yourself, standing up for yourself, accepting responsibility etc." Like, I actualy think they made a pretty loud point that when your abuser is violent and vengeful and threatning to hurt you and others, you actually fucking CAN'T get out so easily and the self-help affirmations are kinda bullshit. HE NEEDED ALLIES AND SUPPORT IN A VERY REAL AND TANGIBLE WAY. Without Rebecca and also Tumblr he would've been fucked several times over. :) But the bullshit affirmations were still something that mattered to him emotionally, and something he drew strength from, to even get the belief it could get better into his own head.

#renfield #renfield 2023 #robert montague renfield

[camp-counselor-life]

As a person who works with youth, how do you talk about sexuality (specifically realizing one's sexuality) with children in a way that is age appropriate? Could you maybe go through conversation guidelines for the different age groups?

Hi friend,

So, I will preface this with a caveat: you need to always follow your organization's policies, whatever they are. In theory, they are developed with your group of campers in mind, their demographics, the area's overall makeup. It sucks when they're restrictive, but it's better to follow them when doing things proactively (reactive is different). Here are my suggestions.

General do's and don't:

Don't talk about sex. You wouldn't talk about heterosexual sex at camp, so don't talk about queer sex either.

Do reassure campers.

Don't try to correct outdated language with younger kids, unless they are unsure of what to call themselves.

Do follow organizational policies.

Don't feel pressured to do it on your own. Use picture books, videos, and other media. Preview them before use.

Do use language that the campers are using and are familiar with.

Based on your question, let's say that a camper comes out to you as questioning or some flavor of queer. This conversation should be semi-private, keeping within youth protection of being within eyesight of another adult, but preferably having another adult in the conversation. Here's a basic outline:

"Thank you for telling me. That took courage."

Ask them if they want to talk about it. If they don't, just reinforce that they did a brave thing.

If they do want to talk, just listen. Nod, repeat phrases back to them using active listening, but ultimately let them steer the conversation.

Reassure them that they are valid, cared about, and safe at camp. Do not make promises that you can't keep about being safe elsewhere.

If they ask you questions, answer within your camp's guidelines. Like, if your camp says that you can't share your sexuality, I'd recommend following that. It's ok to not have all of the answers. If sharing about you, try to keep it minimal and focus on them instead.

At the end of the conversation, thank them again.

Throughout the remainder of the session, regularly check in with this camper, which you should do with all campers anyway. Doesn't have to be anything about sexuality, just a "how's it going?" on a regular basis.

With younger kids, you may need to phrase some things differently. Like with a teen, they might talk about dating, but with a younger child they might talk more about "liking" somebody. It's important to mirror the language they are using. If a teenager is talking like they are 10, use that language as that's what they know.

That's probably my biggest advice, using the language the camper is using. It this camper using queer instead of bi? Is this camper calling themselves gay instead of a lesbian? Is this camper using a microlabel you are unfamiliar with? Use reflective language, using terms they know and are familiar with.

Then I would suggest sticking with letting campers take the lead - answer their questions honestly and in a way that you would answer questions about heterosexual relationships and families at that age. You're not going to explain sex to anyone at camp. But it's ok to say something along the lines of, there are many different ways to love others, like friends or getting married, it's important to respect each other and yourself and be true to who you are. With teens you can use similar things with slightly more mature terms and more focus on dating, like a healthy relationship is more important than a straight one.

Please tread carefully given our current political climate with this. Don't put yourself or your camp in the position that you could be in danger of any kind.

I hope you find this helpful. Have a great summer!

#gay scout camp #anon

[hopefullyhealing]

The shit he put me through - Part 1: Boob fetish

CW : lots of misogyny, some sexual (not explicit) content, emotional abuse, religious trauma, body image, weight loss, disordered eating

Trauma dumping for an outlet as I process my divorce and the unhealthy relationship that I endured. Maybe someone can relate or learn from it.

1. Pressuring me to wear revealing clothing while also making demeaning comments about women wearing revealing clothing.

2. Constantly begging me to wear a push up bra that was uncomfortable. When I chose to go braless or wear something more comfortable he acted as though this was a personal insult to him.

3. Telling me the most attractive I ever was was when I was 10 weeks pregnant, lost 7 pounds in a week from throwing up daily, couldn't rest anything except plain rice, but my breasts were swelling. Years later he would still guilt me about not trying to squeeze into a fancy dress so he could enjoy my body when I was so attractive. (Nothing more appealing than wearing a restrictive too small dress while battling constant nausea am I right)

4. Giving me stretch mark reducing cream in my Christmas stocking while I was pregnant, to prevent my boobs from stretching too much. He also gave me a birthday card all about boobs.

5. Pouted when I didn't want to have sex anytime just because when his attempt at foreplay was simply squeezing my boobs. Started rejecting my kisses by blowing in my face anytime I tried. For years. His love language is physical touch ... But he rejected my kisses and hugs and cuddles. I desperately tried to speak his language while maintaining my boundaries and trying to not be objectified.

6. The many times over seven years I tried to communicate that I did not find his obsession with my breasts attractive and asked if he could tell me something he liked about my personality... Or even another body part... Asked for assurance that he would love me even if my body changed... (Spoiler; he wouldn't) He rolled his eyes. I just didn't understand men. He asked why I needed so much validation. Told me to read this book about codependency and stop being so needy. (I tried.)

7. After my daughter stopped breastfeeding and my breasts were less full, he told me I should work on losing weight. I did. I lost 25 lbs in 4 months. He cheered me on initially (the only positive reinforcement from him at the time) until he realized that my boobs were deflating even more. Then every time he touched them his face fell. He didn't want me anymore.

8. His response to me stating that women should not be objectified - insisting that he was a victim because I didn't let him "enjoy my body enough before it changed."

9. Telling me he was embarrassed for me when we went swimming because "some of the older women at the pool have nicer boobs than you do, and you're still so young" (when I've been trying to focus on body neutrality and appreciate my body for what it does and not what it looks like)

10. Told me he was unhappy in our marriage and the only thing he could think that might fix it was a boob job. (which he acknowledged was so unfair to me.)

I considered it. I talked to plastic surgeons. But ultimately it wasn't about my breasts, it was about disrespect and literally viewing my body as an object he was entitled to.

*Note we are from a very high demand religion (LDS) so no sexual contact including second base was allowed until marriage. I went into this marriage understanding he really liked boobs, but not understanding that (almost) the entire reason he wanted to marry was to have access to boobs he didn't have to feel guilty about looking at. I've been deconstructing purity culture for a while. I tried to help him overcome his shame but I got ^^^ instead.

#trauma dump #purity culture #misogyny #divorce #emotional abuse #women deserve better #unhealthy relationship #exmormon #fuck the patriarchy

[the-technorats]

3, 5, and 7 for the writing asks :)

!! thanks for the question!! :D

What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

man, i feel like i don't have a good answer for these first two but i'll yap about it anyway. i think maybe because i'm still learning and figuring myself out as a artist/writer in general, i don't have too many specific behaviors engrained? i'm pretty bad at getting started at writing things so clearly i haven't found the ritual that just gets me in the zone. also, with my depression, it gets hard to self-motivate to do things - often times i need external pressure/reinforcement (ideally positive, but, yknow. negative also works lol) to really get moving since it's easier to do things for others (or the idea of a general audience/'s enjoyment/validation) than find reason to do things for myself.

some preferences i do have include: having tea (jasmine and earl grey are some favorites), having a candle lit, writing at dusk/night. and then often times i reread old stuff i've written/posted to remind myself that i'm capable lol. after that, i just have to bully myself to get the ball rolling. the blank page really fucks with my head, enough so that i can't even make a new document to write my notes, i have to put them in my notes app or in the discord server i have with myself because it tricks me into thinking the stakes are way lower than i've convinced myself they are. (this is, ofc, on the occasion that i even have notes at all, which i often don't.)

something else i've found that unfortunately works for me is making writing the lesser of two evils; writing is one of those things that i love doing but never opt to do even though i want to? i wish i did? i hate it i dont know. even now, i'm writing this because i don't want to be writing an academic paper. i find it a lot easier to write fic/tion or other leisure types of writing when my alternative is doing something way more dreadful.

Do you have any writing superstitions? What are they and why are they 100% true?

honestly, i don't have a good answer for this one either. i wish i had a more glamorous writer lifestyle than my run-of-the-mill "start two days before it's due" or "hammer out two pages and then abandon the idea for two years" process. i feel like all of my writing habits are purely logistical and not spiritual. (maybe i should try and be more spiritual about it? i'd try anything to make writing an easier process but i also think i have a sort of house m.d. mentality about suffering and artistic process and whatnot.)

the only thing i can think of is that i can only look back and edit a few paragraphs behind my current progress. i can't go all the way back to the beginning and reread until the first draft is finished. if i realize a continuity error at the current point that would warrant needing to go way back, i still can't edit it, i have to leave myself a comment. only once i officially proofread/do a second draft can i touch any of the earlier stuff. again, though, this seems almost entirely logistical; i just know if i go back to reread, the rest will never get written. (tangent note: i have a friend who makes a new document for every draft. i don't know if that's normal? maybe like using layers for digital art? but i definitely don't do that. the doc i start in is the doc i paste my notes in is the doc my final draft is in)

also, once i post something/deem it finished, i will never edit the google doc again. i just believe in like, the sanctity of the way i chose to write something as the me i was at that point in time, including the font, grammar, cringiness, etc. (and i also like how google puts the timestamp of "last edited on [x]." if i edit it again, that timestamp won't be true to when the writing was finished.) this one's still not exactly superstitious, it's just like. you wouldn't go back to your childhood drawings and make edits.

What is your deepest joy about writing?

all of the typical artist shit rings true, of course - materializing something that didn't exist before; being able to create something that others can connect with; of course being a part of communities that share my interests and obsessions and nerdiness and insanity. the most indulgent part of it is the part where i get to play god in my own little head, projecting all of my emotional inner workings onto a character and getting to therapize them via their environment. allowing the things that depress or upset me to receive comfort and gentleness and understanding and all of the things i don't think i deserve when they're in my head.

and of course, writing is one of those things, like art, like any form of just - physically making marks - that is so innate. like how beautiful is that, that since the beginning of time one of the things we've always done is depict. illustrate. we just want to understand things. weather and outer space and the elements and animals and human nature. we sang songs to remember epics before we ever wrote them down. and god, damn, fuck its just one of those things that fucking gets me, deep down, that i'm just human and part of humankind and no different than anyone else has ever been, in a good way. that someone will sing the epic to me and i will sing it to someone else and i don't have to do some monumental thing to have a purpose; i can just pass on one more story.

#writing #thoughts #ask #<3 #i've been so busy catching up on schoolwork #i've been meaning to finish writing this for so long #thank you for asking!

[wittynameme]

Tw : abuse and internalized trauma

i don't feel that "warm fuzzy satisfaction of a job well done" that was described to be as a child. Everyone around me acts like they get a sense of satisfaction and pride from the act of work itself. I can understand feeling better or proud of the result of proud of perserverence (only a little bit) but not the work . The words "work" and "productive" feel gross to me, like I feel an icky ace in my chest when I say it, similar to guilt or shame. Like if I said a slur on accident getting too into a song or something.

My hypothesis is that nobody truly feels pride at their work, it's a conditioned responce from positive and negative reinforcement from childhood. We are told over and over again that we should be proud of doing a task, like it's already implied that we should, we get praise and social validation for doing so and so we implement it into our own sense of self . Our parents gave us attention for it so we did it more.

Growing up I was asked by the older people around me "see, doesn't that feel better? Doesn't that feel warm and fuzzy, don't you feel proud"? Like- no I don't. And I'd really like it if you'd stop trying to force that feeling I to me . It feels violating. I want to cry.

And so over time I only assosiated work with:

. corporate propaganda

. people who fell for propaganda

. people trying to force feed me an emotion.

On the other end of that spectrum you had adults like my fourth grade teacher Mrs markham , who on the first day of school pulled me side , got right up in my face and said "I am going to break you" . And she damn well tried. To this day it's her voice along with the cocophany of others mocking me whenever I get up to wash the dishes. The shame physically hurts, that I'm giving in, that I'm doing what I'm told, that I'm broken.

"your just a brat that was never told no and now you cry whenever your told no, you need someone to counter act that"

" you deserve this"

" you need this to give you a spine or you'll turn into a degenerate"

"you need pain"

"you wont survive without someone yelling at you to get your r***** ass off the couch and do something'

"I knew I was right all along, one day you'll love me for this".

I want to throw up after cleaning. If feels dirtier than when it was cluttered. I feel like I'm not safe. Like this isn't my room anymore, like it's on display for someone else's approval. Like IM on display seeking someone else's approval.

And then I seek help from others and they say stuff like 'oh yeah I totally understand, I get so stressed feeling like I haven't done enough, but your feelings are valid! Just take baby steps and I know you don't feel like you're doing enough but I promise you you are"! Like no. That wasn't what I was feeling at all and I e never felt more alone in my life. Like yeah I get the feeling of guilt , like I'm less than human because I can't take care of myself, and then on the other shoulder I have guilt for doing anything at all!

I don't have a fairy and an imp I have a devil and then ju6another devil but wearing khakis.

I know. I know. You don't need to tell me. I tell myself on loop every day already.

I sound like a brat. Like an edgy teenager all "society just wants to break me ! I'm a reble ! You don't understand me MOM, I DONT WANT TO CLEAN MY ROOM because it's just a part of the machine"!

But like...we all know now that that stereotype is ageist and used to reduce teenagers emotions to a diagnosable set of hormones and brain chemicals right?

We can all move past that and acknowledge that I actually dealing with an intrusive thought that sounds like my elementary teacher telling me to kill myself because that's the only good thing I could do for my family and that's actually seriosly messed up and not in a quirky funny haha way , in a like ... Super fucked up that I thought it was funny haha as a teenager because of that exact steriotype right?

Now I'm *checks* 22 and dealing with SERIOUS issues completely alone because of this shit.

#Trigger warning

[tamlinsimp]

Rhysand’s Manipulation 101:

Orange Highlight - Asking her to be the bridge between him and Tamlin to get SC to work with him is using Feyre as a pawn. He is using her for his own advantage. And Rhys inducing Feyre into an emotional state that makes his option a better choice and making her feel bad about herself is manipulation. 

Peach Highlight - People who say these things, “I know you more than you think,” make me wanna vomit. This is often used to establish a connection that isn’t there. To make their next “suggestions” more credible and valid. To make somebody think that they ultimately have their best interest in mind. No, Rhysand, you do not know her here. Because prior to this, you didn’t know her as a human. She hasn’t even figured out herself as a fae so how could you possibly know her? 

Tamlin, in fact, did not sit on his a/ss for 49 years. Never mind that he actively worked to break the curse, protected his land and people, fought Amarantha’s cronies and took refugees from other courts. He absolutely sat in Spring court listening to the birds sing. And again, Rhysand, the constant need to one-up and/or make Tamlin look bad is so obvious. Both he and Feyre knew Tamlin couldn’t do anything. He was stabbed with ash wood. His wound was healing very slowly because he didn’t have his full power. I doubt Rhysand forgot that, but it was convenient to selectively leave it out to make it believable that Tamlin did not do anything to save or help Feyre. Fake News, Rhys.

“Do not try to delude yourself that any of the fae will give a s/hit about your family across the wall” and here we go again with Rhysand devaluing Tamlin’s actions. Tamlin actually cared for her family much more than the other faes did. He warned and informed them as best as he could about the potential threat heading to the human land (Amarantha) and instructed them on what to do and where to go - all while Prythian was under oppression. I find it hard to believe that Tamlin wouldn’t have protected them if it came down to that.

Yellow Highlight - it wasn’t even officially established in this part, just yet, that Feyre had all of the HL’s powers, but I love that Rhysand was already working his way to use Feyre. You know, like a pawn.

Blue Highlight - that d/amn “choice.” Instill fear then give her a choice. Instill guilt then give her a choice. This isn’t a fair freedom of choice. The constant “it’s your choice” is emotional manipulation especially if it’s attached with strong emotional pulls & with the intention of establishing a sense of everyone else making decisions for her when that isn’t the case. 

Purple Highlight - Feyre framing herself as the ultimate victim. Let me explain why. When she brought up the whole title conversation to Tamlin, he asked her if she wanted a title. She said no. She doesn’t feel comfortable with people calling her a High Lady. Conveniently enough, right after that talk, Rhys kept pushing the idea to her that Tamlin sees her as inferior to him. Then he **magically** brought up her becoming a High Lady. That she CAN be a High Lady if she wants. WHOOSH. Smooth. Not really. You get SJM works here. 

This whole passage is Rhysand blatantly and skillfully manipulating Feyre. He presented several events that were emotional triggers all while she was vulnerable. This takes away any rational deliberation approach. He is casting doubt about her position in Tamlin’s life while inducing guilt should she ever choose it. He is misinforming her about what actually happened UTM to reinforce his negative perception of Tamlin, further discrediting his decisions as a HL. He is also exerting pressure by using her weakness (family and the mortal world). All to sway Feyre towards his given “choice.” Why couldn’t he reach out to Tamlin diplomatically without using Feyre as a middle? Why couldn’t he involve Tamlin in the decision making in needing Feyre’s help to find what HE needed, which was going to be used to fight Hybern anyway? It only makes sense to include him since he’s also a HL and Feyre’s partner. And if anything, Hybern as a threat should have been discussed with all the HLs before Feyre.  Nothing in this proposal is logical strategically and politically — and nothing suggests that it is with the intention to help Feyre. In fact, it comes off as a plan to eventually get Feyre. 

#anti rhysand #anti feysand #anti feyre #anti sjm #pro tamlin #acomaf

[kaitsawamura]

would you like to stay forever?

SUMMARY⎮   Sparring with Pro Hero Kirishima Eijiro in his private gym at his home doesn't seem like a bad idea if you don't count the fact that you really, really like him.

STATS⎮ minors do not interact, 18+ ⎮  Rating: M (for mature)  ⎮  WC: 5525  ⎮   Pairing: Pro Hero Kirishima Eijiro x Fem!Reader  ⎮   Tags: Aged Up Character(s), Friends to Lovers, Sparring, Smut, Fluff, Age/Experience Gap (if you really squint)  ⎮  AO3

NOTES⎮  Thanks to @spacelabrathor​ for listening to me scream about this and to @some-kindofgnome​ for fueling my Kiri fever dreams.  Yes, that title is based on a Mulan quote. This whole fic was based on THIS POST and Kirishima seemed like the perfect character for this pwp.  Hope y'all enjoy!  (Also please for the love of God, click on the banner to see in HD if you’re on mobile, it looks so much better lol)

It was Saturday and even though you’re on your way to becoming a Pro Hero, you can think of several things you’d rather be doing with your one day off than going to Kirishima Eijiro’s house to spar.  But here you are pulling into his driveway, going over combat moves in your head as if your life depended on it.  They weren’t really serving their purpose which was to distract yourself.  Kiri had offered up his personal gym, encouraged you to stop by with one hand in his pocket and the other rubbing the back of his neck as if he was nervous.  

A couple of his friends had already taken him up on the offer.  You were the only one he’d offered who hadn’t come over yet.  He had texted you a couple of weeks later saying he was starting to take it personally…  and then immediately texted with a laughing emoji just to clarify he was only giving you a hard time.  It brings a smile to your face now as you remember it.  Yesterday he had also clarified it would just be the two of you if you were self-conscious sparring in front of other people.  You’d have the whole place to yourselves.  Like that should mean something.  Which it did.  It does , you realize with butterflies growing in your stomach.  Kiri doesn’t need to know that though.

The two of you had been toeing around something since you had been hired at Fatgum’s Agency a year ago.  Neither of you had made a move.  Kirishima, the Red Riot, was a big Pro Hero and while you took pride in your quirk, it didn’t hold a coin to some of the others you’d come in contact with.  It had surprised you when Toyomitsu had brought you on.  But he had mumbled something about “liking your spunk” and that he thought a teleportation quirk would be a useful one to add to his agency.  The first day you had shown up, Kiri had immediately caught your eye.  Not for the obvious reasons.  Obvious reasons being the fact that he was climbing the Pro Hero charts or the fact that he had a dynamically interesting quirk or that at twenty-five he was already built like a brickhouse. 

Those were all valid reasons, yes, but what had pulled you in was his smile and his genuine interest in you outside of your quirk.  But he was just like that you had quickly discovered.  He knew everyone’s coffee order and what they liked for lunch.  He knew when to push and when to back off.  He knew when to talk and when to listen , knew when he still had a lesson to learn.  The kids flocked to him.  Even now you’re still entirely convinced that’s actually his quirk, getting people to like him.  It’s not a difficult thing to do though.

Your brain stutters back to the present when a text notification pings from your cell phone as you sit in Kiri’s driveway, picking at non-existent lint on your gym shorts.  The cute ones you’re still convincing yourself were your only clean pair and that’s the only reason you wore them.

KIRI : i saw u pull up, u gonna come in or what 😂

Had he been waiting for you to get there?  You tapped out a quick response, one that hid the little flip in your stomach at the thought: creeper, you were watching for me lmao

Response bubbles immediately flash on your phone screen but you’re angling out of your car and shutting the door before he can reply.

Somehow, this house fits Kiri perfectly.  It isn’t big.  You had seen pictures of other top-ranking Pros’ houses.  Enji Todoroki’s house, for example, was fucking ridiculous.  But even without a massive floor plan, Kiri’s house is nicer than any you’d been in for some time.  Clean, straight lines and lots of windows.  In fact, you can see straight through the floor-to-ceiling windows out to his backyard when you reach the front door.  Is that a pool ?  Kiri had tons of fun showing pictures at the agency; it was a well-deserved investment for his already multiple years of service as a Pro.  The pictures hadn’t done the place justice though.

Kiri comes to the door, throwing it wide open with a huge grin that shows off his sharp teeth.  You ignore the way your mouth goes dry as he drags you in, babbling on like an excited little kid at you actually coming.

“I really thought you were gonna back out!  I mean, that would have been fine, of course.  I just can’t see the point of having the whole place to myself all the time.”  He’s irresistibly cute, walking around showing you the living room and the kitchen and pointing out to the backyard where, yes, there is indeed a pool.  “You can come over any time and use that too if you want!”  You thank him, warmth pooling in your stomach at how incredibly nice he is.

“Uh, we should probably get in the gym.  I have… stuff to do later,” you finish lamely.  You don’t have anything to do later but very quickly you’re realizing how far out of your depth you are here.  The familiar beginnings of the head over heels fall is washing over you in steady waves.  But you’re coworkers and the thought of coming to work every day and having to see his adorable face and not doing anything about it is almost making you nauseous.

“Oh, yeah, it’s just down the hallway,” he rumbles, leading the way and you follow trying and failing miserably to calm the nerves flashing through your veins.  You’re here alone with Kiri , the man you’ve been crushing on since you’d started working with him a year ago.  And now your stupid brain isn’t just thinking about what it would feel like to run your tongue along his teeth or how his hands would feel between your legs.  No, your stupid brain is thinking about what Kiri looks like when he first opens his eyes in the morning.

Your one-track mind is not getting any help, especially when Kiri walks through the doorway of the gym addition and immediately proceeds to pull his shirt up and over his shoulders and tosses it to the side.  Shit.  His back muscles ripple with the movement and when he turns to face you, it’s heart-wrenchingly obvious that he has no idea the effect he’s having on you.  He has to know .  Doesn’t he?  From your end, it seems wildly obvious that someone as good-looking as him should know .  

You glance around, eternally grateful for the fact that the gym is also attractive.  Floor to ceiling windows span two of the walls here as well and there’s a large set of French doors leading out to the yard.  You find yourself actually in awe when you get a better look at the landscaping.  It’s so green .  There’s a small patch of lawn but the rest is just artfully arranged native flora and fauna.  Violets, tulips.  Huge hosta plants.  And cherry trees heavy with their signature sakura blossoms.  

“Kiri, it’s beautiful!”  He comes to stand beside you, looking out the French doors as well.

“You like it?  I guess it is pretty nice, huh?”  You glance up at him, your chest expanding on a lurch looking at his smile.  You’d never noticed before but he has a light dusting of freckles across his nose.

“Yeah, really nice.”  You look out again, letting the silence grow until it feels like the most comfortable thing in the world.  After what seems like an eternity Kiri clears his throat, rocking back on the balls of his feet.  “What are you thinking for today?”  The question leaves your lips and you’re immediately regretting it; your stomach flips again when Kiri looks at you like you’re prey.

“Close combat, hand-to-hand combat.  You did mention a while ago you wanted to strengthen that, right?”  You throw your head back, rolling your eyes, and groan.  The two of you make your way to the center of the mat.

“Yeah, I mean, I’d be scared to take me on too,” Kiri says, large hands on even larger hips.   He isn’t as tall as some of the other heroes at six foot three inches but he’s wide , thick.  You know for a fact you couldn’t wrap your arms around his waist and have your hands meet.  He’s wearing the biggest shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen.  The sharpened points of his canines are out and on prominent display.   Famous last words you think as a snarl erupts on your face.

“I’m not scared , Kiri.  I just don’t want to wear you out .  You’re a Pro Hero.  You’re on the job a lot more than I am.  Plus, you’re getting kind of old.  Is that a little gray I see coming in?”  Kiri bares his teeth even more but it’s not lost on you that he quickly reaches up to rake his fingers through his hair.  There isn’t any gray, obviously , but the thought has Red Riot distracted.  Distracted enough that when you plant your feet and your fist connects with his face, your knuckles hit skin and not the reinforced rock of his quirk.

“ Shit.”  Kiri takes a step back, reaching up to cradle his jaw.  His tongue swipes out to lick at the blood on his bottom lip.  His vermillion eyes find yours and if you didn’t work with him on a regular basis, you would have felt fear at this moment.  You know he wouldn’t hurt you but even now, a thrill races through your veins like electricity.  He looks as if he’s going to devour you.  You take your own step back, readying your quirk, reaching out to it as your fists hold their position in front of your body.  A dark chuckle spills from his chest as Kiri calls on his own quirk.

Now it was your turn to be distracted; you had always been fascinated by Kiri’s quirk, the way his body looked when it hardened up.  The ripples of muscle still visible under the toughened skin.  The divots and ridges and how they mapped their way across his shoulders and chest and abdomen.  You knew how it felt to the touch in fake combat.  The Fatgum heroes all took pride in maintaining a healthy routine; sparring was a common workout that was previously done at a local public gym.  You wonder absently what it would feel like to touch him slow and at the moment.  When you could give extra attention with extra time. 

Kiri closes the space between the two of you at the moment your mind strays and you barely are able to teleport out of the way to avoid him crashing into you.  You try to take a swipe at him as you materialize from in front of him to behind but this time he’s ready for you and he’s using his quirk.  Instead of moving out of the way, he plants his feet and allows your punch to hit.  Pain radiates up through your fingers and wrist.  It always irritated you that you had to prepare yourself to strike Kiri when he was using his quirk.  Otherwise, you’d be in for a whole lot of hurt every time you landed a punch.

Teleportation is a pretty handy quirk.  It gives you a pretty good advantage the more you work on your close combat skills.  The trick with Kiri was to keep going at him until he ran out of energy.  You hadn’t gotten to that point yet; your quirk had its limits as well.  You were only two years out of UA, Kiri was out by seven.  His strength was already fairly unmatched; sparring with him was always good practice.  You relish the thought of the day you can win a sparring session without tapping out.  It surges through you like pure energy.  

You teleport to stand in front of him again, shifting your weight into your hips and up through your right hook.  This time your fist connects with Kiri’s side and he lets out a small grunt.  Your fingers don’t hurt so bad this time and by the time Kiri is retaliating, you jump back a few feet.  He hmms, a sound that reverberates from his chest.

“That’s all well and good but how do you expect to do anything if you jump that far away?”  He lunges forward at a running start, leaping at the last second, sending his gloved fist into your stomach.  You were fast, but still not always fast enough.  You double over, the air rushing from your lungs and your pre-workout protein smoothie threatening to exit back the way it went in.  Sweat is already beading on your brow and sliding under your tank top.  You take a few breaths through your nose when an idea pops into your head; you stay bent over.  “Hey, I didn’t hit you that hard.  You good?”  

Kiri comes to stand in front of you, leaving him vulnerable.  He can’t see your smirk until it’s too late.  You wail on him, using some of the basic combos he’s taught you before today.  Satisfaction rolls through you when he actually takes a step back.  But then he puts his arms up in front of him, clenching his abdomen and bending inward to protect his core.  He drops just a fraction and before you realize what’s happening, he’s swiping his leg out to push through yours.  You watch in slow motion as you see his laughing face then the ceiling of the gym as you flip and land on your back.

If you thought you were out of breath before…  “Fuuu-.”  It’s a wheeze that feels like it’s ripping your chest open.  You’re seeing stars.  Kiri stands over you, hands on his hips again.  You stare at his face; the hero has his hair pulled back into a bun.  You snort, rolling your eyes.  Why does he still look so fucking good?  The sweat has caused some of the pieces falling out of his hair tie to curl.  His hair has curl to it?  You’ve never noticed before, considering he always gels it into spikes.  You like the curl.  “Are you--are you gonna help me up, or what?”  It was still painful to talk.

Kiri tilts his head to the side, just slightly, and crosses his arms.  “I’m thinking not.  Last time I let down my guard you got those good combos in.”  You stare in stunned silence, sitting up so you’re supported by your elbows.  Kiri shifts slightly and if you didn’t know better, you’d say he’s backing up to… get a better view.   

“Is that any way to treat your student,  Red Riot?”  You know you get under his skin when he clicks his tongue against his teeth and holds out a hand with a begrudging eye roll.  He pulls you up with ease, quickly enough that you almost lose your balance, swaying into his space.  You look up, eyes moving back and forth between his.  

He draws in a breath and drags his bottom lip between his teeth.  “First of all,” he says as he places his hands on your upper arms, “I’m not your teacher.  I’m not that much older than you.  Secondly,” he mutters as he tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear, “our relationship isn’t that formal is it?”  He’s so fucking close.  This is getting dangerous.  Dangerous because Kiri is within kissing distance.  Dangerous because this gentle side of him is making you lose more breath than falling on your ass.  Dangerous because the thought of Kiri taking you on the floor right now is almost too much to bear.  

So you fall back on what you’re here to do.  Fight.  You flash him a wicked smile before rallying your quirk and teleporting a few feet away.  His hand is still raised in mid-air and when his head whips to look in your direction, his crimson eyes are narrowed and his nostrils are flared.  He laughs and rolls his neck, dancing on his toes.

“Okay.  I see.  I’m not gonna go easy on you, you know?”  You snort and put your fists up in front of you again.

“As if you were going easy on me before, Kiri.  Bring it on.”  He smiles, the sharp points of his teeth enough to make your thoughts swerve again before you bring them under control.  “Bring it on,” you whisper more to yourself as you brace for the fight.

Two hours later, you feel the strain in your muscles.  Your quirk is running low on reserves and you know you won’t be able to use it much more.  Kiri looks like he hasn’t wasted a breath but you can see he’s getting tired in the way his feet don’t move as sharply.  And if the length of time he’s using his quirk is any indication to his state of mind, you know the two of you will be calling it a day soon.  But you’re also both stubborn.  And you’re dying to get one more good move in on him.

The cockiness the two of you had at the beginning of the sparring session hasn’t gone away but has burned hot into determination.  No more smiles, only clear-headed concentration.  The two of you are an arm's length from each other, throwing various punches and switching quickly between using your quirks and not.  You’re breathing hard, sweat gathering at your brow as you throw another right hook that Kiri easily blocks.

“Get out of your head.  You can be too predictable sometimes.”  He doesn’t mean for it to come across as rude but the words strike a match to a guttering fire.  You bare your own teeth at Kiri even though they aren’t sharp and probably don’t look nearly as threatening but it helps you feel powerful nonetheless.  You drop without a second thought, lowering to your palms and sweeping your leg out in front of you in a wide arc.  A grin spreads across your face when your calf meets Kiri’s ankle.  He’s too physically dense for this move to work if he had seen it coming.  But he doesn’t.  And his solid 220 pounds of muscle falls hard.  

You allow yourself the satisfaction of the moment for only a split second; Kiri’s recovery time is much shorter than yours so it isn’t long before he’s scrambling forward.  He goes straight for your wrists to subdue you but with a smirk, you realize in his haste he’s put himself in the perfect position for you to possibly gain the upper hand.  You scoot up away from him just enough to drag his arm forward and swing your legs around his neck.  Then you elevate your hips and lock your core.

It’s over from there as you squeeze with every last ounce of strength left in your body.  It doesn’t take long for him to tap out.  You release as soon as you feel his loose hand tap your arm; he collapses over you and you’re too tired to move away or push him off.  Now his breathing is rough and you feel a surge of pride.  You reach up and place your hand on his head where his bun has come undone; he’s so heavy but it doesn’t feel bad.  In fact, the feel of Kirishima resting his head and upper chest on your stomach is feeling nothing short of good .  He’s still between your legs and suddenly the air is crackling with a new kind of energy when you gently comb your fingers through his hair.

He rises up, his hands on either side of you.  His hips rest between your legs; the mingled heat radiating from both of you is almost more than you can take but there is no way you’re going to move anywhere.  He leans forward, so close you can see the flecks of burnt orange in his eyes.  If you moved forward just a little, you could close that space between you.  He leans down more, his mouth right next to the shell of your ear.

“Maybe not always predictable.  You did good today.  Probably some of the best fighting I’ve seen from you so far.  Keep it up.”  He grunts, a shift of his hips allowing the curve of his cock to brush against your clothed sex through his gym shorts.  He stiffens in what you think might be embarrassment.  “Shit, sorry, let me just, uh--”  The stuttering mess he becomes right before your eyes makes something lurch in your chest; you reach for his face without thinking.

“Kiri,” you whisper, rolling your own hips against his.  His cheeks are burning a shade of red almost as vibrant as his hair.  You bring up your other hand, holding his face between them and bringing him down to settle over you once more.  Your lips meet his; he seems to war with himself for just a moment.  A suspended second in time.  But then he gives in, slipping his tongue against yours in a delicious sliding vision of what’s coming.

He reaches between you to slip his hand under your tank top; his hand is big and nearly encompasses your side.  But it’s warm and gentle.  Gentle.  Who would have guessed that Red Riot could be so fucking gentle?  But he is and when his hand moves lower to slide below the hem of your shorts, you give yourself to him with no reservations.  His middle finger passes through the mess of your sex; a hissed breath rattles through his chest as your back arches on a ragged groan.

“ Shit.  You’re so wet .”  He slides his finger back and forth, gathering your slick on the thick digit.  He takes his hand away and you mewl.  “Can I?”  He asks breathlessly as he hooks his hands on the hem of your shorts.  You nod, eyes half-lidded.  He pulls them down along with your underwear and the way he looks at you, at what’s between your legs, you don’t even have the wherewithal to feel self-conscious.  Adoration.  It’s the only word you can think of and it makes you wonder if you’d made a mistake waiting so long.

He’s on his knees when he takes your legs and drapes them on either side of his hips; this time he doesn’t hesitate in slipping his finger into your cunt.  You nearly see stars just from that and if one finger is any indication, you’re in for it.  Slowly, he adds another, his hand pumping into you in a steady rhythm.  You’re grabbing for the ground, grabbing for him as a strangled noise pushes from your throat.  He reaches out with his other hand to splay it across your sternum and it’s the only thing anchoring you as he adds the third finger before scooting down to put his mouth on your clit.

“ Kiri,” you keen, shoving your hips into his touch, frantically scrabbling for his wrist that’s on your chest just to have something to hold on to.  He’s done this before, he’s had to.  He’s too good.  Too fucking good.  Already there’s coiling in your gut as incomprehensible words tumble from your mouth.  “Shit.  Shit.  Kiri I’m--I’m gonna--”  He rumbles approvingly against your clit; the vibrations send you closer and closer to the edge and when it crests, your back arches near pain as you cry out, your voice echoing in the gym.  It’s deep, roaring through all of your limbs but  Kiri keeps going, fingers still pumping, tongue still swirling around your sensitive nub.

Another orgasm breaks over you sharp and quick and the overstimulation has your legs quaking as your arousal gushes over Kiri’s hand and tongue.  But then he’s moving again, and you’re blearily aware that he’s shoving his own shorts and boxers past his hips to free his cock.  You stare as it bounces back to sit near the planes of his stomach; it’s already leaking steadily with precum.  Kiri looks back at you and when your eyes meet, you dart your tongue out between your lips to wet them.  Another time, maybe.  

Kiri leans forward to lift you up and the closer you get you can barely see any red in his eyes; his pupils are blown, his nostrils flared as he lifts you like you weigh nothing .  He could snap you like a twig.  But he won’t.  You know without a doubt this is the safest you’ve ever felt, even as he lowers you slowly over his cock and it does feel like you’re being split .

“ Fuuuck…”  You wrap your legs around him, your mouth dropped open, your hands gripping his shoulders.  You try not to dig your nails in but it’s almost impossible with how you’re being filled.  You knew Kiri was big but this was almost too much.  His forehead drops to yours as he pants.  But he’s not moving, won’t move until you tell him to.  It makes your heart ache and your cunt floods, drunk on the affection thrumming through your veins.  You roll your hips experimentally and the friction is bliss.  “Oh fuck, ohfuck.”  You move again, pushing yourself up and back down, listening to the hitch in his breathing.  “ Kiri, please, ” you whisper.  Those words… they’re enough.

Kirishima grips you by the hips, his fingers splayed and digging into the flesh; it’ll leave bruises and the knowledge cracks through you like electricity.  Let him leave marks.  Let him leave them everywhere.  He’s moving you up and down his cock, grunting, mumbling.  “Tell me, Kiri, tell me.”  His eyes meet yours again and his own mouth drops open.

“Fuck, you’re so good.  S’ tight.  Jesus, I-- ” Kiri moves his hands from your hips to support you as he lays you down on the floor of the gym.  The idea should be questionable but it’s not, it’s fucking not and you can’t concentrate on any other thoughts when Kiri grabs your wrists and pins them gently above your head with one hand while the other comes back to your hip.  He thrusts into you at a brutal pace but… it feels like home and you think in that moment as your cunt begins to seize around his cock that you would give up forever to continue touching him.

“Yes, Kiri, yes.  Right there, right--shit yesyes yes. ”  He pistons up, the veins of his cock rubbing just right and when he releases the grip on your hands, they’re moving to wrap around him on instinct.  He’s planting kisses along your jaw, mouthing up to your lips and back down to graze his teeth over your pulse point.  “Do it, fuckin’ do it, let them know ‘m yours, ” you slur and when he bites down you crash over the edge on a groan that’s really more of a scream.  Everything goes black but you're cradling him to you as his movements become more erratic.  The snapping of his hips is getting sloppier by the second and a steady growl punches from his lungs with each breath.  “Cum, Kirishima, cum inside me.”

He’s never heard those words before and it lights a fire in his veins.  His head is buzzing and then he can’t hear anything as his cock releases and he’s spurting searing hot ropes of cum into your cunt.  He goes until you’ve milked every last drop from him and he’d be lying if he said his world didn't suddenly feel whole.  Finally, his body settles and his chest drops to yours.  Everything slowly bleeds back into focus and somehow, everything seems more colorful than it did moments before.  You’re still clinging to him.

“Kiri.  Kiri, babe, I can’t breathe,” you say and he slowly rises, taking in your blissed-out expression.  Your eyes can barely stay open, your cheeks are flushed.  He backs up to see his handiwork on display, hyper-focused on the trail of the mingling cum dripping from the mess of your sex.  But you’re smiling.  Lazy and tired, completely at ease.  “Wanna take a shower?”  When you nod he doesn’t hesitate in standing to kick his underwear and shorts the rest of the way off his legs and then he’s grabbing you, scooping you into his arms and against his chest.  He pads out of the gym and across the hall to his bathroom where he deposits you on your feet, only after he’s sure you can stand and only long enough to turn the shower head-on.

He puts his hand under the water, waiting for it to get warm.  Steam billows from behind the glass door when he’s turning back to you to remove your tank top and your sports bra.  Thank god you chose the front-closure one today; you didn’t think either one of you wanted to struggle to get one up over your head right now.  When your breasts spill out of the high-impact fabric, you notice with tender amusement that his cock is half-hard again.  His eyes go dark again and he leans in for a kiss.  But it's slow and sweet. 

"You're so fuckin' beautiful," he whispers.  He ignores his arousal, ushering you into the stream of water.  Your care is the only thing that matters to him right now.  The heat slides across your body, and when Kirishima steps up behind you and begins soaping up your shoulders, it feels like heaven .

You take turns washing each other until you’re both blissed out in a different kind of way and the only thing either one of you can think about is sleep.  But the afterglow is fading and doubt is creeping in.  When you step out of the water, you stand awkwardly as Kiri hands you a towel.  “You okay?”  He’s actually concerned and you can’t put your finger on why you’re so fucking grateful for it.

“Yea, just tired.  I should, uh, probably get going.”  Kiri freezes and you think you’ve said something wrong, already crossed a line.  Your brain is like a broken record as the stomach-curdling image of having to see him at the agency flashes across your eyes in vivid detail.  But then he’s stepping into your space and pulling you in for a hug.  A hug.

“Don’t go,” he whispers into the crown of your head and it has you smiling like an idiot against his chest.  His skin smells clean and warm with a hint of spice.  You bury your face further in as you nod against him.  Then he’s leading you to his room, to the king-sized bed.  He peels back the comforter and the white sheets and pulls you in beside him.  Your back is against him and he hooks his foot around your ankles, bringing you even closer.  

He doesn’t say anything more, just lets out a huge sigh as he wraps his arm around you.  The last thing you notice before your eyes flutter shut is how your heartbeats are thumping at the same steady rhythm.  

Late afternoon sunlight slants in Kirishima’s bedroom window, creating interesting patterns across his blanket.  It’s pushed towards the end of the bed, your legs intertwined and tangled in the sheets.  He’s still dozing, his breathing not quite that of someone sleeping but not of a person fully awake.  You reach out to cup his cheek, stroke above his eyebrows, caress his lips with your thumb.  A contented sigh leaves his chest as he grabs your hand and kisses your wrist.  His eyes are open now and he watches you.  You smile at him, snuggling closer, not wanting the moment to end.

“Hey,” he says quietly, suddenly serious.  “I just want you to know, I don’t do this all the time.  I mean, I’ve been with other people before but I don’t…  I don’t really hook up .”  Things start clicking into place as you realize what he’s trying to get across.  He just fucked you stupid in his personal gym and somehow he looks bashful.  And because you love it, you’re not going to help him along.  You just watch, biting your lip to keep from giggling.  “I just.  I guess what I’m trying to say is I like you.  I’ve liked you for a long time.  And normally I would have wined and dined you first but...  Well.  Here we are.  Would you like to stay for dinner?”

That’s the last straw; your laughter comes bubbling out of you and Kiri is leaning back to look at you with a quizzical expression on his face.  “Is something funny?”  That just makes you laugh a little harder but the confused look he’s wearing has you leaning in to press your lips against his.

“I’ve liked you from the first day I met you, Kiri.  I’ll one-up your offer and tell you that I might like to stay forever.”  A grin rips across his face and your heart blooms with warmth and affection.  The world seems full of possibilities but none of them matter except for the possibility laying right in front of you.

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima eijiro #kirishima eijirou #pro hero kirishima #red riot #kirishima smut #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #kaitsuki writes #oh my god i had such brain block #writing this one #because i get too in my head writing smut #BUT i hope everyone still enjoys #we stan kiri in this house

[vivithefolle]

Can I join your anti-Hermione club? Is there an application form? (In all seriousness, I'm so glad there's someone on Tumblr who is anti-Hermione for good reasons. It drives me absolutely insane how much the fandom worships her. I respect her intelligence, but there are so many absurdly unethical things she does. The hexing of Marietta Edgecombe - I researched it, it's both against contract law and would almost certainly be considered assault - was crazy, and even crazier was that it's excused.)

Hahaha, no application form needed, just a lot of bitterness and a touch of rage.

Something that really annoys me is how people are trying to tell me I'm doing Hermione-bashing when I give her the what-for. Or try to say "but she was a teenager :(". Really, freaking really? So when Hermione scars people on the face she's being a teenager but when Ron is pissy for a night in fourth year he's a total asshole? No, nope, not gonna let that lie.

My issue is that Ron's mistakes are teenager-sized; making an ass of yourself during a soirée, dating someone you're not really interested in because you're flattered by the attention, getting mad at your friend over silly stuff, saying stupid things without thinking... teenage mistakes. Those are teenage mistakes. (Something could be said of his leaving on the Horcrux Hunt but. Bitches. Voldemort himself (a part of him at least) was there singling him out for torture. Not to mention the heavy blood loss, the fact that his family's in danger, etcetera... But of course nobody is willing to accept those circumstances, nooo, it's only Ron who's the sole responsible for leaving absolutely, right, "Hermione is a teenager :(" and "Harry has PTSD :(((" but Ron isn't allowed to have problems of course. Fucking hypocrites.)

Meanwhile Hermione wakes up everyday and chooses violence and not for good reasons. I mean when your first reflex to distract someone is to set them on fire surely that indicates some issues? (Later on she forgets that she can use magic to light a fire... against a plant. I mean. How. How do you come to the conclusion that you should light a person on fire to "distract" them but cannot apply that reasoning to a goddamn killer plant.) The thing is people just... because we're constantly told that Hermione is intelligent/has good grades/works hard, people are quick to assume that she's obviously the most mature one in the room. But being a hard worker isn't necessarily a "proof" of maturity. It's just that people's expectations are that "a studious kid" is a mature kid, but really what they mean by "mature" is "doesn't annoy me to hell and back by playing noisily".

There’s this huge manipulation that plays on people’s expectations: being coded as “the studious girl” people are told through stereotypes that Hermione is smart, mature and logical… and the text is quick to try to reinforce the idea by having her spout definitions (=”smart”, for a degree of it; it’s mostly good memory), scold others for being rowdy (=mature, except that she’s not above it all either and a big part of maturity also involves REALIZING YOUR ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES which, Hermione’s don’t, so oops) and have her solve some puzzles or explain things (=logical… but sometimes her reasoning is based on emotion and she just tries to find evidence to justify why she thinks it’s right, rather than go from one thing to another).

When people try to brush off the fucked-up things Hermione did with "well she was a teenager" or "it was the war effort"... no. Fuck no. She didn't have to wipe her parents' minds and memories, there was the Order, the Dursleys were treated better than Hermione's parents for God's sake. But the only thing that matters about Hermione's parents is that they can be conveniently sacrificed to let us know how brave their daughter is right, it's not like she's in anything called the House of the Brave or something, it's not like she's constantly being thrown in mortal danger and is scared but keeps pushing forward, no we absolutely HAD to have a plot point that involves Hermione destroying two people's identities so we know how brave she is (how was any of it brave? Bravery is risking yourself, not the life of two innocents who barely know what's going on and are in no position to fight back).

And with the Romione fandom trying to push back to "nooo but she was a teenager m'kay she had her reasons for everything"... You want to get back to the Dark Ages where Hermione can do anything to Ron and it's his fault for not being perfect enough for her? Because that's how you go back to the Dark Ages.

In concept I love Romione. In the books I love it till about Book 3 (and even then that's pushing it because Hermione's utter disregard for Ron's pet sits very unwell with me, BUT okay fine she's still a child, it's her first pet, she has no idea how to own a pet and she's not used to being mindful of others' feelings. Then she gets validated by the plot because Scabbers was Pettigrew and somehow that means Hermione wasn't horribly callous to Ron's feelings or anything... meanwhile had it been Ron buying Crookshanks and Scabbers being Hermione's pet everyone would have been like "but who cares that Ron was right in the end, do you see how horribly he hurt poor Hermione's feelings!!!"...

It's just. No more excuses. Hermione is fucked-up. As a person, not just because of the war. She had a vicious, vindictive streak that only got enabled through the books because she never was called out on it. And I mean, I'm all for standing up for yourself, or for slapping Draco Malfoy's bitchy ass ferret face. But fuck. When you're doing the magic equivalent of an acid attack on someone's face, when you're physically abusing someone you're supposed to love AND THREATEN TO DO IT AGAIN AS IF IT WAS SOMETHING CUTE OR QUIRKY, when you're brainwashing your own parents into compliance because you can't be bothered to lie to them or make the Order get them... You know how many fics I've seen that take the "I did actually Confund my examiner" exchange from the Epilogue and run away with it to make it so Ron gets in a horrible car accident or invent entire collapses of the Statute of Secrecy as a result of an investigation connected to this "ha ha look it's funny Ron cheated on his exam" moment? Why don't I ever see a fic talking about how Hermione erasing her parents from existence leads to the destruction of Wizarding society through the legal bullshit that follows? Because Hermione dear, did you think to alter "Wendell" and "Monica"'s birth certificates? Their marriage contract? Their VISAs? Their bank accounts? Otherwise you've just turned your parents into homeless vagrants hopelessly lost in Australia who can't ever find a home anywhere because they simply don't exist in the eyes of any government. But hey nobody ever thinks of that because it's so much easier to nitpick everything Ron does. The only thing folks notice about Hermione nowaday is Emma Watson's boobies.

... I'm sorry, I just... Ugh. People.

#vivi answers #ask #hermione granger #hermione granger critical #hermione critical #ron weasley #ron weasley defence squad #ron weasley defense squad #harry potter #harry potter series #hp fandom #hp meta

[sepublic]

            Amity’s little kiss and declaration that Luz always manages to sneak her way into people’s hearts… It hits SO hard and makes my soul utterly melt;

         But at the same time, I really hope Luz doesn’t like. Take this as validation/reinforcement for her self-destructive behavior, earlier that episode. It’s very kind of Luz, but it’s also obvious that she overtly hates and blames herself for Amity losing her job, except…

         Luz made it openly clear that Amity had no obligation to enter the Forbidden Stacks for her, and was even about to leave when Amity insisted on breaking the rules for Luz! And obviously Luz DID mess it up by yelling in frustration, but… Let’s be real, it was a suspenseful moment for a revelation with a lot of build-up, and Luz’s way back home, to her mother Camila, was destroyed- Anyone would be angry!

         It’s good that Luz doesn’t focus on nor wallow in self-pity when Amity loses her job, but… I’m afraid she’s going too far in the other direction, where she’s afraid to let herself feel anything about what happened, because Luz doesn’t think her feelings matter, she’s entirely to blame, and the ONLY thing she’s good for is fixing problems and helping people!

         I’m concerned that Luz will see the kiss and affection as a ‘reward’ for basically putting all of her needs and safety aside, for single-handedly shouldering that burden without hesitation, without support; Because from her perspective, Luz thinks that Amity wants nothing to do with her, because Luz makes Amity do ‘stupid things’…

         So Luz tries to make up for things by getting Amity her job back from Malphas, clearly putting herself in physical danger for it- And when she comes back to Blight Manor to return the employee ID card, Luz seems fully under the impression, and is completely prepared, for this to be the last time her and Amity interact on a positive basis, as friends, before Amity just dumps her! To Luz, she’s just providing closure and wrapping up affairs for their friendship that has died.

         But seeing Amity’s reaction, seeing Luz get completely distracted by her hair… And then Luz gets the validation and reward with a KISS, and then actually gets to use Philip’s journal after all! She was rewarded today, in so many ways… But I hope Luz understands that she’s loved not for her self-sacrificial nature, but because she’s just a good and understanding friend! I hope she doesn’t get the wrong message from this.

         Still, I like to think that… The kiss and the Echo Mouse gave Luz hope. The Echo Mouse gave hope that she CAN still make it back home… And the kiss gave hope that Luz really is lovable, that her relationship with Amity can persist and then become something even MORE… And I just really want to see this kiss change Luz for the better, and help bolster her self-esteem from here on out!

         I was genuinely terrified for Luz when she broke from Amity’s declaration that she does ‘stupid things’ around her, like Luz thought this meant she was stupid and Amity regretted being around her- When no, Amity only regretted doing stupid things around Luz, but not Luz herself! If anything, Amity is apologizing for herself to Luz, and she thinks it shouldn’t be the other way around. And it’s sad that Amity also has this perception of self-loathing and inadequacy, but…

         That helps make Lumity really special- It’s that these girls both understand what it’s like, they’ve both gone through that perception that they’re bad people who don’t deserve better, that their feelings and sadness don’t matter- That they have to actively atone and make up for who they are, people only love them conditionally if they continue to be helpful and do nice things for them;

         But then through each other, they show that this is very much NOT the case, that hey! You ARE a good person, and you ARE worthy of love! You deserve it, and you don’t have to prove anything! And that they both so deeply and intimately understand this pain and insecurity and loneliness, and have helped each other navigate out of it, Luz really IS the light in Amity’s dark life, guiding her…

         It’s just GOOD, okay?! Two broken souls, peering into one another and seeing their own reflection, to find out they actually AREN’T broken at all?! That close and emotional solidarity, so they fully understand and don’t judge the other’s doubt, they can recognize it, and they know exactly what to say to help them through… They KNOW each other, they feel the other, they ARE each other!

        The way they’re the same person to each other- Amity is so flustered around Luz, and vice-versa! Luz can dish out so much love and kisses and hugs, but the moment she receives just a tiny bit of affection from someone else, and she just melts and her brain short-circuits!

#the owl house #lumity #the owl house luz #luz noceda #the owl house amity #amity blight #character analysis #meta

[bbq-hawks-wings]

The narrative is not saying Hawks should feel guilty for his parents not wanting a relationship with him.

A concern that started back in 299 but really came to light in 303 is that the story may be trying to infer Hawks should feel bad for not pursuing a relationship with his parents. I completely understand where this concern comes from, but I also don't think that's what's happening here; and once again, I have the perfect disaster that is the Todoroki family to help me explain it.

Horikoshi's writing has been praised for the Todoroki plotline in particular for its portrayals of abuse, neglect, trauma, and broken family dynamics - and in particular how each member of the family has a different response to the traumatic events in their history. May I posit the idea that Hawks and his family is just an extension of that same concept?

While the Todoroki Family is able on some level to put itself back together, even if not completely, and move on in a positive direction. The Takami family is one that didn't mend, didn't heal, will never come back together.

Where Enji, even if decades later, is able to face what his self-centered behavior has done to his family; Thief Takami met the end of his relevance to the story as he tried to run away for good.

Rei owns her responsibility for the nightmare of the household and the scars she inflicted on her children without hesitation - giving validation to the feelings of her children and credit to them for being the ones who allow her to remain in their lives; Tomie was never able to own up to her actions and how she abandoned her son - even refusing to look him in the eye and literally ran away rather than face anything he might have to say about the way she treated him and how she was absent.

Each of the Todoroki children get to choose their response to a parent who's repentant of their behavior and allows them to be in control of the relationship moving forward - Dabi seeks to hurt them back, Fuyumi seeks to forgive and forget, Natsuo wants nothing to do with his father and put the past behind him, and Shouto won't let his father forget what he's done but will let him start over and prove himself with time. Hawks doesn't get parents that want a relationship with him, and he just has to accept that he won't ever get that healthy family dynamic from them, even if he wanted it, and move on with his life.

Natsuo is the important linchpin in this reasoning for me, because if there's one person who is single-handedly proving Endeavor's redemption is about atonement and not forgiveness - it's Natsuo.

Not every panel and stylistic imagery choice in the manga is meant to be taken as objective reality. We saw this in the confrontation between Hawks and Twice. The scary, shadowy way that Hawks was drawn was not objective reality but the way Twice was seeing him.

Some imagery and themes surrounding Natuso and Endeavor have been consistent, no matter who's perspective we're seeing.

In order, these depictions of Endeavor's abuse are from Rei's perspective, the entire Family's perspective, and finally his own as he recounts what he did. Absolutely nothing about what he did is meant to be taken as subjective. Horikoshi will not let us get away with thinking what he did was anything less that the horror that is was.

Which is why as everyone recounts their memories in that hospital room in chapter 302, Natsuo's is the only one not accompanied by supplemental imagery when even Fuyumi has some in her panel. Natsuo's statement doesn't need expounding; he's just right.

And his feelings have been acknowledged and validated in being that the only reason Natsuo even comes to these family meetings is to support his family. His father is the bad guy - the villain - in his story, but he's willing to acknowledge that he isn't the bad guy in everyone's story. For this he's praised as being selfless and kind - not to Endeavor, but to his loved ones. This happens not once:

But twice! Natsuo is acknowledged in the narrative as having major objections to having anything to do with his old man, but is also acknowledged that in choosing enduring it even in the face of the anger and distress it causes him makes him selfless and caring of his his loved ones who have chosen to stand by Endeavor - and even in this second instance it's acknowledged that he's supporting his dad only because people need the Hero Endeavor and his family behind him.

While the issue was still just their family, Natsuo's boundaries were respected by Endeavor, the rest of the family, and ultimately the narrative; and these boundaries will once again be reinforced when the situation blows over.

So riddle me this: if Natsuo is allowed to hate and abandon his father who is repentant and does want a relationship with him, I don't understand how the same story is turning around and condemning Hawks for simply letting them go when he acknowledges he didn't even get the same opportunity?

I really think the order of his thoughts matter.

"I didn't get to confront my parents. They're gone."

"So I left them there behind me and moved on."

More than likely Hawks has some choice words for his genetic donors if he got the chance considering he praises Shouto for taking steps that are tremendously difficult for a child in those circumstances to do - especially towards his father who Hawks now knows is guilty of some major sins of which his family has zero obligation to forgive. He recognizes that Shouto's parents placed the power to redeem or destroy their relationships with him into his hands, and instead of cutting them off as was his right, he reached back out and met them halfway.

Yeah, man, that makes you a pretty cool dude.

In conclusion: I think Hawks is just another example of how this kind of family dynamic could go wrong and how sometimes the child just has accept what they can't control and move on, even if he wishes he could get closure. We can't always get that, and so in another way he's painted as being strong for doing that emotional heavy lifting alone without the promise of closure and not let it consume his life.

#she speaks #let's talk Hawks #bnha meta

[laurore-stormwitch]

of almost failed heists and romantic advice

For the @grishaversebigbang mini bang! First time writing the crows, it’s been a challenge. I had the incredible and emotional honor to see some beautiful art made for this fic by @streckenweise-okay [here] , @j-wirth [here], @davonysus [here]. You are all talented and amazing <3  Summary: an easy undercover job becomes not only a chance to revisit some old friendships with Nina back in town, but also the perfect occasion for a romantic intervention and some dating advice for our favorite Bastard of the Barrel.

ao3 link

Kaz Brekker, the Bastard of the Barrel, a forgotten Rietveld. His figure hid itself in the many names he had been called, in the many tales of sorrow he had inflicted. He did not need a reason, nor to rob or brake, nor to wreak havoc on the filthy streets of Ketterdam. Swift as the sky-splitting dive of a crow on his prey. You would feel him coming, in the tense silence shattered by the rhythmic beating of a raptor-headed cane on bricks. Kaz Brekker, who did not need a reason, or concealed the ones who mattered. The same Kaz Brekker, however, who did not have a valid reason for choosing to bring the three biggest headaches of his life along with him on this wretched job. A sharpshooter with an absurd taste in fashion, a Grisha witch as annoying as his broken leg and a wayward merchant’s son he had spent way too much time babysitting. 

A strike of genius on his part. On top of that, he had chosen an undercover job, like they had the slightest ability not be noticed. Except for Nina; that girl blended everywhere like whisky. She was now strolling back to them with an excited gleam in her eyes, sipping on a glass of wine. She giggled happily. “Relax, Kaz. It’s a party.” 

He cut her a glare from the corner in which he was standing, stiff and broody. 

“Where the hell are the two lovebirds?” 

“At the buffet. Do you know they have a chocolate fountain?”

“If it doesn’t drop gold”, Nina arched a brow at him, “I am fairly sure I don’t care for it.”

They were interrupted by the brilliant flash of color of Jesper’s suit and his brazen laugh. He had an arm thrown around Wylan’s shoulder; the merchling’s  cheeks were flushed and his hair ruffled. He seemed slightly uncomfortable or about to throw up. For all the kruges, how much had Jesper let him drink? At least they did not have a particularly difficult role to play. Nina planted a kiss on Wylan’s cheek.

“This is so fun!”, she exclaimed, delighted by the situation. Kaz glared at her again.

“A job it’s not supposed to be fun.”

“Take your brooding mood out the window, Brekker”, Nina waved a dismissive hand at him. “What would a job be without fun?”

“Terribly dull”, Jesper winked.

“Annoyingly painful”, offered Wylan with a hiccup. They turned to Kaz. 

“Adequately profitable.”

His friends cast their eyes heavenward. Jesper snatched other glasses , pretending not to see Kaz’s threatening look. The party was grand, held in the home of a Council’s member from whom they were supposed to steal some documents held in a safe in his study. The job was easy to say the least, so when they had learned that Nina was in town, she had tagged along. Kaz wanted to wack himself on the head with his cane for this wretched idea; apparently, they had taken this as an excuse to party and reminisce old times more than an occasion to actually help Kaz make some money. Nina surveyed the room. 

“I wish Inej was here”, she whined. Kaz had never been one to pray, so it was not surprised when the Saints ignored his pledge to make Nina drop the argument. Instad, she turned to him with a smug smirk. 

“How is it going between the two of you?”

Kaz tapped his cane on the floor, avoiding the heartrender’s eyes. Maybe she would shut up if he ignored her. Was he not radiating a general air of murderousness and danger, enough to convince his nosy friend to leave him be? Well, not enough. It just made her do something even worse and refer to the other two headaches.

“Kaz is a hopeless cause.”

“He’s not asked her out yet? Not even a romantic snack in between threatening people and skewering them with knives?”

Jesper shrugged his shoulder, nudging Wylan closer. “We offered to do it for him”, he noted.

“You did”, Wylan peered at thim. “I want to keep my head on my neck.”

“Why hasn’t he?”, asked Nina, considering Kaz, still ignoring them.

“I don’t think he’s familiar with the concept of asking someone out. Or even asking someone for anything, mainly bossing people around.”

Kaz adjusted his tie. “I’m standing right beside you.”

“It’s not hard, Kaz. Just buy some flowers and smile.”

Jesper laughed at Nina’s idiotic advice. Were they actually trying to get assassinated right now? Another thought paved the way in his mind. Was it an idiotic advice, though? He could admit that anything not involving schemes or robbery was not an area of expertise for him. And he had been meaning to do something...nice?

“You’re asking Dirtyhands to smile?”, asked Jesper. Nina huffed.

“Can it be that hard?”

“You’ll see. Kaz, smile at me.” 

Kaz had two roads in front of him: for some reason, he chose the insane one and indulged Jesper, curling his lips upward. An uncomfortable silence dawned over them. 

“All the Saints and their suffering”, Nina exclaimed.

“Is he about to murder someone?”, Wylan asked. Nina burst out laughing.

“That is your i-am-asking-you-out smile?”

“It’s terrifying”, considered the merchling.

“Positively daunting”, his boyfriend confirmed.

“For the love of Inej’s Saints drop the smile. Stick with the flowers.” She eyed him from upside down, critical. “And fix that dreadful hair.”

Now the choice laid between leaving them all here or trying to find a way to finish this wretched job. Since the second option included a mouthful reward, he went with it. He eyed the owner descending the stairs with his guards. That was their cue. 

“You all know what to do.”

To their credit, they all snapped to attention when he called them. Nina strode behind the owner, fluffing her hair, while the three of them disappeared silently toward the upper floor. Silently. As silently as they could, Wylan being half drunk and Jesper being...well, Jesper. What one does for some kruge, thought sourly Kaz. He did glance at his reflection in the mirror, trying a half smile as they ascended the stairs. But no one needed to know that. 

***

The safe had scarcely even been fun to crack. Kaz slipped the document in his jacket, scanning the study. Who knows what one could find that people left unguarded. Jesper and Wylan were outside, keeping control on the stairs. The situation seemed under control, so he did have some spare time to search for something precious. He approached a drawer, flicked a pin in the keylock and - 

BOOM

A loud explosion resonated on the floor, rattling the walls. Definitely not a good sign. And definitely a sign that his henchmen raised some hell. Kaz sprinted out, only to find an absolute mayhem had been unleashed, and at the centre of this chaos, sure enough, stood his two royally idiotic friends, covered in dirt and pieces of furniture, gazing at each other with utter shock on their faces like they hadn’t just made a smoke bomb explode. The one that was supposed to be an emergency to cover their escape and was now invading the house. 

“What the hell did you do?!”

Screams rose below them; Jesper scratched some dust from his jacket and rolled his revolvers out, grinning in Wylan’s direction, apparently unfazed by how much they had just screwed up. 

“Wylan got carried away”, he shrugged his shoulders. Wylan flushed violently, jaw dropped in his boyfriend’s direction.

“You pushed me against a wall! I told you I had the smoke bomb in my pocket!”

“Were they making out again on the job?”, Nina rushed in their direction, her gorgeous face lit up with amusement as she struck down one of the guards running up the stairs with a flick of her wrist, a dart bone flying out of her cuff. 

“It’s Jesper’s fault! He’s always trying to...to…”, Jesper arched a brow at Wylan. 

“Yes?”

“Entice me!”

Kaz blew out an exasperated grunt, pushing them toward the background door. “Move!”, he seethed, running to work the lock. Dirtyhands getting killed on a saints forsaken robbery, perfect irony. With a quick look, he realized the damn lock had been reinforced with Fabrikator’s craft. He signaled Jesper, who practically squealed with amusement. 

“Do I get to use my powers?” The hard glare he earned from Kaz seemed to be enough for him to get on with his work. Nina turned, shooting other dart bones toward the stairs. Quick steps and screams were echoing through the buildings, and smoke was clearing. “You might wanna hurry up, Jes!”, she shouted over her shoulder. 

“We might have a problem”, the sharpshooter mumbled, as the lock literally melted on itself, effectively sealing the door closed. “I’m still getting the hold on - “

He was interrupted by another deafening explosion, as Wylan threw another device which detonated on the wooden stairs shredding them into pieces. 

“Do you all have to keep destroying our ways out?!”

“I’m sorry!”, screamed Wylan over the echoing thrum of the bomb, his gaze shifting to a window that opened up to the roof. 

“Do not even think about it”, Kaz pointed his cane at him. 

“Either we take a page from Inej’s book or we get arrested, what do you choose?”, Nina asked grudgingly, starting to climb on a cupboard. Saints, he was going to kill them all. Jesper and Wylan followed suit, making their way out on the roof and helping Kaz up. He shot a murderous look at Nina, who was eyeing him as he not at all gracefully moved up and shut the window closed behind him, swearing to every known Saints in Kerch.

“Since you are so bad at this, you should try to compliment Inej about it and maybe she’ll teach you something.” 

“Start fleeing before I catch you, Zenik.”

Shots began firing from below them, grazing Kaz’s arm. Nina erupted in a grin. 

“Time to run, Brekker.”

And so they did. Extremely far from how Inej would have done it. Loudly, stumbling throughout Ketterdam’s rooftops, helping each other - as much as he hated to admit it, mostly Kaz - on the slippery tiles and the narrow eaves. Ketterdam buildings left little space to breathe, being conveniently close that they could jump from one to the other. Kaz lost track of time, though his bad leg felt like they’ve been running for hours. Jesper stopped abruptly as they neared the docks, crunching on his knees and howling a breathless laugh. 

“That was fun.”

Nina giggled, slouching on the rooftop they had stopped on. “Ease up boys, we lost them ages ago”, she exhaled, closing her eyes toward the moonlight and leaning back. Kaz tentatively seated himself behind her, stretching his leg. 

“If this easy job ends up with me not being able to walk, vengeance will be coming.” 

Wylan and Jesper slumped down on his side, ignoring his dreadful look. Wylan peered at Kaz with a sly smile. 

“Jesper has stolen something fit to celebrate a successful heist.” 

The sharpshooter grinned, pulling out a bottle of cherry wine from nowhere and uncorking it with a whistle of joy. He passed it around as their cheerful chatter filled the night’s quiet. They were crazy. Crazy, reckless, and still idiots. Yet, Kaz couldn’t help but feel a little proud of his ragtag band of misfits. So he did not protest when Jesper handed him the wine, and he even threw a crooked half smile at him. The night began to wear off with every sip.

“So”, started Jesper at some point, snatching the bottle from him, “about our advice?”

It had to be the wine for Kaz to answer this. “I guess I can try it.”

Wylan huffed and gave him a knowing look.  “Just be yourself, Kaz. Inej likes you like that.”

“Ever the romantic”, Jesper winked at him, making him flush. Again. 

“Aside from that”, Nina propped herself up, turning to him, her lips quirked and her face lit up with happiness, cheeks red from the wine. “I still suggest the flowers. You know her favourites. And you might want to get ahead with those, Brekker'', she added, pointing her finger toward the horizon; over Ketterdam’s rooftops, the moonlight shone on the silent streets, reflecting on the waves that hit the docks. There, against the sky lit up by stars, stood the profile of a sharp ship, a flag Kaz knew by heart flying over the mast, its edges turning his stomach upside down as it entered the harbour. 

“Our Wraith is coming home.”

#gvbb21 #gvbbminibang21 #gang28 #the crows #first time writing them so im terrified #kanej #kaz brekker #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #nina zenik #heists gone bad #sort of crack fic #check out my artists because they're amazing and i'm stunned by the talent #six of crows #post crooked kingdom #grishaverse #fan fiction #wesper

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: Hello mbti-notes, How do you do? Hope you're having a good time in your vacation!

I'm a 25F (unhealthy, level 1) INFJ, and my mother (late 40s) is ISFJ. I- have some issues myself and it's affecting my relationships. I currently stay away from socializing and bottling up my issues and problems. If it gets bad I cry alone in the bathroom dealing with mixed feelings of love and resentment.

I don't know how to start but I recently realized my mother has toxic traits and this causes some inner conflict. I understand she has went through a lot in life (so did my dad, still typing him)...but I want her to realize she too is flawed, not just us. There are various times she hurt me with words and during some of those incidents, we end up fighting and I say things in anger that hurt her. She believes she is never in the wrong and adapts the victim mentality. Whenever I try to reason with her, she doesn't admit her faults and immediately brings up things I did in the past. She actually repeats whatever we say in a taunting manner out of spite. As I write this, I am realizing this sounds ridiculous.

While growing up, she hated me being close to my dad and manipulated me using the victim mentality, so she succeeded in making me dislike my father in childhood. One time when we fought, I told her, "now I understand why dad doesn't bother to clear up things with you! You never listen and twist words!" She took this as betrayal and thinks I'm completely on dad's side, who hurt her. I did not dismiss her pain. I want her to understand all of us are messed up and we need to work on ourselves and fix things.

I fear that as she grows old, she'll grow more stubborn and become narcissistic. I fear that I would become like her in the future after getting married and act like her to my children and spouse in the future. My parents themselves are unhealthy due to having grown up in unhealthy and toxic environments themselves, and their parents were bounded by toxic traditions like patriarchal misogynistic practices. I am afraid of this cycle continuing, the cycle of unhealthy parents hurting their children and they grow up like that too. What should I do? How do I make my parents realize we all need help and need to improve ourselves?

I know first and foremost I should be improving myself, but I am also worried about them. I am not saying I am perfect, I also have some toxic traits but I watch myself when interacting with others. There are so many I's and reeks of narcissism, need to stop that. Also realized that I'm probably having a problem with my parent's toxic traits, maybe it's my high standards not letting me accept these flaws. They took great pains to raise me and my sibling, but it also hurts me to see them like this, I just want them to be happy and be in harmony. Apologies for this rambling, it's hard to put them in order since English is not my first language.

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

The main problem is that neither you nor your mom is capable of healthy relationship boundaries. When two people don't set, respect, and enforce proper boundaries, they easily end up in a vicious cycle of conflict, even when they love each other. Why? In a close relationship, two people know exactly what buttons to push and how to bait each other into conflict. Why bait each other into conflict? When there is a serious underlying problem and/or traumatic wounding in the relationship that remains unresolved, the two parties will rehash the problem or replay the trauma over and over again, in an unconscious attempt to achieve resolution or feel a sense of closure.

Unfortunately, resolution or closure rarely happens, because during the conflict, the pain is never truly heard or addressed. The cycle of conflict then gradually escalates, as both parties get more aggressive in wanting to be heard and validated. Each person uses the conflict to act out their unresolved ego dramas and traumas. You both claim to be victims and you use each other to reinforce the victim narrative. While it might be true that you are both victims in some form, it is unproductive to keep accusing each other of being the enemy or victimizer. Nobody will ever "win" this conflict because nobody is really listening to the pain that is being expressed. The blame game destroys the good will required to reach mutual understanding.

A repetitive cycle of conflict continues because BOTH parties are putting energy into it and perpetuating it. Oftentimes, one major contributing factor to the original problem/trauma was poor communication skills or hurtful communication habits. Until at least one of the two parties improves their ability to listen and communicate maturely, there is nothing to stop the cycle of conflict, short of severing the relationship for good.

Your mom has "toxic traits" that created a toxic environment for you growing up. You acknowledge that you have similarly toxic traits and want to address them. Good. You're an adult now. An important part of growing up is becoming independent and taking personal responsibility for the trajectory of your life. You make the decisions as an adult, so your problems are in your hands. Her problems are hers to handle. Your process of healing should not require anything from your mom or even blaming your mom.

The fact that you want her to admit fault, accompany you, or work on herself means that you are violating her boundary. You want her to change, when she isn't ready or doesn't want to. You use criticism to pressure her and that causes her pain. Her maltreatment of you during conflict is an expression of the pain that you're causing her. Similarly, the way that you mistreat her is the manifestation of the pain she has caused you in the past. The longer the pain remains unresolved, the more likely it is that the hurt turns into anger, then rage, then spite...

You don't like the ways in which she tries to manipulate you to be who/what she wants you to be. That's fair. But you're not fully recognizing that you're doing the same thing to her. You're essentially saying that you won't be able to grow up and move on with your life until she becomes the mom that you want her to be. In a way, you're holding the both of you hostage. It doesn't matter if you believe that you're being altruistic and it's "for her own good" - she believes exactly the same thing when she tries to change you. Trying to change her, against her will, amounts to an attack on her being. If you're not able to love someone as they are, you're in no position to help them. If you're not able to communicate with someone without causing hurt to yourself or them, you're in no position to help them. "Helping" is about supporting people in their efforts, not about constantly pressuring them to live up to your standards.

You are too emotionally entangled with her. You want her validation, her support, her empathy, her cooperation, her confession, her atonement, etc. It sounds like none of that is forthcoming, nor is it even necessary. As long as you can't face the reality of who your mom is and keep expecting her to be different, YOU are choosing to keep yourself tied to her and her toxic ways. Yes, everyone needs social support in life, but as an adult, you should no longer need a "mom".

To become independent, you need to draw your own personal boundary in life and work within it to heal your personality problems. When you become a capable boundary setter and carve out your own space in the world, you know to rest and recuperate within its bounds and you know to keep people out when they don't respect its bounds. If you need help or support with your healing, she is obviously not the right choice, is she? She is not capable of entering your boundary without the conflict arising again, is she? There's nothing wrong with needing help/support, but you are not going to find much success by seeking it from the least qualified of sources.

Children aren't born knowing how to conduct healthy and mature relationships, so they can't be expected to understand boundaries when no one taught them. However, as an adult, it is your responsibility to address that knowledge deficit, if you hope to break past patterns and have healthy relationships. Do you understand what a boundary is, how to set one, and how to enforce one? It's about respecting your own being, respecting the being of others, and learning how to mingle with people without allowing hurt or violation. I suggest that you work with a therapist who specializes in relationships and boundary setting. Judging by the nature of your disagreements with her, you need to work on your communication skills and conflict resolution skills too. See the related tags and book suggestions on the resources page.

#parent child relationship #infj relationships #relationships #boundaries #independence #conflict #ask

[streets-in-paradise]

Royal Treatment

 Troy (2004) Reader Insert Fanfiction - Part 10 

Word Count:  + 9 K

Characters ( most mentioned) : Achilles, Mycenaean Princess!Reader, Helen, Patroclus, Ajax, Agamemnon, Menelaus. 

Pairings: Achilles x Mycenaean Princess!Reader.

Warnings:  Very light smutty undertones.

Summary: Since her last private encounter with Achilles left her with more doubts than certainties, the princess keeps trying to obtain a clear answer from him. During the celebrations, she comes up with an idea to test his interest. 

Disclaimers: This was inspired by a mix of greek music ,various drum solos and improvisations of greek folk that I found on youtube and some mediterranean, egyptian and turkish music I have been listening to. Also, I want to apologise if part of this sucks. i’m still learning how to write some stuff and I don't know if this is as good as it was in my head when i pictured it. 

Note: My use of the name Alexander here is only a reference. I know that’s how Paris was called in some versions of the myths and I’m only playing word games with that. 

Tags: @yerevasunclair @mother-dearest-loves-me 

The celebrations started with a short formal gathering in the throne room. The place was slowly getting crowder and the princess arrived later than usual but it wasn’t a concerning time range. Wordlessly, she returned to her spot alongside her father. She noticed the cup of wine he was holding and smiled to the pourer that remained close to him. The servant boy smiled back and the king looked at him like he was ready to order his execution. As a soft gesture of support against his bad mood, she holded his free hand. She knew that words of reassurance trying to explain herself or a convincing tale weren’t enough, so she tried something else. The sudden contact made him stare at her. He was still upset, she saw it in his eyes. Quickly, she changed the intention of her approach. Instead of acting like a caring daughter giving him reassurance, she showed the support of a loyal subdit. She kissed his knuckles and bowed her head in sign of respect, pretending to recognize his absolute authority over her. Agamemnon reacted positively, giving her a half smile that wasn’t exactly of approval but showed forgiveness. He was vainglorious about his self perceived but non existent mercy, appealing to that was more effective than trying to show affection.

The obsequious flatterers of the king started to gather around them, since that part of the festivities was nothing but an excuse to formally celebrate himself. Inevitably, some of the praise fell upon her and she kept her attitude towards it pleasing and passive, avoiding smart remarks or destacable commentary. She wished she could be left alone with her friends, but she had to keep performing for a bit longer. Helen was close to her and right next to her husband, but the distance that implied was a real bother. They shared some complicit glances despite being under the watch of the brothers.

Using their unexpected presence as an excuse to flatter their own egos, both kings started to show off some of the treasures of the conquest presented as gifts for the ladies. Argos wasn’t sacked, there was no need for excessive violence because Achilles speeded up their surrender. Still, as it did for other cities, their submission implied some concessions. Agamemnon got the military control of the land and demanded a share on the treasures of the city. Since he didn’t have a queen, his daughter had to occupy the passive role in his acts of ostentation. She had a collection of jewelry that was entirely based on stolen relics from every city he conquered, having at least one for every place. That wasn’t going to be the exception. The acquired riches were everything he had to brag about after Achilles took the symbolic glory. Knowing that most of the presents must have heard about what the warrior demanded of her, it was also a good way to reinforce her royal magnificence and the image of his control over her. On that occasion, the commemorative object of the victory she got was a necklace.

The young women were the centre of attention, as luxury objects whose value was being increased. Menelaus was acting like a loveful husband to Helen while he filled her with gifts from his share of the spoils, his older brother almost looked like a sweet, prideful father. The ceremonialize praise was hypocrisy, but it was fun for both girls to see their despicable owners pretending to be caring. Fortunately for their exhausted selves, the last and most expectant arrival stole all the attention.

As always, Achilles showed up very late. He tended to skip the pointless ceremonies that weren’t about him and he liked to leave his public hanging. Eudorus and Patroclus entered the room at his right and left side, wondering what he was going to do next. Without minding the context or any appearances of propriety, he walked right to the front of the crowd. Once he found his spot to stay, he blatantly stared at the ladies and saluted them from afar with a smile. Before his entrance, Agamemnon was in the middle of a self complacent speech that he interrupted. The sight of such a simple act creating more distraction irritated him even more. The king tried to save words with him, but Achilles robbed him of the speech before he could carry on.

“ My apologies to the ladies, I almost miss their honors.” He simply commented. “ Quite a charming pair, very sweet. I hope they enjoy what my effort got for them.”

The women stared at each other.

“ It’s not my wish to offend you, brave Achilles, but I don’t depreciate my husband’s courage.” Helen replied with extreme politeness.

“ Father knows my taste in jewelry.” was the princess’s defense.” And he is a smart strategist and clever politician. The brightest conductor of the army, of course.” She smiled to the king, trying to look like a sweet praiser. “ Your alliance is a treasure we must cherish because your accomplishments together are an honor to us all.”

” You honored me, I’m doing the same. “ the myrmidon replied.

“ It was no bother, the glory is yours. Nobody questions that.” The princess gave him the most formal answer that occurred to her in the moment.

Trying to keep with the ceremonial tone, she created an immediate distraction to relieve the tension of the moment.

“ Can we all thank this man as he deserves? This is an historical day for the city. He is the first fully consecrated hero in the times of my father.”

To her exhortation, claps and cheers filled the precinct. After that, Agamemnon decided to put an end to the formalities. There was no way of making it about himself again, so he concluded it. The festivities continued in the banquet hall.

Helen tried to reach her niece so they could do the short walk there together, but her very pleased husband stumbed in their way. Unlike his brother, he was radiant of pride because of the fervent defense that his wife did of him. If he didn’t love Helen, at least he loved how she made him feel.

Agamemnon grabbed his daughter by the wrist before she could escape to their side. Holding hands for the appearances, the started a whispered argument.

“ This is your second mistake in a row. What do i have to do with you?” He reprimanded her.

“ I got away from that shameful situation in the most elegant way, that’s what I’m supposed to do. If i were a man, I would have punched him.” She lied.

“ If you were a man, I wouldn't need him.”

“ Do you think that you would have had your own Hector of Troy if I would have been your baby boy? Quit dreaming, father. This is what you have, I do my best to serve you.“

“ You call this serving me??”

“ Who do you think I was serving when I agreed to bathe him ? Do you think that I enjoyed being degraded into servant work for him ? ” She fakely complained. ” I hate his petty audacious attitude as much as you do, but I stand him because it is what I have to do. You don’t know how hard I’m trying for you.”

She released herself from his grab.

The banquet involved less tension because the informal ambient demanded less interaction between them. She had to sit next to her father and keep with the good behaviour but the distractions kept him too busy to keep bothering her. She remained silent most of the time, but she didn't mind.

Achilles and Ajax were the centre of attention. They had a toast in their honor and people started doing them all sorts of questions. Ajax looked a bit upset because the myrmidon stole what he perceived as his chance to get major glory. He was doing a relatively good act pretending not to care about Achilles's decisive role in the victory and she felt a bit bad for him. One of her very short interventions on the talking was an attempt to validate him, but Agamemnon used her comment as a startpoint for malicious comparisons against Achilles. Using his massive amount of knowledge on heroic tales, Patroclus solved the situation. He did a magnificent defense of both heroes, talking about the complementary balance of their best traits with examples of some of their past feats. His eloquence was impressive for someone of his age, as it was his audacity to argue with the king.

Helen was having the time of her life just by witnessing how Menelaus's nervousness was growing at every instant. It was very strange for her to see him like that, fearing that anything could trigger a suspicious response from his brother. He was having a small sample of the life of lies he forced her into and she loved it. The funniest aspect about the situation was that Patroclus maintained a respectful tone the entire time. He was polite in his corrections and Agamemnon would have been the one looking bad if he would have reacted harshly.

While hearing their argument, Achilles glanced at the royal ladies for an instant. He noticed a slight change in his cousin's attitude, a rush of confidence that he wasn't expecting him to display at least there. He started suspecting their involvement and it's possible partial influence on him. The women glanced back innocently and the three shared their prideful approbation.

Patroclus's shift on the conversation frustrated the king's intentions of turning one hero against the other. Ajax got his well deserved acknowledgement and the curious boy took his chance to do all sorts of specific questions to him, giving him a moment to shine without entering in disputes with Achilles.

Since her comment started the argument,the young myrmidon tried to engage the princess in his rambling. She wasn't versed in the technical aspects of combat, but she tried to remain as a curious listener. Ajax's point, supported by the boy, was to affirm that he was the strongest man in Greece while Achilles was the fastest. He was trying to impress his listeners with less known anecdotes referring to that quality. Achilles didn't bother in refuting him and he barely paid attention because he was amusing himself by subtly ruining the girl's focus on whatever he was telling. Imperceptible gestures, smirks or just staring at her for longer than necessary were enough to achieve it. Staying concentrated in the talk was impossible for her, but she managed the situation adecuately.

When the meal concluded and the dancing started, Ajax offered her to join the festivities with him. She declined in favor of staying as Helen's companion. Ereny asked the princess's permission to be released from her daily duties and, once it was given to her, both handmaids got it. They knew that the young girl was going for the myrmidon captain and they wished her good luck.

The queen was left once more to witness how her husband chased the concubines. She didn't love him nor cared for what he did with them, but the blatant display was humiliating. She struggled to keep the appearances of love between them, but he made it harder everyday. The prideful public aspect of his cheating upsetted her because it was an insult to her pride as a woman. Her niece stayed with her, promising her that they would only have to wait until the brothers would leave the room with their respective companies.

She was feeling slightly disencouraged as well. That was a great time to lose herself in the dispersion of people, but there were too many stares following Achilles and she would never get there unnoticed. An insane amount of women were expectantly waiting to be chosen by him for the night. The ladies were competing for his attention, some being less subtle than others. She wasn't jealous, but she didn't want to engage in that game. She never tried to compete for attention and she wasn't sure of wanting to start there.

While she remained in her seat watching the crowd, her mind kept focused on one thought: Achilles seemed to fancy her in some way, but she still didn’t know how. She started fearing about the image he had of her. He described her as cute, he said that her face was adorable. Those were compliments fitting for a sweet girl, not an attractive woman.

She didn't have any certains but, if it was the case, she wished she could prove him wrong. He teased her for a very long while and she wanted revenge, but she was the princess and she couldn't allow herself such behaviour. She urged to show him how perfectly capable of displaying sensuality she was and the first thing that occurred to her was dancing.

She never showed off in public about the full capacity of her skills. Immediately as she got older enough to be allowed to stay late night in festivities, she got enraptured by the dancing of the concubines and she ended up learning to dance from them. She wanted to learn it only for herself, because she loved the graceful aesthetical aspects of the movements and she admired their performances. Her father didn’t allow her to do it but, like almost every other thing bringing joy to her life, she did it behind his back.

It was her secret talent. If she could disguise herself in the group of dancers to participate in their performance, it would be hard to difference her from the actual performers. With that in mind, she started imagining Achilles's reaction if he could see her dancing like that. She wondered if he would feel as teased as he made her feel, if he would acknowledge her womanhood and if he would want her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Helen.

" Do we have to stay like this the entire time?" She complained.

" We have to wait until they leave. It’s the best for now. " The girl replied. " I don't get it. Does he enjoy himself thinking that everyone is watching him cheat on you or what? Anyone would expect that after the devotion you faked he would think it twice and be more discrete but no, there he is... making you look like a fool. "

" I'm thankful to get him away from me. I only wish he could have some decency and keep it private.” The queen confessed. ” I don't deserve this humiliation. I'm a good wife, I do everything he demands of me. All I ask in return is to be respected, at least in public." Her voice was breaking a bit.

“ It’s never enough with them, they only think about themselves. “ the princess reminded. her.” I think we should do the same more often.”

“ What we did classifies as such.”

“ It wasn’t entirely selfish. We saved lifes … and their egos from an historical defeat. I mean a bit of real selfishness. A good payback. ”

“ I just want to be left alone. A lover wouldn’t repair the scars in my pride.”

“Many men would give everything they have for a night with you.” The princess commented to her. “ Do you never feel the need of being desired by a man that you want? “

“ Where did your good judgement go?” Helen mocked her.

“ You know everything about my sentimental life, but we never talk about yours.”

“ What most of those men have to offer is not what I would wish.” The queen explained. “ I have experienced desire. If we are talking about impossible aspirations, I want love.”

“ Why choose? You can have both.”

“ What did I do of you? Are you hearing yourself? Aren’t you the same girl whose goal was to have a nicely arranged marriage planned by herself using political strategy ? ”

“ You don’t want me to give up on love. Why should I let you do it ?

" You know better than anyone why I have to."

" That's not going to happen. My mother was alone, we have each other." the princess remarked. " Look at what we accomplished. We stopped a massacre, made a new friend and I got closer to the man I love, more than I ever thought I would be. "

" I told you, it is too late for me. "

" Helen,I used to think that my feelings for Achilles were a fantasy. I was ready to accept it as a comforting dream and carry on with my life. Thanks to you, I changed my mind. " the girl explained. "You have helped me so much. How can you think that I wouldn't do the same for you? "

" I doubt I would find love in a place like this, but I appreciate your concern. " the queen stated.

" Promise me that, if you do someday, you will let me help instead of giving up."

" We won a battle, dear. Not the war. " Helen clarified.

" We can win many more. " her niece reassured her. " You deserve to be loved and to own your desire."

"To be honest, I feel I’m more aware of what I don’t like in a man than of my actual preferences. I don't know what i like anymore. "

" Don't worry. We have time, i would love to help you to rediscover your taste. If it is not now, we will keep digging into figuring it out."

" It's not wise to get involved with someone that would never be mine. "

" You know what? I think I overcomed that. '' the princess declared. " I don't care anymore. Maybe Achilles will never be mine and so what? I want to be with him, I don't mind how. Perhaps he will never make me his wife and that's fine, I don't need to own him to love him. Love is not only about marriage. If marriage can exist without love, love can exist outside of marriage and you can find it. "

“ You have to tell me now what happened in that excuse of a bathing ceremony.” Helen teased her, encouraged and excited.

The princess tried to explain it to her carefully, watching over her expressions and paranoidly checking for the presence of unwanted listeners. Listening to her cheered Helen up.

“ What are you doing sitting here? “ she reprimanded her.

“ If I’m going to do a move, it has to be safer than this. “ The girl clarified. “ I can’t risk being seen by my father or inspiring gossip.”

“ He could have kissed you right there. “

“ Reason in the form of Hesione stopped me from finding out if he would have .” The princess added. “ I don’t know if i can do it now. Have you seen all those women ready to step on each other's heads for him? I’m not going to do that.“

“ You don’t have to be part of that,you are one step ahead.” Helen stated “ If you want a moment to get things clear. This is it.”

With that, she dragged her up from her seat.

The young ladies mixed themselves in the crowd, trying to have fun on their own. The princess procured not to concentrate in trying to find Achilles and just enjoy herself in the company of her aunt. Helen’s mood improved from the brief downfall it had because she redirected her thoughts. Instead of thinking of the public humiliation brought to her by her husband’s behaviour, she focused on the victory over him that she got. She humiliated him indirectly, her actions caused a situation that made him feel like an idiot in front of his brother. Some justice was served that time and she was able to celebrate. It was a small triumph, but just thinking about that made her start laughing without an apparent reason. The sudden boost in her joyful mood started to manifest in her dancing.

The queen’s grace was famous, but Helen never looked prettier as she did when she was really happy. She irradiated her emotions and the ambient felt renewed around her. Bright of happiness, she started dancing right in front of the musicians and the magnetic effect of her approach made them play the same song for longer, just so she wouldn’t leave. The percussionist was jaw dropping with her and even the princess was impressed by how obvious he was.

He was bewitched, but not in a lustfull way. The handsome young man was worshipping Helen with his music and she started responding with her dancing straightly to him. Since she realized that her niece was right next to her evaluating the situation, she encouraged her to follow her moves instead of teasing them with stares. Then, both girls found themselves dancing for the musicians and letting themselves go to the beat of their music.

Unlike the queen, the princess tried to keep her moves as chaste and cheerful as possible. Still, forgetting all her concerns to the sound of the music almost ruined her intentions . The fastening of the beat betrayed her for an instant and some very inappropriate hip flicks she did under the influence of the stimulation around her impressed her dancing companion. She isolated the movement of her hips to the rhythm of the song with a great synchrony. Sharp hip flicks combined with contractions of the lower belly creating a single circled swing. Cheering from the crew of artists made her realize of how she let herself go completely and she calmed down, going back to her usual style.

It was too late, Helen was too curious to let it go. Once the song ended, she had to abandon her admiror. Then, she started questioning her.

“ What was that?? It was incredible! “ She complimented her.

“ Sorry. The beat was great and you were pushing me in the wrong direction.”

“ When were you going to tell me about this?” The queen recriminated her.

“ Our mystery is solved. I think you are into pretty boys worshipping you with respect. Sweet admiration, not those looks of when you know that the man is mentally undressing you.” The princess teased her to avoid the topic.

“ Don’t try to get away from this. “ Helen teased back. “ You have to teach me that.”

“ I lost control, I wasn’t supposed to do that here .” the princess excused herself.

“ You will explain to me later where that came from, now I want to learn how to move my hips like that.”

“ We all have our unique ways of expression. You have your makeup skills, I have this.” the girl joked. “ I didn’t mean to hide it from you, the occasion to show you never presented. “

“ It presented itself now.” Helen rectified. “ We have music and a proper space. “

She was reluctant, but agreed.

“ Only because it’s you who is asking. I owe you too much to say no.” She admitted. “ This is absolutely inappropriate so i will only show you hip moves. For a proper lesson, I need secrecy."

“ Forget protocols, we are having fun.” Helen encouraged her.

Her niece took the position of instructor and decomposed the otherwise integrated steps of the movement so Helen could learn it and copy it. Very slow like at first, the queen achieved it with great enthusiasm. The princess oriented her into repeating it a few times before trying to find a pace with the rhythm. She guided her into picking that pace and, soon, both were dancing at a matching tempo. Helen looked bright with happiness.

" I don't want to brag, but this makes me feel beautiful." she joked.

" It's not very lady-like, but it's fun." her niece replied.

They were being happy with themselves, not caring about anything else. The relegated corner of the place they picked as their fun zone wasn't the safest spot to feel some freedom, but it was the best they had. For once, they ignored the certain chances of attracting stares, the perceptions and everything that tied them. The princess showed the queen two more combinations of hip movements. They were trying hip locks to the sides when a sudden but partially expected intromision ruined their bubble of concentration.

" Watch out, princess. Those moves look so sharp that you could have cutted me with your hips." Achilles told the mycenaean as he passed by right next to her.

The sound of his voice was enough to make her jolt and she lost herself to it, immediately stopping what she was doing.

" I’m glad to see you having fun. I tought you weren't going to get up. " Patroclus cheerfully saluted them, appearing right after him.

Both ladies at once responded to his greetings.

" What are you doing over here?" Helen inquired. " We saw you dancing right in the center with some girls a while ago. You are doing great."

" To be fair, most only looked at me because I'm standing next to him." the boy admitted. " When we came nobody cared but now everyone does because they found out I'm the cousin of Achilles."

" I'm doomed to always being the daughter of Agamemnon, very few people care beyond that." the princess commented. " I treasure those and don't mind for the rest. "

" Don't worry. You will make a name for yourself soon and that will end." Helen added. " Younger noble girls from big cities can be like that but growing up makes them wiser. In a few years, you will start to be seen as yourself and they will adore you. "

Achilles was impressed by the soft naturality of their interactions. They were comforting him as close friends. He kept listening to their conversation.

" It's fine, It doesn't affect me that much. " Patroclus tried to explain himself better. " In fact, I'm hiding from your husband."

To the mention of him, Helen looked exasperated.

" What has he done now?"

" He was talking with Achilles and I was there with them. " the boy started telling them. " He must be too drunk to care about being too friendly. He started saying nice things about me and ended up offering me a woman. "

Helen got second hand embarrassment.

" I'm sorry, darling. Did he make you feel uncomfortable?"

" He said some stupid thing about how he had her before and she was perfect to make me a man. It was disgusting."

" That's the House of Atreus at it's best. Imagine them at their worst. " the princess added. " Ignore him, Pat. You may be too young, but are already a better man than him."

" I have faith in you." Helen emphasized. " I think you 'll be a great hero because your morals match your potential as a warrior. You will make us all proud."

" We love you. " the princess concluded. " Keep ignoring anything you hear from him or my father. They think they know better than everyone else but they are the worst combination of cruel and stupid. "

" I leave him with you just once and you are already pampering and overprotecting him?” Achilles commented, his mocking hiding a shade of happiness. " He knows that Menelaus is not a good example of what truly means to be a man. "

" He has you. " the queen complimented him. " You aren't perfect, but you are guiding him right. It doesn't matter how many battles you win. To me, he reflects the best of you. "

Patroclus smiled at her. Helen's praise impacted him in a positive way.

" She wasn't a strong supporter of you." The princess clarified. " Her opinion changed after meeting him."

" Spending so much time with people who love you changes the perspective. " The queen hinted, indirectly including her niece in the affirmation." I used to think you were a cold, emotionless man with no care for anything. Your bond with Patroclus is only one of many proofs of how wrong I was. I commited with you the same mistake everyone does with me: I judged you by what you appear to be. "

" Good, It's mutual." Achilles simply replied. " You are stronger than what I thought you could be. I started to see it in all the stories that your niece has told me about your shenanigans. I like you a lot more thanks to her."

" It's the first time ever when somebody likes me first. In Sparta, you will be addressed as Patroclus's cousin." the boy added, mocking him with pride.

" Seeing you again in my lands would bring me great joy. '' Helen stated." I hope that this shameful experience with Menelaus didn't scare you away."

" Don't worry, queen. " Achilles reassured her. "If you are guilty of anything, is of cherishing so much that he doesn't want to leave your side."

" I have new friends that like me for me. Get over it. " his little cousin kept joking.

" I celebrate it. They are a good influence for you. " Achilles replicated." Today you humiliated a king for the first time and you did it so cleverly that he couldn't find a way to argue. Agamemnon, of all kings. I can't be more proud. "

" He deserved it. He was trying to create spite between you and Ajax. That's low, even for someone like him. '' Patroclus explained.

" Thanks for helping me there. If it wasn't for you, he wouldn't have stopped until offending one using the other." The princess told him." Not so long before he used to say that Ajax was a brute fool from an insignificant kingdom, now he wants to make him the next Hercules. He is desperate, he wants so badly to get rid of your cousin that he is willing to accept any other who would obey him.``

" I feel bad for any contestant in the army aspiring to get the same glorification he has." the boy affirmed. " Achilles has you, that's a great advantage. They will never make it."

The princess laughed softly, glancing at the warrior.

Achilles's gaze followed hers, in complicity.

" You are the queen's favourite, you will run with the same advantage. "

" The bright daughter of the highest commander designs political strategies for you… All the rest are doomed."

" You are so sweet!" the princess thanked him.

" I don't see why not pointing it out. "

" Agamemnon is too foolish to see it, but you think like a politician." Helen told her.

" What's greatly convenient, because having to stand polítical tangles is what Achilles hates the most about his work. " Patroclus insisted.

" Odysseus had helped him with that countless times. " the young lady reminded him.

" He is a king, his polítical work is for his own benefit." Helen remarked. " I know they are good friends, but the goal of Odysseus's work is not to raise him up above all the heroes."

" His competence has no chance because now he has you aligned with him and working with his interests. Honestly? I think that's a bit unfair." Patroclus concluded.

" They must have their own tricks." Achilles defended himself. " I guess she is mine now."

" We shouldn't be discussing this here. " the princess warned them. " Can we bring up something else ? This is a party, we are supposed to talk trivial things. "

" Where did you learn to dance? " Helen asked, pretending to be innocently curious.

" Seriously??"

" It is a trivial topic. " the queen remarked before explaining herself to the recently arrived men. " What you just saw was me attempting to learn some incredible moves I saw her doing. I had no idea, it was a total surprise and I'm very curious."

" The story behind it is not as interesting as you think it is." the princess clarified.

" When she says that, assume the opposite." Achilles mocked her.

" I have been secretly involved in dance practices of the palace's concubines for years. I don't like to show it at parties because it is something I learned for my own gratification and my father is not supposed to find out. " She confessed " Helen looks so happy, she inspired me to relax and I forgot were I was."

" Wait, are you a dancer? That explains a lot of things. " Patroclus commented, impressed. " I wrecked you when we were trying to teach you self defense but I noticed that you have some flexibility. "

" It's nothing compared with what it requires to be a fighter. '' the princess corrected him. " Being more specific, I'm not a dancer because it's not my occupation. I learned from actual dancers and I practice for fun. It's very liberating for me, a great pastime during the absences of my father. "

" How is it that we keep discovering secrets of yours? " Achilles asked.

" You are one of the few who know me as i am. " she tried to explain herself. " I discovered my fascination with dancing right after I started being allowed to stay all the way during parties. I saw a performance and I knew then that I wanted to do that. I wasn't paying attention to the lustful men around the dancers, I loved their movements. Men may see it only as their entertainment, but the dance looks like a celebration of femminity. I wanted that."

" How did you do it?" Helen insisted.

" It took some time. " She started telling. " When Agamemnon saw me following the girls at a gathering because I was trying to learn from them he was scandalized. He forbade it to me, he said that dancers were whores and no daughter of his was going to humiliate him behaving like a whore. He tried to make it up for me by sending me to the temple of Artemis to dance with the priestesses."

" Of course, you had to learn from the virgins. How would you dare to question his expectations? " Helen joked, sarcastically following the line of the reasonament.

" It wasn’t my wish, I did it because he said it. Dancing like a priestess was not what I wanted.” the princess kept explaining “ I went to the temple, behaved well, learned what they wanted to teach me and worshipped the goddess in the ritual dances. The priestesses liked me and my father started bragging about how his girl was so pure that the temple of the virgin goddess wanted her."

" He didn't let them have you because he needs grandchildren if he wants his bloodline to continue. " Patroclus guessed.

" I wouldn't have joined them. I honor the gods and sometimes i pray, but i never felt loved by any of them. I respect the dedication of their priestesses, they find fullfilment in serving them. It's not for me, I never felt the mistic call. " She commented. “I did what I was sent to do, I was respectful and that was the end of it. It didn't erase my original interest for the profane dances as Agamemnon thought it would."

Helen laughed briefly. It was always funny to hear examples of the complete ignorance about the sensibilities of women that the Atrides had.

" I waited until his next absence and I went to learn with the concubines of the palace. " The princess kept explaining. " They are not used to being respected by ladies. When I told them that I admired their dancing and I wanted to learn from them they didn't know what to say. It must have impacted them, because they agreed to instruct me in secret. That's how I learned. I keep joining their practices when I can. It helps me to relieve tension and it is my secret way of self expression."

" You managed to make yourself be equally liked by temple maidens and palace dancers? You are a true politician, even outside of politics." Achilles pointed out.

His comment made her smile.

“ Now that I think about it, It is the first time I see you dancing. I didn’t have the pleasure at the wedding party.” He reminded her.

“ I didn’t dance much that time and, certainly, not as i like to when I’m not being watched.” She replied.” This was an accident, Helen was flirting with one of the musicians and the ambient inspired me to lose control.”

“ I wasn’t flirting, I was dancing to his interpretation.” The queen defended herself.

“ You don’t need excuses with us. If you want me to kill your husband, just make a sign.” Achilles joked.

Helen laughed more than what she should have.

“ She is thinking about it!” Patroclus added, cracking of laughter.

“ It is not worthy to ruin your reputation for it, but thanks for the offer.”

“ It can be an accident in the middle of a battle. We can say that he got in the way of my spear.”

The princess laughed harder then.

“ See? She gets me.” The warrior commented.

“ It’s the same kind of grim joke I would have made.” She explained, still laughing. 

They shared glances, looking deeply into each other’s eyes for an instant. 

“ Do you want to dance with me?” Achilles offered her. “ We couldn’t last time and you are making me curious..” 

She took his hand as a sign of approval, smiling with delight. 

“ You can dance with me, Helen.” Patroclus playfully added, remarking how they seemed to have forgotten of them. 

Helen grabbed his hand and both were laughing, 

They walked following the intensity of the music’s sound with the intention of finding the group of musicians again. When they resumed dancing the princess stopped caring about anything else but her partner. It was reciprocal, because Achilles couldn’t take his eyes off her. Remembering some of the wild thoughts she have had before, she unveiled her sensuality for him within her dancing. Her movements were like a soft tease implying that there was so much more that she could be showing to him if the show would have been private. Her hips, waist and chest were the areas of her body that the moves highlighted. Combined with the graceful gesticulation of her hands and arms, it was a very appealing sight. 

She knew that he wasn't able to touch her more than what would look necessary because of the context and she was using it at her advantage. Still, since he wasn't able to express himself with actions, he did it with words. 

In a particular moment, when he ended up behind her while she was doing torso undulations, he got a chance to grab her hips and whisper close to her ear. 

" You should have done this in Phthia, behind closed gates." 

They were so close that he was able to smell the scent of her hair. 

" It wasn't the right time, but if you invite me back i can take my dancer suit for a private performance." Was her tempting reply. " I have one, you know? My friends helped me to make it." 

" I don't think I would let you go after that." 

She was melting, her heart was throbbing and her head racing with thoughts of him. However, she did her best to keep going as before because she needed to feel sure of being a woman in his eyes.

While his hands were still on her hips, she changed the move and started doing internal hip circles. The sharp motion, first of her right hip and then the left, incited him to pull away one hand at the time, following the rhythm of her every action. The roundness of the hip rotation made her push her butt slightly against him in a movement that looked accidental but didn't feel as such. 

She put some distance between them, enough to spin around and face him again. The song ended shortly afterwards. 

" Sorry, It was the music. I almost forgot that you were there. " She apologised, faking innocence. 

" Some people may be staring ... Don't you care for discretion anymore?" He teased her. 

“ Most people here are drunk. They couldn’t care less, I couldn't care less.” She answered. “ Besides, this was pretty discrete compared to what I can actually do.” 

“ Why are you doing this? ” 

“ Because I want.” She simply admitted. “ You are the only man I ever wanted to dance for, the first one who has me like this.”

 It was a strange confession of feelings. Metaphorically disguised, but it was there. 

Achilles didn’t answer. Not because he didn’t wish to, he couldn’t do that at the moment. First, because of the context surrounding them but mostly, because it wasn’t a good time to be open with her. He didn’t want her to confound his own growing feelings for her with a rush of lust. He cared deeply for her, it started fast and it took him by surprise. He felt good having her in his life, even when it was at moments. After each of their reunions he felt a bit more infatuated. 

Right there, she was making his body crave for hers, but he didn’t want that to be his first response to her affections. He guessed that she was acting so sensually because she wanted to confess herself but didn’t know how. He thought that she must have heard that was the way in which he prefered to be approached, that she had to make herself be wanted for him. He would have lied if he would have denied that he was enjoying it, but he was trying to avoid thinking with his crotch. 

She had given him plenty of subtle signs about her feelings before and he never gave her a direct answer, mostly because he didn't find a good moment for it and part of him felt like he couldn't allow himself to do it. He didn’t want her to assume that he only reacted then because he was horny. 

He was trying to do better for her, but she didn’t understand it like that at first.

 The princess interpreted his silence as rejection. For the sake of her own pride, she pretended not care. She kissed his cheek,smiled at him and went back to Helen’s side. For the rest of the night,she tried to carry on as it never happened. Internally, she felt stupid, but it was the only way she found to overcome it.

She focused again on helping Helen. Acting carelessly, the first thing she did afterwards was to take advantage of a short pause of the music to talk to the man she was sharing glances with as a way to stimulate her to get closer. The princess started by praising his playing and asking his name in front of her and Patroclus. Smiling proudly, he told them to address him as Alexander. The princess didn’t hesitate in starting calling him Alex. He was very respectful, especially of the queen. He expressed his admiration for her in a kind way and didn't attempt anything on her, clearly seeing her as unreachable. Helen seemed to enjoy his harmless attention. In the conversation, they also found out that Patroclus had musical inclinations. Alexander was a percussionist playing Toubeleki and Patroclus made his contribution to the small talk speaking about his experiences learning to play the khitara. Helen was grateful for the care of her friends, both trying to make efforts for her just because they saw her getting along with him. For obvious reasons, the talk was short, but it was a good start. 

They lost sight of Achilles and the princess was secretly relieved for it. She was mortified thinking that her attempt of pursuing him ruined everything between them. Over the course of the party, the three stayed together because they were already comfortable enough with each other.

They got involved in trivial talks with many different people. At one moment, they crossed paths again with Ajax while they were waiting for servants to bring them something to drink. The salaminian hero was doing the same and he greeted their encounter. He was a bit tipsy, but he was good company because he was funnier to be around than what most people assumed. The four fooled around together for a while. They were drinking and joking and the princess almost forgot how bad she was feeling, until he reminded her that she still owed him a dance because he was the first one trying to get her away from the table. He was just joking and It wasn’t his fault, so she tried to keep being sweet to him. Her polite reply explained her refusal linking it to his circumstantial state. Avoiding to sound mean, harsh or sarcastic, she promised him that she was going to dance with him the next time she would find him sober. Fortunately, It made him laugh. 

He resumed their previous conversation in an infinitely less formal way, saying that he was perfectly fine because he was the strongest man in Greece and the effect of a few drinks weren’t an impediment for him. He told them that he could show them on the spot how he was able to lift both women from the ground at the same time and Helen considered the discussion about his state over, fearing that he would actually try it. She felt relatively comfortable with him and it was a grateful surprise. For such an intimidant looking man, he was very nice and likeable. After sharing some more laughs, she ended up dancing with him.

Their brief encounter cheered the princess up a bit, simply because it was very hard not to laugh with the amount of funny insanity that they came up with. Still, she kept feeling out of place, like if nobody really needed her there. Helen was probably waiting until the end so she could have a longer conversation with the percussionist and Patroclus deserved some time to have fun on his own if he wanted that. She couldn’t help to think that she was ruining the party for them . Openly expressing her wish of not being followed, she excused herself saying that she had enough fun, was too tired and prefered to rest. She hugged her friends, thanking them for their company and wishing them goodnight.

In her walk to her bedroom,the princess speeded up her pace to avoid being disturbed. She didn’t want to be approached by anyone else, wishing to forget about her feelings of shame. She almost reached her destination, but the hold of Achilles's strong arms deviated her in an empty hall. 

“I can't deal with this now. " she admitted. " Would you let me go? I will talk to you in the morning"

 " If we wait any longer, we will never do it. " He stated, embracing her waist. 

" What are you talking about??" She complained. 

“ Don’t play the fool now. You can’t try to hide anymore.” 

" I know that I ruined everything. " 

While hearing her, he seemed slightly confused. 

" By now, you must know how I feel for you. '' She explained herself. " I may be good at reading the feelings of others, but I get easily overwhelmed by mines... I have spent my lifetime training myself to suppress them, I don't understand myself sometimes... I wanted you to see me as the woman I am because only then I could make you understand how I feel."

 Her explanation made him chuckle for an instant. 

" What's so funny ??." She tried to pull away from his contact, but he was obviously stronger than her. 

" I see you as a woman, I have always done it. " He replied. 

" I know how you act around the women that you like. It is not how you acted with me. " 

" Do you think that I don't want you?" A light chuckle escaped from his lips again. " You are so lovely." 

" That's it. I'm always the sweet innocent lamb, I can't escape from that. " She complained. " I'm a living, breathing woman with feelings and desires. "

 " I'm aware of that. " He reassured her. " That was a very interesting reminder of it, but I know it." 

" Then why do you keep ignoring me? " Her voice showed frustration. 

" Things between us are not so easy. " 

" You know, before you start thinking about it, I have to say that stepping into helping you was a choice I made based on my convictions. " She clarified. " I believe in you, I didn't do it looking for any retributions. Even if you don't correspond my feelings, that wouldn't change anything. I'm still commited to our pact."

" Calm down." He caressed her hair. " Can you stop assuming that I think the worst of you? I don't." 

" I don't know what else to do to get a concrete answer from you.” She insisted. “I just want that. I don't mind the outcome. If you don't feel the same, I will respect it. " 

Then, he crashed his lips against hers. It was a sweet kiss, intended to serve as a response confessing his affections, but it was charged with the passion of the long craving for it that he also had. She was in such bliss that he felt her body trembling. 

He smiled against her lips. 

" Are you alright?" 

" It’s the longing. " was all she could answer. 

“ You didn't have to do anything else to get me. " He clarified. “ I liked you in Sparta, now i think it’s something more than that.” 

" I haven't stopped thinking about you since the day we met." She confessed. " I didn't know then that it was going to get that far, but here i am." 

.” Odysseus spent half of the way back telling me to stay away from you like a father scaring away a suitor that he dislikes. “ He confessed. “ I did it for a good long while, but you came to me on your own and you dazzled me."

 " He doesn't dislike you, you are his friend. " She clarified " He knows of somebody who hates you and he tries to protect me from him. " 

" I will never allow that old drunk to hurt you. " He said, in what sounded like a promise. 

" Would you steal me from him?" She playfully joked. 

" If it's what I have to do to keep you safe, I would." 

She kissed him, clinging onto him and refusing to pull away until being breathless. In that act, she condensed years of hidden adoration for him and all her hopes. 

Achilles felt it, and he couldn’t help to love her for it. 

“ My room is close. “ She offered. “ It’s safer to continue there.” 

She giggled and headed first. It wasn't wise of them to be seen getting inside there together, so they had to do it in turns.

The princess arrived first, leaving the door unlocked. Her heart was racing with expectancy. The warrior appeared shortly afterwards, closing the door behind them. Immediately after seeing him, she kissed him again. 

" Slow down, lioness." He teased her after she finally pulled away. 

" I wish I could." she joked in reply. 

" This is what I mean when I say that you are adorable, not that I see you as a cute little girl. " He commented." You are so tender, it gets me."

 " Really?" She asked, impressed. 

" I love it. " He answered, honestly. " I also loved what you did for me tonight. " 

" It didn't look like that. " She pointed out. 

" It didn't have to look like that. It was dangerous. " He reminded her. " I like some risk, but you took a pointless one." 

" I wanted you to want me and I think it worked." 

" You need to know that I don't want you because you did that.” He confessed. “ I want you for you and I want all of you, not just this." 

" Then take me." Her proposition sounded like a beg. " I'm ready." She was talking against his lips, holding his hands and pushing them against her body. 

" Not tonight, princess." He was teasing her, his cheeky tone got on her nerves. 

" Why?? " She complained, her frustration almost made her raise the tone of her voice. “ I want to be with you, I don’t care for anything else. Father will end up selling me for power anyways, It will be the buyer’s problem. ” 

" You didn't let me finish." He corrected her. " I'm not going to take you for myself tonight. " He explained as he started to leave a trail of kisses from her jaw in direction to her neck. " But I have many other ways to show you how good you make me feel. " 

She gasped and he smiled against her skin.

 " The massage was amazing. " He added as he kept descending. " And that dance? You are spoiling me, that’s royal treatment." 

" There is nothing I wouldn't do for you." 

He stopped for an instant just so he could look at her in the eye, feel the intensity of her love, and kiss her lips once more.

#troy 2004 #troy #troy (2004) #troy 2004 fanfiction #troy fanfiction #achilles #helen of troy #patroclus #ajax #brad pitt #diane kruger #garrett hedlund #reader insert fanfiction #achilles x reader #female reader

[ticklee-research-in-progress]

how do i ask my long distance partner (who knows that i like to be tickled, but isn't exactly a ler himself) to tease me without feeling as embarrassed? i always chicken out of asking :(

also, are there any ways to get him more into tickling me, since it isn't an interest/kink of his?

Generally, I would mostly use the same strategies as in my previous posts regarding telling loved ones/friends about having a tickle kink. 

You can take a look at the post “How do I talk about tickling to friends/close people without making it sound like something weird?” in the Tickling and Relationships section of my pinned library! 

You could also take a look at ”What’s the best way to get tickled by someone without asking?“ for more subtle, nonverbal cues to be tickled. 

But since I have a feeling you’re looking for something more specific - I’ll give you advice based on my own personal experience. 

...And just for you, I’ll sprinkle in a few words from a very special guest to give you some more perspective as well. 

My love is not a Tickler. 

We’re also long distance! And even though we have been dating for almost two years, to this day it is still difficult for me to ask for any kind of tickly attention. 

But after many, many conversations about what makes us happy, what lights the fire in us, and what we need to ensure our relationship can continue to thrive... 

We both have an understanding that tickling brings me to my happiest. 

When we talk about it, my love often mentions that they don’t have a “drive” for tickling - while my brain is constantly thinking of tickles. And that’s okay. 

I don’t need to instill a tickling kink in their mind to make our relationship work or to feel fully satisfied. 

It’s not a matter of making my Princess have tickling on the mind like I always do. Instead, it’s a matter of both of us recognizing why I crave tickling from them specifically so badly: 

I want their touch. 

I want them to make me happy. 

And I want their touch to be the reason for my happiness. 

Understanding that is the foundation we use to start a conversation about how we can work tickling into our relationship in a way that isn’t forced or unnatural for either of us.

Teasing without that “drive” isn’t easy. 

I’ll admit that we are still working on exactly how they can tease from a tickler perspective without having a passion for tickling...

What I do know is that is up to me as the ticklee to initiate.

I’ve given my love lists of phrases to refer to when I ask for verbal teasing. 

I’ve shared GIFs and videos of tickling that put me in a lee mood for them to learn from.

I’ve shared my experiences participating in tickling sessions - what I liked and didn’t like, what worked well and what didn’t, etc. - so that they know exactly what I enjoyed. 

I’ve asked for voice messages and described what I wanted to hear. 

I’ve asked for them to send me videos of their fingertips wiggling a certain way or mimicking tickling a specific spot. 

I’ve asked them to describe what they remember from tickling me in the past, or to tell me that they enjoyed tickling me. 

I’ve defined tickling terminology and taught them basic anatomy to give logical reasoning for the reactions I have to tickling.

I’ve incorporated tickling into our Dom/Sub dynamic so that both of us can gain satisfaction from it. 

I’ve asked for validation that my laugh is a sound they enjoy hearing. 

I’ve guided them while tickling me, like how to better adjust their grip on my ribcage, or how light touches work better on my underarms than heavy tickling, or how kissing my stomach gives me butterflies...

I made this blog for my love. I wanted a place where I could teach them how I see tickling and how to tickle me better. 

I don’t ever expect tickles - but I do ask for them when needed and hope it is something my love wants to provide. Not matter how greatly I crave tickling, I would never force my partner to do anything they didn’t want to. And by talking about how important it is to me, we find ways for tickling to be a new way they show their love for me. 

If you take away the “drive,” you’re left with a script, a process, and a very sensitive, reactive body. If your boyfriend can learn what you like to hear, what you’d like him to do, and how you’d like to feel, I think that will make it easier to incorporate tickling into your relationship. 

It will still be your responsibility to initiate. But the goal through talking and teaching is to create an understanding - not a drive. 

Let’s wrap this up by allowing my love to share some thoughts on how they’ve felt through this process:

Did your perspective of me change when I told you that I had a tickle kink?

I don't think it did. Your demeanor and laugh made me feel there was no great contrast with you and tickling.

What stuck with you the most from our conversations about tickling and why I like it so much? 

Your motivations for enjoying tickling were very innocent. Kink and platonic intentions don't usually play together in my head so it was confusing at first to understand tickling from a purely ace position. It makes more sense to say that it was fascinating to me that your motivations for being tickled were so simple and pure.

Has incorporating tickling into our relationship been difficult for you?

No, it hasn't been difficult. While tickling is not something that I am naturally driven to (as I am to other kinks), it isn't something I am repulsed or weirded out by. It still involves touch and strong reactions which I enjoy. I tend to be obsessed with the "why" of kink moreso than the sensations alone. This causes me to sometimes desire context over understanding the want for the sensation. But it isn't a wide disconnection. Just something I have been adapting to over time!

What has been the most helpful way to teach you how to tickle better? 

I know that most Lers are dominants and most Lees are submissives. But I also know that you do not see tickling through that binary as most do. The best way I have learned how to incorporate tickling into our relationship so far is being trained to do so from a submissive's perspective. It becomes more natural to me when I do it as something I already am and not something that contradicts that.

How do you feel when tickling me?

I think because I am still learning how to tickle, there is often times uncertainty. I've learned that tickling can be very technical, has a lot of history, and is supported by a huge community. Becoming more comfortable with tickling is sometimes as intuitive as any other kink I like and sometimes intimidating when trying to line it up with our power dynamic. But it all becomes less complicated when I touch in a way that makes you laugh or move. It is instant positive reinforcement for me to see those reactions and that makes me happy.

How has your perspective on tickling changed due to me having a tickle kink?

Tickling was something I knew very little about prior to meeting you! So a lot has changed since our many talks and play sessions. Learning about the depth of tickling techniques and the community has been a fun journey so far and watching you become more comfortable in a more..unorthodox position on how you like to be tickled..has been fun as well.

I hope that helps! Thanks for the ask, nonnie!

#tickle community #tickling community #ticklee #tickler