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#a lot of things i simply am not into and find distasteful but at the end of the day live and let live. and tbh i think having
starryknight-tarot · 16 days
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𝓦𝓱𝓸 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓾𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮 𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓼?
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pile 1 -- > pile 2 pile 3 -- > pile 4
my masterlist<3 . paid readings
Hello beautiful souls✨ Today we will be looking into what kind of people your future friends are and maybe a little more into your dynamic together. Remember to meditate, take a deep breath, and pick whatever pile calls to you the most. My readings are meant for everyone, no matter what sexuality or identity you are. Since this is a general reading, make sure to take what resonates and leave what doesn't. Credit to @benkeibear for the divider and @thuminnoo on instagram.
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Pile 1 Cards: Temperance, Three of Swords, Six of Swords, Strength, Three of Pentacles, Nine of Wands, Page of Pentacles, Ace of Cups rx Back of the Deck: Five of Pentacles
The energy for this pile has a lot of layers to it. While I was shuffling, I heard the word "first" pretty clearly, so your future friends might be the first time you can really call someone a friend or simply your first time having friends at all . I feel like all of your future friends are going to have very big personalities. If you are an introvert, you are going to feel like you were adopted by a bunch of extroverts. I am actually getting Mean Girls vibes from this pile, like in a school setting, all your friends would be the talk of the school. The cool kids so to speak lol. And the energy you are going to feel with them also feels pretty complicated. In friendships, you can have good days where everyone is getting along and having fun, and then other day when things can feel more awkward and even a little uncomfortable, your friend group isn't going to be safe from this. Although, you may feel like you may feel like you don't truly fit in with them. I am hearing "Imposter Syndrome" so with your future friends, you may feel like you don't deserve to be around them. But I am getting that your future friends REALLY don't want you to feel this way. In fact, I feel like there may be a moment in your friendship where all this doubt in yourself comes to the surface and you and your friends have a deep conversation about. I am getting for some of you that really don't resonate with this self doubt energy, it might be the other way around where one of your future friends isn't too confident in their friendship with you. Also, no matter what gender you identify as, your future friends are going to help you embrace your feminine energy. For some specific groups of yall, your friends are going to spark your interest in makeup. Some of yall are going to be making new friends at the gym or on a run, something physical. Like I am seeing the visual of someone running a marathon and chatting it up with the person next to them. I think for my pile 1's, yall need to start having a clear idea of what you want and need in a friend. Because if you just let anyone that shows you kindness, you might end up in a distasteful situation. If you don't feel like you and another person have a connection, it's time to cut ties with that person. But with the Page of Pentacles, I feel like you guys will actually find friends that will feel like manifested them into existence. If you have a manifestation journal, it may help to dedicate a page for qualities you want in a friend and spirit is saying that this will bring you closer to these friends. I also keep hearing "They aren't perfect" so even if you are manifesting them, they may not be the perfect person but they are going to be there for you. Also one last message for my introverts, you may want to try and put yourself out there to find friends.
Advice Cards:
Release what you do not need. Let go of some extraneous aspects of your life
Spend some time in stillness to reflect
Be adventurous. It's time to go for it!
A powerful dream will guide you
Your heart is a center of institute intelligence. Listen to it!
You are greater than your story
Channeled Songs: (I laughed when I got Please Me but some of yall may have a message there lol)
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Pile 2 Cards: Ace of Swords, Nine of Wands rx, King of Swords, The Tower rx, Ten of Wands rx, The Fool, The Emperor, Two of Pentacles Back of the Deck: Three of Swords
So I was picking up a few different types of energies for this pile, I feel like a lot of people may pick this pile so there is a lot of different people involved or each one of your friends is going to be very different personalities, take it how it resonates. One of the first things I was picking up was that your friends are gonna be labeled as the "weird kids" lol. I don't mean that in a bad way at all, they just might be the type to be labeled as nerds or dorks or whatever but they are just have really silly energy. Specifically, someone in your group is gonna be quite eccentric and unique but I think you will love that about them. This eccentric friend has lovely energy. I keep hearing ENFP or they may might just be really into MBTI. I am also picking up on someone that has a really regal vibe to them? Maybe, they feel like they were royalty in their past life or they could come from wealth. But I am getting such a sweet vibe from this person. This friend group seems like a bunch of softies and I am living for it. I was also picking up that you might have to go through some really shitty friends before you get to the friends that we are currently looking into. Spirit said "those people were never truly your friends" so some people who you thought were your friends may actually be pieces of shit and never even truly saw you as a friend. I am hearing for someone of you that these might be your current friends, of course that isn't going to be for everyone but you are seeing some signs from your current friends that they don't truly respect you as a person, or that they are leave you out of stuff, those people aren't your friends. But with the Fool, I feel like you guys are really going to start a new journey in terms of friends so there are going to be quite a few people who are coming into your life. I heard "They are going to turn your life upside down" so you may start seeing the world differently after meeting them. I do feel like you and your future friends may not always see eye to eye and may have a falling out, I'm not too sure why, it seems like a lot of misunderstandings may happen between yall. These misunderstand may cause yall to have prolonged times apart for a little while. But I do think you will come back together. I'm also not too sure this energy is for everyone or perhaps that keeping this message in mind may cause these misunderstands to be avoided. Spirit is saying "Keep an open mind" so you may need to just hear each other. I am also getting for this pile that your group of friends may be really big, like a lot of people that are gonna hang around you.
Advice Cards:
Hold your life from a sacred viewpoint. Witness the universal picture
Relax and feel good. You deserve more joy!
Your are greater than your story
Pay attention to your breathing, it's reflecting your life
Reflect on the state and use of your personal energy
You are wiser than you think
You are a natural teacher
Channeled Songs:
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Pile 3 Cards: Three of Pentacles, Queen of Pentacles, Ace of Wands, The Emperor rx, Six of Pentacles rx, Ten of Pentacles, The Fool rx, Ten of Swords Back of the Deck: Four of Cups
Excuse me for my language, but I fucking love this pile so much, your future friends have top tier energy. These friends might be people from your childhood that you rekindle with or just friends you have known for a while. Actually I am also getting that for some of you, you may meet them very suddenly and become friends very fast in your adult life, but I'm not really getting an in between. For some of you, I feel like you are already around your future friends. They seem to be more of the rebellious vibes, I am hearing Lost Boys energy. Your future friends may be strong activists and are very vocal about what is right and wrong. Your friends seems like the type of people that really stand out in the crowd. Probably for a very specific group of you, I feel like you may meet in an art class or just somewhere surrounded by art. And your future friends are SO creative and have such big imaginations. For some of you, you are going to make a career with these future friends and I am hearing starting a Youtube channel or something like that. Whatever it is, it seems like it will be really successful because of the chemistry you and your friends share. Especially with all the pentacles in this pile, yall might make major bank together. For a lot of you, these friends are going to be your soul family. For some of you, there is going to be someone in your friend group that takes up a sort of mother role and they are going to help heal you through a lot of childhood wounds that you may not have even realized you had. I heard for some of you, they are going to get you out more and get you out of a hermit period for you. There is a very small group of you that I feel like you will very suddenly stop seeing each other or perhaps this friendship will have been going on for years and some of you will want to expand your friendship to other people and not talk as much, I am getting maybe two people. A little larger group of you may just drift part after time and find new friends, but you guys would never forget each other and always hold so much love for each other. Yall story seems like it could be made into a story lol. But even then, I won't let that stop you from enjoying your friends with these people and trying your best to make it last since yall do seem really compatible. For real it's so beautiful I almost want to cry. But there is a group of you that I see growing old together basically. Yall will still be causing trouble till yall's hairs grey and you are chilling in the nursing homes lol.
Advice Cards: Release what you do not need. Let go of some extraneous aspect of your life
Reflect on the state and use of your personal energy
Be aware of your inner messages
A powerful dream will guide you
The key is in the application. Practice!
Spend some time in stillness to reflect
Channeled Songs:
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Pile 4 Cards: King of Pentacles, Ten of Cups, Four of Pentacles rx, Five of Swords, Six of Pentacles rx, Nine of Swords, The Tower, The Fool rx Back of the Deck: Six of Wands
This pile is very interesting indeed. So one of the first things I was picking up was that you may marry one of your future friends and it is going to be like "Marrying my best friend" kind of moments. Which is real cute for yall. I was also getting that your friend group might be pretty well off, like they all grew up in a pretty wealthy area or something like that. I am kind of picking up on those people that grew up rich but don't really even realize it until you point it out. But they seem like might spoil you a little, take you around to see things you may have never seen without them. I am also hearing some of you may be the rich friend. I am also getting that the way you guys will meet will be through shared struggle. Like I am getting that you and your future friends will go though an experience that not many will have gone through and while you will walk away with a lot of trouble from this experience, you will also walk away with new friendships because not many have gone through what yall have gone through. I am getting that you will have around three or four friends that you are particularly close with. With the mixture of the Tower and the Five of Swords, I feel like you are going to have a big falling out with these people. Although since we have the Six of Wands at the back of the deck, I feel this story will have a very satisfying ending. I just suddenly saw people meeting at a very tropical setting. It could just be the beach but for some of you, this feels like a different country and you will meet up there and it will feel so nice. I am also getting that instead of this falling out energy, your future friends are going to have A LOT of trauma and they may feel like they don't deserve your friendship, something along those lines. Your future friends have very shy energy. They don't seem to trust a lot of people but you managed to gain their trust. Although I feel like one of your friends is very shy and the another is very bold and confident, but even this person seems to have some inner struggles as well. I'm sorry because I feel like there is part of a puzzle that your future friends don't really want to share here. Perhaps your story with them is just something they really want you to experience without any expectations. They seem to have really good intentions with you.
Advice Cards:
Release all attachments that do not serve you
Take a lighter approach and smile about all facets in your life. A smile reflects a heart at peace You are ready to receive your fortune. Be miracle minded!
The key is in the application. Practice! You are intuitively gifted. Trust you guidance
Pay attention to the issue that time plays in your life right now
Channeled Songs:
Thanks for tuning in₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆.
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mysacredmuse · 1 month
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Hello there, I hope you’re doing well :)
Is it okay if I request Aventurine hcs with a motherly! s/o. Aventurine mentioned during the Trailblaze Quest that his parents left him before they could like idk, teach or raise him properly? So when he meets motherly! s/o, he’ll probably be somewhat weirded out by their affections, but will probably sometimes get emotional at the thought of being taken care of and loved properly, unlike his biological parents.
Maybe motherly! s/o cooks for him, gets him gifts from time to time and maybe sings him lullabies when he’s having nightmares. Aventurine deserves sm tbh :(
Have a good day and ty!! :)
hello dear !! yes, it is quite okay, eheh, I would love to write this for you ! I discussed some of these things before, so I do apologize if some are a bit repetitive :) aventurine deserves everything, I swear to god, and I am beyond willing to give it to him 🙏🏻
have a wonderful day yourself dear and no need to thank me at all !! :) <3
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aventurine with a motherly type partner, written with gender neutral reader in mind, fluff ! :)
dividers by @/saradika-graphics :)
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as we all know, while growing up, Aventurine didn't have anyone to rely on but himself. His parents left a very few life lessons, however it was never an actual parenthood coming from them, a warm meal to come home to due to being a slave, a loving hug with a big smile to await him when he comes through the door or general worry about his well-being. He has been on his own for so long and everywhere he would go, he would feel quite unwelcomed
that all changed when he met you. You brought warmth, care and genuine interest in him every single day. There would be a big smile and a loving hug waiting for him when he comes home, alongside a warm meal to be shared together. He couldn't adjust at first, not because he didn't care, but because he couldn't comperhend the fact that he was being taken care of by someone
he had a tendency to eat out a lot simply because he never learned to cook. He was fine with making dinners while at home with you, but that was quickly taken care of by you - as you were making almost every meal that the two of you would share. Alas, speaking of his usual habit to eat out quickly changed as well. He found food that wasn't made by you to be awfully bland and distasteful, even when it was made by the most professional chefs, for one reason or the other
the first time when he asked you what kind of seasonings do you use, you jokingly replied to him how it was made with love, that's why it tastes better. But, he actually took your words quite seriously, finally connecting a few dots here and there
but, he still had a bit of harder time adjusting to it all, especially when you would get him gifts or send him messages that were used as a reminders for him to take it easy, checking in if he ate and drank water. He didn't mind those by any means, but it was a bit odd to him. He would ask you why would you buy him gifts when he can afford it himself and your answer remained the same as the previous time he asked a question about your cooking - because of the love. It didn't matter if he could afford it or not, what mattered is that he knew he was loved
your words truly struck something inside Aventurine and he thinks even more about it. Now, more often he finds himself eagerly waiting for your message to check up on him because it does make him feel loved. He also incorporates sending you similar messages back because he wants you to experience the same love that you give to him <3
there are, of course, a few more adjustments to be made still, specifically when you sing to him after he had a nightmare. It is so very comforting to him, especially when you play with his hair while doing so, but he couldn't fully grasp the warmth in his chest. It felt uncomfortable to be weak, but it also felt awfully freeing to be able to be weak. To be weak with you where he feels safe and loved. That thought makes it easier for him to accept it all and believe that it won't be taken away from him <3
all of your habits - cooking, gift giving, checking in, bringing him stuff at work if he forgets them at home, singing, making him lunch boxes, tucking him in, welcoming him in the warmest way possible while making your home the most beautiful place on earth and being his safest space, his person represents the embodiment of love. You. You are the embodiment of love to him and you always will be <3
he will remain eternally grateful for you and all that you do for him and he will always make sure to repay it. Despite his initial awkwardness and confusion about it all, perhaps even a hidden fear that if he gives into love - it will only hurt him; you changed him. Well, better said, you made him feel safe to accept it all and now, every time he does anything, either for you or by himself, he does it with love, so he can be at least the half of the person that you are and make you happy as much as you make him <3
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tendergraphite · 9 months
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Bunny Corcoran: Neglect In Plain Sight
Bunny was the baby of his family, and you'd of thought this meant he received endless fawning—In reality, this had been far from the case. Many emotionally abusive parents like to lament on how attentive they are, but in all truth the Corcoran's had purely been self serving: As Henry famously put it, Buns parent's were ''Like certain reptiles who hatch their young and abandon them to the elements.'' He hadn't received enough for textbooks, I find it hard to believe that hadn't extended to item such as clothes, or worst of all food.
It places a rather rancid lens over the comments on Buns weight, as he wouldn't have been fed consistently threw out his childhood; He'd have constantly been questioning himself where exactly he would be getting his next meal, and when you have experienced this type of consistent neglect you don't suddenly brush that of when your older. It wouldn't have mattered how much he ate now, or how often—Because what if this one would be his last meal?
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It makes one wonder, has Bunny actually been taught how to do much of anything? His family saw getting a job as disgraceful, so he wouldn't have been taught invaluable life skills on how to get a job, only how he should/needed to mooch of others. Maybe that's why in so many scenes he's snatching things from others, and why he let's everyone else do the work (Does he know how to cook, even?) Richard had described how Bunny had a major habit of stealing, and when taken out of context from the rest of the above information it sounds as if he'd done it for the sake of doing so.
These ideas are shown to be even more so plausible when we take into account Bunny's Mother's eagerness for an autopsy—Something a family member should hardly want due to it's invasive nature: But she had requested one, because she feared her son would disowner the family; Not even because she feared foul play.
The family only cared for their image, not for the work it would've taken for that image to be true.
To add another layer, because Bunny never gained a job he never would've understood the value of money in the real world. No wonder he felt so free to request large sums of cash, he doesn't have an actual concept of money nor it's worth only that having an expensive taste is the right taste; and of course Richard whose had to work for a lot of his early life would look down on Bunny for such an action, he actually understands moneys worth and has to trifle with it for so long—Bunny was never taught moderation, so whenever given the chance to consume with no end, well what would you think likely to happen?
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Now I must address the elephant in the room, Bunny's blatant homophobia and sexism. As distasteful as it was, it cannot be used as a reason to justify his murder—The entire group believed what he had, mayhaps not in the exact same way but in their own mortifying ways: Julian was classist, Francis sexist—All of these characters are just as bad as one another, one was just more vocal than the rest.
Take for example the ''Death is the mother of beauty'' Scene, where they'd all been describing how they'd be revered as Gods—But as soon as the comment of ''Common crackers'' Was made, that had crossed the line; Because it failed to fit into the idea of the picturesque.
Bunny was the bird that sung truth, and don't we all hate truth? For truth as Julian assures, is not a virtue./sarc
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Abuse gets romanticised, let's admit it; if it cannot be wrapped up in a pretty box no one wants it—Whenever someone actually faces the effects abuse can have on a person, they squeal like piglets and run away from it because they cannot face how ugly abuse can make a person. No one magically becomes a dead beat, nor somehow is simply lazy by nature. We all want control over our livelihoods, but some of us believe we lack the capabilities to do so.
It's easier to be a Richard Papen, to demonise people like Bunny and say: At least I am not them, I am something better—When really, we should all be aiming to put ourselves on the same level as one another; because in reality, we are all equals.
That is not to say tolerating another's behaviour is the right thing to do, you are meant to speak up and set boundaries; to communicate and come to an equal understanding. But what is the one thing discouraged by Henry? Discussion; Richard isn't allowed to talk to Bunny ''Because he'll make it worse.'' Richard was an entirely autonomous person who'd been forcibly dragged into this situation, but chose to lay back and simplify Bunny to such a degree he could excuse murder; Richard picked a side, when there is no side.
But that's the wonder of this book, it convinces you murder was the only escape—That we should kill those who inconvenience us, who harm others with seemingly no reason. It's easier than patience, that's for sure.
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melswifeasf · 9 months
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Safest in your arms pt 6
previous chapter || next chapter || series page
Pairing: Georgia Miller x Fem!OC
Summary: night smoke seshs continue with Georgia and Samantha.
Warnings: (18+) MDNI cursing, drug use, underage drinking, age gap relationships (18 and 30) grooming, sexual themes.
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SMOKE BLEW OUT into the night as Samantha and Georgia were sitting on the blondes balcony. each of them had less than half of a blunt left, they had been outside for half an hour now. it was past midnight and Samantha made sure to wait until Georgia texted her that her daughter was asleep before she went over. it had been five days since they kissed at sophomore sleepover and things were.. interesting. after the kiss Samantha expected Georgia to avoid her again and half expected the same from herself but the blonde woman ended up texting her the night after asking if she wanted to come over. Samantha would never give up an opportunity to spend more time with her so she accepted.
from then on it was the same routine, Georgia would text her and Samantha would go over with weed for both of them or sometimes just for the blonde since she wasn't the kind to smoke every day. even though things were great between them, they hadn't actually brought up the kiss or talked about what it could mean. initially Samantha was fine with that, it's not like she was expecting a date out of it or for them to even become a thing but that didn't mean she was opposed to a little clarification on where they stood. she wondered if they could kiss whenever they were in private or if she was allowed to send flirty messages, she needed to know in order to not make the blonde uncomfortable. that's the last thing she wanted.
they had kissed a couple of times since, on the first day Georgia kissed her goodbye which left the raven girl a blushing gay mess. since that Georgia would sometimes kiss her spontaneously, it would at times end with a make-out session or other times it would just be to fluster the young girl. it was safe to say it worked.
"so," Samantha spoke up as she watched Georgia put out the very small remainder of the blunt in her ashtray. she had opted out of smoking since she had taken her medication a lot later than usual and she didn't want to have a bad trip, she had made that mistake before. the blonde raised a brow in question. "i know i said i'd never mention it again, but.." she trailed off trying to find the most respectful way to word her sentence. she had one hand holding her vape, her her head leaning against the wall as she faced Georgia. "why did you take that money? i thought you had a rich husband" she asked and brought the watermelon flavored vape to her lips.
Georgia chuckled softly at her words, "it's a little complicated." she said half expecting Samantha to just let it go but that wasn't the case. her words only ignited more curiosity in the girl.
"we have all night." Samantha shrugged with a small smile, far too excited to learn more about the her hot neighbor who she most definitely has the hots for.
Georgia shook her head with an amused chuckle as she threw her head back against the railing softly, "i'm not getting out of this, am i?"
the raven girl shook her head, "nope" she said simply. they hadn't had truly deep conversation in since they started whatever it is they were. most of the time they would just talk about Ginny and her new boyfriend or about their day. most of the time it was Georgia talking about her day per Samanthas request. the only time they had a more sentimental conversation was when Samantha talked about how she and her friends became a group.
Georgia let out a dramatic sigh, "well.. technically i was married but his ex wife is contesting the will." she explained with slight distaste. Samantha chuckled at that.
she nodded, "what are you gonna do about it?" she asked and brought the vape up to her lips once more. she made sure to turn her head before blowing the smoke, not wanting it to get in the blondes face.
the blonde shrugged, "i have my lawyers working on that but considering i don't have that money we're kind of broke." she said.
Samantha's eyebrows furrowed, "are you sure taking money is the best idea though? everyone knows everything about everyone in this town." she explained. she would never judge Georgia for what she was doing, if she were to have two kids who relied on her financially then she would also do anything to make it from day to day. more importantly, her school had more funding then anything else in the town and Georgia needed it more then the school did.
"don't worry about that, i make sure to be careful" she said waving her off. even though that should've been enough for Samantha to change the conversation topic and move on, she couldn't. what if Georgia was caught? her reputation would be ruined and everyone in the town would make sure no one ever gave her a job again. she would probably go to jail on top of that too.
"i could always help out," tue younger girl said before she could stop herself. "i have a lot of savings and you could just pay me back whenever you get the money." she said trying to further convince the blonde. she didn't need the money as much as Georgia did, it was mostly just for college and she knew she would most likely get a full ride and most of the time she just spent money on drugs or buying things online.
Georgia frowned, "i don't need your money." she quickly said, a little too defense that Samantha couldn't help but think she had offended her.
"it's really not a big deal Georgia, most of my money will just be frozen until i move out and even then, my parents are fortunate and money really isn't a problem" she tried to reason. Samantha sat up a little straighter now, her vape long forgotten on her lap as her face turned more serious.
"im not taking your money Samantha. i've been getting by since i got here, i really don't need handouts" she shook her head. her posture stiffened, a very obvious sign that she wasn't enjoying having this conversation.
Samantha sighed, "it's not a hand out. it's like - a loan. you can pay me back whenever you can."
Georgia shook her head once more, not at all budging. it was understandable but that didn't stop Samantha from feeling slight disappointment. "i don't need it, Samantha. i'm serious. now can we please talk about something else" she said a slight snap in her voice.
Samantha swallowed, not taking her annoyance to heart knowing how she must feel. no adult would want a teen offering them money because they don't have enough. that would make anyone annoyed. she flashed the blonde a small smile as she nodded her head. "so.." she trailed off, "how was your day?" she asked trying to lighten the atmosphere.
it was then that a smile finally began to twitch on the woman's lips, "it was okay. how was yours?" she asked.
Samantha shrugged, "basic. i got a fifty dollar tip though." she said with an excited smile that only made Georgias lips curl into a matching expression. it wasn't irregular seeing Samantha smile like this, Georgia had seen that when she was with her friends or family but it was different in that instant. there was a simplicity to her smile that made the blonde question why it was the first time she had seen it. the raven haired girl seemed to always have something weighing on her. there always seemed to be a distant look in her eyes, with her friends, family and even the first night they smoked together.
"can i ask you something?" Georgia spoke up, her smile fading just a little, it alerted Samantha that this would be a more serious conversation. a slight dread began to brew in her stomach. she really hoped it wouldn't be anything to make the air between them even more thick, especially not after the conversation they just had.
Samantha cleared her throat, now remembering about the vape on her lap as she grabbed it and brought it up to her lips. she inhaled deeply before letting the smoke out into the peaceful night. "sure." she answered.
"the first night we talked i asked if you had a girlfriend and you said no because you had a complicated relationship before," she said earning a nod from the younger girl. "what happened?" the blonde asked with slightly furrowed brows.
the slight dread in Samanthas stomach seemed to deepen at her words. this wasn't what she expected her to ask and frankly she would've rather she asked quite literally anything else. as much as she knew Georgia wasn't someone that went to her school and could gossip about it, she was Ginny's mother and she couldn't risk her telling her. besides, she simply wasn't ready to talk about it, she could barely mention her name in front of her friends, much less talk about what happened.
"it's a long story" Samantha said looking down at her lap with the same distant look in her eyes that Georgia had grown used to seeing. the young girl quickly shook it off as she looked back up at the blonde and spoke once more. "but i should get home. it's late after all." she said and leaned in toward the blonde. without a second thought she kissed her softly, it only lasted three seconds and her when she pulled away Georgias eyes were still closed.
a giddy feeling formed in her chest at the sight, the kiss was spontaneous even for her. if she wasn't so caught up on the question she had just asked, she never would've done it. she never thought she'd be brave enough to initiate a kiss with the blonde and yet here she was. Georgias eyes fluttered open once Samantha was standing, the raven girl shot her one last smile before she began to climb down from the balcony. she missed the way the blondes mouth opened and closed, any thought in her head disappearing as she watched Samantha run across the street and toward her home.
the regular lunch time rush at blue farm was giving Samantha a headache. it was the first time she had to work before classes ended. considering she had half days she figured she'd pick up earlier shifts so she could have time to hang out with her friends later into the day. although she was kind of regretting that now.
the girl had just gone on her break as she sat down in front of Nia. the brunette had been keeping her company since her shift started, although she really wasn't doing a good at that, she had been on her phone since the moment she sat down. it was weird, Nia wasn't really the type to be so engrossed in her device, especially not when it was just the two of them. it didn't happen often, most of the time someone else from the group would be with them and although there weren't any secrets in the group, there were just some things they only kept to each other. one of those things being Georgia - Samantha had yet to tell her since they weren't usually alone. she had hoped it would be a good day to tell her then but the brunette hadn't even realized she was sitting in front of her.
"earth to Nia" Samantha said expecting the girl to finally snap out of her little daze. that wasn't the case, instead Nias lips curled into a smile and tint of pink covered her face that only made Samantha question what was so important that she was engrossed in her phone. Samantha rolled her eyes and brought her hand toward the girl, she snapped her fingers twice, immediately getting the brunettes attention.
"what?" she asked in surprise. she turned her phone off quickly after and set it faced down on the table.
"who were you talking to?" Samantha questioned with a raised brow.
"i wasn't talking to anyone"
"uh-huh. were you watching a thirst trap or something?" she questioned further, a hint of sarcasm dripping in her tone. Nia looked confused by her words which made her best friend roll her eyes at how oblivious she was being. "you had a shit eating grin. tell me who you were talking to." she said motioning to the phone.
Nia kept her confused face but Samantha didn't back down from her stance. three seconds later the brunette sighed heavily, "fine." she groaned, her facial features relaxing. "but you can't tell anyone" she said quickly after, holding her pointer finger at her friend in warning.
Samantha chuckled, "seriously? who would i tell? you know all my secrets, i wouldn't risk it." she answered. Nia rolled her eyes knowing what her best friend had said was true. her hands slowly found their way to her phone where she gripped it tightly, an uncontrollable smile making its way onto her lips. the action made Samantha match her smile.
"so.." she trailed off trying to find the words to tell her friend. "remember sophomore sleepover?"
Samantha's eyebrows furrowed slightly, "how could i forget? you two were so drunk you threw up in Gittens trash" she said with a shiver of disgust. although that wasn't why she couldn't forget, the answer was blonde and beautiful but it wasn't the right time to tell her.
Nia rolled her eyes at her statement, "okay that wasn't my fault. Matthew stuffed me with popcorn and it made me sick." she shrugged. Samantha chuckled but motioned for her to hurry up and spill. "so you know when you were gone for like half an hour? which i really dont understand considering you were just supposed-"
"yes yes, i know. we've been over this a hundred times. now please don't try to distract me from my original question" she said cutting off her friends rambling.
with yet another eye roll the brunette began to talk, "okay so.. Matthew and i kind of started talking.." she said her eyes drifting away from her friend and down at her phone. Samantha could see the way she was biting her lip to try and contain her smile and the shine in her eyes.
"no shit. did you two..?" she trailed off knowing her friend would get what she was implying.
Mia shook her head quickly, "what? no! ew! like i would ever have sex at school." she quickly responded with a grimace.
Samantha chuckled at her reaction, "okay so what happened?"
"nothing.. we just talked about stuff. he was actually kind of sweet," she said sheepishly, the blush Samantha had seen before coming back. "he didn't talk about any of his flings or try to flirt with me like he always does. he just.. asked me stuff about me, stuff he probably already knew and yet he acted like he was genuinely interested."
the raven haired girl smiled at her words. she wanted to be happy for Nia, wanted to be as excited as she looked on the outside but she couldn't be. Matthew had a habit of breaking girls hearts, intentionally and sometimes unintentionally and she didn't want Nia to be one of those girls. there was always something there and maybe Matthew did have feelings for Nia, feelings even he didn't understand but she wasn't sure them exploring that would be the best. not only would it break the group apart but one of them would wind up hurt - that person almost definitely being Nia which would result in most of the group turning their backs on Matthew. Samantha loved them both equally and she could never choose sides. but she was getting too ahead of herself and people could change.
so she did what a good friend would do, she plastered on a smile. "does someone have a crush?" she asked in a teasing tone.
Nia groaned, covering her flushed face with her right hand. "oh my god, stopp" she said in obvious embarrassment.
Samantha laughed, "okay i'll stop. but do you actually?" she asked a lot more serious now. her right hand slowly reached across the table to grab Nias, once she was holding her hand she squeezed softly in reassurance.
"i don't know?" Nia said, "i mean, i think i've always had a crush on him but that night it wasn't just like - a crush. i felt something real, something i hadn't before and ever since he's been texting me every day. whether it's good morning or goodnight texts and sometimes he'll even call me before bed to ask me how my day was." she gushed with a dreamy voice that only made the smile on Samanthas lips widen.
whether or not she thought they were a good idea, she couldn't deny that they would be a great couple. they complimented each other well and seeing Nia this happy was everything Samantha wanted. "then i think i'm happy for you." she responded softly.
Nias features softened, "really? you don't think i'm being delusional for thinking he could like me back?"
"of course not," Samantha shook her head. "Matthew is an idiot who doesn't know what he wants, like most teen boys but if he's making an effort for you then that must mean something, right?" she continued hoping it would reassure Nia more.
the brunette nodded, "you're right." she said.
"just take things slow, okay? until you both know what you want. it's better to have things be awkward for a couple days then to have things be awkward for good." she said. she felt slightly selfish for thinking about the group dynamic before their relationship but she couldn't afford to lose any of them, they really were like her family and she couldn't live without them.
"yeah. maybe it's just a dumb crush anyway" Nia said with a slight shrug. even though she was trying to come off as indifferent, Samantha could see right through her. she couldn't tell her that though, Nia and Matthew needed to figure things out on their own and she couldn't meddle in that. even if she thought they'd be a cute couple above anything else.
deep breaths were leaving the girls lungs as she exhaled and inhaled deeply, she was trying her best to keep it steady but that didn't stop it from wavering slightly every couple of minutes. sweat was forming on her forehead, she could feel her back wet from it and her chest as well. her legs were hugged by black leggings and the sweater she had brought thinking she'd need to shield herself from the morning wind was forgotten and tied around her waist. she had ran two miles by now and she could see her house down the street from where she was. it was just a warm up to finish her day, it was her rest day anyway.
her pace began to slow the closer she got closer to her house, her breathing slowing with it. she was lightly jogging on the sidewalk when her eyes subconsciously trailed to a certain home. it seemed to be that way a lot lately, when she was driving home, alone in her room or simply sitting outside with her friends. somehow her eyes would always trail to that damn house where the woman she had the biggest crush on lived. much like most mornings she saw the blonde tending to her garden. usually she wouldn't be bold enough to go over and say something, she'd just shoot her a smile and admire from afar but she was feeling particularly bold that day. with one last glance toward her home, to make sure no one was looking, she jogged across the street to meet with the older woman.
Georgia was on her knees, seemingly planting something new, she had her regular sun hat and a pink blouse on. her white shorts were decent, they didn't show off much skin but that didn't stop Samantha from looking. once she was in ear reach she spoke, "howdy neighbor." she called out immediately getting the blondes attention. she glanced at her for a quick second, a smile forming on her lips before she turned back to her garden.
"is my accent rubbing off on you?" she responded as she began to stand, once she was she dusted herself off.
Samantha shrugged, "you could say that. or maybe other things are rubbing on me." she shrugged sending her a sly wink.
Georgia snorted, "is this your attempt in flirting? i've got to say it's not as smooth as i thought you were." she said and crossed her arms. she tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing to take a closer look at the girl. her actions made Samantha glance at her chest, her pink v-neck showing it off quite a lot which made her swallow dryly. god she was hot.
the blonde wasn't far behind, her eyes raked down the girls body. her chest was glistening with sweat, her stomach on full display and she could clearly see how defined it was. she had noticed that before, Samantha didn't shy away from crop tops but seeing it glistening with sweat, drops of it threatening to run down her stomach just made her realize how attractive they really were. Samantha's staring didn't last long so she quickly saw how she was being checked out, the thought bringing a smirk to her lips.
"like what you see?" she asked in a slightly teasing tone. the blonde didn't seem to be embarrassed she got caught as she took her time meeting her eyes once more.
"how could i not?" she shot back with the same tone.
Samantha chuckled softly, "you look beautiful by the way. really digging the whole 'hot mom across the street' thing we've got going on right now." she said sending a wink her way.
Georgia rolled her eyes at her words, "you really need to work on your flirting there."
a gasp left the raven girls lips, "i'm quite offended you would even say that," she said in an exaggerated manner. Georgia raised a perfectly shaped brow which cause Samantha to chuckle. her eyes sweeper her surroundings in a second before she turned back to the blonde and took two steps closer. it wasn't enough for anyone to question their relationship but enough go the point in which Samantha could see the lacy white bra the blonde was wearing. "maybe you'll think differently when i take you out later." she said lowly although it wasn't necessary since no one else could hear them, it made the blonde shiver so in a sense it was necessary in Samantha's mind.
"your taking me out now?" Georgia asked, her eyebrow still raised in a questioning manner.
Samantha shrugged, "if that's cool with you. it'll be late and i know a place." she said now feeling a lot shyer. she had no idea what came over her inviting Georgia out like this, it wasn't even in her plan. it simply popped up and the words left her lips before she had time to even process anything.
there was a beat of silence which made Samanthas heartbeat accelerate, the blonde seemed to be thinking of something and that alone made the younger girl worry it was of ways to reject her. had she took things further then she wanted? was she moving too fast? did Georgia just was a warm body to fill her emptiness in the depths of the night so she wouldn't feel cold and alone? there seemed to be a dozen bad thoughts all jumbled in Samantha's head but none of those things were the reality she was in.
"okay." Georgia nodded.
"really?" Samantha squeaked embarrassingly. the blonde chuckled in amusement and nodded her head, "cool so i'll text you?" she said trying to play it off.
Georgia nodded once more with an amused smile, "i'll be waiting."
those words erupted a swarm of butterflies in the girls ribcage, the kind that made her feel queasy and a fuzzy warm feeling to spread in her chest. she really hoped the warm that was moving up to her face wasn't visible. they shared one last smile before Samantha turned around to leave with a huge grin and a an excited feeling in her stomach. her eyes were trained on the floor as she walked across the street, it wasn't until she was in front of her house that she saw two teens standing in her driveway with gaped mouths. fuck.
hurried footsteps echoed throughout the home as the three teens rushed upstairs. they made sure to say a quick hello to Ellen who looked at them confused when she saw how they were following her daughter like lost puppies. once the door closed behind them, questions were being thrown at Samantha left and right.
"what the hell was that?!" Nia exclaimed as she watched her friend take off her sweater and throw it in her hamper. the shorter girl smiled softly seeing how bewildered her friends looked at what they had seen.
"since when are you and bootylicious friendly?" Matthew asked and laid down on the girls bed on his side. he reached toward where her pillows were and grabbed the scream plushy and pulled it close to him. Samantha rolled her eyes at her friends words. by now Nia was sat beside the teen boy.
"so, a couple of things have happened since Sophomore sleepover." she began.
both of her friends raised a brow in sync which their friend found quite amusing. she went to her dresser to grab her clothes so she could shower, further stretching the time to tell her friends what happened.
"and?" Nia snapped feeling rather impatient that her friend was dragging it out for so long.
the raven haired girl chuckled in amusement and finally turned to look at her friends. "so remember when i went to grab the lighter?" she asked now feeling a bit of deja vu from the day before when Nia had told her about she and Matthew. the brunette seemed to be thinking the same thing as she slyly looked at the boy from the corner of her eye. what Samantha didn't miss was the fact that Matthew was doing the same, thinking no one had seen him.
"when you took a million years?" Matthew said with a sarcastic smile.
Samantha laughed, "yeah sure. anyway, she was putting money away when i saw her and we kind of talked i guess then out of nowhere she just started kissing me." she said. although a lot of details were being left out, they weren't particularly important to the story. it didn't exactly affect the outcome of what happened, the kiss. the two teens looked just as shocked by her words, each of their eyes wide with eyebrows risen in complete and utter shock. even though it wasn't exactly the most shocking thing ever, they each knew at some point Samantha would wind up caving and talking to the blonde. the shocking part was the fact that Georgia had been the one initiating the kiss.
"you mean bootylicious kissed you?" Matthew asked mouth gaped. the scream stuffy was being squeezed in his embrace as a reaction of what he had heard.
Samantha nodded, "it surprised me too. then Max came in upset and Georgia went to console her and if i'm honest i was half expecting things to go down the way they did last time which is why i didn't tell you guys but she was the one who texted me and stuff." she explained.
"holy shit, my best friend is officially dating a milf" Matthew said with whilst nodding his head in shock.
Nia rolled her eyes at him, "not your best friend" she muttered.
"says who?" he quickly shot back, glaring at the girl. Samantha rolled her eyes at both of them.
"we aren't dating. it's just casual." she said hoping this was enough information for them to drop the subject. it wasn't that she didn't want to talk about it but she knew with Matthew in the conversation it would be an endless conversation of how she and the blonde were 'doing it'. before either of them could get a word in she grabbed her clothes and went to the bathroom so she could shower, only to realize both Matthew and Nia had both followed her in there and were shoving one another through the doorway.
she laughed, "what the hell? i have to shower" she said and put her clothes down on the counter top.
"we need more than 'we're just casual'" Matthew said. leaning his body against the sink with his arms crossed.
Nia nodded whilst pointing at him, "hate to say it but he's right."
"hey" the boy said obviously offended, Nia ignored him, still staring at her best friend whilst she awaited an answer.
Samantha sighed, "there isn't even much to say. we are just hanging out" she shrugged.
"is she a bottom? she gives me bottom vibes" Matthew said with a slightly amused smile.
the raven girl rolled her eyes at him, her nose scrunching, "why are you thinking about this?"
the boy shrugged sheepishly, "what? it's not like i'm the only one thinking it"
"you kind of are," Nia said looking at him.
"whatever"
"give me details, you usually always would" she said referring to not only Samanthas ex girlfriend but also the many hookups she had.
"there aren't details" Samantha said, "we've kissed a couple times but that's pretty much it." she shrugged.
Matthew looked quite disappointed to hear that, "that is so lame."
Samantha looked at him, her eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed, "okay now you are just being weird" she said toward him, "and i really do have to shower so can you both please get out." she said opening the door and motioning for them to leave.
Matthew held his hands up in surrender, "fine. fine, i will be saying the same when you guys ask about the girls i hook up with." he said before sending the older girl a glare. with that he walked out of the bathroom with Nia behind who was muttering something about him needing to chill out.
Samantha shook her head with a slight smile tugging at her lips as she closed the door behind them.
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windydrawallday · 23 days
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Long-PSA-short of sorts that's more a vent: I was always aware my behavior and way of expressing myself online can surprise many people, especially if they are not used to someone who uses the writing medium as a playful form to tell emotions in a very descriptive way as I do. I'm quite affectionate with words, yes. And I always beg people I hang with personally to let me know if some of that bothers them, curtly of course. So far there have been few instances of individuals confusing those signals with ulterior means, things I assure you there's nothing more than me being friendly and supportive.
Imagine idk an excited dog seeing its owner haha
Until the past week, I found myself being tackled by something that made me almost knock everything aside because it made me realize that probably I'm a walking trigger/squick inducer with even the way I wield words like "love" and "friendship".
Almost...
I'm pretty tolerant of whatever way people conduct themselves in this life, the only moment I flinch is when an individual assumes from my default behavior and presentation that I want to impose my way of life... And nopes.
This is simply how and who I am. Nothing more, nothing less. I don't search for conflict but for understanding. My language for expressing marvel and reflections is like this, never to make the other feel awkward or attacked.
So, it upset me knowing that by wielding this forever welcoming and lovable disposition, I can be something to fear and even despite... to some people.
But, you know? That means that my "love" and "friendship" lifestyle are not made for you, no reason to come back to me and point at it. Just keep walking if you have only rage and rejection to give as a reply to my point of view. Because by wielding rage and rejection, what you only do is burn bridges. To create conflict and assume imaginary antagonistic scenarios where there's nothing of that at all.
You can't create the world you wish to live in by burning bridges.
It took me a lot too to forge who I am right now. I even keep learning and chiseling through traumas and mistakes—kindness and patience taught me more than rage and rejection. And "love" and "friendship" are the bricks I chose to build those bridges. I know everyone else uses different concepts but in the end, we all build bridges. By creating bridges and inviting others to do the same, I expand not only my world, but the other's too!
Isn't that better than demanding to be this or that through a black/white flag of rage and rejection? I think so. And I understand perfectly we sometimes need to be blunt when marking our boundaries. Still, never justifies treating the other bad.
And if some of you find "fake" or distasteful the way I wear this flag of "love" and "friendship" I'm sorry: this place will never be safe for you then. The exit door is always open. Go ahead.
I hope you find your place and flags out there too, but don't forget that to do that you need to build bridges. If you don't want to call it "friendship" call it "glue" or whatever makes you comfortable, but don't kick people like me who fought with claws and teeth to reclaim those words and feelings.
Fight your fight by being a good example, not a bad experience that makes someone never want to deal with something like this again in their life.
"Any color you like, (in the end) they're all blue."
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Request:  fuegoleon nsfw fic with wife s/o who's really hot? Fuego has been really busy with work lately and s/o feels neglected and sadly tells him one day that she's the only one who wants him but he doesn't want her? And it kinda hits a switch in fue, because he just can't fathom his wife thinking that HE doesn't want her, and he goes feral? Overstim, breeding kink, Dom!Fuego Lots of adorable aftercare too of you're okay with it🥰
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A/N: Hiya! I got immersed into this while writing it, and it’s not 100% on with her telling him that she’s the only one wanting him, but the theme is there. This is also the hardest smut I’ve written to this day, I think, because while my Fuelara smut has been longer and more romantic, this is harder. Anyways, I do hope that you like it. And now I need a cold shower 🥵
Pairing: Fuegoleon x f!reader (written in 1st person POV)
Fanfic type: Oneshot
Genre: Smut, hurt-comfort
Length: ~3.0k
Warnings: smut, cunnilingus (reader receiving), vaginal sex, creampie, no mention of birthcontrol, overstimulation (reader receiving), breeding kink, one mention of face fucking but no actual act, implied cervix fucking, crude language (”fuck me”), reader and Fue and married (established relationship), Fue says “I love you” mid act, Dom!Fue, aftercare minors DNI
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It’s quiet. Well, if you don’t count the crickets. A part of me is surprised that there are already crickets at this time of the year, even if the summer is warm, which is why I have the window open in the first place. And another part of me is still glad that I can still hear them.
Another, much smaller, part. The part is muffled under the sigh that leaves my lips in an effort to relieve the restlessness in my body. But even if I wandered off from the open window, I’d find my way back to it soon enough I’m sure. Because the cool night air feels as if a caress against my skin.
A caress… that I crave for. The caress that I’ve longed for… for too many nights.
They say that the time your relationship is passionate is short, a few months, a year if you’re lucky, and then it starts to die down. I suppose I should say that I am luckier than most people then, granted that it took so long for us to get to this place. We had a good run… But that makes is sound like we would be heading for a divorce, which is far from the truth.
It’s not… bad… our relationship. It’s just more like a partnership. A business deal. And I could certainly do a lot worse, which argues against divorce.
Plus… I still love him.
And I hope… I hope that he still loves me. He says that he does, but the lack of touch, more than the generic hand on the shoulder in passing, speaks a different tale.
I hope that he loves me… and I hope that he still wants me.
There’s a thought that occurs to me, a very distasteful thought that makes me nauseous for a passing second.
But I know that he’s not the kind of a man to cheat on his wife. He’s not the type of a person to go behind one’s back and seek comfort in the arms of another.
I still love, and trust, my husband.
He’s simply a busy man, that’s all. And he is busy. There is a lot on his shoulders. I want to trust that, that’s all there is to it. I want to believe that he’s just tired… But there is not even a gaze to my direction anymore. Before, his busy schedule didn’t stop us. Though a long, sweaty night, or just a few hours of passionate, romantic love making was preferrable, a quicky was never out of the question.
And I swear, all the times I went down on him in his office, behind his desk, despite him feeling conflicted about doing such a thing in his office, he loved it. The way he smile, and the glimmer in his eyes told me that he drank it up like a starving man.
Besides, he never seemed all that … un-eager to do so. If anything, he seemed more concerned about my integrity than anything else. But we were married, and me going down on my husband was far from a scandalous thing. Though the rumours, and the noble circles might blow it out of proportions for some time, who cares? They can blow it out, and I can simply blow my husband.
Come to think of it…. How long has it been since the last time I went down on him?
How long ago was it that I last… satisfied myself?
It doesn’t feel right doing so in our bed, when he’s in deep slumber right there. And he could walk in on me in the shower, though I suppose that’s just wishful thinking.
I no longer know. All I do know is that it’s been long… far too long… And I have to wonder if he really does want me anymore… Because… though I’m only a few years younger than he is, maybe my body has changed away from his liking. Maybe I’m not… firm enough, perky enough, thin enough… Though I don’t think I have changed all that much since we met.
I… think…?
I don’t think I have changed that much. But maybe that’s just him losing his rose coloured glasses.
Maybe…
I sight to myself again as the loneliness I feel wraps around me as if a blanket, but that blanket just makes the warmth between my legs intensify and a knot form into my lower stomach which is trying to grasp onto something that isn’t there.
The door opens and closes behind me, and I hear another heavy sigh.
“My love? You didn’t need to stay up and wait for me,” his tone is warm and caring, but it is also tired.
I can’t blame him for it. I can’t blame him for being tired.
“I know….” I tell him as I walk away from the window and closer to him with my arms wrapped around myself, pressing the silken fabric of my nightgown against my skin even tighter. “And I know that you’re tired, but… there’s… something I want to talk to you about,” I admit, because this has gone for long enough. And there seems to be no end in sight to his schedule, so this night is as good as any.
“What is it?” He asks, and the question is fair. It’s frank, on point, and it is fair.
“I’ve… been… I’ve been wondering if…” I glance at the ceiling, because though this is hard, it’s a lot harder than I think. Because I don’t want to admit that I feel neglected. I don’t want to admit that I feel a yearning for him, even if I do. Though some time back I wouldn’t have as much as blinked about telling him that I want him.
Because I did. I do… I do want him.
“Yes?” His eyes are full of worry. There is a small frown on his face as he stands there, so close to me.
I can feel his warmth radiating through the air, and I can smell the faint scent of his lavender hair oil.
By gods how I miss that scent… I miss busying my nose into those auburn locks as his hands run over my body and I… miss him moving over mine, under mine… in mine…
I miss… him. All of him…
“Tell me, what’s wrong,” he implores again, this time with a tone that is both concerned and unwavering. He wants to know. He wants to know, because he cares. I know as much.
But it doesn’t make it any easier. However, regardless of whether it’s easy or not, I need to tell him. This is something that just needs to be discussed.
“I…” I utter while looking to the side. “I know that you’ve been busy lately, but I’ve…” I trail off again, because though that’s true, it’s only loosely connected to what I want to say.
So, I take a deep breath, and swallow, before whispering: “Do you… still… want me…?”
He takes a moment. But the moment, which must be no longer than a few seconds, feels much, much longer. It feels like an hour, a day, one fifth of an eternity.
“Do I still… want you?”
There is amusement in his tone. It is disbelieving amusement. It sounds like the question is absurd to him. Much more than to me.
“My love… Every night that you’re not next to me, I ache for you. Every day I long for you. And… I know that I’ve been tied to my job far too much as of late, it’s every day that I find myself craving for you.”
He takes a step closer to me. The warmth radiating through the air grows stronger, and I can hear his breathing growing lower, heavier… louder.
His hands take a hold of me…
“I crave… for you…” he whispers like sin, like the words that drip from his lips would be sweet like honey, decadent and filled with lust that he is feeling, just as me.
I turn to look at him, and I press closer to him, but that’s the last thing I realize before finding myself on our bed.
His frame, which is much broader than mine, is over me. His eyes, in the dim light of the bedroom, seem dark, like velvet, but the spark cast by the light of his flames, makes him seem hungry. It tastes like passion, feels like lust, and sounds decadent, like sin itself.
But I don’t mind the sin, not if it’s him.
I don’t mind the way he rips off my nightgown with an apology.
“I’ll buy you a new one…” he half whispers, half growls.
But I don’t mind.
I most certainly don’t mind.
I don’t mind as he pressed his head between my legs, and licksssss…
But it’s just a tiny, little kitten lick with the tip of his tongue.
I can still feel his breath gliding over me, over my clit, over my folds and his right there! But all he does is make the little lick that doesn’t satiate my hunger.
“Please…” I utter, but that’s when I realize that he’s just admiring me, because…
“You look gorgeous from every angle,” he tells me before pressing his mouth against my lower set of lips.
And he is hungry.
His tongue dances around, dips inside of and swirls around as my walls try to hold onto him. I try and I try as I clench the sheets in my fists. It’s been so long, and it feels so good… The way his tongue moves in and out and around in me…
And I want him in!
“Please!” I cry out to him and all he does is press his face harder against my folds as his fingers press harder against the tender flesh of my ass.
He hums, sending vibrations through me, and that’s when my toes curl and I see stars.
But that’s not enough for him.
I can feel his tongue licking around everything that flowed out of me with my orgasm, as he’s casing another high of mine.
His nose is pressed against my clit, and occasionally he flicks it with his tongue. And every time he does, I can’t help but mewl at him. Be-cause! Because… I need him, I want him, inside of me!
And his tongue isn’t enough. It is just not enough!
“Honey! I want-,” I manage through my pants, and I’m sure he can hear the desperation as my legs tremble. As they shake under him.
He lifts his head, and my hips jerk up, as if they’d crave for the touch as much as I do, and my legs open wider for him. Which makes his eyes glance down to my trembling, wet core, and then to my eyes as a smirk, a proud, grinning smirk frames those purple eyes that look like lust and velvet.
“I can’t… take this teasing anymore,” I tell him as my body is already on edge from the stimulation.
“Well…” he utters, looking pleased, and a bit smug, I have to admit. But then again he has every right to look as smug as he does, because he just make me cum for the 4th time tonight. “If you so wish,” he continues as he climbs on top of me and takes off his pants.
His cock is hard. It’s pointing upwards and the tip is oozing with precum.
It is twitching.
And it takes everything in my not to crawl down, shift down under him, against the sheets, and engulf that cock into my mouth.
He has never, properly, fucked my face, and he probably wouldn’t because he prefers me to be able to breathe. But if I did, that’d probably be the closest we’d get to it.
It might be, but I don’t have time to think about it more, as his cock is already sliding over my wet slit effortlessly, teasing my sensitive bundle.
I moan, and I gasp, but not in the way I would if he had inserted it.
He’s teasing me more, and as much as I love it, I hate it. Because this isn’t-, it’s not what I-
I don’t use crude vocabulary in bed. I don’t curse. And I’m bad at dirty talk, but…
“Fuck me,” I tell him.
His eyes open wider. He seems surprised by my words. But the surprise is quickly overtaken by more amusement.
“Breed me!” I tell him.
And he chuckles. He chuckles, but there is devilish intent in those eyes that stare down at me.
“You wish my seed to paint your insides that badly?” He asks with a smirk, and he has every right to smirk.
“Yes.”
And then he pushes in. With one. Swift. Motion.
My back arches, and I see stars again as I cum.
And through the white noise, through the sound of blood rushing in my ears, I hear him chuckle with a pleased sound. He is pleased. Because the way he has stimulated my body to this point, made it possible for me to cum with just him inserting himself inside of me.
“I’m going to cum inside of you,” he tells me, and I love that he tells me, that he whispers it against my ear with that low, sultry voice of his. “And then I’m going to…” he pauses, to choose the words, but instead of what I might expect, he chooses the words, the crude words that I chose a moment before. “I am going to… fuck you, with my sperm still inside of you.”
And by the gods, this man, this man who is my husband, who has talked so eagerly about starting a family with me, is driving me to oblivion in the best possible way.
He pushes in, and out, and in and out and I… loose track of how many times I cum. But when he pushes down once, and hard, and warmth spreads within me, the corners of my lips tug up because I know that he came.
He came and he’s still in me, plugging me up so that all of his seed stays inside of me.
“And now, my love…” he murmurs against my ear as his hand settles onto my cheek.
He lowers down, and pressed a kiss onto my lips. One, hard, passionate kiss…
And then his hand trails down to my neck… his big, broad hand that could wrap around my neck effortlessly… It trails down, and down, and down, until he scoops my legs and he presses me into a breeding press.
“I’m going to rid any loneliness from you,” he promises as his hips pump up. And. Down.
His hips slap against mine, as he pins me down. And his cock reaches all the way to my cervix. It’s like he wants to give it a French kiss.
And he can. He can. He can, he can, he can…
My walls clench around him, and I can feel my fluids mixing together with his between our legs. The damp, sticky feel that I don’t mind.
I don’t mind.
I don’t think to mind.
Because I’m focused on every groove, every vein of his cock as he slams in, and out, and back in me again. The way my body clenches around him, trying to keep a hold of him. Desperately tries to embrace him as he slides out, and then back to me again.
Drool drips from the side of my face as my eyes roll back, and all I can think is the building ecstasy in me.
His breathing rings next to my ear, and it’s growing unsteady. And still…
“I love you…” he murmurs, nearly growls as he slams his hips against mine for one… last, time, pressing himself against my cervix.
My toes curl, and my fingers press against the skin of his back so hard as I scream out his name while coming undone under him.
I can feel my body twitching from the pure bliss. Trying to clasp onto him again. But I’m also growing relaxed as I’m coming around from the orgasm.
He pulls out and lays down next to me as his fingers trail over my skin with a feather light touch. His eyes are on me, looking around, trying to spot any signs of discomfort while simultaneously admiring me.
I turn to my side while catching my breath, and snuggle close to him, against his chest.
“Are you alright, my love?” He asks as his fingers draw circles onto my back; his words cascading onto me like a dawn, like silk and every good thing in the world.
“Yes,” I tell him, while still trying to gasp for air, but there is a smile on my face.
He leans down to place a kiss onto my head before laying down properly next to me, head on the pillow. His eyes are still looking over me, but now the gaze is filled with almost only admiration, no searching for signs of discomfort. Because there aren’t any.
Only those of fulfilment.
He still loves me, and wants me. Just as I still love and want him.
And even when I close my eyes, I can still feel him lying there, his hand carefully tracing over my skin. He’s so close, so very close that I can almost feel his heart beating for me through the air.
But the thing is, I know that it’s there without feeling it. I had simply forgotten it. I had forgotten how he, how this stern, loyal, loving and caring man is when he is in love.
Now I remember, and I never intend to forget again.
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ryuichirou · 6 months
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Thanks for feeding us neigevil fans. I love your art so seeing you drawing this ship makes me happy, may the gods of twst gacha be kind to you 🥰
Idk if anyone has asked but thoughts or headcanons of neigevil? What about Rollo?
(We got this ask after this art)
Thank you so much for showing our stuff so much love, NeigeVil fans <3 It means a lot! And I, once again, am sorry that it took me a long time to reply. Like I’ve probably mentioned before, I want to draw these two again at some point. But today is not the day; instead, today is the day you get your headcanons, Anon!
Also if you haven’t seen these yet, here is the link to our post with Rollo-centric headcanons. We love this boy very much, and we’re super excited that he got himself a pretty-looking card.
Alrighty, so Neige/Vil…
Neige has a crush on Vil, and this crush has been with him ever since their first meeting. But he isn’t really sure about the nature of these feelings. He is very open about them with his dwarf friends though: sometimes he comes back from work happy and singing because he met Vil after his photoshoot and had a chat with him. So they all know that he is either in love or just really really really wants to be Vil’s friend. Neige isn’t sure which one it is either.
Neige remembers how cool and professional Vil looked when they first met, how he shook his hand and stuff. It wasn’t Vil’s first time on set, even though it was his first role, so he really made Neige feel comfortable by just being so confident and relaxed and excited. Neige really treasures this memory, but Vil doesn’t seem to remember much of it.
But what Vil does remember is that he thought they were going to become friends back then. Maybe it was because Neige asked him to be his friend, maybe it was because they had a lot of fun that day, but unfortunately it was one of many potential friendships that got ruined by the adults comparing these two to each other. It was pretty early on when Vil decided that he’d never be Neige’s friend. Neige is kind of oblivious to this whole thing though, he thinks that Vil is his friend, and the main reason he’s so distant is that he is just way too cool and professional and busy to hang out with him.
Vil has influenced Neige’s style a lot. He has no idea just how much time Neige spends looking at his magicam and taking notes and trying very hard to find clothes that would look as if Vil has picked them for him. If you talked to him about it, he would chuckle and say that he is too shy to ask Vil directly.
Which isn’t a complete truth though: he isn’t really shy around Vil. He gets so excited that he forgets about his shyness entirely and starts talking and clinging to Vil and trying to make him pay attention to him. He is completely enamored and he stares a lot at him in general. He really wishes they’d spend more time together…
A lot of times Vil just rolls eyes at Neige (always sneakily though, he knows better than to show a fellow actor his distaste for him), but he does admire his professionalism. And yes, there are moments when he thinks that Neige isn’t just overly cute and sweet, but actually quite a good-looking guy. Not entirely his type, but still handsome nonetheless…. Why is he thinking about it, again?
Vil is, like I mentioned, oblivious about Neige’s feelings. If anything, he believes that Neige is simply being a nice innocent boy and is friendly with everyone, so there isn’t anything special about the way he treats Vil. But jokes on you, Vil, because every single selfie with you that Neige takes instantly become Neige’s phone lock screen for weeks, until his management asks him to change it into something else.
Neige doesn’t have a lot of selfies with Vil though, because Vil always comes up with an excuse to avoid it. He is either in a hurry, or doesn’t feel good, or has a bad hair day, there’s always something that prevents Neige from taking a selfie with Vil. So it’s kind of a personal mission for Neige at this point lol Their fanbases also crave for this selfie… The day NeigeVil finally drop a picture of them together, the internet is going to explode.
A couple of spicy ones; if these two were to find themselves in any kind of intimate situation (even if it’s just a pretend thing for a role or something), Neige would comment about how much more experienced Vil is, and how he’ll work hard to be on his level. This comment sounds horrible to Vil in any context: the idea of Neige working hard to be a perfect lover to him is too cursed to consider. But it’ll still make him blush.
And jokes on Vil once again, because Neige is such a fast learner, that one moment he is a very sloppy kisser, and then suddenly he kisses and touches his body in all the right places because “he just felt like it’d make Vi-kun feel nice there”. Vil is going to both get overwhelmed by how good it feels, and be in agony because fuck you Neige stop being a prodigy at everything.
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sonofthesaiyans · 1 year
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So it’s come to my attention.....
Apparently there are elements of the Eremika fandom out there that really cannot stand to see their favorite ship called out for the flagrantly toxic pairing that it has slowly devolved into. For one stubborn faction out there in the AOT fandom, Eremika still reigns supreme. 
You know, even after.......
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Yeah. Even after this, there are fans out there who still want these two together. Fans who refuse to hear out that these two truly never had a chance due to their clashing priorities and personalities.......And the fact that Eren was revealed to be a sociopathic POS the entire time (That’s still a fucked up twist, I don’t care how you try to rationalize the ending). 
In light of a recent incident where I came under attack for expressing my growing distaste for this “couple”, I just want to set one thing straight. 
This is most definitely NOT a Pro-Eremika blog. This is NOT a place where you’ll find me empathizing with this idea any more than you’ve ever seen me take pity on that bitch Gabi Braun. That is simply not the case here. 
It should not be news to anybody that Eremika in more recent time is blamed for holding back Mikasa’s character growth, and I am in the crowd that firmly believes it stunted her badly as a character who truly could exist on her own without Eren as a crutch. And it pisses me off to say that because Mikasa was my initial favorite of the series. 
This ship is emotionally abusive. Eren never regarded Mikasa with much more than passing acknowledgement and any time where she voiced her affection for him, it left negligible impact on him. They may have been heavily reliant on each other in battle but the relationship is entirely from Mikasa’s side, NOT Eren’s. And the fact that he manipulated her and all his allies to kill billions is somehow not a dealbreaker for either herself OR the fans who stand by it.....
Wow, why not we go back to that forgotten time where we shipped Mikasa with Levi? (Thankfully I was too late to the game for that one) Next I suppose someone will suggest I invest myself in Fucking Falco and Garbage Braun. And yes, I will get back to my actual opinions on Falco later, as I earlier hinted....
A lot of people think I’m harsh in my opinions and my attitude......
And, you’re not wrong. 
But that doesn’t mean I can’t freely express my opinions, and the most recent time I expressed my opposition to Eremika, I think I was being fairly tame in my comments. 
So if someone wants to give my shit because I spoke ill of their favorite pairing, to you I say this.....
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Yeah I don’t care if you disapprove, and I don’t like fans who try to control what I say because I simply expressed disagreement, and certainly not with anybody on a personal level in this instance until they tried to order me around. 
Over a bloody anime pairing, and certainly not one that should be taken as a case of a healthy relationship. 
This place is most definitely not one you’re gonna like if you’re a hardcore Eremika fan. Sorry, but if you wanna be salty with me over that, you’re wasting your time. This is why I don’t involve myself with shipping, it makes fans CRAZY. And I hate to see what kind of relationships these fans want in life if Eremika is their OTP. 
So no, there’s no haven for Eremika around here, don’t like it? Look another direction. I’m not an Eremika shipper. By now anyone who’s been here for five minutes should understand I ain’t a fucking Eren fan any more than I am a fan of Gabi or that goddamn ending. And right now I can only can Mikasa a pitiful waste of potential. Because of Eremika. 
Not looking for trouble with Eremika fans, but you keep it to yourself, I want no part of it. This is not a blog for Eremika, and if you see the occasional Eremika criticism, not the end of the fucking world. 
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ddejavvu · 2 years
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I am a huge cycling fan, and tour de France just finish today. And it got me thinking..what if Hotch gets all self conscious about himself not being as fit as he once was, when he finds out his (younger) girlfriend have a soft spot for cyclists. And she have to show him just how much she loves him and his soft tummy and bring held in his strong arms.
send me some blurb requests!
--
It wasn't often that Aaron gave into his insecurities. They were always there, lingering in the back of his mind, waiting to jump out and ruin his day, but he usually kept them there, fighting them back simply because he had other things to do than worry.
Not this time, though.
He'd seen your rapt attention focused on the television, cyclists pouring through the countryside on their bikes. You had watched it so excitedly, in a trance from what he presumed were the impressive physiques of the cyclists themselves.
A physique which he did not have. He used to, he used to be young and fit and toned, but as he went up in years, he went up in size, and he found his stomach soft in front of the bathroom mirror.
Not only soft, but scarred. Nine stab wounds to the torso weren't easily forgotten, mentally or physically, and he realized with a disdainful glance at himself that he was no longer young, fit, or toned.
And of course, the one day he gave into his insecurities, you happened to catch him in the act. You pushed open the bathroom door, intent on grabbing a headband to use while you washed your face, and found him shirtless in front of the mirror, his jeans unbuttoned to give himself the full view of his stomach.
He immediately looked away from you, though he could only see your reflection in the mirror. He didn't want to see you, didn't want to analyze your expression and pick out the loathing from it, the judgement, the distaste.
He scrambled for his shirt that was folded neatly on the counter, but he didn't get it over his head before you stopped him.
"Aaron," You spoke, your voice tentative, "Any reason you're glaring at your reflection?"
"I'm not glaring," He laughed carefully at you, feigning confusion as he tried maneuvering your hand off of his arm so that he could slip his shirt on, "How was the race?"
Your hand tightened around his arm, "Stop."
He let out an exasperated sigh, berating himself for not being a better liar. His arms slumped to his sides, taking his shirt with them and leaving him bare-chested before you.
He watched you, waiting for you to speak like a scorned child. If he had any less control over his emotions, there would have been tears brimming in his dark eyes.
"The race was okay." You brushed away a clump of fuzz from the t-shirt that had landed on his stomach, "Missed you, though. You should come and watch with me."
Aaron didn't like watching the races. He didn't like seeing you fawn so continuously over men that looked like he did 20 years ago. He didn't like seeing you not attracted to him.
"Maybe next time." He supplied weakly.
"You mean next year?" You raised an eyebrow at him, "Please, Aaron, just tell me what's wrong."
"They.." He chose his words carefully, "They're very fit. The cyclists."
"Mm-hmm," You nodded slowly, starting to catch on, "And?"
"And you like them. A lot." He clarified, his eyes downcast to the shaggy rug below his feet.
"I like you a lot too," You remind him, slipping your hands into his, "Like, a lot."
"But I'm not- Listen. I know that I.. leave a lot to be desired. Physically. Like, my body." He was rambling, tripping over his words as they tumbled out of his mouth. They dragged your brows down into a deep frown, a grouchy pout on your face as you chided him.
"Don't say that."
"But I-"
"Don't. Say. That."
Aaron had faced homicidal psychopaths, serial killers on the loose, child molesters holding their victims hostage, and more terrors that he couldn't even begin to list. But never had he faced anything as scary to him as the look on your face.
"I love you, Aaron, all of you. If i wanted someone more fit, don't you think I would have tried making moves on someone else by now? I see Derek at least once a week for the little dinners you guys host," You point out, "And you haven't seen me checking him out, have you?"
He looked down instead of answering you, but you let his hands go, taking his cheek in your palm to turn it back towards you. Your other hand braced itself against his tummy, the pliant skin soft under your fingers.
"Have you?" You ducked slightly to make eye-contact with him, and he shook his head, his lips twitching in their surly frown.
"I love your body." You stated simply, pinching his stomach lightly between your fingers, "I love laying on your tummy, and kissing it until you let out that little giggle of yours."
He blushed scarlet at your mention of his laugh, one that was rarely heard outside of any ticklish situations, "And I love your arms," You let go of his stomach, squeezing his bicep, "I mean, holy shit, Aaron, these are fantastic."
He let out a bashful chuckle at your praise, "Thank you, Y/N. I'm sorry you have to.. I'm sorry you have to do this for me."
"I don't have to." You reminded him, "I want to."
"Why do you want to?"
You stared at him blankly for a moment, then quick as a flash, leaned down to sink your teeth into the bare skin of his bicep. He yelped indignantly, and you mumbled around his arm, "'Cause I get to do this!"
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rohirric-hunter · 2 months
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A phrase that basically revolutionized my online interactions is, "It's the Lord of the Rings to them."
Let me explain. The Lord of the Rings is very important to me. So important, in fact, that I've kind of lost my sense of humor about it. Satire that plays off of it is at best uninteresting and at worst offensive; congratulations, you noticed the low-hanging fruit and bad pun that is Bored of the Rings, a pair of smarmy comedians long since beat you to it and their sense of humor sucked too, let me block you real quick. A lot of jokes regarding it strike me as distasteful, when in reality they're just jokes made by someone who casually enjoyed it, instead of shaping their entire personality around it like I did. Often when I express these frustrations people mistake this as me perceiving these people to not like it; this is not strictly true. I understand that they like it, but am bothered that they don't like it enough, or in the right way. "Tolkienesque" is a terrible word, as are other words that are on the surface level based on ideas from Tolkien's work but actually describe very different concepts from the ones they claim, such as "treant."
I'm working on my behavior with regards to these perceptions but that's not the point of this post. The point of this post is that the root cause of these perceptions is an overwhelming obsession with LotR that ends up inserting rather absurd bias into the most innocuous of interactions surrounding it. Mind that by "the most innocuous" I do not mean all interactions. I mean the most incidental interactions. Ones that involve low-effort jokes, questions about the story's logic that indicate a surface-level reading of it, dumb parodies, and people borrowing concepts from it simply because it's a behemoth in fantasy that most people are at least passingly familiar with.
A number of years ago I encountered a series of posts on here wherein someone was ranting about Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (a book they had, by their own admission, not read). They tore apart the whole concept, swore up and down that it was the most disrespectful thing ever to disgrace Jane Austen, it was horrible, trashy, disrespectful that anyone would ever even think of turning such a great novel into a cheap horror story like that. (It's actually a genre comedy but I digress.)
I actually started to type up a response to them, that went something along the lines of: Hold up. You're taking this way too personally. You haven't even read it. Yes, it's overbearing and dumb in the first few chapters but let's be fair, so is Pride and Prejudice. It doesn't really pick up until after the Gardener's ball. You can't judge any book by the first few chapters. And the genre shift is actually really well done and emotionally satisfying as well as funny; the characters remain well characterized throughout and the different situation they find themselves in just shines a different spotlight on the themes of the story. As you get well into it you can really see how the author loved the original, and yeah it started an annoying fad of P&P genreshifts, but you can't blame it for that any more than you can blame the Hunger Games for modern YA. Sure, it has a few more dick jokes than I would like, but --"
And that's where I stopped, because suddenly it occurred to me that whoever this person was, they weren't going to care about any of those arguments. Nothing I could say would persuade them that it wasn't a big deal, actually, because to them it was. It was the Lord of the Rings to them. Pride and Prejudice, or perhaps Jane Austen's work in general, meant to them the same thing that the Lord of the Rings meant to me, and some idiot on the internet who read and enjoyed Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, of all things, was never ever going to convince them of anything at all with regards to those works. And, like, I disagree of course, but I get it. Where the thought is coming from. How can you improve on perfection? Why would you want to? The actual disconnect is whether or not any individual thinks of Pride and Prejudice (or the Lord of the Rings) as "perfection," but, like, why would you even want to get into that argument? Best case scenario, you're being annoying. Worst case scenario, you're actively trying to make someone hate something that they live and breathe.
So I deleted my response and moved on with my day and honestly I wasn't even mad about it. Sure, whoever this was could probably do with a little bit more self-awareness with regards to their own bias, but I certainly wasn't going to be the one to give them that. They'll come to it on their own. Or they won't. Either way, I can only make the situation worse by engaging. And since then I honestly try to live by that every time I see someone online taking something way too personally. I don't always succeed, but I try. It's stupid, it's bizarre, they're making mountains out of molehills, whatever, who cares. Take a deep breath. It's the Lord of the Rings to them. Let them have it, move on.
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skittish1807 · 10 months
Text
The Seventh Mistake - Chapter Two
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Sebastian Sallow x f!Reader; Garreth Weasley x f!Reader
Word Count: 2.5k 
Content Warnings: Angst, Pining, Drinking, Language 
Overall Work Summary: Sebastian has a lot of time on his hands these days. Plenty of time to reflect on all the mistakes he made with her… He was pretty sure he had made his final mistake. It had been three years since he last saw her. Any opportunity to fix things had died long ago. Until one day, when she unexpectedly strolled back into his life. Will he be able to fix his mistakes or is he just going to continue to make a mess of everything?
Now, she's engaged? And to a Gryffindor, no less.
A/N: I still cannot decide how I want this to end. It is most definitely a toss up at the moment! One day I just want to make Sebastian as miserable and mopey as possible and the next I can't bring myself to do it. So, there will certainly be angst in the future and lots of it.
ICYMI: Here is a link to Chapter 1. Also available on Ao3 here.
Chapter 2 - Sebastian
I didn’t hate Garreth Weasley. Not really, anyway. Hate is too strong of a word. Loathe? No, that is not quite right either.  Maybe a mild distaste? Yes, that feels closer. Physically unable to bear his presence without wanting to jab my own eyes out? That’s it! That is probably the most accurate representation of my feelings towards Weasley. 
He was a nice enough guy. At least, he was when we were in school. I really had no idea what he was like anymore. Although, we had been closer friends when we were younger. We had both been permanent fixtures in detention together. So, I had spent a fair bit of time with him up until sixth year. 
During sixth year, I pretty much stopped getting into trouble. I kind of stopped living. I just went through the motions. I ate, went to class, fretfully laid in bed wishing sleep would overtake me and I watched her. 
I don’t remember the exact moment when my easy friendship with Weasley eroded into contempt. I imagine it was probably about the time he started getting closer to her. 
Jealousy is an awful thing. Isn’t it?
I should have seen this engagement coming. Not necessarily her ending up with Weasley. She could do better. But what did I actually expect?  That a girl as astounding as her would end up alone? Like me? Ugh… I swear I am such an idiot!  
I am quiet for far too long after she says his name. My eyes never leave hers. I don’t quite understand the expression on her face. Her eyes are wide and there appear to be tears pooling in them. I can’t interpret it. It almost seems like heartbreak. Maybe panic? But that cannot be right. Why would she be experiencing either of those feelings when telling me about her fiancé? Maybe it was more like she had seen a ghost from her past. One she had thought that she had exercised long ago. That was probably it.
Imelda finally broke the silence. “Well, okay…. While this is soooo much fun, we are going to go grab a table over there.” She pointed to the back corner over by the fireplace. “Be a dear and bring us some firewhiskey.” She said it as a command not a request. Merlin, she was so fucking annoying…
Poppy and Imelda each grabbed one of her arms and slowly turned her from the bar and led her to the table in the back corner. She held my gaze until they had her completely turned around and had her walking in the opposite direction. Poppy reached up on her tiptoes and whispered something in MC’s ear. I thought I heard Poppy say something about leaving, but I couldn’t make out what it was. MC simply looked at Poppy and shook her head. 
Ugh… What is wrong with me? Get it together, Sallow. I’ve had years to get over this girl. YEARS! I thought I was doing better than this. Apparently, I was so very wrong. All she has to do is walk into a room and I turn into an utter mental mess. As much as I would like to blame someone… anyone really. I can usually find someone else to blame my problems on. I have no one to blame but myself for the predicament I find myself in. I am the one that disappeared on her. She moved on. I knew this already.  
The girls continued to speak in hushed tones. I wished desperately that I could hear what they were saying, but they were just out of earshot. Every once in a while, one of them would shoot a glance my way. Ooohhh, they were discussing me….
I poured the three glasses of firewhiskey and placed them on a tray and carried them over to their table. I hadn’t been using my magic as much. Ever since the events of the catacomb, I had just used it sparingly. My day to day life now requires very little magic and I am just fine with that.
As I approached, the girls fell oddly silent. Yep, I was most definitely the topic of their conversation. 
She met my eyes again. Merlin, I am going to drive myself insane looking at her. She still didn’t say anything to me.  I can’t blame her. How many times did I stare at her blankly without saying a word. If she never spoke to me again, it would be what I deserved.  
Luckily, or rather unluckily, Imelda broke the silence. “Sallow! Hello! Will you give us our drinks now? She snapped her fingers in front of my face. 
Gods, I detest Imelda.
I passed their drinks out, one to each of them. As soon as I placed MC’s down, she was quick to grab it and throw it back. I raised my eyebrows. I was fairly impressed. She barely even flinched. 
I remember a time in our fifth year when Ominis snuck a bottle of firewhiskey back to school from home after Christmas. The three of us had sat in the undercroft taking turns drinking out of the bottle. She couldn’t drink it without wrinkling her nose and making a gagging noise. I thought it was just about the damned cutest thing I had ever seen. That was one of the many nights I thought about kissing her. Ominis had fallen asleep on the settee that we had conjured earlier that year. She and I were sitting on the floor with our backs resting against it. We were talking about foolish things and giggling. She had actually asked me if I would still be her friend if she was turned into a worm. What a ridiculous question, but I answered it all the same. Of course, I would. I would build her an enclosure so that she could live in our room.  
I felt myself getting closer and closer to her. It seemed as if she was leaning more toward me with each passing moment. Each giggle brought her closer. I noticed her hand was lying on the ground next to my thigh. I thought to myself that I should just grab it! I was too chicken to be that direct though. I ended up dropping my hand near hers. My hand brushed hers. She stopped giggling and met my eyes. I took her wrist in my hand and used my thumb to caress the back of her hand. I could feel her leaning toward me. I began to lean toward her as well. Our lips were almost touching. Her breathing had quickened and I felt my heart pounding. Just before our lips met, Ominis unleashed the loudest, most abhorrent snore that I had ever heard. He always had perfect fucking timing. She and I looked at each other and began giggling again.
I looked at her now. I guess things change. 
“Would you like another one?” I asked her.
She nodded her head.
“I will be right back then.” I turned to walk back to the bar to get her a second drink.
I returned to her table with her second drink. I placed it in front of her. She didn’t immediately grab it this time. 
Poppy turned to look at me. “Sebastian! It is so good to see you! It’s been ages!” 
Poppy was always overly cheerful. But I rather liked her in spite of it.
“It has, Poppy. Three years I believe.”
MC muttered under her breath. “Five actually, if you count the last time you spoke to me.” 
My eyes cut over to hers. It was the most she had said since she walked in here.
Poppy ignored her. “What on Earth are you doing here? I thought I had heard you were offered a position at the ministry after graduation?” The implied question was what in the hell was I doing working as a bartender in Hogsmeade.
I smiled at Poppy. “Actually, I was. I was offered a job as a curse breaker. I turned it down though.”
MC’s eyes shot to mine. “That was your dream!” 
“I had a lot of dreams then. None of them worked out. What is one more not going my way? Sirona offered me a job here and I took it. I didn’t want to return to Feldcroft.” I shrugged.
MC looked down at her lap.
Imelda rolled her eyes. “Way to be a downer, Sallow.”
I gave Imelda an even more exaggerated eye roll from the one she gave me. “Wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t a downer.” I turned and walked away from the girls.   
More customers had begun filtering in as the late afternoon turned into evening. I had brought the girls another round of drinks. But I was busy with other customers. So, I wasn’t paying close attention to them. 
Then the front doors of the pub swung open, banging noisily into the walls. In strode none other than Garreth Weasley and the annoying twats he called friends, Leander Prewett and Eric Northcott. Fucking Gryffindors. Always being loud and showy for absolutely no fucking reason. 
Weasley looked around the pub looking for what I can only assume is MC. He finally noticed me. The look of shock on his face was priceless. I pointed toward the back corner. He nodded and headed back to the table of girls. 
I think my evening just got a whole lot worse.
As he approached the table, he walked behind MC and placed a kiss on the top of her head. She raised her head up to look at him and met him with the most breathtaking smile. 
The sight of him kissing her made my stomach curdle. I realize now that she used to look at me like that. I remember it clearly. Maybe she had returned my feelings at one point. But I fucked that for sure. 
Weasley and the other Gryffindors sat at the table with the girls. Leander leaned back in his chair and shouted (at a completely unnecessary volume mind you) “Hey Sallow! Bring us a round of drinks. Whatever the girls are having is fine.” He then turned back to the table and said rather loudly, “What the fuck is Sallow doing here? Not so special anymore is he? He obviously peaked in school!”
Poppy swatted Leander’s arm and MC gave him a disapproving look. Imelda mouthed “I know!” Which caused her to receive the same disapproving look from MC. “He’s not wrong,” Imelda said.
I turned my back to them and rolled my eyes. Always so fucking loud.
I prepared their drinks and returned to their table. They had shuffled seats. Weasley was now sitting next to her with his arm around the back of her chair. She shifted uncomfortably when she saw me approaching.
Merlin, this was going to be a long night.
No one at that table seemed to be paying attention to how quiet she had become. They were too busy chatting amongst themselves. I noticed though. I did catch her peeking in my direction a few times. She quickly averted her eyes when I did. It made me smirk.
Weasley did lean in and check on her every now and then. He would plant a kiss on her cheek or run his fingers through her hair. She seemed to relax when he would do that. It just made me feel ill. 
If I hadn’t been a fool that could have been me. Whatever. 
I tried to ignore them. I served them several more rounds of drinks. I think she was on her sixth one at this point. She had to be feeling the effects. 
The other customers began to leave for the evening. Soon it was just down to their table and one other. They had become increasingly loud. (If that was even possible.) So loud now that I didn’t even have to focus on them to be able to hear their conversations.
I learned that the wedding was scheduled for two months from now. It had been a relatively short engagement. They had been dating since the middle of seventh year though. Leander had a new girlfriend, which honestly shocked me. How he could find someone to tolerate him is beyond me. 
Poppy started bouncing in her seat. “Oh this is all just so exciting! You both are the first to get married! Next will be babies!” She was practically squealing.
Oh Gods! The thought of her having Weasley’s children was disgusting. 
Weasley got a huge smile on his face. “Damn right babies are next! I intend to get started on that right away!”
I literally gagged. It was loud. Everyone at the table turned to look at me. Shit. I pretended to busy myself with something behind the bar. I did glance up at MC though. 
Her face was pale, she looked sick and her smile was gone. 
Everyone turned back their focus to the table, continuing the talk of Weasley and MC’s future babies. What they would look like. How many they would have. Weasley proposed some ridiculous number, like seven or eight. I just rolled my eyes.
“Ooooohhh, I bet they will have Garreth’s red hair,” Poppy exclaimed.
Imelda, as charming as she ever was, said, “I hope they don’t get the freckles.”
Poppy blurted, “MC obviously has an attraction to freckles!” She nodded Weasley’s direction while pointing her thumb over her shoulder towards me.
Everyone at the table got quiet and Poppy threw her hand over her mouth. 
I looked up toward their table and noticed that MC was staring right at me. She didn’t avert her gaze when I made eye contact. She definitely looked wild and panicked. I could recognize that from across the bar.  
She got up abruptly. Her chair almost fell over as she did. Weasley caught it. She said, “I just need some air for a minute.” 
Weasley spoke, “Hold on, I will come with you.” 
“No, I am fine, thank you.” MC almost ran out the front door of the pub. 
What the hell was that about? I watched her leave. The table looked at each other and shrugged and then continued their conversation. 
This was one of those moments. One that I might look back on in five years and wish that I had swerved right instead of turning left. I could feel it. I had two choices here. I could stand here and do nothing or I could follow her. Talk to her. Do what I should have done years ago. 
I decided to swerve right.
I am not going to look back and think that this was the moment that I made my seventh mistake.
Chapter 3 is out now!
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theambitiouswoman · 8 months
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Hello sis I hope you’re fine and that this message finds you well
I really really really love your content. It is so amazing and he helps me so much.
I’m coming to you because I am always in the high end, places where there, those rich men and I feel like it is difficult for them to come to me there, so how do I do to go to them in a nice way, so that we can start speaking to each other
How do I do that point of contact with them?
Because that’s not just about men it is also about networking, so I really need help on that
Thanks for reading.
Hi angel :)
Thank you so much for being here!
Okay so you are in the right places but you are not really meeting people. I am going to give you some suggestions. I don't know which you do or don't do currently. So maybe try incorporating what applies.
Look the part. Make sure your style fits in aesthetically with everyone else. If you are under dressed, they know you wont belong. You have to show them you deserve to be there too. (I can write tips on this in s separate post if need be.) Grooming included. Make sure your nails and hair are done. TRUST ME people notice.
Don't only focus on talking to guys, especially if the main reason you're there is for networking. This is also obvious and looks not only distasteful, but it can make people respect you less. If you want to fit in, make sure to connect with the women too. When you talk to them, remember to be polite, charming and focus the conversation on them. Try to find common interests in the conversation and focus on that. Make sure you truly like and care about this thing. If you don't, it will be obvious.
Show confidence and pride in who you are. When you feel good and proud about how you look and what you've achieved, it will be clear in how you act and talk. This also matters when it comes to getting the attention of good guys. You probably already know that people like being around those who are happy with themselves. By showing that you're proud of who you are, you're telling everyone that you feel sure of yourself and deserve their notice.
Being kind and graceful is also super important for any woman. it will show in your aura. Treating yourself, others, and the world around you with kindness can help you feel more sure of yourself and strong, which will attract guys who like positive vibes. No matter what you choose, just make sure it lets your inner beauty shine through.
Read the room with and be observant of others. As you are scanning the room or walking around the venue, make eye contact, walk tall and SMILE :) This way you will look more approachable, confident and open to interactions. Remember, guys often observe a woman before they decide to talk to her. If they see you being unfriendly, they might decide not to approach you at all. It's like they're crossing your name off the list before you even get a chance.
Meeting people might seem tough, but it's actually quite simple. Just say hi and introduce yourself to those nearby. When you're around unfamiliar faces, reach out to the people next to you, shake hands, and say, "Hi, I'm..." It's a small step, yet lots of folks find it hard. Try doing this a few times during the evening. You'll be amazed at how nice people can be when you take the first step. And remember, the more folks you meet, the better your chances of finding the right guy. I would personally try to find something I like about the person that I can compliment or find a similar interest I can bring up " I noticed that you...". Alternatively, you can simply bring up something that's going on around you "Is it always this busy on Tuesdays ?!.."
Don't spend your time going after guys who aren't interested in you, and don't keep chasing them after you've shown your interest. You've already let them know you're interested. The pursuit is what keeps their attention. If you're always available, there's no challenge, and guys might lose interest. It's good to be approachable, but you also don't want to seem too simple or uncomplicated.
Certain type of men look for certain type of women. It is important you reflect that. ( I can write a separate post on this as well as I don't think anyone on this platform even talks about this lol )
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oohbuggypie · 2 months
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it's both my God given right and duty to never shut up so i am going 2 not be quiet about BullDon 🫡 putting all text ("analysis", fanfic reccs, general rambling) under a read more so those who don't gaf can scroll easy 🩷 HERE WE GO !!
(all fanfics and their respective author are linked within their titles 🩷)
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K WHERE DO I START . their dynamic, past the obvious matador and bull trope, is so interesting to me. i think that their backgrounds have so many similarities; Don is a matador and is shown to have hundreds of people gathered in a stadium to watch his match, and Bull is watched relentlessly by the paparazzi. but they both have very different reactions to the fame and attention they receive. Don soaks it up and Bull can't stand it, and i think it contributes to their odd, almost mirror dynamic a lot
past that is their personalities and ethics,, both of them are SO full of themselves i actually almost forget, with Bull only being slightly more humble (cuz he can't exactly brag about his looks 😭) . Don is more prideful than he is cocky imo; but he's VERY expressive of his anger and distaste for losing, which makes him kind of paralell to my idea of Bull. though this follows more of a headcanon of mine and not whats in the game, i think Bull is really calm outside his persona in the ring (i.e his intermissions,,, he's being friendly if anything with Doc and he speaks so calm and low in Title Defense). unlike Don, he's shown actually building endurance and managing his emotions compared to his Contender cutscnene, essentially the OPPOSITE of Don, who only gets more sour and negative after he loses. i think in that aspect they're complete opposites but that switch makes their dynamic and relationship so much more complex to me
in the ring i think they share the factor of channeling their anger to help them succeed; Don is stronger when he's pissed at his missing toupee and Bull is .. Bull ? the Bull charge and his gut punch in Title Defense are very telling if his entire character isn't about how genuinely angered that man can be and i think that gives them a more complex element to how they'd work together; they're both sour and ugly about being perceived/looked at (more literally) in a way they don't want to, so that's just another thing that i find so interesting .. they have a BUNCH in common yet they're drastically different when you look at their characters generally
K NOW FANFIC RAMBLE TIME 🩷
Suficiente:
if anybody knows the author DetectiveCapan from AO3 personally im so dead srs when i say u should message them and praise them. i could not stfu about their BullDon writing and im not going to in a paragraph or two here but OH MY GODD. i have always avoided both actual books and fics alike that are written choppy and simplistic, and especially ones that lack atmosphere simply cuz they're just unappealing and hard to make me feel what's actually going on. but their BullDon trilogy ?? somehow their style of writing, which doesn't use complex words or long sentences packed with detail, is genuinely some of my favorite that i have EVERR read . they make the emotions the characters are feeling SO easy to understand and feel even without exaggerated expressions and dramatic descriptions it's actually kind of incredible ? and the bit of humor isn't overbearing, it's just silly and it sets up the atmosphere, which never ends up terribly serious. they write relationships with a familiarity in the atmosphere and actions that have been unachievable in any other piece of fiction ive read and the gestures omg .. IM GONNA BE SPECIFIC IN MY RECCS SO YOU'LL HEAR MORE ABOUT IT BUT OMGG. DETECTIVECAPAN IF U SEE THIS BLESS UR HEART SERIOUSLY UR AN AMAZING AUTHOR 🩷🩷 PLEASE KEEP DOING WHAT U DO UR WONDERFUL AND I'D LOVE 2 SEE MORE OF UR WORK ABT BULLDON / PUNCH OUT!! WII IN GENERAL 🥹 now the recc list!!
possibly my favorite out of all three and it's literally the first one 😭 ough i could gush about this one FOR SO LOOONG ,,, i love how they immediately establish Don's mindset and attitude with how he both admires and pities the World Circuit for what they get and what they go through. when Don's out of the shower and he sees Bull half dressed there's no implication of sexual tension despite them being mostly undressed in front of each other and thats actually SO special to me because i had a morethanfriendship just like this and they captured the reality of it in a perfect way, like feeling for feeling . same in the way that Bull watches Don get dressed; they mention he stares but he doesn't have a corny, shocked "omg i hope he didn't notice me" reaction to catching himself. instead they mutually understand that they're admiring each other and they just smile about it . LIKE UGH THATS SO SPECIAL TO ME OMGG. and also Don putting on his - what'd id assume - rosary and then dabbing cologne behind his ears .. literally clutched my own cross necklace like omg that detail makes me crazyy i love the religion mention sm 😭
also UGH Bull's mannerisms .. a little annoyed at Don but there's such an endearing thing about it; he's annoyed at his demands but he complies anyway cuz even though he knows Don is purposely trying to make him a little pissed, he likes him enough to and he knows it'll make him happy .. THERE'S A DEEPER SENSE TO IT AND I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT IT IS BUT IT'S HARD TO WORDD 😭 also Bull being quick tempered about small things like the radio playing static and the music not being his taste .. and just the mutual like attachment they have with each other.. Bull never says anything about taking Don "home" (his hotel room) but Don knows exactly to get in his car and go with him anyway ,, and i cannot stress hard enough that it's just the little things seriously. i will never ever be regular about Bull liking to tie Don's boot laces, or promising to get his favorite beer when he offers it, or purposely (and patiently) waiting for him to get out of the shower so they can talk 🥹 like all those little gestures of love that show that he really does care . also possibly my favorite thing about this whole trilogy is that they have a very unestablished relationship ! it's never explicitly stated that they're dating or in love or anything even romantic but there areee quick mentions that imply (if im reading them correctly) that they're def a bit more than friends i.e Don mentioning how he thought his skin would burn from being in Bull's shower water temps ,, but the fact that it's not an established relationship and they don't outright express romantic interest in one another makes it SO much more special. it sets a completely different tone that creates warmth, familiarity, and comfort between them 😭
that's about that for Suficiente .. I LOVE IT SO MUCHH 😭 PLS READ IT, LEAVE KUDOS, AND IF U CAN COMMENT UR PRAISES !! 🩷 it is so well deserved genuinely. now on2 the next:
La Cosa Sobre El Pelo:
ugh i love this one equally as much. im gonna be repeating a lot of the same praises and ideas from "Suficiente" bcuz the whole trilogy creates the same kind of atmosphere but i still wanna gush about and explain it 🥹 omgg the paragraph about Don having a bald ass head and it scaring away the ladies made me giggle SO BAD . also UGH okay .. the sentiment of Don being vulnerable enough to confess his biggest insecurity to Bull, and for Bull to actually reflect and think about it so long after he's been told and reciprocate the vulnerability by showing Don a photograph of him before he lost his hair .. OUFFFGGHH actually the cutest and sweetest thing ever . also i am a nitpicker and a sucker for small details and i just absolutely LOVE how naturalistic the author makes the characters move. like Don doesn't get up and stand to grab the photo off the nightstand, he leans over and props himself up with his elbow and continues sipping on his beer when he's observing it like any other person would .. ugh i LOVE that detail , i get a little bothered when people write characters to be unnaturally animated in a setting where it doesn't exactly make sense to be, so that's another aspect of their writing that i appreciate soo much 😭 also it's the gestures omg .. when Bull grabs Don's thigh and shakes it and Don doesn't jerk away or question the closeness , he just leans back onto the bed and continues/ends their conversation about how he'll look bad with no hair and Bull looks good without it ,, I LOVE THAT SO BAADDD again it's the familiarity the meaning of Bull's gestures ,, the care that they quietly express instead of directly saying it .. GAWDD that's like my fav thing 😭 there's something so special about the silent concern and care that Bull has for Don in their writing; the small actions and the thought behind them do so much more than what words could say and i think it's super in character for him as well .. literally stellar i think i need to reread and add onto this one once i look at it again but I LOVE THIS ONE SO SO MUCHH 🩷
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frostbite-the-bat · 28 days
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no but genuinely. i love shadow filbo dearly. he means a lot to me.
he marks a time for me where i began embracing what i like just... for the sake of it!
he embodies the things that inspired me to draw online in the first place. hell, sparklecat characters with bangs have made me stop cutting my hair. i haven't cut my hair properly since. just because i wanted the same bangs, not knowing how hair works. now i have what is best described as messy fluttershy hair. to many people just how long my hair is, is what defines me when they see me and my hair is in a way special to me.
and again - he was what inspired me to draw. in class i'd be drawing my own sparklecats at the age of like 8, with bangs and wings and little companions that sit on clouds that rain hearts. (and bolts and skulls when ANGRY!)
i put rainbows on everything. i thought nyan cat was the embodiment of everything good in the world. i listened to nightcore versions of songs only. i say, as i am listening to nightcore, right now.
because of all these old classic animation memes and sparklefurs and silly scene and emo song flash animations i'd find... i'd pick up ms paint and draw. i imagined just how i'd animate, finding even the simplest methods absolutely mesmerising. there is something to be said about me being this young with internet access - because it very much so had it's negative effects. not me watching fetish videos at the age of 8 just because it had pokemon in it. yea that did not have any lasting effects.
but despite all this shit - it raised me! and even just a few years later... like.. 2015 when i began posting online on deviantart for the first time, not being just a lurker... learning how The Computer works better - not only drawing on paper anymore and gaining more and more interest towards digital art... i was already nostalgic towards these earlier days. but still living IN it, y'know?
just having fun, doing my own thing! isn't that what art is all about?
well. then the cringe culture nation attacked. severe bullying at school. and in general, just shame - which i am still fighting in certain aspects. but it's a bit more complicated than just "shame". (more so fear of Things.)
i'd look back at things with either genuine "cringe" or a distaste. how DARE these people have fun? because deep down, i was simply jealous.
if i was going to reference anything old like this, like classic animation memes, it was framed as "JOKE" "NOT SERIOUS" because i feared i would be harassed, made fun of, or people would thing THAT is the best of my artistic abilities. but... it's not like that.
and now, more and more people are embracing this. and it makes me so happy. and shadow filbo helped me fight off these fears a lot and just let me love what i love and be myself.
maybe it's not an ""aesthetic"" that completely defines me, maybe it IS a tik tok trend to do nowadays - but i don't care. without any of this i wouldn't be here. those were my first inspirations. silly colorful cats animated to crunchy mp3s of songs using movie maker and 3 (three!) frames drawn in ms paint. it had so much charm. it had so much genuinity. and i could feel it even back then.
without it i might've not been here as i am now. there are so many things that go into this, of course. but i simply would not be the exact way i am. and i dunno. that's something to think about.
thank you so much, shadow filbo. one "mistake" with you i've had was thinking i should be a good creator of something and respond to every fan and fanart, which only stressed me out. i have... opinions! about being recognized in various places and, as some dub, a "NICHE INTERNET MICROCELEBRITY" (nothing against you fox </3).... yeah! not a fan.
another mistake was dubbing him as a "joke" always. and... he is! he is humorous! i am a jokey person! i like crunchy shitposts! i like being the reason people laugh! i will go to certain levels to even ridicule myself just for the bit, and i don't mind it. i'm hyper(active) and i am just a jokey person, that's that. but... him being called a joke was honestly just a shield from people taking him too seriously.
if people were to mock me for being nostalgic for nightcore, and rainbows, and edgy amvs, sparkledogs, scene culture and clothes, rave songs... all this!
but... no! people loved it! people loved it so much, it moved THEM to create art!
me, referencing things that made ME inspired to draw all those years ago - then inspired OTHERS to draw other things. to embrace themselves. to have fun. to connect.
it means so much to me. it's a bit odd to comprehend, too.
but it means the world to me. sorry if i am ever annoying about shadow filbo, and is often the first thing i bring up when bugsnax is brought up - but he is the highlight of my experience with bugsnax.
thank you so much, shadow filbo. and me and my wretched little claws, of course. for making them. and those that inspired me. those old friends i lost along the way, too. and those, that inspired those that inspired me. and so forth.
thank you.
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Remembering Gübahar, part 1/2 - Circassian Beauty
Description: Mahidevran's backstory, as headcanoned by me. Featuring OCs and period typical attitudes so fair warning.
***
„Where are you from, anyway?“
Mahidevran has never been asked that, and she doubted any other sultana ever was. Women from high status families didn’t care, and elevated slaves such as herself knew better than to talk about certain things; for them, in silence was the solidarity. Only in the darkest of nights and trough the quietest of whispers, when as almost children they had to face their demons in the impersonal space of communal bedrooms, they dared to speak about it, and they did so with the utmost reverence and care for the then still fresh scars in their hearts – it was important that while they touch them, the stitches do not come off. It figures that Gabriella de Sfeo, who knew neither fear nor shame and who was so familiar with their society, yet understood so little of it at the same time, would be the first person she’d hear the question from.
   Mahidevran thus answered with only a practiced smile. „Ah, does it even matter, signora?“ Gabriela raised an eyebrow, unmoved by Mahidevran’s attempt to placate her curiosity. „It doesn’t, which is why I find it all the more strange that you’d be reluctant to tell me, sultana.“ „Oh, I am not!“ Mahidevran exclaimed, trying desperately to not sound defensive. „It’s just... Well, I need to talk to you about something else entirely, and now you are asking me to tell you some long-winded story, of which half I do not even remember, to tell the truth...“ „Oh, I do not need the whole story, sultana! Simply tell me, where you were born and of what nation.“ Mahidevran’s distaste for her curiosity (which must’ve been visible on her face) seemed to only feed it. „Surely, you must’ve shared this amusing little fact with other women of your station, have you not?“ Mahidevran pursed her lips together. Maybe it was just her imagination, but Gabriela sounded almost... Accusatory. „I do not keep any secrets from you, signora, or anyone else. I came from this palace, where my son was born and where His Majesty graced me with his love and care. Anything else, which might’ve come before, is irrelevant.“ Gabriela only smiled. „And yet...“ „Yet what?!“ „You are not willing to divulge such a pitiful nothing of an information in a casual conversation.“ Mahidevran raised her voice. „Signora de Sfeo, I value our friendship, and it deeply saddens me that you are apparently willing to sacrifice it for your own nosiness...“ „Nosiness?“ Gabriela chuckled. „Alright, then. I appologize, sultana, if in my question I might’ve been forcing you to reveal something shameful...“ „My past is not shameful, signora!“ said Mahidevran harshly. „I don’t know what kind of scandal you imagine me hiding about my younger years, but rest assured, they were perfectly ordinary and no different from any other woman here-“
   She cut her impassionate refute of Gabriela’s assertions in the middle, because despite her best efforts, signora made her admit things she didn’t put into words even in her head for all of those years. As a result, she was in such foul mood she needed to end her meeting with signora as soon as possible and order a glass of boza, which she had not drunk since she first got pregnant and elevated over her peers. If she was going to wrestle with unbidden memories called upon by her declaration, she might as well do so with a spot of something nostalgic, so to speak.
   It was perhaps for the best that she had no memmories of Circassia. She knew girls who remembered their homelands, even at the house of Zahide hanim, who raised most of her slaves just like she did Mahidevran. It wasn’t pretty, watching them when they first came; the lucky ones only cried a lot, especially at night, some also woke from nightmares, but it wasn’t rare for them to be... Broken, in one way or another. To not speak, or to only speak rarely and in that strange heavy monotone that she imagined rocks would have if they could speak. Or, on the contrary, to live in a constant state of panic, suspicious towards everyone and everything new, slow to trust and quick to attack (on the receiving end of these Mahidevran had found herself more often than she can count). One of her teachers seemed almost normal, except for the fact that she was obsessed with the idea of her or her surroundings catching fire, so she unlit every candle or fireplace that she could, making them shiver in their clasrooms and go to bed much sooner than even Zahide hanim ordered – and God forbid one of them didn’t do the same! They called that woman insane behind her back, and she might very well have been, but then, at least she had some company in that in Zahide hanim’s household. Of course, the woman had been a slave for years at that point, and most girls she met recovered much sooner... Eventually, Zahide hanim found her hysterics tiresome and had her sold away, never to be seen again. The woman seemed sad, but not as much as Mahidevran would expect; then again, for her, leaving Zahide hanim was at that time completely unimaginable, and all in all the worst thing that can happen to her, up to and including death.
   Mahidevran grew up as an orphan. She did not know if she in fact was one – it’s possible that somewhere in those massive green mountains Mahidevran’s mother or father still cried for her even after four decades, miraculously surviving whatever act of brutal violence led to her enslavement and living the rest of their life in mourning. That thought used to bother her once, when she was still small and trying to reconcile the theoretical concept of a normal family with the fact that she only had a mistress and fellow pupils. Her head back then was full of fantasies, about that place she knew little of and people who might not even be in the realm of the living anymore. With Zahide, she was always unsure of whether she could tell her about something so silly, but luckily when her fellow orphan Gevheri asked her mistress about their origin, she was rather understanding. Zahide patiently explained that she herself did not know anything about where they came from, except for the location; the man who sold them said no more than „this girl is named thus and is of that nation“, and that was, allegedly, for the best. After all, were they really convinced that learning of the home they did not have anymore and family they could not possibly ever come home to would make them feel better in any way? Nevertheless, she was then kind enough to tell them their names and places of origin – and so Mahidevran knew her parents, whoever they were, named her Sataney after a pagan goddess, information interesting enough to retain, but otherwise rather useless. Only much later, when she was sent to the palace of şehzade Süleyman, did she learn more. Upset at leaving the only home she had known, Mahidevran talked back to Zahide in a manner she never dared to before, leaving her mistress to lose her patience and scream at her the words Mahidevran never forgot.
„I am a daughter of a sultana, and you – who are you?! Some peasant girl from a burned village, taken as a war prize by a barbarian prince from the mountains, for whom serving my food and fetching my slippers is the best fate that might’ve befallen you...“
   Mahidevran did not know if it was something Zahide knew with any certainty, or if she just speculated based off of the fact that this was where most of the famous „Circassian beauties“ came from. Much later, as the mother of beloved şehzade Mustafa, she heard people spreading rumors about her having royal blood in her veins, but she was quite sure that wasn’t the case. If the slavers got their hands on an actual princess, they would mention it – after all, think of the price they could ask for such a girl...! Besides, the odds weren’t in her favour in this case. There was only so many princesses in Circassia, and peasant girls must‘ve outnumbered them greatly. No, Mahidevran sultan was no Ayşe Hafsa, she could not place herself above every other woman in the harem on her origins alone. But that is not to say she wasn’t better than them in some regards.
   Zahide hanim had planned out the education of her subjects to the smallest details. Cared for by the best teachers she could find amongst the eunuchs and slave women of Istanbul, Mahidevran and several other girls were schooled in good manners, rhetoric, religion, literature, Persian and Arabic languages, embroidery, music and dancing, as well as receiving some limited instruction in mathematics, history and philosophy. Admittedly, Mahidevran was never good in any of it, frustrating teachers with her slow and reluctant adoption of any „serious“ subject, and only ever truly excelling in the art of embroidery. But she was not completely immune to the effects of rigorous education she received at Zahide hanim’s household – unlike Hürrem, she at least never had any trouble keeping up with the ladies of high breeding, even if she could not measure up to the likes of Şah sultan or Ibrahim pasha. At any rate, she wasn’t top of the class by any means, and she didn’t manage to distinguish herself outside of classroom either.
   At any given moment, Zahide hanim cared for about a dozen slave girls of various ages, the relations between whom were always rather precarious. In their small, closed off collective, every friend was the dearest, most beloved person in the world (except for their mistress, of course), but every foe was in turn one more reason to despise even being alive. They could not torment each other openly, of course – not only for the fear of punishment, but also because the conscience of even the worst of them would not allow such severe transgression against their mistress. Instead, they attacked their foes only with more moderate weapons, but that much more relentlessly; Mahidevran spent her entire youth under the barrage of insults, petty pranks and small injustices, inflicting them in turn whenever she could. Unfortunately, she lacked inventiveness or quick wit, so she wasn’t any good in this kind of quiet warfare, which led to her relying on either inflicting physical violence on her foes (a difficult task for someone as small and unintimidating) she would then do her best to conceal or friendships with girls smarter than her. She got lucky in this regard: being naturally withdrawn, she never had many friends, but she managed to arouse the feelings of protectiveness in an older girl named Ümmülgülsüm, big, burly Greek known as the self-appointed peacekeeper of their group. Much like Mahidevran, she wasn’t good at any of the school subjects with the sole exception of embroidery, which (or so Mahidevran suspected) made her see herself in little Mahidevran; however, unlike her, Ümmülgülsüm was quite good at exerting authority over the other girls thanks to her size, common wisdom and dignified demeanor. Being her favourite was often the only thing standing between Mahidevran and relentless bullying, so naturally she had grown quite attached to Ümmülgülsüm. She stayed longer than any of her peers, too, which was lucky, because Mahidevran could not even imagine spending even part of her early youth relying only on herself.
   Even so, nothing lasts forever, and Ümmülgülsüm left when she was eighteen and Mahidevran herself only twelve. It happened so suddenly – one morning, an overseerer told Ümmülgülsüm to pack her things and then wait in Zahide hanim’s chambers. Once she left their common room to see their mistress, she only came back to say goodbye, explaning in a hurry that she was sold to pasha so-and-so and that they may not see her again. Mahidevran could not stop crying the rest of the day, no matter how much the overseerer tried to assure her what happened to Ümmülgülsüm will happen to every one of them eventually, and that it’s only for the best that she has gone off to do what she was always raised for: keeping company to men of high standing. Mahidevran remembered her old friend after giving birth to Mustafa, and so used the modicum of power given to her by this fortunate event for ordering aghas to locate Ümmülgülsüm at pasha’s household. It turned out that the elderly pasha has kept her as a concubine, a duty which she loathed with every fiber of her being, but luckily his failing health soon barred him from this kind of entertainment, relegating Ümmülgülsüm to a mere servant of pasha’s eldest daughter – an all around better mistress than him, if Ümmülgülsüm was to be believed. Alas, her lowly possition meant that she wasn’t able to maintain regular contact with Mahidevran, but at least her old protector was content with where she ended up.
   Regardless, Ümmülgülsüm’s sudden departure left a profound impact on Mahidevran. It was probably the first time she really thought of how fickle the fate is, and what that word even means. Fate, she realized soon, weren’t just the whims of nature, her own body or the supernatural, no; her fellow human beings could be the fate, if they are powerful enough. Questioning, for example, Zahide hanim, was just as futile and borderline blasphemous as questioning Allah above. Or that was what she told herself – really, the only alternative was to blame Zahide hanim, perish the thought. Unlike Hürrem, Mahidevran wasn’t defiant by nature, and with the exception of a few cases, such as the aforementioned incident around her departure, she had only ever shown perfect obedience towards Zahide hanim; a fact which, admittedly, might’ve surprised anyone who had known her in the Manisa palace.
   She was around eighteen when they were rounded up on Zahide’s orders in a courtyard, where they were visited by a burly older woman, who, as Mahidevran thought upon first seeing her, had a somewhat frog-like face. From her dress, Mahidevran could immediately tell she isn’t particullarly wealthy or important herself – this confused her at first, since how could someone ordinary even afford Zahide’s girls, who, as they were themselves told, meant for the most elite of households? And yet, there the woman was, eyeing them all critically and with a rather obvious intent of taking one of them away. Before she said a word, Mahidevran realized the woman must’ve been an attendant, sent by someone else, either because they weren’t able to come, or because they were too important to bother with such things. Nevertheless, she would never have guessed the identity of the woman’s mistress, since it was one of those things one would be too bold to even dream about, and Mahidevran was never much of a dreamer anyhow.
   The woman looked less than impressed by them – and sounded so too. „Is this everything you have?“ Zahide hanim pursed her lips together. „Daye hatun, I know there aren’t many of them...“ „I was talking more about their quality than quantity, hanim.“ That hurt, though Mahidevran told herself that perhaps it wasn’t that the years of being told how beautiful, well-educated and all around exceptional they are were all lies; after all, what if the woman was just of an exceptionally curmogeonly character? (It was only later, when she was charged with buying slaves or really anything expensive herself that she realized talking cargo down was a standard practice for savvy buyers.) „I know they don’t seem like much compared to other girls dressed up to the nines by their owners, but consider, I only let them parade around you in such simple getup because I would not dare deceive you with makeup and jewelry into believing they are more beautiful than they are...“ The woman remained absolutely deadpan. „I do not think it’s the way they are dressed, hanim.“ Zahide hanim raised her eyebrows. „You do not consider them good enough? Well, that is unfortunate, but I suppose I cannot change what your eyes see. Shall I bid you farewell, then?“ Daye’s smile was slight, but still notable on her previously less than amused face. „Well, I suppose some of them are at least acceptable.“ She scaned them quickly with her gaze, then pointed to Mahidevran and two other girls. „Take those three to the hammam. I need to see... More of them, if you understand me. Just so I can be assured they are healthy and... Well, an all around quality material.“
   Mahidevran shivered at the thought of standing naked in front of the woman’s cold amphibian eyes. One of the other girls, Neslihan, outright defied the order and made a scene. The good news was, she didn’t have to stand naked in front of the old woman, but the whipping she was punished with was so brutal it hardly seemed worth it; really, even not knowing what she knew now about the strange woman’s identity, Mahidevran would still prefer standing naked in front of her for a few seconds than suffering so much pain she’d vomit. Mahidevran actually liked the spirited girl somewhat, so when she later visited Neslihan in the sickbay to make sure she’s well, she didn’t dare mention the opportunity the girl passed over by her defiance – though she must’ve found eventually. It was one of the cruelest punishments she had seen Zahide mete out, and though she could understand somewhat her anger and need to look tough in front of the representative of Ayşe Hafsa herself, she was still disturbed by the sight of Neslihan’s utterly butchered back. She suspected that might’ve contributed to her later outburst, which caused her to part with her beloved mistress on bad terms.
   Regardless, back in the baths, after looking around their bodies with a cold, clinical gaze, Daye proclaimed. „Ah, to hell with it. Let me take them both. What are they called, anyway?“ „The skinny one is Gülbahar, the other one Gülruh.“ answered Zahide. „So, two roses, then?“ noted Daye with a humorless smile. Then she turned towards them. „I know it might not seem that way, but this is the luckiest day of your life. Get dressed and then pack your things. You’re joining the household of şehzade Süleyman.“    Mahidevran almost fainted at the information. However, she overcame her dizziness and shaking feet, when the older woman saw her distress and propped Mahidevran up by her own shoulder. „Pull yourself together, girl. Where are you from?“ „Circassia, mylady...“ „One would think you of stronger stuff, considering you were born in the mountain air.“
   Just like Ümmülgülsüm, she was given only a short time to pack her bags and say her farewells. Though her mind was aware that, just like Daye said, she indeed got very lucky, she certainly didn’t feel it that way. Instead, she was grieving losing almost all of her friends, but also fearing disappointment – from her own side, if service in the royal household wouldn’t be as glamorous as she imagined it to be in the past, but more importantly also from the side of her new masters. After all, it would be bad enough to embarass herself in front of any high-born lady or gentleman, but sultan’s wife and eldest son...? She then briefly visited Neslihan, and as one negative emotion built upon another, it only took Zahide hurrying her up without any patience or understanding for Mahidevran to lose her temper. Mahidevran didn’t suffer any real consequences for it, as she left soon after, but she never forgave herself for the fact that this was the farewell she had given to the woman who raised her in her own household, perhaps not as her own daughter, but certainly not without affection. Or so Mahidevran chose to believe, as sometimes she had to argue over this point with a small voice in her head that doubted her most sincerely held beliefs. She suspected most people have such a voice in their head; perhaps it is the devil speaking, as Ayşe Hafsa once told her, but more likely it is just their reason overdoing it sometimes. After all, there is no sin in doubt, only in succumbing to it.
   Road to the royal palace in Manisa was rather short – around an hour in the carriage, certainly not enough for Daye to provide them with a comprehensive lesson on palace etiquette, much as she tried. She told them it would be a few months untill they could properly serve şehzade and his mother; in the meantime, their lot was to live amongst other low-ranking servant girls, doing chores, fulfilling small tasks and attending some lessons. Daye was andamant that they do not think themselves better than the other girls just because they have a guaranteed spot in sultana’s vicinity, and should she catch them causing unnecessary ruckus, the best they could hope for is losing that spot. Mahidevran’s heart sunk with every minute she spent in Daye’s company. It was one thing to leave the only home and almost all of the people she had known, but to exchange one mistress whom she loved dearly for this frog-faced harridan? (In hindsight, she considered her judgement of the venerable Daye hatun almost amusing in its wrongness and inappropriateness, though in fairness, she could not have known better.) Her first meeting with Ayşe Hafsa didn’t fill her with much hope either – the old woman took one look at the young women brought in front of her and apathetically ordered Daye to show them their rooms. Only later did she learn that valide just arrived in Manisa in the aftermath of her husband’s ascencion and after the bloodshed that followed, she wasn’t inclined to concern herself with the day-to-day running of the household. Nonetheless, at the end of the day, as she and Gülruh walked the gauntlet of curious slave girls to the common sleeping area, their meager belongings in hand, Mahidevran didn’t feel much optimism about her future.
   At first, it seemed to have been warranted. The girls around her regarded her and Gülruh with curiosity, as unlike most of them, they didn’t come directly from the market, but were bred for service – a fate which the girls enslaved later in life could barely fathom. At every meal, they bombarded both newcomers with questions, which made Mahidevran profoundly uncomfortable. On the other hand, Gülruh answered them much more readily, soon earning her quite a lot of friends and immensely helping her adjust to their new home. This aroused jealousy in Mahidevran, which only made those first few months that much more bitter. Thus alienated from the only person she truly knew in this unfamiliar enviroment, she turned towards other outcasts of the palace, the chief among them a put-upon servant named Gülşah.
   She first stood out to Mahidevran by being somewhat more pudgy than most of the other girls, as well as by the fact that the rest of them acted as if she was disseased. When she once asked Gülruh about her during a meal, her old aquitance laughed. „Gülşah? Allah, don’t come close to that one. She was sent away from Topkapi as a punishment for constantly getting into fights, and even here noone likes her. If the girls saw you two together...“ ...they would’ve left me alone, she finished that sentence in her head.
   It was a spur-of-the moment decision, really. Gülruh barely moved another spoon of pilav to her mouth when Mahidevran got up from her seat and resolutely sat by Gülşah’s table. This move surprised her new companion so much that the only reaction she managed was a confused stare. Mahidevran for her part enjoyed having a silent companion at first, untill Gülşah broke the silence. „You’re the new one?“ Mahidevran didn’t react at first, slowly realizing she had no plan how to proceed with her new aquitance. She only nodded her head and tried to focus on her meal, hoping the situation settles itself somehow. Gülşah seemed slightly hostile, her anger dampened by the pleasant surprise of finally having someone at her side. „What are you doing at my table?!“ „Why? Do you want me to leave?“ Gülşah slowly blinked. „No, I mean... Why me? Why sit here, at this place?“ Mahidevran only shrugged. „You’re quiet. Everyone has been so annoying since I came here, I hoped that maybe you are different...?“ „I guess I am, but...“ Her eyes trailed across the room. „That’s because noone wants to talk to me out there.“ „Why?“ She seemed upset by that question. „The hell if I know. Ask them.“ „I already did.“ After a moment of silence, even more awkward than the first, Mahidevran tried her best to break it. „They say you used to serve at the palace of sultan himself.“ „And? All of the other girls did too. Well, I mean there’s that bitch Yasemin and her friends, who already served the prince in Kaffa... And Gülfem, if she comes back from Istanbul.“ „Why? What does she do there?“ „Sleeps with şehzade, probably.“ she shrugged. „If he still wants her, that is.“ „Why wouldn’t he?“ „I mean, they’ve been together since Kaffa, maybe he’s tired of her or something. I don’t know, and honestly I don’t care about that kind of stupid gossip. I am not his concubine, and never will be.“ „Why are you so certain of it? I think you’re actually quite pretty.“ Gülşah’s eyes widened and cheeks turned light crimson. „Uh... Thank you.“ She drank from the glass of water near her plate, collecting herself. „But you’re probably the only person who thinks that. Everyone else calls me an owl and teases me constantly. Well, at least they used to – I... I made them stop.“
Only later did Mahidevran learn that Gülşah knows the other girls continue laughing at her in secret, she just didn’t care. If she couldn’t have any kind of respect, she was aiming for at least a small amount of fear; just enough that noone dared say anything to her face.
   From their first conversation, Mahidevran felt a strange draw towards the other girl. She could not properly explain it back then, aside from the fact that, as unpleasant as Gülşah could be, the hate towards her was nonetheless disproportionate. But when Gülruh asked why it must be Mahidevran herself who compensates for this unjust treatment, she had no proper answer. Her old aquitance must’ve thought her mad, to cling so closely to the one so hated by everyone else, even if Gülruh never said it out loud and most certainly didn’t leave Mahidevran’s side because of it (by then, Gülruh’s popularity was such that even association with Mahidevran couldn’t have undermined it). In hindsight, Mahidevran became certain that her inexplicable affection for her might’ve had something to do with the memmories of Ümmülgülsüm, which Gülşah aroused in Mahidevran despite having very little in common with her old friend. To put it simply, Mahidevran might’ve felt that it was time to pass on the protection she received and become a protector herself. A lookback at those times also revealed that she shouldn’t have bothered, but how was she to know Gülşah’s true nature back then? In day-to-day interactions, Gülşah didn’t seem all that bad – perhaps a little slow, and clinging to her only friend with a bothersome tenacity, but nonetheless surprisingly kind and caring. She shared Mahidevran’s passion for embroidery, and they had many a pleasant conversation in the corner with their threads and needles in hand. Finally accompanied by people who knew their way around the palace, Mahidevran started to get used to her new home; after all, in principle it was hardly that much different from the old one, up to its surpringly small size (harem in Manisa back then was staffed by never more than twenty women and ten aghas, and even now held only slightly more people).
   A few weeks into her stay in Manisa, şehzade Süleyman returned. Mahidevran barely saw him at first, since even during their rare encounters, she had to avert her gaze – besides, being young, naive and under the influence of tall tales during which maidens fall for handsome youths (as well as youths for maidens) at a mere glance, she was affraid of looking at a man who will likely never be hers for long. She tried not to think of him, to supress the myriad of questions she had about the master of not only this household, but soon the entire empire, and in this Gülşah was actually very helpful. Always aware of her supposedly plain looks (even if Mahidevran herself wouldn’t judge her so harshly), she didn’t dream about becoming a concubine, and several forgotten one-night women in harems of both Süleyman and his father only strenghtened her convinction that sultan’s bed simply isn’t worth fighting for. She seemed quite ambivalent about şehzade himself, too; when asked about him, she just shrugged. „He has beautiful eyes, I suppose.“ Then and especially now, Mahidevran found a certain kind of wisdom in Gülşah’s sober attitude towards the fate of concubines. Nonetheless, just like many girls around her, she could not help but look with immense jealousy at Gülfem and the newborn prince Murat she brought from Topkapi. Bearing a prince, after all, was the most women like them could strive for, and even besides that, the baby was the most loveable little thing Mahidevran had ever seen (presumably because she didn’t have to change its nappies and listen to its cries deep in the night). It was then that she slowly started to wonder what it would be like, to know a man and have a child of her own? The thoughts of this kind crept at her mind steadily, with Mahidevran herself fighting them at every turn, but she could never banish them for good.
   Eventually, as she and Gülruh properly started service in the entourage of Ayşe Hafsa, she got her first good look at şehzade Süleyman – and she was almost instantly smitten. Gülşah’s comment about his eyes was appropriate, yet somehow she forgot to also mention his elegant, yet manly profile, charming, approachable smile and tall figure, which was also decently built, though she didn’t have the pleasure to see it for herself untill later. As a servant of Ayşe Hafsa, Mahidevran was in Süleyman’s vicinity quite often, and was able to observe him quite closely, although he didn’t notice her at all. There was a strange kind of one-sided intimacy between them, as Mahidevran soon recognized all of Süleyman’s quirks and little ticks, whereas she was a non-entity for him. She also became somewhat knowledgeable when it came to his habits and personality.
   Şehzade Süleyman was a bright and lively youth, whose duties as governor couldn’t truly exhaust his endless supply of energy. Whenever the oportunity arose, he participated in more ambitious projects than was usual for a sanjakbey, which left his mother greatly concerned, as she knew her husband’s temper and soon realized Süleyman’s activities were seen as threatening by the paranoid old sultan. Süleyman once bitterly compared his father to the ancient pagan god Kronos, who, having deposed his own father Uranos, swallowed all of his children soon after birth so they would not do the same to him. Of course, his fear may or may not have been justified given that his wife managed to save his youngest son and, just as the old man feared, Kronos was cast down by his own son. Though Süleyman didn’t have the same intentions, he must’ve known that this comparison was unintentionally self-flattering; after all, in this story, he paralelled none other than Zeus, the king of gods and patron god of kings. Süleyman certainly dreamed of greatness – he strived to be not only a great conqueror like his father, but an arbiter of law and culture for centuries to come. Not having the oportunity to influence either much, Süleyman instead simply worked as hard as he could, and when he ran out of work, he instead took to writing poetry and surrounding himself with books and scholars.
   Süleyman also loved hunting, just like Mustafa, and indeed also became overly fond of his hunting companion, just like his eldest son seemed now. Of course, that was a bit unjust comparison – Taşlicali, for all of his inarguable literary talent, was as humble as he was dense, while Ibrahim even as a simple falconer lacked neither pride nor intelligence. Then again, the same could be said about their masters. In any case, Süleyman’s deep friendship with the young servant, together with his relative disinterest in women, created some truly vile rumors, of course only whispered quietly among the slave girls whenever their superiors were far away. After all, when Gülfem bore him a son, he lost all interest in women of the harem, and around this time he also brought Ibrahim from one of his hunts (cue the jokes about him „catching a fine stag“). Ayşe Hafsa probably didn’t know about these rumors, or else their perpetrators would suffer with their lives, but at the very least, she wasn’t satisfied with the future of the dynasty hinging on a single child. She reminded Süleyman of his duty to sire healthy sons as often as possible, but he didn’t seem very receptive; in fact, the more insistent she was, the more time Süleyman spend with everyone and everything else but harem concubines. If Mahidevran were to guess now, she would say he simply found mere intercourse unexciting and always needed more than a beautiful young body to arouse his senses. Süleyman craved emotions. Süleyman craved stories. Süleyman craved drama. And though Mahidevran didn’t know it yet, she was about to provide him with everything he wanted and more.
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dballzposting · 8 months
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It bothers the fuck out of me when ppl take things that are in the text not supposed to be serious and make them serious. Taking the comedy action shots of chichi getting mad at her family and using it to make her an abuser creates an entirely different story with entirely different stakes. The innate misogyny of portraying Bulma and Chichi as "bad wives" has plagued the dragon ball fan base for years. These are both women who spent a good portion of their motherhood as single mothers and toriyama hasn't portrayed the results as anything but a set of happy, healthy children. There is a constant problem of portraying these women who are really just asking for the presence and understanding of their husbands as belligerent and delusional and making them active abusers only worsens that. Just literally everything about your post is so wrong and gross and your post about Gohan and Videl burning cigs on his arm is just so fucking utterly asinine that I can't tell if this is some sort of trauma you're coping through with these characters or some weird fetish thing but it's just kind of sad and I think you need to talk to someone.
... Oh dear. What did they drag you through on twitter to make you say things like this?
I know that the best response to messages like this is supposed to be minimal. But I think that that approach is done when it's understood that both parties aren't going to reach the other, or when an interaction is not desired. Since you've sent this off of anon, I don't want to give up right away; and since this is actually the first proper hate that I've received in my 8 years online, this is a special occasion for me!! I have a lot of thoughts about this and I am excited to share.
I will give you my complete response.
I am going to respond to this sentence by sentence, as is dballzposting custom when an ask warrants it.
First, my opening comment: I appreciate that you've written in full sentences, and have not belabored any one particular point. This will make responding easy and efficient. I do think you've interjected more pathos than maybe you intended, but for all of your insensitivity, you've been objective in that.
"It bothers the fuck out of me when ppl take things that are in the text not supposed to be serious and make them serious."
This first sentence is a problem. But I understand where you are coming from. Right off the bat I am going to ask for some patience and grace, because I am going to postulate about your perspective. I don't think that this is what you hate. What you are hating is A.) seeing renditions of an artwork that make no sense to, has no bearing on, and is totally removed from your understanding of the source material; and B.) these concepts specifically, Chichi beating her family and the Gohan & Videl post that you mention later in the ask.
This on its own is not a problem. You are free to dislike, or be bothered by, both. But that's not what you wrote out. I think that what you've done is try to articulate your distaste into a reason that sounds understandable and justifiable, which is a very common pitfall when it comes to understanding and comprehending feelings. Rationalization and I have a long history. I just want to point this out, that your word choice is not the most succinct and pertinent to your feelings. There are two reasons that I find this clarity important:
One: Because what you've described isn't actually hateable. To borrow your word choice from later, it is an asinine reason to hate anything. It goes against the very nature of art. This is literally what you wrote: "It bothers the fuck out of me when ppl take things that are in the text not supposed to be serious and make them serious." What? This is so simply backwards.
Consider: What is art? It's an expression, isn't it? Of passion, of beauty, of fear, confusion, wisdom, worry, admiration - it's the need to create, it's the need to share, it's - YADDA YADDA YADDA! I don't need to write it all out for you. YOU KNOW ART! Don't act like you don't. And you know that such expressions inspire pathways of expression in others. That is all there is to it! It is not anyone's role to preserve an author's intention, and only their explicit intention, when it comes to interacting with their art. It is anyone's prerogative to do so though, if their passion is a formalist perspective. I've been there. It's a wonderful and insightful thing to study art as the impressive work it is, and to only stick to what the author found relevant. Is that the ONLY way to interact with art? I don't need to answer that for you.
Two: Because feeling our feelings in earnest is one of the most important things that we as humans can/must do. When you control them by pinning them to explanations that you think are "justifiable," "valid," "rational," "understandable," or any number of head-prioritizing adjectives, then you are killing your emotional spirit.
I want to reiterate that this rationalizing of feelings into concrete beliefs is a very common pitfall in modern emotionally-stunted man, and I do not blame you at all for it. I just wanted to be clear about how I'm taking your message and how I'm understanding your emotional state, since it does deviate from what you wrote explicitly. I am not going to assume that what you wrote is actually what bothers you, because I will not do you that disservice. I am understanding that what is bothering you is the concepts that you've seen posted on my blog.
"Taking the comedy action shots of chichi getting mad at her family and using it to make her an abuser creates an entirely different story with entirely different stakes."
Yes! Now you are getting it.
"The innate misogyny of portraying Bulma and Chichi as 'bad wives' has plagued the dragon ball fan base for years."
This is where you lose me. Frankly this is a complete red herring fallacy and I am tempted to ignore it. But it is relevant to you, so I will engage.
A.) That has nothing to do with me or my posts. I didn't know about that, I don't see that, and I don't care about that.
B.) I never said that Chichi or Bulma were bad wives. You could not have known that, since you do not read dballzposting typically. I believe you are just pointing out a broader phenomenon to place your response into perspective. OK. It places your response in context, but unfortunately, it is completely out of context in a response to my posts, since my posts do not exist within that context. Because I have never seen that perspective, and because I do not care about it.
C.) It matters to you. So you are responding to it. But this is not a subreddit where you can respond to a community at large. This is dballzposting. You are reaching only me and maybe some users who only care about Yamucha x Vegeta having gay sex, Goten urinal transgressions, and the like.
I understand that you are bothered by, and are responding to, a phenomenon which is evidently widespread. But this is not the place to be responding to that.
"These are both women who spent a good portion of their motherhood as single mothers and toriyama hasn't portrayed the results as anything but a set of happy, healthy children."
I know. I'm here to fix that.
More seriously: Dragon Ball is not a story about family dynamics. That is not the story that Toriyama is trying to tell. He doesn't have time to care about anyone's parenting habits, he does not have the space to imply that they have an effect on anyone when there are space aliens trying to kill everyone. Of course he portrays happy healthy children. He is writing about peace until he isn't. As I wrote previously, this holds no bearing on how people are free to discuss his work, and remember that empty fields are very fertile grounds for discussion.
"There is a constant problem of portraying these women who are really just asking for the presence and understanding of their husbands as belligerent and delusional and making them active abusers only worsens that."
This one is interesting. I really appreciate the strong adjectives chosen here. I do portray Chichi as "belligerent" and "delusional." This is because she is. I am respecting her writing. This is how Toriyama wrote her. He's partial to misogynistic writing himself. But other than that, I think that he also writes really good female characters. He wrote female characters that are strong, unapologetically authentic, fascinating, and weird.
I DO portray Chichi as belligerent and delusional, because she is, and I have always only loved that about her. You would not have known that I have always felt way. You do not read the dr dballz tabloids. But what you did read were those posts that you are responding to, and nowhere in those posts did I imply any dislike or malice toward the character of Ms Chichi. I know this, because I wrote them, and I like her, and would not have written about her in that way.
Still, that is what you saw, because you decided that lumping all unsavory posts that you see online together as a monochromatic monolith is best.
She IS belligerent and delusional, for very complex reasons, same as why anyone in real life is belligerent and delusional. I am very interested in her. I am interested in reading what other people have to say about her. I completely agree that she is just "asking for the presence and understanding of [her] husband." I think that she's never had security. I think that her husband leaves her too frequently. I think that she feels powerless. I think a lot of things, and I am very interested in expressing my thoughts on my personal publicly-accessible blog.
Moreover: What do you mean when you write "active abuser"? What do you think an "active abuser" is? Some inhuman that you can just write off? Do you think that portraying these women as abusers discredits their characters? What about the people they abuse, what if this is about honoring them? Is it more important that we ignore the ugly presence of abuse, and its effect, in order to paint these women as perfectly consumable saints?
Do you see how you cannot win when you play this moralistic game? Ms Chichi is belligerent and delusional and she is one of my favorite characters for it.
This next sentence of yours I will break up and respond to bit by bit.
"Just literally everything about your post is so wrong and gross"
Actually I want to take the opportunity to interject two things here: one, most of what I say on this blog is actually historically technically pretty much bullshit. As in, it does not always come from anything in canon. But Chichi beating her kids actually does come from canon. It actually does have its roots there. We do see her unstable, irascible way and violent outbursts more than once. Like this one actually has some merit. I wouldn't call that "wrong and gross." It's sort of a dballz win actually.
And two: I do not care that deeply about Chichi beating her children. It is not the most fucked up story that I care about. It is funny, it is true, it is piquant when I have something to say - it was not the thing that I thought I would get negative reviews on. There are some deeply disturbing things that I really do care a lot about. I mean, you never even saw the post about Tarble using the DARVO method against Vegeta and turning his soul inside out! I really liked that one.
"and your post about Gohan and Videl burning cigs on his arm"
HEY she smokes CIGARS. Get it right.
"is just so fucking utterly asinine"
I don't believe that this is an astute use of the word "asinine." It was not dumb, nonsensical, or devoid. I felt that it was insightful and bold. I do think that the punchline fell a little flat, only because the act of burning someone with a cigar is not at all comparable with the explosive act of passion that is beating someone with a skillet, so it doesn't actually make much sense in the context of a wounded attachment style. The two don't translate. Additionally, I don't think that Chichi became comfortable with hitting her kids until much later in Gohan's life, when his attachment style was already developed. So I will agree that that post failed to cohere its subtle attempts at legitimacy. Fortunately, that post was tactless and brazen intentionally for the purpose of comedy, so its secondary intentions were less important. That's how we do it around here on dballzposting. Again, I couldn't have expected you to know that, seeing as you essentially just burst in here, so I'm telling you now.
"that I can't tell if this is some sort of trauma you're coping through with these characters"
And so what if it is? Now you've stoked me. I am very passionate about the importance of leniency and forgiveness regarding this.
"or some weird fetish thing"
And so what if it is? Is there a difference between the last point and this one? If there is, does it matter in any practical sense? Does it matter to you?
This point in your message is where you illustrate your lack of working empathy and self-awareness. What if this WAS somebody working through trauma, in an explicit, visible, aware, direct-correlation sort of way? Is this an appropriate way to approach them about it?
What if this was somebody working through trauma in an implicit, subtle, indirect, patient, self-compassionate way? Is this an appropriate way to approach them about it?
What if this was somebody working through trauma in an unaware way, and this accusation would frighten them? What if they were fixated, or what if they found relief in the expression? Is this an appropriate way to approach them about it?
What if this was somebody manifesting symptoms of trauma in a way that resulted in a fetish, what if they did hold an inexorable fixation upon this, and we are viewing a corrupted sexual expression, an organism trying to persevere despite unresolved impacts on its health? Is this an appropriate way to approach them about it?
Would you dare damn art, an expression of something personal and living?
Do you think that art cannot be a way to deliberately or inadvertently process feelings and responses? Have you ever seen art that wasn't that?
"but it's just kind of sad and I think you need to talk to someone."
This last bit is a finalization of your insensitivity and lack of self-awareness. What you are doing at the end here is parroting common phrases and methods that you have seen on the internet. Ending an expression of personal dissent with faux-compassionate words in order to dial back the animosity. Because you don't want to be held accountable for your words, intentions, or feelings. You want to wash your hands of the whole thing, despite making the decision to approach somebody with your feelings.
You hide behind this internet moralism poorly: specifically, you bring up "trauma" as an internet buzz word that we're all meant to care about, but then in the same sentence fall far short of actually showing any real care.
My carping with this is the same as when we started - I don't think that you are being as poignant with your words as you could be. You're not saying what you mean. You do not really care, which is as acceptable as the truth must be, so why pretend to at all?
Here is what I think is happening with this whole message: I think that you think that this is what you really believe in, and you think that you have conviction, because what you really have is a lot of defensive energy stemming from some hurt. So you feel confident in writing this and sending it with your name attached.
I think that it is not standard operating procedure for you to sit in your discomfort when you are upset. I think that you do not know how to feel yourself with grace. I think that you perceive your own reaction as an attack from another.
I think that when you attack, you feel righteous in doing so, like you are attacking against a unified force that has long since been out to get you. But your attack is irrelevant. It is out of context here. I see a lack of ability to understand nuance. I see rigidity and shallowness. I see a lack of vitality.
You will not feel better until you learn how to tolerate yourself.
Healing trauma requires a self-awareness as well as a self-compassion. It requires that you are able to observe your feelings with curiosity and without judgement. This is also the way of leading a fulfilling and engaged life.
Your message to me is moralistic. It is uncreative and uninsightful. It is purely reactionary: it has absolutely nothing to do with what was actually written or what was actually intended. You just felt, let your feelings be thoughts, your thoughts beliefs, and then you acted. But feeling is only step one.
I took my time feeling through this message. It felt good to do so. Feeling through it made me arrive at a place of security and stability. I was very excited to discuss what I was seeing in this ask. I was very excited and grateful to know unequivocally, and to trust in my perception, that I know what I'm about.
Today, I care less about all of this. You probably care less too. This is the nature of feelings.
My final thoughts:
Reactionary criticism is not real criticism! Your opinions are inconsequential to me.
Your message here is all claws and no wit, and it immediately feels like attempting to reason with an irate wildcat: it is self-assured, it is self-oriented, it is self-defensive, and it does not speak my language. Did you intend for this? Are you human enough to come back from this?
If you can only tolerate sanitized "safe" art, then you have nothing inside that I find to be of merit. I am not interested in your lack of interest for the macabre or damning.
You can find things stupid if you want. But as of now, I do not trust that you think things through enough to have meaningful judgements.
Did you actually read through all of this? You didn't have to. I'm glad to write, even if I only imagine that it's reaching an audience. This is actually a good method of processing your feelings. I would recommend it next time you want to send an impulsive ask!
Goodbye!
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