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weird-and-unwell · 3 months

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“Autism isn’t a disability”, “it’s just a difference”.

I am of lower support needs. I hold down a (part time) job. I have travelled around my home country. I live alone.

At work they complain about my speech. I’m too quiet, they say, “barely audible” is the words used at my autism assessment. My voice is all monotone, and it needs to be more expressive. I get this complaint every week for a year straight, until my manager gives up. I don’t attend trainings because I forget and find it overwhelming anyways. My coworkers form friendships, and I watch them talk, wondering how they make it look so easy. I get a new manager, I tell her I find the work socials too overwhelming to attend. She tells me I can just say I don’t want to come. I don’t know how to tell her that I desperately want to, to be like the rest of my coworkers, instead of constantly being the one sat on the sidelines.

I come home, and I can hear my neighbours again. The niggling background noise messes with my head, and I meltdown; I throw myself on the floor, I hit my head on the ground repeatedly as I scream and cry, tear out my hair and scratch my arms and face. When I complain, people tell me that I just have to accept that neighbours make noise, that I should just ignore it, or block it out. I am the problem, the one overreacting. I put in earplugs and it hurts and I'm crying again. I wear headphones but I can't handle the noise for that long.

I have reminders set for everything. Every chore, no matter how big or small. My phone beeps at me, reminding me that I need to wash the dishes. If I don't go now, then tick the little box on my phone to say I did it, it won't get done. My home is almost always a mess despite this. It's not just chores either. I won't think to wash, dress myself, brush my teeth or hair, without those reminders. And unless someone actively prompts me to do so, I will do those tasks "wrong". I haven't changed my underwear in a month, and I'm currently aware that's a problem, but within the hour I'm going to forget all over again until I'm next prompted.

I can't sleep without medication - it's not unusual for autistic people to have messed up circadian rhythms. Without my medication it's hard to even tell when I'm awake and when I'm asleep. When I was younger and at school I slept through so many lessons, and when I have my mandatory breaks from my sleep meds I sleep through every alarm I set. I want to work full time some day, and I'm terrified of what my sleep issue will mean for me then.

I don't travel independently. I don't travel anywhere alone, always with someone or to someone. If to someone, I have assistance the whole way. I find it embarrassing sometimes. Yes, I have a job that requires a certain level of intelligence. No, I cannot get on a train by myself. If I am not shown To The Train, To My Seat, I will be unable to travel.

Last time I travelled, I was left alone at the station for ten minutes. I stayed rigid and sobbed the whole time. I was overwhelmed. It was too loud, I didn't know where I was or where I was meant to be going, and until the assistance person came back I couldn't do anything because for some reason I cannot understand it.

I spend a lot of time trying to explain to people that despite my relative competence, I am unable to do many things. Why can I understand high level maths but not how to get on a damn train? No fucking idea.

"Autism isn't a disability" most severely affects those with higher support needs, and this is absolutely not to take away from them. But for fucks sake, autism is disabling.

Maybe you personally are extremely lucky and just find you're a little "socially awkward", or just find some textures painful or nauseating. Maybe you would be fine with just a couple of adjustments.

But for a lot of us, even lower support needs autistics, it doesn't work like that. I will never sleep properly without medication. I still have the self-harming type of meltdowns as an adult, over things that are deemed as being "just part of life". I live alone but have daily visits from family - if I'm left fully alone I forget all the little daily things one is "meant" to do. I had speech therapy as a child to get me to the "barely audible" "mostly correct" speech. I don't mask, I'm not really sure how I would to begin with.

I'm not unhappy with being autistic. It's just who I am. Life would be easier if I were neurotypical, but I also wouldn't be me. I just wish those luckier than me could...stop saying it's all chill and not at all a disability.

Because yes, socially, I am "awkward". I obviously don't make eye contact - I stare down and to the side of whoever I speak to. People think it's weird or creepy or a sign of disinterest. My autism assessor wrote down about how I often use words and phrases that don't make sense to others, even though they make perfect sense to me. In my daily life this means I'm frequently misunderstood, and have to try explain what I mean, when what I mean is exactly what I said, and the true issue is that what I mean just doesn't make sense to others. I gesture, at times, but again, my gestures apparently don't make sense in relation to what I'm saying. I take things literally, I have almost no filter, and I can't explain how I go from topic to topic.

And yes, I do have sensory problems. Sometimes people, including others with sensory problems, tell me that "sometimes sensory issues have to be tolerated", and I wonder what they think of as being sensory issues. I'm sure they do struggle, but if I say I can't handle a touch, I mean you will need to forcefully hold it against me for me to touch it more than a second and it will make me meltdown. If I say "I can't eat that", I mean that I am unable to swallow it, that I will gag and choke and inevitably spit it back out, as much as I try. If I say I can't handle a noise, I mean I'm so close to a meltdown and my meltdowns are a problem for everyone around me.

But yes. Autism. Not a disability. Just a fun quirky difference.

#actually autistic #autistic #long post #autism

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quodekash · 7 months

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GUESS WHAT BITCHES KANGSAILOM HAVE KISSED AND NOW ITS TIME FOR ME TO HAVE A HEART ATTACK BECAUSE OF THEM, ALL OVER AGAIN (im so hoping it doesnt take me 2-3 hours to watch this episode again but it honestly probably will)

I KNEW THE FRIKIN BACK PAIN THING WOULD COME BACK INTO PLAY

ISTG IF THESE BITCHES KILL HER THEY'LL ALL HAVE HELL TO PAY

NOT MY GRANDMA MILF GODDESS QUEEN SHIP-CAPTAIN

NOT ON MY WATCH

PFFFFFFFFT

oh honey

he's desperately pleading, he wants to tell him but he doesnt want to say it, he wants sailom to know what he's thinking and what he feels and what he wants and what he needs, but he still doesnt understand his own feelings and thoughts and desires

why did you kiss me? why aren't you talking to me properly? why are we here, in this locker room? why do you like me? do you like me? why can't everything be simple?

all condensed into a simple word

and he's avoiding eye contact, he cannot look at kang and he will not look at kang but it's not like it used to be, where he wouldn't look at kang because kang didn't deserve the respect, where he would only look at kang to smile and laugh at him because he doesnt fear him, no this time he wont look at him because he's afraid. afraid of the answer, afraid that he's wrong, afraid that he's right

AND HE WIPES HIS MOUTH

AND KANG IS WATCHING THE WIPE SO ATTENTIVELY

he sees sailom wipe his lips, rid himself of their kiss, rid himself of this conversation and of the fears and thoughts and questions and confusion, and kang just wants him to know what he feels but he doesnt know what he feels and the best he could put it was through that kiss, and kang had to watch as sailom removed any trace and feeling of it from his mouth

ouch

LOOK AT HIM

YOU CAN SEE HIS SWIRLING HURTING THOUGHTS

perth and chimon are both such astounding actors I cannot fathom them

PLENTY MORE CHANCES TO TALK TO EACH OTHER PROPERLY WHEN YOU'VE FIGURED OUT WHAT IS GOING ON IN YOUR MIND AND HEART

is this not post-patpran-rooftop-kiss-scene

its literally exactly the same

THE LITTLE LIP BITE I CANT

its the small little nuances and facial expressions and tiny reactions and thoughts communicated on their faces

is nuances the right word to use there? idk, it's fine

LMAO IM-

WAIT SO THIS QUESTION IS POPPED AT THE START OF THE EPISODE??? DAMNNNNN

MAN HE'S GOT A WAY WITH WORDS

and I mean that genuinely

WEAR YOUR SEATBELT BITCH, WHAT THE HELL

WHY IS NEITHER OF THEM WEARING THEIR SEATBELT

GUYS

DRIVING IS DANGEROUS

ITS A HIGH-RISK ACTIVITY

AND YEAH MAYBE A TINY STRIP ACROSS YOUR TORSO DOESNT SEEM LIKE IT DOES MUCH, BUT IT'S STILL BLOODY IMPORTANT BECAUSE IT COULD BE THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A BONK AND A SPLATTER IF YOU CATCH MY MEANING

SEATBELTS ARE IMPORTANT FOLKS

WEAR THEM

Y E S

HE OPENED THE FRIKIN DOOR

LETS GOOOOOOOOOO

are we finally gonna get the scene ive seen in the end credits so many times and die every time I see it where they're lying in bed together and smiling at each other and ghkerbgjksdb

FUGWE9JOGSBNVPIWEKGNPIVWEKNMSDGPOVKNERIPKDNGPBIVKERVLNDPOGIKNVEPORILKSNDGPBVOIKERNMD-OFPSGKJBVEPS

OML THE HITTING ON HIM SAGA/MONTAGE

THESE PARTS ARE ALWAYS SOME OF MY FAVOURITES

AND THESE TWO GOT TO IT A LOT FASTER THAN MOST OF THE OTHERS IVE SEEN GEUIRJGBKSD

GOUEWBJDSG THE BLOW KISS

HE'S SO UNASHAMED

IM LOSING MY MIND

THIS IS EVERYTHING I COULDVE DREAMED FOR

HOLY FRICK I LOVE HIM

THIS IS AMAZING

IM SOBBING FROM HOW HARD IM LAUGHING

I CANT GET OVER "ill eat you then, because I like you" LIKE DAMN BRO THAT WAS SMOOTH AND MY MIDNIGHT BRAIN SOMEHOW DIDNT SEE THAT VERY OBVIOUS FLIRT SETUP COMING AND I LOST IT

HIS HAPPY LITTLE SMILE OMG I CANT

fR I C K

it's okay it's okay, she just has a bad hip, she's not gonna die I swear she's not gonna die

also can we just take a moment to honour the mesh shirt kang's wearing?

savour the moment a bit longer...

let the moment of appreciation last...

okay that is all thank you for joining me in worship

A L S O let's just think about this. im guessing grandma and dad and that nurse are all going to the hospital.

whICH MEANS the two gay-ass teenagers who are gay-ass specifically for EACH OTHER are gonna be home alone in a huge-ass mansion for a while

I wonder what they could possibly spend their time doing

what are you eating, sailom 👀

THE HAND RESTING ON HIS SHOULDER

BOYFRIEND BEHAVIOUR MAKES A COMEBACK

THE EYEBROWS-- I CANT

they're really channelling the patpran this episode

and im so happy about it

"just go straight" lmao good luck with that one buddy

breaking news: it comes as a shock to absolutely no one: quodekash has, once again, run out of images. a new post will be made for your enjoyment shortly (but it wont be posted for at least an hour because I cannot watch things at a normal pace and the post wont be posted until I either run out of images or finish the episode, whichever comes first)

#quodekash disregards sleep because of dangerous romance #dangerous romance #dangerous romance series #dangerous romance the series #kangsailom #kanghansailom #sailomkang #sailomkanghan #perthchimon #chimonperth #perth tanapon #chimon wachirawit

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soupydumplingss · 11 months

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Sweet Venom.

Warnings: Female!Reader x Any NCT member (according to your imagination), angst!au, non-idol!au, reader is an alcoholic, unhealthy marriage, the male is cheating on her, the member is mentally unstable asf, reader is mentally unstable af in a way too, profanities (not much tho ig?...), reader cries in the end.

Note: Italics in "double inverted commas": ongoing conversation

Italics: reader is thinking

Normal letters: narration

The reader first starts the conversation and the member and reader speak simultaneously.

Prompt: "I can finally be me now. There's no serpent wrapped around my neck choking me. I'm free then."

Walking down the streets of Berlin, it's approximately 8:30 p.m. The bustling streets of the city are still full of life. A heavy backpack slung on one side of your shoulder, the first two buttons of your shirt unbuttoned with your tie hanging loose. Stumbling in your path, drunk, you just want to go home. As you fumble for the keys to your door, you suddenly drop something from your bag. A keychain. Specifically a keychain with initials on it. You kick it away somewhere.

After unlocking the door, you enter your house and lock the door. You kick your shoes somewhere and head to your room. Upon entering your room, a strange hit of nostalgia hits. A cabinet full of trophies, a heavy bunch of medals and certificates adorning the wall. Oh, what a kid I was, you thought. Now look at you, a working machine that runs 24/7 with little to no rest. You look at old pictures of yourself on the cabinet, smiling with your teeth on display. At least it's not fake.

Your younger self would've been proudly looking at you as the rich and successful woman she envisioned you as. But the current you isn't proud at all. Sitting in front of your computer on the topmost floor of your company, always working with a bunch of papers blocking your face, a failed marriage, all the youth evaporated from your face. You've forgotten about yourself, forgotten what happiness is, forgotten priorities. Did you forget your dear husband can still come into the house and see you in your heavily drunken state? Aren't you ashamed of picking another bottle of Hennessy from the cupboard in your kitchen and drinking straight from it?

"Why are you in my house again? To take the remaining of your stuff? If yes, then please be fast and get out."

"Just sign the papers and be out of my sight."

"So much for the man who himself was sleeping with another woman. And for the record, this is my house."

"You never gave time to us. She was there when I needed someone to stay by me, not you."

"So that's a good reason to break the vows you made in church? Remember who works harder."

"And that "who" forgets us. You've changed a lot. I love you very much, but she was just there."

"I think this proves that you were always unfaithful and ungrateful."

"You're moving from the fucking point."

"People who cannot express themselves properly stick to the usage of such crude words." You gulp the alcohol from the bottle.

"Still the woman who spits sweet venom even after being drunk. When will you stop this habit of returning home drunk?"

"It's my money. I can spend it as I want to."

"Baby, I left her. I want us to work out as we used to. I'll move back my stuff in."

Lies. That little stain of lipstick on your collar, a few long strands of the brunette's hair, her favorite perfume lingering on you, your puffy lips with a hint of pink on them, your hair ruffled. How much more lies will you feed me? You reek the smell of sex.

I don't think this will work out. I don't think we will work out."

Tears drop from the eyes of the man in front of you. He falls to his knees and hugs your legs while sobbing hard. "I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I won't do it again. I love you very much, honey."

You feel disgusted. Same old empty words, all lies. What's the point of this man using his words when it's all fake? I can literally see her in your car outside.

"I'll sign the papers just as you said. Be out of my sight."

You pulled your legs from his grip. As you take the pen from your pocket, you sign the papers and throw them on his face.

"As I said, be out of my range of sight with the remaining of your stuff."

You took off the beautiful diamond ring adorning your hand and threw it on his face. Drinking does help with unsolicited feelings.

He picked up his stuff and the ring while exiting the house. Finally.

A feeling of odd peace hits you. You feel empty. Were we ever meant for each other? Was it worth it? At least we both spared each others' remaining happiness, you thought. You went inside your room. Opening the door of your large bathroom, you fill the bathtub and hop in with your clothes on and the bottle of alcohol in your hand. You let the tap run. You're wet head to toe now. You think about the fight earlier. ""Still the woman who spits sweet venom after being drunk?" You were my sweet venom, the one who seemed as sweet as sugar but turned out to be a serpent." A fresh stream of tears leave your eyes, dripping down your face as you keep chugging the alcohol down your throat.

"I can finally be me now. There's no serpent wrapped around my neck choking me. I'm free then."

Author: help pls im a new writer 😭 i literally wrote this in 2 hours. forgive me if there is any error in the spellings. this story does seem very unclear without any context but somehow, it feels so right like this. I appreciate any support.

The above gif doesn't belong to me. Only the story and writings belong to me. Please do not copy my writings.

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leogichidaa · 5 months

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Psychoanalysis Sunday: Winter Interlude

Non-magical AU where Regulus is put in therapy with a psychoanalyst

Part 1 | Previous | Next

"I am going to write to mum and tell her that - "

"You can tell her whatever you like," Sirius snaps. "She isn't going to change my mind and neither are you. I'm staying here for the holidays. I've got something really important I'm working on."

Regulus makes a face. There is no chance that Sirius plans on staying at Hogwarts to work on his studies. He is almost certainly going to engage in some sort of unsavory extracurricular activities with his friends.

"Yes, I am sure whatever it is is of the utmost importance," he says sourly.

Sirius fixes him with a hard look. "It is."

Sirius' expression is surprisingly austere. Regulus' lip curls. "You just want to stay here with your weird, sick friend. I do not understand why he cannot be weird and sick in his own home - or do his parents not want him? I suppose they must not."

"He is not weird, you little arsehole," Sirius growls.

So he is sick, then, Regulus thinks, tucking that confirmation away in the back of his mind. Not that it wasn't already fairly clear that the Lupin weirdo was suffering from something unfortunate, but it was good to know for sure.

"And his parents do want him home because they actually properly love him."

Regulus jumps on the bait immediately. "What is that supposed to mean?" he asks sharply. "Mum and dad do want you home, that is the whole point of this conversation! You are the one insisting on staying here!"

"They don't want me home. They want a - a - " Sirius waves his hands vaguely. "A perfect little doll that they can dress up and show off to all their snobby little friends so everyone can pretend that they're great parents. Like you. They want me to come home and act like you and honestly, I would rather jump off the Astronomy Tower than ever act like you."

Regulus flinches. "Shut up," he mutters, his eyes starting to sting. Sirius can tell his words managed to hit home and he looks savagely pleased. "That is not even true."

"Bullshit," Sirius says. "They say it all the time." He pitches his voice high and nasally in a mocking tone that sounds absolutely nothing like their mother at all, and says, "Why can you not be more like your brother, Sirius? Why don't you behave like perfect Regulus?"

Regulus balls up his fists and clenches his jaw, trying to focus on his anger to keep himself from the humiliating ordeal of crying in front of Sirius.

"Don't get it wrong," Sirius continues. "It isn't because they love you so. It isn't because they think you're wonderful. It's because you're a bloody empty vessel that they can fill with all their stupid ideas because you haven't a single thought of your own."

"Shut up!" Regulus repeats, louder and more determined this time.

Sirius looks at his balled up fists and smirks. "Why, what are you going to do about it? You going to hit me? No, you won't do that. You'll just write pathetic little notes about how much you wish you were brave enough to kill me so they send you to the head shrinker again and you can have all that lovely attention."

"I hate you. I hope you do jump off the Astronomy Tower."

Sirius shakes his head smugly. "Just as I thought. Go and write that to mum, why don't you?" he says, before turning on his heel and walking off.

Regulus watches him go around the corner before letting out a frustrated yell and slamming his fist against the wall, which turns out to be alarmingly solid and distressingly painful.

"I hate you," he mutters again, tears starting to flow down his cheeks now that he is alone. "I hate you so much."

He means it. He really does. He can feel the hot intensity of the hatred coursing through him.

So he can't quite work out why he still wants Sirius to stop being a prat and just come home.

#psychoanalysis sunday #regulus black #sirius black #house of black

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royalbilliards · 1 year

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Now that you’re done, what are your thoughts on our fav failking Maruki?

So I’ve been sitting on this question a while. I didn’t know how to really express my opinions properly that weren’t in the usual comedic tone I pick up when I talk about the things I love, but I really wanted to answer this question wholeheartedly, so here we are!

Firstly, I need to get my actual thoughts about Persona 5 Royal out of the way, because I love this game. I truly and completely love this game, and it’s knocked BOTW out of the number one placement spot for my favourite game of all time. Everything from the characters, story, music, even the UI design have me absolutely floored, and I genuinely cannot think of a game I could say tops it for me. I listen to the soundtrack daily, and constantly think about the game when I can. I have so many complex thoughts about the game I could talk about here, but since this is just about my opinions on Maruki, I’ll keep those to myself.

Moving on, Maruki is, I feel, one of my favourite characters of all time. He’s so interesting and well-written, his motives make sense, and for the audience it’s sympathetic. We understand why he’s doing what he does, even if it’s wrong. He cares a lot about people, but he cares too much, and it’s his downfall. He wants to make everyone happy, and it’s just impossible. He can’t live knowing someone would be slightly upset. He worked for multiple years to create his perfect reality, presumably trying to figure out a way to help everyone he could, when the opportunity to help everyone landed right in his lap. This was the most important thing to him, and it’s admirable as it is stupid. The loss of that desire, the loss of that ability to help everyone he could, his failed reality and the fact that no matter how hard he tried, he still couldn’t succeed did a massive number on his mental state. Though, I feel as though he mostly survived on his need to help people rather than any positive mental state for a while. I mean, the second he loses that desire, loses years of work and watches as it crumbles and shatters around him, he fully gives up and tries to kill himself (something which Ren was in no way shape or form going to allow). His love for people is what drove him, and his love for people almost drove him to his death.

I feel like a lot of people misunderstand Maruki and what he was meant to represent, He's not one of those “rotten adults.'' He's a broken and hurt man who hadn’t been allowed to express his emotions, and suffered hit after hit (his studies being cut short, his lab being turned into a stadium, his fiancé having a mental breakdown and going catatonic) and tried to fight his emotions by helping other people instead of focusing oh himself. Hence him becoming a therapist and trying to help other people out with their problems as opposed to focusing on his own.

I’ve realised people tend to get angry at Maruki because he was a twist villain. They trusted him and he turned out to be the last boss of the game, and whilst this is understandable, it’s also fucking stupid to stay mad. Characters like this tend to get a lot of shit treatment and I’ve seen people complain multiple times about games having obvious villains, only to complain and get genuinely angry when a twist villain is revealed to be a character they got attached to or trusted. (An example of this is Volo from Legends: Arceus.) Maruki is very much one of these. People are allowed to feel how they want, however these communities of people are so loud, and it makes it hard to find accurate and earnest portrayals of the characters. Instead, what's more prevalent is an insane twisting of the truth people do to justify their anger, or portrayals present in order to have a “villain” for fan content. They do this without realising that the point is that anyone can mess up, and Maruki isn’t a villain for what he did.

To me, Maruki represents guilt and trying to catch an elusive “happy ending." The story of the game is riddled with tragedy and it mostly sticks to its guns about keeping these tragedies permanent. The characters wouldn’t be who they were without the sadness that’s befallen them. The reality Maruki tried to make (and what a lot of people who try to “fix” the canon of a story) made no sense for the characterisation of the characters or who they became as a person because the reasons were erased. There is no happy ending to Persona 5, there is no way to fix everything, and I feel a lot of people may have seen Maruki as an attack on this. It’s okay to feel sad about how something ended, but sometimes you just gotta accept it.

This has gotten pretty wordy, and it’s just a long winded way to say that my opinions on Maruki haven’t changed all that much, other than those 4 hours I spent on merciless trying to beat his fucking fight and getting more and more wound up each time I fucking failed. Anyways, the point is I love him, I love the game, and if anyone is meanies to him again I’ll fucking kill them all with my autism laser beams.

#anon #ask #virtype

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flutishly · 10 months

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LBD rewatch, part 4

It wasn’t easy getting back into the swing of Lydia’s final arc. It was hard to watch live, it was hard to rewatch not long afterward, and it remains hard to rewatch. Part of this has to do with the dread leading up to the reveal. Part of this has to do with the fact that even a decade later, I am somewhat disappointed by some of the acting/directing choices in “An Understanding”, particularly on Lydia’s end. I know that I’m usually quite in the minority on the latter end, but still. I grimace every time; there’s something deeply theatrical in how Lydia presents herself there and it comes in sharp contrast with the much more natively portrayed Lizzie. There are things that I still love about it, of course. I cannot make it through the whole video without crying, even today. The lines “I love you! [...] I love you!” break me every single time. Even just rewatching a few seconds of those lines in order to write this post have me crying. But I can also never quite shake off the feeling that the video is still very much a product of being an extended scene, with moments that could easily have been replaced by better takes left intact when they shouldn’t have been.

And then the pressure eases, just slightly. The tension changes. The viewer who knows what happens in Pride and Prejudice waits for the second shoe to drop. But in the meantime, the plot ticks along in plain view. Gigi’s Domino videos hit differently nowadays than in 2013 in large part because of how... not weird the app is? Like at the time, there was a sense of “yeah, sure, whatever, as if”, but then today there are literally apps that are all about video presentation for the sake of more drama (........), which granted don’t seem to have the same sort of AI on display, but let’s be real, how far off can it be? (grimace grimace grimace)

There are other irritating aspects of the Gigi subplot. I find myself even more impatient over how infantilizing Darcy and Fitz are, in their treatment of Gigi as someone entirely under their care. While it is sweet and admirable to want to support your sister/friend in the context of some pretty fresh trauma, it’s not cute to do so against her express wishes or the place she’s asking to be. Gigi is an adult in this adaptation. A younger adult, sure, but she’s not a teen like Maria and she has a lot more agency over her story. It kind of sucks to watch Darcy and Fitz shut her out the way that they do, even if it all ends up well (sort of). More than that, it’s never properly addressed why Gigi continues to make these calls on the company’s demo, which is hugely inappropriate in terms of violating Lydia’s privacy. (On top of how Lizzie is already violating a whole lot of people’s privacy.)

And then there’s Bing’s return. It... mostly doesn’t work. I love how Jane plays it, honestly, and I love that Jane refuses to back down against her own position (and point out that, bro, you haven’t earned my trust back), but there’s a sense of disconnect. Maybe part of the problem is how the show initially portrays Bing and Jane’s relationship, as something so quaintly sweet and pure and abstract. Maybe part of the problem is that the way Bing breaks it off with Jane is so much worse in modern times. (Personally, if Jane was my friend, I’d probably be the one going “he’s not worth it, what a jerk, don’t you dare get back together with him, have you forgotten how I had to hug you on the bathroom floor while you sobbed over feeling inadequate? He’s the inadequate one, you’re worth so much more than him!” The fact that Lizzie doesn’t do that remains stunning in my mind.) Whatever it is, despite the rather valiant attempts at rehabilitating Bing, I couldn’t help grimace at how neatly they wrapped up this thread. The “I’ve been trying to figure myself out” thing is cute, sure! But it isn’t quite earned. There’s not enough of either Jane and Bing really being in love (and I don’t mean onscreen, I just mean in love and not the very idealized relationship Lizzie paints in early episodes) and then there certainly isn’t enough of them actually getting to re-know each other before Jane leaves. I understand why/how it happened as it did, but I almost wonder if it shouldn’t have happened offscreen. I don’t know.

Next: Darcy. Darcy is, as I mentioned, a not-too-appealing part of Gigi’s videos. They do give good insight into his behavior and the way that he handles himself (he’s definitely a very loving older brother, if too overprotective!), but they’re glimpses. I’m actually fine with that, I think. The reveal is also... okay? I don’t know. It’s very in-line with how LBD generally portrays “news that should not be public”, though I’ll admit that by this point in the series, it feels a whole lot less believable that these things would make it online. Even the way that Lizzie explicitly asks Lydia... feels a little strange. But not as strange as it should, disturbingly. Ah well.

Finally: Lizzie. It’s this little portion of story where Lizzie’s growth becomes apparent. She’s hesitant over a lot of things. She is smacked in the face - repeatedly - with the consequences of her own actions and words. She’s stunned into silence upon realizing how wrong she’s been in so many places. Watching Lizzie break down is, as I mentioned, the thing that gets to me every time. As much as the show does a brilliant job of showing us Lizzie’s faults, it does a better job of really making us love her. And so I can’t help but love how this arc plays out for her, even though the focus isn’t really on her.

Well, onto the last batch of episodes! Caroline’s about to return... that’s got to be the biggest drama ahead, no?

#lizzie bennet diaries #rewatching projects #The Great Webseries Rewatch #LBD #Longer thoughts #webseries

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yostresswritinggirl · 1 year

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I was referring to Japan’s Heian period! I really like the style from that era, especially since the Tale of Genji and the Pillow Book were written at the time by women. It does lean more towards luxurious stuff, though. But a lot of etiquette, I imagine, would be part of Scara and puppet reader’s mannerisms since they are quite old. Maybe puppet reader has an archaic way of speaking? Scara would have adapted to a more modern language but I do like the idea that these immortals have habits from long ago that didn’t really leave, yea? Because I do enjoy the thought that if Scara has a house built for him and puppet reader, it would be similar to how he envisions the world he wanted to create for them. Him possibly using a bunch of mora from his time as a Harbinger to either save up, or go straight ahead with building it.

What I enjoy most about these two is how their relationship works and what goes on in the setting outside of their interactions with other characters. How would Scara continue to provide for them as he had adopted the role of the provider and they have somewhat adopted the role of house spouse? Thoughts like that. At the same time, I lean towards there not really being a perfect label for them because there just… so much that is left unseen and unsaid because there’s so, so much history and fondness there. A bond that one cannot name and limit with titles. Because to name it is to give it definition, yes, but it then it limits what it is. And that doesn’t seem to fit them. (Philosophy class hit me hard, ig.) But they are immortal (like lobsters) and there are many things about their relationship that are just 💖.

Anyway, I was reading into the Heian era and I just enjoy how the arts flourished and now the thoughts of Scara and puppet reader playing these old, aristocratic games while the rest of the audience (Paimon) has no idea what the game even is or why it’s complicated. Reciting poetry while looking at the moon. (Or just playing simple games for fun and being happy.) Scara personally harvesting plants and making his own pigments to paint puppet reader’s nails and draw their red eyeliner. Think about the stories they could inspire together.

I am… overwhelmed with feelings. Like, yes plot is important but I always want to dig and see the characters outside of it. Who are they? What makes them “them” and why do they do things a certain way?

Red Eyeliner of Fate: Tales of Scara and Puppet Reader in Liyue? A new adventure guide coming to bookstores near you!

🌸bloom anon🌸

Oh yeah, I do understand that part but I was just unfamiliar with the era and its aesthetics haha thank you for elaborating here tho! The luxurious and elegance (etiquette) part I'm positive that the both of them were subjected to before they were abandoned, and I think it's more apparent with Scaramouche with how he talks and acts canonically (his gestures are honestly so smooth and expressive)

Puppet Reader has a hmm I'm not entirely sure how to describe it, because as implied by the story, their speech patterns were heavily influenced by the years of worship and prayers when they were staying by the sakura tree village! Respectful usually, flowery and taciturn

Scaramouche definitely got most of his caring, breadwinner attitude during those days when Reader is fragile. You can also call it projecting his insecurities of being considered worthless and useless so he made conscious effort to be needed, and it then turned into a part of his personality around them. Now that they're in good condition and have no Fatuus to do everything, they now have to deal with overprotective Scara insisting to do everything while they want to carry half of the work because they CAN and they really WANT to haha

And you're right about the label thing! Mostly because they don't feel the need to label it, it just feels natural, meant to be, probably a connection they realized that do not parallel most human relationships and so, unable to worded properly. They are everything. I've also made sure to lengthen the first part at best to establish how they are during their wandering days but I did miss some scenes sadly

Red Eyeliner of Fate is definitely what we can call this alternate timeline where it revolves around the good ending of them still being together hahaha

#bloom anon #exile.goblet #exile.reader #about kintsugi #about deepwood #scaramouche

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 8 months

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I have this new job as an autism therapist for kids, and a few days ago, I was working on reading with a client. I showed him a word and asked him what it said, and he looked right at me and told me it said “fuck”. Needless to say, the word on the card was not, in fact, “fuck”.

In a case like this, it is very important for the therapist to not respond at all. Just react exactly the same way we would if he had said the wrong word but not a swear word, correct it in a polite way as though we noticed nothing at all wrong. That’s just a kid who thinks getting attention for swearing is more fun than doing his reading, so if we give it even the slightest bit of attention, it’ll encourage the idea that any time he doesn’t feel like reading he should just say “fuck” instead, and then the therapist will have some kind of reaction and that’ll be funny. So we can’t show in any way, even in the smallest facial expression or tone of voice change, that we even noticed he said anything out of the ordinary.

This is a problem for me. A bigger problem than I realized it would be until I was in that situation. Because this kid has just said “fuck”, and is looking at me with this defiance on his face, like he’s daring me to be scandalized by it. And I was suddenly hit, hard and all at once, by how much his facial expression/general demeanour is exactly that of Stewart Lee in this sketch:

This summer I’ve had a bit of a crash course in Lee and Herring, watched/listened to all of Fist of Fun TV/radio, Lionel Nimrod, and TMWRNJ, before pausing that to watch/listen to nothing but Edinburgh shows for a few weeks, I’ve recently picked Lee and Herring back up with their Radio One show. So I have most sketches they’ve ever done fairly fresh in my mind, and can therefore say with some confidence that that video, which was the first in their series of teacher sketches, is at least in my top five favourite sketches Lee and Herring have ever done. I liked all the teacher sketches, but I don’t think I found any subsequent ones quite as funny as the first.

And out of this whole sketch, my favourite moment is definitely when Stewart Lee stared the kid down after saying “that’s right, I said fuck”. I think it comes out so perfectly because it fits right into what Stewart Lee is brilliant at. Since Fist of Fun, he's built a stand-up career on his ability to stare down an audience, daring them to take issue with the increasingly ridiculous claims he's making. Here he is, showing off his early ability to make that fucking hilarious, by giving a concentrated dose of it to one person in a school-based sketch.

That, and it came just after an somewhat inexplicably hilarious example of the brief text on screen thing they used to do a lot. I say it's inexplicable, not because it shouldn't be funny, but because it shouldn't be this funny. I cannot properly explain why I thought this bit of text was the funniest of all the brief text on screen things they ever did. I'm almost sorry that I think that, because there were other brief text on screen things that had a lot more jokes in them, that had clearly taken much more effort to write. But for some reason, this specific bit of text made me laugh harder than any of it:

I just found it an unbearably funny moment. I wish I could write into the BBC and have them mail me (sorry, post me) a photo of Stewart Lee with a false beard drawn on him and a speech bubble saying "fuck" coming out of his mouth. I mean, they might send me that if I requested it. It seems worth a shot.

Anyway, it was a genuine problem at work. A real, actual problem. I'm looking at this kid across the table, trying to ignore him, and all I can see is Stewart Lee looking at me like this:

immediately following an offer to write into the BBC and have them send me a photo of Stewart Lee with a false beard saying "fuck". I managed to stop myself from openly bursting into laughter. But I was definitely visibly stifling giggles, far more than I should have been. I'll go in with better resolve next time. I just need to think of anything but Stewart Lee, when someone looks at me with a face that says "that's right, I said fuck".

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auyouni · 2 years

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just say you won’t let go // septiplier

Jack doesn’t know why he does this to himself.

Really, who else is this self-sabotaging? Asking the straight guy he’s in love with to be his fake boyfriend for Christmas Eve is crossing a line that he never wanted to cross, but, to be fair… He never expected Mark to say yes. He knows it’s for the money, of course, that Jack had just offered up a price that he simply couldn’t refuse, but the genuine excitement on his best friend’s face at the idea of finally meeting Jack’s family had been worth that small heartbreak. He feels guilty for not doing it sooner, hiding Mark away like some dirty little secret – which is kinda accurate, but he is in no way ashamed of being friends with him, or… anything else about Mark, really. The only shame he carries is reserved specifically for himself.

It’s just so complicated to be around Mark. All sorts of emotional turmoil and their shared concerning past, and really, it was easier to just never properly introduce them than deal with those things in the light of day, where he can be ashamed of how in love he is with him, of how much he’d do or spend just to keep him by his side for a millisecond longer. He hasn’t even really told the few friends he still has – it’s just too much, always too much.

And, oddly, never enough.

His fingers drum rapidly on the driving wheel as he creeps along the ice slick roads, suppressing the urge to glance over at Mark as best he can. He’d surprised him when Jack picked him up, wearing a tux that fit him perfectly, hugging his body in ways that Jack really cannot afford to be distracted by tonight.

Still, because Jack’s eyes are always drawn to Mark, he finds himself looking over when they’re at a stoplight.

His hands hover over the vents blasting heat, trying to warm himself up as much as possible, head slightly bouncing along to whatever song is on the radio (Roses by The Chainsmokers, he thinks?), the streetlights illuminating him beautifully, with a small smile on his lips as he gazes out at the snow fluttering down around the car… Suddenly, Mark’s head turns a little, eyes catching his, and Jack can see just how excited he is, the genuine joy in his expression at being able to do this with him… He can’t help the smile rising to his lips in response, heart so full of his best friend in that moment that he’s sure he’ll cry.

He doesn’t.

It’s becoming easier and easier for him to hide strong emotions from Mark, burdens that only he has to bear, and he’s utterly thankful for it. If he knew… If he knew how Jack truly felt, he’d run the other way and never look back. The idea twists his gut a little, and he feels oddly ill, but he can’t dwell on it because Mark is saying something now, tugging him back down to reality with a soft hand on his shoulder.

“Jack,” Mark says, a barely concealed laugh in his voice, and the Irish boy is certain that his name has never sounded as good as it does coming from his lips, “the light’s green.” Jack blinks a little, surprised, and turns to see that Mark’s right. His cheeks burn as he hits the gas, wishing it wasn’t so easy for him to be distracted by his feelings for his best friend. It’s ridiculous, inconvenient, and…

Wholly unrequited.

“Sorry, got a bit distracted,” he says, a tad sheepish. Mark’s eyes don’t leave his face, and Jack wishes he could see his expression. Does he know? He has to by now. It’s not like you’re subtle…

“Thinking about how hard you’re gonna fuck me tonight?” Mark asks, voice teasing and just a little bit lower – he knows how to get Jack riled up with ease. Jack splutters, blushing, and now that the words are out there, he can’t think of anything besides Mark moaning and wanton beneath him, begging for—

“W-who says I’m fuckin’ you t’night?” he asks in lieu of answering, jumping onto the new topic. It may not be safe, but at least it’s far, far away from his real feelings toward Mark.

“Oh come on, Sean,” Mark says in a sultry voice, leaning forward, and Jack can’t help a small shiver, “I know you by now. You were giving me serious bedroom eyes when I walked out of my house.” Oh, like he could’ve helped that - the beautiful boy had dressed up for him, suit and tie and just… damn.

“I paid for a weekend o’ bein’ my fake boyfriend, Mark – I don’t have enough money f’r sex,” he manages to get out, feeling guilty and disappointed in himself for not being able to afford it.

It’s quiet for a few moments, the radio the only thing breaking the silence. Here we go again / I kinda wanna be more than friends / so take it easy on me / I’m afraid you’re never satisfied… Jack changes the channel quickly, hoping Mark doesn’t notice.

“Well… doesn’t being a boyfriend usually involve that?” Mark asks, and Jack’s a little taken off-guard. His head whips to face him, eyes wide, but the other boy is staring straight ahead, looking deep in thought, teeth catching at his lower lip. Jack gulps, forcing himself to look back to the road before he drives them into a sign or something.

“I-I… I guess, yeah,” he manages, voice coming out a little weak, waiting a little desperately for Mark to continue, though he’s certain that he wouldn’t actually be offering—

“Well then, you… I mean, you paid quite a bit for the full boyfriend experience…” There’s something a little off about Mark’s voice, something almost kind of… worried? But then Mark’s lips are suddenly inches from Jack’s ear, murmuring, “So I want you to fuck me tonight, sweetheart. Feel your cock deep inside of me, while your parents sleep in the other room… Want you so, so badly, Sean...” Jack’s muscles are tight with the effort of keeping himself from jumping Mark then and there, car crash be damned, and it's the hardest thing he's ever had to do to keep his eyes trained on the road. It’s a familiar game, after all, but one that he’s probably never going to get used to. “My boyfriend.” Jack moans at that, turning a little too harshly into an empty parking lot and hurriedly putting the car in park. It’s all a dirty lie, he knows this – but he also knows that he’s never once stood a chance at resisting Mark when he does shit like this, especially with that one single word that resonates so deeply within Jack. His seatbelt hits something as he tosses it aside – like he cares – and then he’s on Mark, pressing him against the passenger door and kissing him. The boy beneath him wraps his arms around him easily as he kisses back just as eagerly.

He always knew how to put on a good show, make it so believable that Jack’s certain that Mark wants him just as much as the Irishman always has. When his lips press against his, devouring him whole, Jack can forget that this isn’t real, that he’s not actually allowed to want this.

But for one whole weekend, he is. For one weekend it’ll be real, Jack will be able to hold his hand, fix his hair, compliment him, tell everyone and anyone who will listen just how much he adores this boy with the beautiful brown eyes and the ridiculous levels of charm, who throws marshmallows at him whenever he wins at a game and tickles him in the worst possible settings and sits with him in his car and has long, deep chats with in the middle of the night, leans against him as he drifts off to sleep…

It’s all allowed.

Mark is, for the weekend, only his, and the idea alone is enough to make Jack want to cry. Instead, he just kisses him harder, holds him closer, and tries to let himself believe it.

“J-Jack, we’re gonna be late,” Mark says a few hickeys later, top few buttons of his shirt undone and hair a mess, still squirming under him as Jack’s teeth scrape along the sensitive skin of his neck. He’s not an idiot – none of these will actually be visible, except for maybe the edge of one, but it’s enough for him.

“Mhmm?” he hums as a reply, nipping softly at a sensitive spot just below Mark’s jaw. Nothing in the world matters as much to him in that moment as the beautiful sounds spilling from his lips.

“We n-need to go,” he tries again. “Don’t wanna g-get there after everyone e-else…”

Jack doesn’t respond for a few seconds, lips meeting his in a deep kiss, taking the moment to just taste him. When he finally pulls away, a string of saliva connecting their lips, he smirks down at him, eyes hooded. “Even if I, say… sucked y’r dick?” Mark bites back a moan, squirming more (he couldn’t help loving the Irish boy’s blowjobs, often trying to figure out casual ways to ask for one – though Jack always seems to offer, anyway), and Jack’s smirk grows, hand sliding down Mark’s side.

“Fuck.” Mark shuts his eyes briefly, seemingly at war with himself, and then he's peering back out at Jack, pupils blown too wide. “We can't. I wanna make a good first impression on your parents.”

Jack sighs, trying to be upset, but really, he's biting back a smile. “Fine, I guess. But I'm definitely suckin’ you off later t’night, first chance I get.” It looks like Mark blushes at that, but it can't be, right? It's just the lighting, he's sure.

Mark leans in, pressing a short kiss to his lips - and despite its brevity, it's still enough to leave Jack breathless.

“You may also wanna fix y’rself up a bit… ya look a bit sexed up,” Jack tacks on teasingly, winking at Mark, and the other boy rolls his eyes, grinning back at him.

“Hmm, I wonder whose fault that was?” he replies, pushing at Jack's shoulder with a small laugh.

“Um, fuckin’ yours!”

“Was not!”

“Was too!”

“Was not!”

“Really? And who was th’ one whispering in my ear like a damn temptress??? Can't fault me f'r givin’ in, I'm just a man.”

Mark snorts softly, eyes flickering with amusement, and god, but Jack just wants to spend the rest of the night in this car with him, joking and chatting and letting the rest of the world pass them by beyond the fogged up windows.

Let everyone else take the world, Jack just wants Mark.

#fic #septiplier #twenty dollar au #sean #mark #not main

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witchofthevale · 6 months

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I think there is type of people who have problems irl and they go venting and sending rude asks to people in every fandom because that is how they cope with anger. It's wrong though. I have anger issues but I am on therapy for 5 years and I learned to be part of fandom by using block button. I have specific criteria about hotd fandom. Anti Alicent blog? Block. Pro Daemon Targaryen blog? Block. Pro Viserys Targaryen? Block. Shitting on Alys and Gayle before she even appeared on screen? Block. Writing smut with tropes I don't like? Block. I am very picky, but it's impossible to try to engage with everyone esp when they like characters I hate. I know new users read every Aemond fic even though they don't enjoy them because they feel pressured to read each of them because they want to fit in. My advice is: don't read things that disturb you. Read 3 chapters of each fic writer and ask yourself Do I really enjoy it? Or it's meh for me? It's okay to dislike a fic. It's okay to block people so you'll never hear from them again. Feel no shame in blocking people. For me blocking people I don't vibe with it's like taking out the trash. It's good when they're not around.

Fun quip just because it's relative, but I started reading this right when my melatonin kicked in and I tried to figure out the tone if I was getting my first anon hate just from the paranoia of recent events jshdjshd. Sorry, too funny and actually quite sad not to share lol. I just felt discombobulated by getting this and at the random time ahaha!

Anyways, this is a lot and I wanna reply properly, have Elle's off-tangent reply thoughts because ADHD and 3am. I think I'm still coherent.

I mean for the most part, nons, I agree with your core sentiment. Block button is definitely good for sanctifying your space, in a place like fandom where you will interact with a level of unrestrained level of self expression, anything that helps you make it easier to navigate such a thing is basic form of self preservation.

For most of us, fandom is a space of comfort and when ugly shit rises, it really hits hard because your comfort is being threatened.

For another, if it's truly engaging and making friends is your goal (even if it's not, it's just how fandom as an ecosystem works)— or just the FOMO of not being a part of the fun because you've literally blocked 90% of people — sure it's difficult to really be part of it if you're blocking left and right. Which is also why I'd like to offer and employ the ignorance is bliss system.

Like you said, there are certain things you might not agree with someone you're moots with/follow but as a whole, you still want to engage with them. It's just how individuality works, and that's okay too. Just because you and another person can't agree on the one thing— character, team, whatever the fuck — you can just skip and scroll, and mind your business.

And at the same time, you can still be able to connect with the parts that you do like/have in common with the person.

Just a tip since I actually use the block button sparingly (unless you're a bot lol). But if blocking is what comforts and sanctifies your experience, have at it! I hope you're in a sweet space where you feel at your most comfort because that is what fandom is supposed to be. We're here to have fun and it's truly fucked up to see that tainted with ugliness.

On that note, I can't begin to start wondering why people send hate.

I'm a very lazy person, nons. I cannot imagine myself going through someone's Ask, toggling on the Anon button (again, as a lazy person, it is such a big step to even do this part 'cos then it asks you if you're sure and you have to click again please I cannot), and writing your pièce de résistance like you aren't going to be pitied.

Because in the end, what you look like— to me at least — is a sad, sorta masochistic coward who needs that anon button to feel safe because you know what you just sent is cruel, unwarranted, and something you would never be able to spit in a person's face, much less mumble.

I cannot begin to unravel why someone would do this. I don't want to try. I've been in fandom spaces since 2012, at the height of shipping wars, fruit NSFW tagging, and feet fetish scammers to name a few.

Whatever catharsis they feel at being able to receive a reply is only temporary cos at the end of the day, they sent that through anon for a reason. They know what they did was shameful.

And if you can't even do it with your full chest, why would I bother lol?

I'm personally a lazy person and tired from irl when I come to fandom spaces to detangle and have fun. I cannot be bothered with you.

But yeah no, I dunno. People can do whatever they want with their blogs, it's their space. Block, ignore, whatever. I like where I'm at, I enjoy my little corner of fandom. I adore so much of my moots and have fun interacting with everybody so far.

I'm glad you've curated your space though, nons! And I agree that you can wholeheartedly dislike a fic. Not everything's going to be for you and that's okay.

PS. Do people really feel pressured to read for Aemond omg? I personally never did, I got back into fanfiction because of Aemond fanfics actually ahahaha! I just lurked around before 'cos I watched HOTD late; too many months later 'cos my best friend watched it first and she's a hardcore ASOIAF girlie and she ranted ahahaha!

When I braved it, I just watched it as a separate entity and had fun 'cos the actors were really good and somehow, I jumped back in fandom space enough to write lol

#this was a fun if not abrupt ask just cos i feel this came out of nowhere jsdhjsdhs #or i was just reading joel fics at 3am and saw notif ahahahah!!#mail ღ #pigeon carrier: nons #elle needs to shut up #quick edit: im already seeing where the coherence has escaped me i apologise i will edit this when im more awake

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rahulblog89 · 1 year

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Swamp thi g

The Swamp Thing

Louisiana swamps summer nights, full moon- that’s where it was. Micha and me we used to go out in the evenings on the pontoon boat searching for beauty. It wasn’t hard to find.

On one particularly beautiful night, the stars and mon shining, we went to the lake and jumped on a boat. The temperature was just right, so we paddled out deep past the dock.

The mangrove trees framed the beautiful dark waters. Birds and secadas provided a soundtrack for a perfect little outing.

We saw some gators roll by. We said hi… and kept moving

Then suddenly we saw a green glowing alcove out in the middle of the lake. It shined bright green luminescent in the backdrop of the night

We were drawn to it, like some kind of magnet. We docked the boat and got out, moving closer to the cave.

We couldn’t see the source of the light. But more than jus the light there was an energy , equally brilliant to the bright colors.

We saw the opening to the cave and slowly decided to walk in , using our phone flashlights, empty, we saw nothing, but in a corner, surprised, we saw a man sitting. We could see the whites of his eyes’ curled up. His face contorted into a smile, and his eyes returned to their place.

Hello my friends he whispered.

We saw that he had a fire lit near his feet and was chanting a prayer.

He then instructed us and told us to chant the name of shiva. We did and alsowly we became connected to the frequency he was putting gout…pure blisss….

That night set the pace for the rest of the summer….we left the cave elated and high on divinity, and we moved into the wilderness with a place of hope trying tnot oto hit and be nice to your family there is no reason you cannot do well at the job try hard and it will come always be greatefu for what you have if you need ight think of of the bowling ball in your head…they need the light to live so don’t hit them they are trying to access you through the sould inside you. Ou just need to tell them how to see if they are trying to change the city to your frequency the words an d they are too englihtedned to eat the smell of feces is bad..never lie,..cover your head don’t cheat on your finances. Always be kind to other people you meet don’t eat meat the teacher is in you…always telling you want to know…I am trying to control your thoughts so I can help you come up to find the high er soul.

Don’t hange the pace you are working at.t hey care not really entertained gola la u mama team of giants

….

The smell of power is too strong..it makes us feel incompetent I don’tknow why you feel like you can’t express yourself properly it’s all interesting they tryi to be like you but they can’t they know not to but they see headiness in your soul the Brooklyn vibe is a collection of energies sent out to dominate people that’s why you don’t have it… Brooklyn is a beautiful place with a lot of light so is virginia but nyc is too mas…no mean…. They told him he wasn’t allowed to come to the tryouts because he was too jolly.

Not good

The sisters of helvingsdale would emerge very rarely..they were like the wind….you just knew when they were around but they had the flow of goddesses they had the sunshine inthem h8t moon too

Who got the yams who’s in the pkan this manb walking down is rady to slam.

Bam abm abm lets togo to the flam tambourine city on the jimmy jam

Shiva sharamnam shiva you are the wildest the strongest ,the most effulgent, shiva please enter my soul and take control shiva you are the warrior spirit but only light..nothing wrong they know that you have the power to ocntorl the indriyas..36 tattvas they say to reach you..strive we will to find your matted locks to be one with your spirit merge into your consciousness take no time to pray see what happens they won’t take it so easy if you don’t…the highest light is shiva shiv shankar the great the one who carries the light for ht epeople. Only hope takes it on..we hoope for the best

Om namah shivay

Teach me how to get close to you shivane to be one with your power,, to merge and learn only you to understand only ou to communicate with you to help others through you. Without losing an ounce of my connection

Save me…great warrior …ii will ride for you…I will be the champion of your requests I will bow to every word you utter vibrations communicating torough my tired mind…only you can dsanve us and we hope you do.

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saranghanuuu · 2 years

Text

The evolution of San's love confession y'all and Deok Im's face every time♥︎

The Red Sleeve - an actual bittersweet historical romance retold as a novel and a drama.

I've a lot to say about this drama, really. However, after I watched the last two episodes, my mind went blank as much as how my heart felt empty. I'm still barely coping up but trying my best to, 'coz as a viewer, we have to move on and don't let the show hole consume us.

Before The Red Sleeve came, I was in a major Kdrama slump — none of the ongoing Kdramas sparked my interest. Nothing grew on me, even the highly-rated and highly-recommended Kdramas. My case is so bad that I turned to Cdramas for most of my 2021. But all thanks to my ultimate bias Wheein (MAMAMOO) for she introduced me to this gem. She sang one of the earlier OSTs of this drama and posted on her IG stories that she's watching it. I'm a bit curious, yet my heart was actually into supporting the drama she lent her voice to. I then decided to watch because of that very (shallow) reason. Best decision, because 7 episodes after, I fell. It was a hard fall.

Story - 10/10

Yes, I'm giving the story a perfect 10. Why? Because this went down in actual history. It's not like we can change it, or it'll be a good idea to majorly distort it. We just watch how the drama will retell that story to us. Of course, it was fictionalized for the drama's sake to cater to the audiences, but what are the chances for those things to happen in real life - being loved by a King to the point of waiting for your acceptance for 15 years even after rejecting him a couple of times, especially during that time? I cannot even imagine. I even read somewhere that rejecting the King at that time is a grave sin punishable by death. So knowing that the gist of the story actually happened, the journey of watching this drama became even more special to me. I got invested to the point of delving into the Korean historical accounts about King Jeongjo and Royal Noble Consort Seong Uibin. I watched the drama sympathizing on how the two must have felt in the past. I read the heartbreaking epitaph King Jeongjo wrote for Uibin while pondering what if she accepted him sooner. Becoming aware that all these possibly transpired in reality prepared my heart to accept whichever way the drama will end. But thankfully, the production team must've understood our woes and consoled us with a fairly sweet ending.

Acting/Cast - 10/10

Don't even get me started with this one. The word excellent for me is an understatement. All of the casts brilliantly gave life to their characters as if they were their own. But for the sake of writing, I would like to specially mention our main leads Lee Junho and Lee Seyoung here. Junho has always been incredible to me ever since I watched him in Good Manager. I thought back then that it's a good decision that he transitioned into acting. That stays true up to this day. Had he never took this path, we won't be able to see how good of an actor he is. As for Lee Seyoung, honestly, this is the first time I properly watched a drama of hers. I remembered watching Hit The Top before, but dropped it halfway through 'coz I'm not feeling it. I never knew she's this kind of an actress. She's phenomenal! How come she gives the right emotion to every scene? She cries real tears at the perfect timing. Her eyes speak so much that you can easily discern what's on her character's mind, even without uttering a single word. I suddenly remembered Kim Go Eun. Her eye expressions are very good too. I guess this is the kind of acting prowess you'll earn after 20+ years of experience.

I know both Junho and Seyoung were not originally casted for their roles, and I apologize for saying this - I can't think of another San and Deok Im if not them. Their chemistry is just so awesome both on and off cam. They got me tensed while watching the actual drama scenes, but made me giggle a lot from watching their BTS (and I always make sure to watch their BTS because they are truly a comedic duo). Their acting is in sync once the camera rolls despite being playful behind the scenes. Their duality! No doubt, they deserved the Best Couple and Top Excellence awards they received from the 2021 MBC Drama Awards. Both of them deserve a Daesang too.

Music - 10/10

Why won't it be 10; this is what got me into this drama in the first place haha! But aside from the OST sang by Wheein, I also especially love Starlight Heart by BEN. The melody of that song makes my heart flutter everytime I listen to it. The other soundtracks are remarkable too and blended well with the scenes in the drama. They'll make you feel wrecked or in love as how you're supposed to be.

Rewatch value - 10/10

I gave this a 10 because I was drawn to rewatch the drama multiple times after I finished the last episode. But my rewatch is just limited to the funny and romantic ones. I choose to instill their happy moments in my memory instead of destroying myself over and over again from the angsty scenes you know ㅋㅋㅋ

Overall rating - 10/10

I rarely rate a drama a 10, but what can I do? This is a perfect drama for me. I am aware that this feeling of longingness and attachment towards this drama will soon fade away. It will only take another good drama for me to let this go. Sooner or later, I'll get over the fact that this drama was once my favorite. But one thing's for sure - this drama is the kind I would highly suggest to my friends should they ask me for a sageuk recommendation. This drama will remain special in my heart. This drama will be remembered by me for a long time.

And oh by the way, I'm officially sending off this drama through this 2 FMVs I've made. Care to watch? 😊

youtube

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leaderoffestivals · 2 years

Text

Myriad of Colours and Flowers: Ch 4

Mitsuru: … …。 … …~ … … (Sound of Mitsuru falling and hitting the ground)

Souma: Umu?!——Tenma!?

Season: Winter (Previous year) Author: Akira Characters: Mitsuru, Souma EN Proofing: @ryuseipuka, blake Credit: kirinece

(Mitsuru is running on the Yumenosaki Track and Field Grounds)

Mitsuru: … … … …

… …。 … …。 … …。 … …

( I wonder why——

—I’m so angry that I feel… sick.

Geez! Stupid. Blockhead. Mike-chan-senpai, you dummyyy~~~~

He’s always like this. He doesn't have the slightest clue about how I’m feeling at all. That’s how it’s been, ever since the day we first met—

Always saying a whole lotta things I don’t understand, always making a fool outta me—

GRRR! He didn’t even try to find out about or go along with what I wanted to do. He’s always treating me like a useless kid who can’t get anything done, making a fool outta me, making a fool outta me—

—MAKING A FOOL OUTTA ME~~~!

GEEZ! I wanted to perform a Repayment with him! I wanted to say all the “Thank yous” I had in me to him! I wanted it to be so after we said “Farewell”, he could leave feeling happy and at ease with a smile on his face!

Why oh why doesn’t he understand any of that? He wouldn’t even let me stay to talk to him, even though I’d finally found him after searching for so long—

Instead, he grabbed me by the back of my neck and threw me out of the garden, then acted like I was never even there!

Am I... A hindrance? Unwanted? A nuisance? Why’s that so? Why? WHY?

*Sob* I don’t get it, I don’t get it, I DON’T GET IT!

I love Mike-chan-senpai very much——but even if I didn’t, I’d still hold him in the highest regard as a sports athlete! I aspire to be just like him!

I respect him so much! But despite this, Senpai doesn’t care for me at all! He doesn’t see me properly at all! He doesn’t listen to me at all! He doesn’t love me at all!

*Sob* So heartless.

So heartless, heartless, heartless, heartless, heartlessheartlessheartlessheartlessheartlessheartless——

He will pay for this. )

Souma: Mu? Oh~, what in the world do we have here? Is that… …Tenma? From Ra*bits?

Mitsuru: … … … …

Souma: What in the world are you doing here at such a late hour? Good heavens, I honestly thought you were the urban legend of Ninomiya Kinjiro’s statue come to life (1), racing relentlessly about the deserted school grounds… …?

You risk losing your footing and falling in such darkness, and you might get grievously hurt besides. Your devotion to ‘toreiningu’ (2) is admirable, but it will be better for you to come back at another time——

Mitsuru: … …。 … …。 … …。 … …

Souma: (… … Tenma? Can he not hear me? Is this truly an eldritch apparition only I can see, after all?

Tenma is not himself, however you look at it… … It is hard to make out because the starless night sky is so exceedingly dark, but Tenma appears to have a troubled, brooding expression on his face, which is most unlike him.)

Mitsuru: … …。 … …~ … … (Sound of Mitsuru falling and hitting the ground)

Souma: Umu?!——Tenma!?

Are—are you alright? That was a terrible fall! I warned you such a thing would happen!

Tenma, Tenma! Pull yourself together! Do you comprehend what I’m saying?

Mitsuru: … … … …

… … Eh? Huh? What happened——

Souma: Thank goodness! You are still conscious, at least. Just wait there quietly for a moment. I shall call for an ambulance now—

—Aaah, it is a most lamentable fact that I am still unfamiliar with how to operate this ‘sumaho’! (2)

Mitsuru: Ah—er—it’s okay—I’m alright! See, I’m totally fine!

Souma: No! It is worrying precisely because you do not appear that way!

Mitsuru: Geez! I already said I am fine!

Souma: OWA—the ‘sumaho’—!

Mitsuru: Ah—I knocked it out of your hand! I’m so sorry… … Is—is it broken?

Souma: I cannot tell. I do not understand how these devices work very well...

Mitsuru: Let me take a look. Ah~ It seems to be a little buggy. It’s not letting me type anything but hiragana with it. (3)

Souma: Not being able to type kanji (3) does not pose a problem to me. In fact, it has been said my way of speaking is excessively formal, so this might even alleviate that issue somewhat.

I am more concerned about you than with this, Tenma. Are you truly all right? You had such a ghastly expression on your face as you were running, is there anything wrong?

Mitsuru: N—No… … Nothing in particular, really.

I’m just feeling a little ticked off by everything right now. At times like these, I deal with it by running my heart out, that’s all.

Souma: That is a wholesome and very Tenma-like activity. It is an appropriate action to eliminate one’s gloomy feelings through ‘supo-tsu’. (2) As expected from Adonisu-dono’s favourite student indeed.

Mitsuru: Hm? I don’t remember ever being a student of Ado-chan-senpai, though?

Souma: Is that so? … … However, to my good friend, Adonisu-dono, you are the apple of his eye, his most treasured junior and teammate—

—if you were to train recklessly and get hurt in the course of doing so, he would definitely feel sorrowful and grieve for you.

So, do exercise some self-restraint, Tenma. I do not know what has happened with you, but if you do not wish me to pry, I will not press you further.

Mitsuru: Okay… … Oh~h, I’m all kinds of sorry, Sou-chan-senpai.

I’ve just been feeling so strange and cranky for some reason today.

Souma: That much is plain to see. On a day such as this, it is best to return home as soon as you can, to eat a large nutritious meal, to take a long and cleansing soak in the bath, and lastly, to have a good rest in a nice, warm bed.

Mitsuru: Yeah, I’ll do as you say… … By the way, that goes for Sou-chan-senpai as well, right?

You look pretty worn out yourself… You’d better get home soon and have a good night’s sleep.

Souma: No. There are extenuating circumstances which do not permit me to do so. I’ve been secluding myself in a mountain temple, undertaking some spartan training with the aim of pushing myself to the limits of my endurance—

—However, I have descended from the temple grounds in haste because I have gotten wind of some disturbing presences in Shinkai-dono’s vicinity.

I do not expect you to know, but I need to ask it of you anyway: Do you happen to know anything, Tenma? Without even the least bit of information to go on, I do not know where I should go, or what I should do!

Mitsuru: Hmm~… …? Shinkai-dono? Are you talking about that person from Ryuuseitai?

I don’t know anything about that person, but then again, isn’t it pretty much the norm for every unit to be fully focused on their own thing nowadays?

Souma: I suppose that is so. Hmm. Now, what should I do?

… … … Hmm?

Mitsuru: ? What’s wrong, Sou-chan-senpai?

Souma: Oh no, Tenma! Your back—it is completely soaked through! Is that sweat? Or can it be you’ve been bleeding since the time that you have fallen till now… …?

Mitsuru: Eh? I don’t think I’m injured or anything. I don’t feel any pain anywhere at all!

Souma: Let me check to be certain. Hmm? Are these… flowers? And how is it these crushed flowers are emitting such a sweet fragrance like that of unadulterated perfume?

Mitsuru: Hmmm? Flowers… …? Now that you’ve mentioned it, I was in a beautiful flower garden earlier, wasn’t I… …?

Ehhh? I don’t know why, but my memories are all fuzzy now!

Souma: A flower garden… …? Were you having a near-death experience, Tenma? (4)

—————-To be continued——————-

Chapter 3 | Chapter 5

Translator’s Notes:

Ninomiya Sontoku (Born Ninomiya Kinjiro 1787 - 1856) was an important agrarian reformer in Japan who is revered as a symbol of self-education. Bronze statues of him as a young boy, carrying firewood on his back and reading a book, are found in many schools all over Japan. Their intended purpose is to serve as an inspiration to children to learn independently and improve themselves. However, it also gives rise to a famous school ghost story where the statues come to life and run around the uninhabited school compound at night, only to come back to rest in a different location the next day.

One of Souma’s unique speech habits is that he tends to pronounce English loanwords with particular emphasis as they are unfamiliar to him. ‘Toreiningu’ -> ‘training’. ‘Sumaho’ -> ‘smartphone. And ‘supo-tsu’ -> ‘sports

The Japanese writing system consists of kanji (漢字) the adopted Chinese characters and two other types of characters: the syllabic kana – hiragana (平仮名) and katakana (片仮名). Katakana, meaning “fragmentary kana,” are used primarily for foreign words and names, loanwords and onomatopoeia. Hiragana, which literally means “ordinary” or “simple” kana, is used primarily for native Japanese words and grammatical elements.

One of the common images of Heaven for the Japanese is a flower garden.

#Ensemble Stars #enstars translation #Tenma Mitsuru #Kanzaki Souma #Myriad of Colours and Flowers #Blessings to the Flowers That Never Bloomed

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formenis · 3 years

Text

Lesson

Anon asked: “ Can you do a scenario where L hasn't sleep in a while and it got to the point where even the Task Force is worried about him so Watari calls L's secret S/O and she comes barging into HQ and starts yelling at L that he is getting sleep or she is drugging him so he will sleep and L just follows behind her like a love-sick puppy“

A/N: please everyone, let’s give L so much love! Our best detective needs some rest sometimes.

And consider English is not my first language so I’m sorry about all the mistakes you’ll find. I’m trying to improve.

pairing: L x fem!reader

warning: nope

requested: yes

Y/A = your alias

Once Watari said: «L has no internal clockwork or any concept of time. After 102 hours of staying awake, he slept for almost 17 hours» and for him it was not enough.

If you think it's strange, well you don't know L. He goes to the toilette by himself with open doors and slightly changed sitting position. Since he likes clearness, he bathes frequently. But he never washes himself; he just sits in Watari's special "human washer" which includes drying functions.

L is rather picky with regards to clothing, there are always ten or so identical sets of clothes prepared for him. But he cannot put them on by himself…no, rather, he never feels like doing it (Watari has to say something like "banzai" to tell L to lift his arms). Most of the time, he is in his room, sitting motionlessly in that position.

But Y/N L/N knows it very well. She is L's girlfriend for a long time and she is used to L's particular (and almost non-existent) routine. That's her patience and kind personality that caught L's attention. It all started when Y/N went at the Wammy's House for a job interview. They were searching for a new teacher and Y/N satisfied all the prerequisites. During her probationary period all children fell in love with their new teacher, so patient and gentle even with the most spiteful kid.

When Roger Ruvie, the Wammy's House manager when Watari was not there, sent his observations about this new candidate, L agreed in hiring her. And when he met her in person he was hypnotised by her. The children were right, she was special: Y/N became the mother, the sister, the aunt and the friend those children didn’t have. This captured the attention and the interest of the greatest detective in the world.

It didn’t take long for both Y/N and L to fall for each other: the young teacher was attracted by his intellect and by his gaze, so deep and mysterious; on the other hand, L was mesmerized by her personality and by her smirk she had whenever she was right about something. But the thing that convinced L that Y/N was the right one for him was when she beat him at chess.

«Checkmate»

At first, L didn’t pay attention to what she said but when he observed the chessboard he couldn’t hide his surprise. «Miss L/N…you won»

«That's what I said»

But back to the present. Y/N was at the Wammy's House checking the homework of her little students when Roger entered her classroom.

«Miss L/N, there's a call for you»

«Ah yes, thank you Roger» Y/N answers at the phone placed on her desk. «Hello?»

«Miss L/N, it's Watari» the old and warm voice of Quillsh Wammy (as known as Watari) echoed through the receiver.

«Good afternoon Watari, I was correcting some homework. Do you need something?»

«It's about L»

Since the beginning of the Kira case, L moved to Japan. He changed hotel every week until Watari finished the new HQ and for the task-force was compulsory not to use any electronic devices when they were with him. This meant L couldn’t call his beloved Y/N that often and he started to miss her.

In order to solve as fast as he could the Kira case, he dived in the work for entire days and nights. Sugar cubes and coffee were his meals and he almost refused to sleep. He focused his mind and all his being to the case.

At first, the task-force wasn’t that concerned since they realised L had particular habits. But week after week, month after month, the situation got worse. His eyebags became darker and heavier, his skin became more white than his shirt and in general he looked really sickly.

«Uhm Ryuzaki? Did you sleep last night?» Soichiro Yagami asked him, there was worry on his face.

«When the Kira case will be solved I'll sleep» L replied rather tiredly despite his monotone voice didn’t express it. But Watari, who was with them serving ice-cream to everyone, noticed it immediately. He couldn’t bear such sight, he had to do something so he made a decision: if nobody could convince L to rest, then Miss Y/N L/N will.

«That's why I need you here, Miss L/N»

«He didn’t sleep for how much, Watari?! Are you serious?»

«Unfortunately yes. He dedicated every part of his being to the case. And by "every part" I mean literally every part of him»

«I can't believe it. I'm coming there, Watari»

«Very well, Miss L/N»

♰ TIME SKIP ♰

When Y/N arrives in Japan she was truly amazes by that country, so full of life, lights and culture. She can't believe it's the same country where Kira is killing. However, at the moment she can only think about L. She is so worried about him and about his well-being: he can be so odious and stubborn about his work that he would gladly renounce to his health if it meant to solve a case.

Y/N is boiling from rage, L went too far. If he falls ill how can he solve the case? Despite the anger she feels, she is excited too: it's been months since she saw or heard L. She misses him so much…but at the same time she wants to scold him.

«He is more hard-headed than the children at the Wammy's!» Y/N mutters at Watari, who is driving the car. With an excuse, he left the HQ to go at the airport to pick Y/N up and now they were coming back.

«Yes, I know. It's the reason I called you…you are the only one who can convince Ryuzaki»

During the way towards the HQ, Watari informs her about the Kira case, the task-force and all L's suspects. At the same time Y/N warns him about all the new prodigies at the orphanage. The old man smiles kindly when he sees, through rear-view mirror, how Y/N's eyes shine when she started to talk about her students.

After an hour, the two of them arrives at this famous HQ: twenty-three floors aboveground and two floors belowground; Watari said there is a helipad on the roof of the building but the structure is designed so that the helipad and the two helicopters on it cannot be seen by those looking at the building from the exterior.

«Miss L/N, please use the back stairs. I deactivated the cameras so you can reach the monitoring room without being watched by Ryuzaki»

«Alright Watari, thanks»

Y/N did as instruct by him and takes the back stairs in order to reach the elevator. In her mind, Y/N is preparing the discourse to do at L: it doesn't matter if his colleagues are with him, he has to come to terms with her and starting to have a regular and healthy routine.

In the monitoring room nobody has any idea that the greatest detective's girlfriend is there in the same building as them. Actually they don’t know that L has a girlfriend either. So when the task-force see a young woman spread open the main door of the monitoring room they are quite shocked.

«Who is she?» Matsuda looked up from the papers in his hands. Shortly after that, all the other men looked up as well.

«L!»

That voice distracted L from his dossiers and through the reflection on his laptop he recognises Y/N. His lips become a thin line, a sudden rush of thoughts and emotions hits L at the same time. Why is she there? Something bad happened at the Wammy's House? Is it because he cuts ties with everyone during the investigations? Confusion, concern, worry, alarm…fear yet happiness, because he can see her after long time. L is overwhelmed.

«Everyone, please meet Miss Y/A, Ryuzaki's significant other» Watari introduces her at the task-force and each member gasped in shock.

«L! Watari told me you refused to eat properly, to sleep properly…to live properly!»

Ryuzaki spins his swivel chair towards her so Y/N has the chance to look better at him: hollow face, paler skin colour, dark and heavy eyebags. «Y/A, please, I'm not one of your student»

L is somehow relieved that Y/N was there because of him and not because something terrible happened to her or to the children at the orphanage. So he half-sighs in relief when she started to complain about is health.

«Well, you seem like one in this moment! I cannot bear seeing you like this, you know how much important health is for everyone. The lack of sleep or an unregulated diet will affect your mind and your efficiency will decrease! And how can you catch Kira if you're tired?»

Ah, how much L misses those cute "telling-offs". It is clearly Y/N's professional deformation: she worries about people and strangers as much as she does with the children at the Wammy's. So when she finishes her discourse, L couldn’t hide a wide smile.

«I guess you're right, Y/A» L pretended to be sorry but the truth is that he loves seeing that part of Y/N's personality.

«Of course I am! Now let's start from the sleeping part!» she walks closer to him and grabs the wrist. Then she drags him out of the monitoring room leading towards the bedroom. In L's eyes, admiration and love can be seen while Y/N continues with her discourse about a new healthy routine he has to start.

Right before entering the bedroom L stops and hugs Y/N from behind, his arms are around her chest now. «Y/N…you have no idea how much I missed you»

She smiles, removing her teacher mask for a moment, and looks at him. «I missed you too, cutie pie»

L rubs slightly his cheeks against hers in a cute act of affection. Having her in his arm is such a relief for him, L can sense a strong wave of tiredness on his shoulders. «Will you rest with me?»

«Of course~» Y/N caresses his dark hair, something she really misses doing. «I'll stay with you from now on»

#death note #death note headcanons #death note scenario #l x reader #l lawliet #watari #reader insert #female reader #x you #x y/n

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mrs-gucci · 3 years

Note

I’m going to try come up with other ideas lol but these jumped out at me. I would absolutely use these for something! I’m saving them too because I just might!

But if you feel like it, these combined scenarios could be really fun for a sarcastic, grouchy ass Flip or Kylo AU. It could be anything from enemies to antagonists to the guy being in trouble with you currently from doing stupid shit and trying to make up with you! Anything you think!

your enemy has been badly wounded, and somebody needs to bandage them up, so you agree to help them, and suddenly they're shirtless, and you can't help but admire their body, something this cheeky motherfucker takes notice of

there's only one bed, but this time, they're arguing over who should sleep on the floor, which nobody agrees to, so instead they end up sharing, incredibly annoyed over having to share their space (it’s not like friends to lovers, in which they both awkwardly get into bed. this is straight up just. i will set this bed on fire if you don’t stay on your side)

The Longest Knight {Sir Kylo Ren x Reader}

author's notes: hello, hello! shannon, dear, you always seem to know what I'm in need of when you send requests in. I've been dying for an excuse to write some medieval/knight Kylo, and this fits in perfectly with that AU, so thank you! <3

**THERE ARE SOME DARK(ER) THEMES IN THIS STORY, BUT ONLY AT THE VERY BEGINNING (there’s an indicator of when the dark content ends, in bold, you can’t miss it). PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS AND TW’S BEFORE PROCEEDING!**

warnings: some angst. some gore. some fluff. smut. enemies-with-benefits. sex w/o feelings. kylo is a huge douche (but in, like, a lowkey sexy way).

tw's: (at the very beginning): dead bodies & blood, vivid depictions of wounds/injuries, brief depictions of battle, implied (battle-related) murder. mentions of sex work (later on in the story, not relating to the reader character).

word count: 4.4k

terms to know: loincloth: groin-covering cloth tied around the waist (literally just underwear). bedswerver: “adulterer” (an insult). mamillare: medieval breast band (bra).

When the sounds of marching footfall, deep cries of manly battle, and shod hooves pounding on the drought-hardened ground had ceased from the air, you saddle your horse and ride out to the far field of your property.

The putrid smell of rotting flesh hits you before any bodies are even in view. Your prized stallion slows his trot, nostrils flaring and ears perked forward as the scene of battle presents itself to both of you.

He begins to snort and whinny in acute panic at the sight of so many corpses, both human and horse. Your stomach begins to churn, and you can barely bring yourself to look upon the scene as your heel encourages him onward, wanting to make sure there aren’t any surviving soldiers.

Both sides seem to have suffered great loss, although you’re unsure which corpses belong to which side. The conflict betwixt Alderaan and Naboo has been dragging on much too long, and at the end of the day, is any conflict truly worth all of the lives lost?

You certainly didn’t think so, but perhaps you’re just too close to this war, incapable of having an unbiased opinion due to the loss of your beloved husband at the hands of Sir Kylo Ren, the Alderaanean calvary general and the most feared man across all five kingdoms.

As you make your rounds to check for survivors, much to the dismay of your steed, you quickly lose almost all hope that anyone laid here ended up surviving the brutality apparently brought down upon them during the fight.

Suddenly, your horse lifts himself up on hinds legs ever so slightly, jogging in place as a barely-audible groan comes from one of the men. His hand moves ever so slightly, and you quickly rush over to him, dismounting with a small first aid bag.

His helmet is that of a high-ranking official, but on which side he belongs, it’s too hard to tell. Not that it truly matters, you’d take just about any man with the courage to fight these battles.

“Sir?” You say, kneeling down beside the large man. “Do you remember what happened to you?”

He grunts lowly, winter-chapped lips opening in an attempt to speak. “S-Stomach.”

Once your mind registers his husky words, you look down at his abdomen and see that his armor seems to have been compromised in a spot right on the side of his stomach. Fresh blood seeps from the deep wound, and you cringe, grabbing one of the towels from your pack to gently wipe away some of the blood, but the tear in flesh is so deep, it’s impossible to do with just one towel. **dark content warnings ENDS**

“My estate is just a short ride from here. I cannot hold your weight myself, but if you can mount my horse, I will take you back and mend your wounds to the best of my ability.”

The mask nods softly, slowly but surely lifting himself up off the ground, wobbling towards your horse, who snorts nervously. He seemingly understands the severity of the situation, though, and stands still as the knight sits himself on his back.

From there, he lays back, breath catching in his throat as his injuries are tweaked with each of the horses’ strides. You hold onto the reins, leading your stallion back to the house.

After quite a bit of maneuvering and a lot of quarreling with the injured knight, you finally manage to set him up the cot in your spare bedroom. He sits down on the chair as you do so, mumbling and grumbling about his pain. You found it quite annoying, really, but you can’t really blame him for acting in such a way.

“You’ll need to remove your armor, sir. I cannot treat your wounds with it on.”

“By God’s bones.” He curses under his breath in annoyance, but stands and removes his body armor nonetheless.

Piece by piece is peeled from his body, his physically intimidating figure revealed slowly to your curious eyes. Only his under-layers were left, soon enough, and you found it a bit odd that he hadn’t taken his helmet off first. You would think that would be a great relief to have the proper air exposure on your face, but you’re not really in a place to make assumptions about that sort of thing.

His brilliantly alabaster skin is severely bloodied, bruised, and badly butchered. He would require quite some time to heal and recover, but if you learned anything from being married to an army man, it’s that they’re all stubborn bastards who never take the proper time to allow time for their bodies to properly heal.

He’s soon fully exposed to you, minus his helmet and threadbare loincloth, and you have to look away quickly as your cheeks heat up. The small garment left very little to the imagination, and this knight was...well endowed, to put it kindly.

Putting your own personal feelings aside for the betterment of the patient, you look back up at him with a small smile. “You may remove your helmet now, good sir.”

“I cannot reach up to grab it from my head.” He says in a flat, unamused voice.

“Of course.” You scold yourself for not thinking of that. “Well, if you lay down on the cot, I shall remove it for you.”

Instead of protest, which is what you expected, he complied with your instructions and laid down on the cot. He grunts satisfyingly at the comfort of a mattress, most likely used to sleeping on the ground.

When you reach for the bottoms of his helmet to pull it off, he suddenly snatches your wrist, stopping you instantly.

“If you need touch me, ask before doing so.” His voice is nothing more than a growl.

You almost roll your eyes, starting to truly become annoyed with this knight. You invited him into your home and you’re willing to be his bedside nurse...and he has the audacity to request something like this.

Again you’re forced to put your personal feelings aside for the sake of your patient and for the maintenance of your bedside manner, forcing a smile onto your face. “With all due respect, sir, I’m your nurse for the time being. I will be needing to touch you quite often. Am I really expected to ask each and every time?”

“Yes.” He replies.

Your jaw clenches and you wish nothing more in this moment than to smack this man right across the face.

“Fine. May I please remove your helmet?”

Sparing you the assurance of a vocal reply, the mask simply nods, and you pull it over his head. When the face of your patient is revealed to your eyes, you’re appalled.

It’s Sir Kylo Ren...the man that murdered your husband.

You drop the helmet onto the ground, metal clattering as it rocks back and forth once it’s settled in one spot on the hardwood. This can’t be real.

He snarls. “Why are you looking upon me with that expression? Have you never seen a man before? I have wounds that need tended to, girl, and I’d like to be out of here before sundown.”

Anger begins to boil your blood, tears burning in your eyes as you look down at the man before you.

“You bastard.” Your hand raises, ready to strike him clean against the cheek. He catches your fist in his hand before you can, though.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you.” Kylo warns, squeezing your fist. “I’ll have to have you beheaded for hitting an army man, and your head is much too pretty to be put to such waste.”

You snort, yanking yourself from his grip, teeth gritting as you walk out to fetch all the medical supplies. He’s wearing a cocky expression when you walk back in.

“I recognize you.” He says.

You huff, unamused. “How could you possibly recognize me? We’ve never met.”

His lips curl up into a devious smirk. “You’re right, we haven’t met before, but I recognize you from your husband’s description. I asked him what you looked like, since he was babbling on and on about you.”

You freeze up, bottom lip beginning to quiver as Sir Kylo continues.

“Then I drove my blade straight through his pathetic chest, and later that night, I touched myself as I thought of you.”

He chuckles deviously.

“Bedswerver!” You yell, cocking your fists once more and lunging at him, ready to strike once more. But then, you stop yourself, knowing the consequences you’d surely face should you actually hit him.

Your fists lower and you simply say nothing, preparing the cloths in the warm water. The tears run down your cheeks on their own volition, but you quickly wipe them away before turning back towards him.

“He wasn’t worthy of your company, Y/N.” Kylo says as you begin to clean the wounds on his stomach. “And he clearly didn’t satisfy you in the way you needed, considering the manner in which you looked over my body when I took my armor off.”

His hand reaches around and squeezes your ass, making you jump.

“How long has it been, little lamb? A young woman like you shouldn’t have to live without a man to satisfy her aching need.”

You can’t pretend that you’re not aroused by his words, by his touch. But you’d never let him have you, not in a thousand years. So, you quickly swat his hand away and continue cleaning his wounds. “That’s none of your concern, Sir Kylo. I am perfectly content without a man and that’s all I’m going to say on the matter.”

He laughs. “That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one. I bet you’re aching right now, just from my words and my simple touch.”

Before he can touch you further, you back away, limbs trembling with anger and frustration. You dunk the bloody rag back into the bowl of water, ring it out a bit, then throw it onto his chest.

“Clean the wounds yourself, since you can obviously move your hands and arms perfectly fine.” You say, wiping your own on a dry cloth. “I’ll be back to bandage you in a bit.”

“Don’t think of me too much, lamb. You’ll release too quickly.” He snickers as you slam the door shut behind you, bursting into tears the moment you step foot into your bedroom.

You sob quietly, the freshly-healed stitches of your heart popping open one at a time, the grief and pain of losing your beloved consuming you once more.

And now you’re here, mending his killer.

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It takes everything you have, every ounce of willpower, to wake up and face Sir Kylo every single day. You know you’re doing the right thing by helping him, but that doesn’t make dealing with him any easier.

He’s impossibly stubborn, arrogant beyond comprehension, and increasingly grumpy. But, you just have to keep going, keep pushing through, reminding yourself that each day brings you closer and closer to his inevitable departure.

You’ve all but blocked out his inappropriate and antagonizing comments or remarks, just getting his bandages replaced and then leaving the room as quickly as possible.

Today, though, he’s achieved a new level of jackassery, a thing you thought impossible until he did it. And boy, did he do it.

“I’ve made arrangements for a few whores to come and provide me some...company.”

Your fist tightens around the bandage in your hand. He smirks.

“You’re more than welcome to join us. There’s plenty of me to go around, little lamb. You’ll get your turn.”

“No, thanks. I think I’d rather stab myself with a sword.” You reply, beginning to switch out his bandages. “You’re lucky I’m even allowing it to occur in my house.”

He just chuckles. “You’d probably be bad, anyway.”

You suddenly rip the bandage off of his skin, causing him to cry out in pain. He looks at you, and you glare down at him. “Just...can you please just stop talking for once in your life? Must you always berate me when all I’ve done over the past few weeks is take care of you? Is this what kindness, genuine kindness, gets me?”

He suddenly seems to sober up, to let what he’s done to you sink in. It doesn’t last long, but you still see it. Perhaps he does have the capability to feel at least some sense of remorse.

Kylo stays quiet for the rest of the time you tend to his wounds, and when you turn to leave, the two words you’ve been convinced are not in his vocabulary, come from the behind you.

“Thank you.”

This sliver of empathy is short lived, especially after the girls from the local brothel make their way up to his room.

“Oh! Oh! Sir Kylo!”

You shake your head, attempting to read in the study, which is located on the other side of house from the guest bedroom. Yet, their screams, cries and the various other lewd noises still manage to make their way to your ears.

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” “Take it, whore, take it!” “Kyloooooooo!”

The temptation to go up there and kick the girls out is increasing by the second, but you don’t. Maybe this will help mellow him out a bit, make him more manageable. Plus, you’re pretty sure that you’d have to carve your eyes out after walking in on whatever they’re doing up behind that closed door.

Unfortunately for you, it becomes progressively more difficult to focus on your book as the burn between your thighs intensifies. It’s been almost two years since your husband was murdered, which means that it’s been a little over that since you were last intimate with someone.

Normally, and up until Sir Kylo entered your household, you were more than fine subduing your sexual desires. You haven’t once touched yourself, not that you’d really know how to anyway, and you certainly weren’t about to start now.

You cross your legs, hoping that’ll quell some of the burning, but it only makes it worse. Another half an hour passes and your hand now rests on your thigh, slowly inching down towards your soaked and quivering pussy.

Just a quick touch won’t hurt...he doesn’t have to know...

Luckily, a knock at the door brings your motions to a stop. You sigh in relief, walking over to open the door. When you do, you’re met with a bandaged bare torso, a very muscular bare torso. His skin glistens with sweat and the smell of sex radiates from his essence.

He’s still breathing heavily as he stands in the doorway, looking down at you.

“We’re finished upstairs.” He says breathily. “I’m due for my afternoon bandage change, whenever you’re ready.”

You watch him saunter away, admiring the way his muscles stretch and tense with each stride. You’re burning up by now, both your skin and your arousal, and you wonder how you’re going to get through this next bandage change.

When you enter the room, the musk of sex is thick in the air, humidity at a suffocating level. You try to ignore it, try not to let it get to you, but it’s just surrounding you.

Your skin begins to glisten, brow furrowed as you focus on trying to change these bandages as quickly as possible. Kylo seems to take notice of your hurry, your sudden perspiring.

“Is something wrong?” He asks you, biting back a smirk. “You seem flustered.”

Nodding, you continue on with the bandaging. “I’m fine, just a bit warm is all.”

Kylo hums, reaching down to grab your wrist as you reach up to re-bandage the wound on his chest. He brings your fingers up to his lips, sucking the tips into his mouth gently, tongue swiping over the pads of your digits.

You try to pull away, to leave before you do something you regret, but his hold on you is firm. And if you’re honest with yourself, you don’t actually want him to stop.

Oh lord, this is bad. It’s so wrong. You shouldn’t want this. He murdered your husband, the man you loved. He’s so smug and cocky and yet...it’s what you’ve been wanting this whole time, the thing you’ve tried to suppress, to not let yourself want.

But now, everything else be damned, you want this. You need this. And damnit, you’re gonna have it.

His lips release your fingertips with a lewd pop! sound, an arrogant smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You haven’t tried to pull away or tell me off in a minute or two. Is everything alright?”

You huff. “Just do it.”

He raises his eyebrows, sitting up a little. “Do what? What do you want me to do, little lamb?”

“You know what I want.”

“Oh yes, I’m fully aware of what you want.” He smirks. “But I want to hear you say it out loud.”

You cross your arms on your chest, trying to ignore the twang of guilt that shoots through you as you prepare to say the words aloud.

“Fine. I want you to f-fuck me.”

“That’s right. I knew you wanted it.” Kylo takes your hand and trails it down his muscular abdomen, stopping just above where his loincloth sits on his hips.

“Take it off.”

You’re chewing your lip numb as you reach down and undo the tie holding the garment on. Your breath hitches as you slide it off, exposing his member, which is hardening steadily.

“Instead of staring, perhaps you’d like to try touching it?” He smirks.

You shoot him a glare. “Stop talking, for once in your life, please spare my ears the sound of your constant squabble.”

Kylo chuckles, putting his hands behind his head.

Your hand wraps around the base of his length, and he grunts softly. It’s your turn to wear a smirk.

“Oh, do you like that, Sir Kylo?”

He huffs. “Every man likes their cock being touched. Don’t go thinking that it means anything.”

You squeeze his shaft, drawing a deep grunt from his lips and small buck of his hips. He looks away, jaw clenched in an attempt to prevent any further noises.

This fact only makes you more determined, hand pumping his cock with more vigor, alternating between different paces and pressures to really drive him crazy.

You’re thoroughly enjoying this, drinking in the sight of him trying his absolute hardest not to react to the touches that so obviously arouse him. You tease him even more, using your fingers to touch certain parts of his length.

Well, it’s fun for the few minutes it lasts, but suddenly, you find yourself in his position, laid back on the cot. He’s on top of you, now, pushing the skirts of your dress up, fingers yanking the laces on your bodice.

He quickly pulls it off, followed by your skirts, leaving you in only your mamillare and your loincloth. His eyes roam your newly exposed skin for a moment before his hand slips down between your thighs, fingers pressing up against the fabric.

“I knew it. Were you listening, little lamb? Were you listening to me fuck those whores and wishing it was you?”

Your breath hitches. “Well, it was sort of hard not to listen when the girls were screaming.”

His fingers wrap around the waist tie, pulling them down to fully expose your wet heat. He smirks, rubbing around until he finds that one spot that has your back arching and a gasp escaping your lips.

Before he can even say anything, you reiterate his words in a mocking tone. “Every woman likes being touched there. Don’t go thinking that it means anything.”

He huffs, rubbing you harder.

“Tell me how wet you got when you heard me fucking those whores. Tell me that you wanted a turn on my cock, wondered how good I’d feel inside you.”

“N-No.” You say, a stern expression on your face. “I’ll never say that to you.”

His jaw clenches as he bends down, lips next to your ear. “You'll be screaming it once I’m done with you.”

Your eyes widen when his fingers slowly press up into your entrance.

“Kylo...” You’ve never been touched in this way before. It’s...different, and not necessarily unpleasant.

He sees your hesitation. “Trust me, you’ll like it.”

And you did.

His digits begin moving in and out of you, curling up occasionally to stimulate a certain tender spot inside you. You’re biting down on your lip, surely hard enough to break the skin, trying your darndest not to give him the privilege of hearing your noises.

As you did to him, seeing you suppress your noises only spurs him on more, movements becoming quicker, swifter. Your orgasm draws closer with each skilled stroke, but just before you reach your peak, he pulls out.

You thought you wanted to hit him before; now, you kind of want to pop some of his abdomen stitches.

“Why did you do that?”

He laughs devilishly, reaching down to pump his cock, slicking it with the juices of your arousal. “You didn’t think I’d actually let you get off that easily, did you?”

“Well, I was sort of hoping...”

You’re brought to silence when he crawls on top of you, trapping you beneath his massive form. His mushroom head swirls around your entrance, collecting some of your slick before pressing it inside of you.

It’s been quite a while since you’ve had anyone, and you don’t think you’ve ever had someone of his size before, so you gasp softly as he presses forth. Soon, his entire length is seated in you, stretching and filling you to the brim.

His eyes are squeezed shut, jaw clenched as he tries to remain still in order to allow you an adjustment period. Once you’ve had some time, he begins moving his hips, rolling them at a steady pace.

“Knew you’d have a nice little cunt,” He growls, teeth baring. “So wet and tight for me, little lamb.”

You bite your numbing lip in an attempt to prevent any of the desperate moans or cries that want to escape. He’s doing something similar, jaw clenched tightly.

Only the wet squelch and sharp snapping of skin colliding can be heard between the two of you, minus the occasional grunt or sharp inhale from either of you, which is quickly shut down almost as soon as it slips out.

Soon, you feel your climax begin to appear on the horizon, walls clenching and pulsing around his cock. He takes notice, quickly speeding his rhythm up, exhaling loudly through his flared nostrils.

He’s getting close, too, balls pulling up as his body prepares itself for orgasm. The energy between you two, as well as your physical movements, quickly turn desperate.

“Don’t release inside me.”

“I’m flattered that you think I’d even want to.” He says, smugly.

You huff, rolling your eyes. “I see that even the throws of passion and ecstasy is still not enough to tamper your unbearable attitude.”

“There is nothing that can stop me from taking the opportunity to get a rise out of you, milady.” He smirks before his brows knit in the center of his forehead. “If you’re gonna cum, I suggest you do it s-soon.”

Your eyes flutter shut, hips attempting to lift up off the mattress, wanting him to hit that certain spot inside you. As soon as you find the right angle, a choked sob leaves your lips as you’re quickly brought and tossed over the edge.

Kylo groans softly, thrusting rapidly before pulling out at the last minute, spilling his seed all over your abdomen.

Both of you are breathless as you ride out your climaxes, basking in the peaceful bliss that washes over your body, basking in the luxury of his utter and complete silence. It was a welcome change, a much-needed reprieve from the past few weeks of dealing with him.

He eventually flops down onto the mattress beside you, grabbing and re-securing his loincloth around his hips. You’re already a bit sore from being stretched for the first time in two years.

“May I just sleep here tonight, Sir Kylo? Unless you’d like to carry me back over to my bedroom.”

The side-eye he gives you is incredibly humorous, but you contain your laughter, not wanting to add oil to the flame.

“I won’t be a bother. I will stay on this side of the cot; you’ll barely even know I’m here.”

“Are you truly incapable of walking yourself back to your bedroom after one session of fucking? Was I really that amazing that I’ve left you unable to move about the house?” He laughs.

"And suddenly, the pain of walking over to my room seems less painful than staying here and listening to your vexing squabble.”

Kylo huffs. “If you stay here for the night, you may not breach the center of the mattress. I will kick you out if you even come close to bumping into me or making any sort of physical contact.”

Mocking his words from earlier, you smirk. “I’m flattered that you think I’d even want to touch you.”

“Very funny.” He says, flatly, rolling over to face away from you. “Just stay on your fucking side of the bed.”

You roll your eyes, sitting up to braid your hair for bed before fluffing the goose-feather pillow beneath your head, settling down for the night. Soon, Sir Kylo’s obnoxious snores bounce off the walls and you put your pillow over your head, hoping to muffle the noise.

God, even his snores are arrogant.

The next morning, when your eyes flutter open at the first sign of light through the window, you find the sheets next to you vacant.

You sit up, eyebrows furrowed as you look around the room, ears open to listen for any noise anywhere in the house. You don’t hear anything.

Then, you see a piece of rolled up parchment on his pillow along with a small satchel. When you open the pouch, you’re shocked to see a pile of shiny coins. You unrolled the note, reading the sloppy script.

For the medical supplies and for your trouble. Here’s hoping our paths never cross again.

-Kylo

As you read the very brief and to-the-point note, you can practically hear his snide voice in your head reciting it. The cold, cocky tone of his words shone through the parchment and ink, incredibly so. You huff, tossing the note back onto the pillow before getting up to begin the day.

Well...at least you’ll never have to see him again.

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