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#i mean i do think there's also room to argue that there's no real reason to think that logan ISN'T ~rory's luke~ but i like this better
skamenglishsubs · 3 days
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Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 3, Episode 6
Out here in the real world it's been a week since the cliffhanger ending of episode 5 where Simon broke up with Wilhelm, but in-universe it's just the next day, and Wilhelm is being comforted by Felice.
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Subtext: This entire episode is incredibly meta, there are so many times characters say things that reference earlier seasons or episodes, or the entire series as a whole. This is the first time, and Felice is saying what we're all thinking. IS IT REALLY OVER?!? 😱
Blink and you miss it: Felice gives Wilhelm her sunglasses and dries his tears so he can hide the fact that he's been crying. Also, look at that gorgeous Swedish summer. It is so pretty.
Culture: The third-years are painting the banners that go on the trucks on graduation day.
Culture: They're also signing each others' student hats, which is a common tradition. You can just sign your name or write something funny or do whatever.
Culture: This car is what we in Sweden call a sossecontainer. It's an old 90's Volvo, it's square, it's ugly, and it was pretty cheap and reliable, so it was very common and popular among working class and the lower middle classes. It was never a high-status car, so it perfectly illustrates the Eriksson family.
Subtext: Oh look, another throwback to season 1 when Sara argued with Simon about their dad, and said that he should stop giving people second chances.
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Culture: Oh look, another poem by Karin Boye. This time it's Eternity, a poem about cherishing your time with your loved one, and the text is about how good times feel like an endless summer, which is what it certainly looks like for the kids and their teacher in the lush landscape. But just like in the poem, their endless summer is about to end.
Culture: This is pretty much exactly the reason used when real-world Lundsberg was temporarily closed.
Culture: And Wilhelm isn't wrong, the shitty traditions are in the walls of the place, it's always been like that, and it's always been upheld by everyone involved with the school, parents, teachers, staff, and students.
Subtext: Since this is the last episode, let's prepare the viewers to say good bye to the show, and let's do it with a little montage of students crying and taking their stuff down and emptying their rooms.
Culture: This is a 100% factually true statement, Göteborg is the worst city in the world. Source: I'm a native Stockholmer, and you just have to trust me on this, ok? Look, it's just common sense, alright? Don't listen to people from Göteborg, they're just jealous they're not living in the glorious capital. Also, they talk funny. And they have no sense of humour! And everyone is named Glenn or something.
Culture: I don't think they're referencing an actual school here, and the current Norwegian royal children went to school in Norway, not Switzerland. But the current Danish crown prince went to some boarding school in Switzerland for a while, but then he went to the Danish elite boarding school Herlufsholm. However, it was rocked by a bullying scandal in 2022, so they had to pull him out of that one and deny all knowledge of the events. Feels familiar?
Culture: Solliden is the private summer palace of the real-world Swedish royal family located on Öland, an island off the south-east coast of Sweden. The show has consistently stayed away from every likeness with the real world, but I guess they couldn't be arsed making up a fictional summer palace for the YR royal family so they went with something familiar.
Subtext: Farima is talking about the problems of finding a new school for Wilhelm from an academic perspective, but he's just thinking about how this means he won't be close to Simon any longer.
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Culture: Vincent and the boys are pouring one out for Hillerska. It's a way to toast a dead friend, or in this case, a place.
Blink and you miss it: August places a king chess piece on the table before telling his friends that he's Wilhelm's reserve and might be king someday.
Subtext: And he's still so blinded by the glamour of it, despite everything. Thankfully, his friends can bring him down a couple of pegs.
Blink and you miss it: While Wilhelm is returning Kris, the book from last season, the second book in the pile is a book by Kjell Westö, Den Svavelgula Himlen - Yellow Sulphur Sky. It's about a working class kid in Finland becoming friends with his upper-class neighbour family, and his struggle maintaining a relationship with the girl of the family because of their class differences. Slightly on the nose there, show.
Meta: Henry interrupting our boys at the worst possible time is just a running joke at this point. How many times has it happened now? Four times? Five? Read the fucking room, Henry!
Subtext: Last chance to have a party together, but also last chance to see Simon, "maybe ever". Oh no, we have to start preparing for a sad ending!
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Culture: Red solo cups are not a thing anywhere outside the US really, but you can buy them as a gag gift in Sweden, because to us they're just a weird movie prop we've seen American movies. Every other party scene in the show has featured regular plastic cups.
Culture: Drinking with the teachers?!? Yeah, sure, why not, everyone is an adult.
Subtext: Emo outfit? ✅ Sitting on the floor? ✅ Full of self-pity? ✅ Exaggerating the catastrophic state of his world in the way only a 17yo disaster boy can do? ✅
Meta: Another throwback to how Wilhelm was referred to as the party prince back in season 1.
Blink and you miss it: Felice hides the wine bottle behind her back before Malin comes in. She knows, Felice. Malin knows everything.
Meta: Another throwback to when Wilhelm was eating the dirt at the very same football field that disaster emo boy Simon is now sitting at together with his friends, who are trying to convince him to go to the final party.
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Subtext: This time, August isn't just sorry that he got caught, he is genuinely sorry for everything he did to Wilhelm. He in turn forgives August, and we're all getting closure for this plot point.
Meta: Hey, hey, hey guys, do you remember that scene in season 1 episode 1 when Sara helped hold Felice's hair while she was throwing up? We're doing a throwback here!
Meta: Hey, hey, hey guys, do you remember that scene in season 1 episode 3 when Felice told Sara that maybe you don't have to speak the truth all the time? Well, Sara still doesn't understand why you would lie, but this time she's right, Felice was right to tell the truth.
Blink and you miss it: Stella and Fredrika are making out at the party, Felice saw it, and is making a very funny face. This is also why Stella rudely rejects Rosh, because of course she's gonna choose Fredrika, Rosh was just a distraction to make her jealous.
Subtext: Vincent is talking about Nils, who just came out, but August just saw Sara, and that's the whoever he wants.
Subtext: But despite saying that he doesn't care about anyone else seeing them, he still ducked behind a stack of pallets for this conversation.
Meta: This is a brutal Fleabag reference.
Cinematography: This scene is overwhelmingly lit in that sickly greenish fluorescent hue, but there's golden light coming from somewhere, so Sara and August share one final kiss in that golden light. But there's not enough of it to go around, not enough for their love to last, so August is left standing there alone, and all the golden light is gone.
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Cinematography: Wilhelm and Simon left the party sometime after midnight, this is supposed to be a very early morning summer sunrise, and our boys are just gonna be bathed in the golden light throughout the entire scene. Gods, it is pretty.
Meta: Hey, hey, remember that scene in season 1 when Simon was singing that song, and Wilhelm instantly fell for him?
Meta: Hey guys, remember that scene in season 1 when they were discussing welfare politics in class and Simon threw shade on Wilhelm? This is a throwback to that.
Cinematography: Just fucking look at this shit. What a nice view. The nature and the sunrise is pretty, too! Going naked into the water? Yeah, that's a rebirth metaphor as well. Lisa said so!
Subtext: This entire scene is basically Wilhelm trying one last time to get Simon back. They said they weren't gonna, but he's trying anyway. They're talking about that politics class where Wilhelm couldn't speak up because he was "not allowed". So he's still bound by his royal duties, which is why Simon broke up with him last episode.
Subtext: And since Wilhelm is still stuck, he's left on dry land, while Simon swims away from him, free. Guys, I'm thinking we're actually gonna get a sad ending! This does not look good! 😭
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Blink and you miss it: Stella and Fredrika are sleeping in the same bed and making out the morning after, and millions of #Stedrika shippers are rejoicing! Yay, fanservice!
Blink and you miss it: Walter is helping Henry up after he passed out in the grass outside after the party, and millions of #Walty shippers are rejoicing! Yay, fanservice!
Subtext: The last photo Wilhelm takes down from his wall is the one with him and Simon, because that's the most important memory of this place.
Blink and you miss it: Wilhelm shuts off his red lightstrip in his room. Those lights have typically been a symbol of his love for Simon, but he's turning it off. Sad ending confirmed.
Meta: Listen, it's a lovely little song that Simon wrote for Wilhelm, but it's 100% fanservice, it's referencing events in the show that Simon actually didn't witness, and it's even referencing the soundtrack to the show itself! I mean, come on! And we're getting yet another sad boy Wilhelm montage of him moping around Hillerska with his earbuds.
Subtext: Remember how the frog snowglobe was a gift from Erik, who in turn got it from their grandpa, the king? It's so obviously a symbol of the monarchy, but Wilhelm is dumping it in the trash. Are we... Are we not getting a sad ending?
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Cinematography: The shot of the flag being raised is cut off at half mast, which is a pretty universal symbol for mourning. Oh ok, we're back on track for a sad ending.
Subtext: This is the first time this season that Simon speaks Spanish with his mom, and the first time in the entire series that Sara does, which shows that they're fully themselves again, they've pulled themselves out of the Hillerska world.
Culture: The graduating students are having a champagne breakfast before the graduation ceremony, that's also very common in Sweden.
Subtext: Felice and the rest of the choir decided to have a little rebellion and not sing the boring old Hillerska song, and instead the new improved one that Simon made last season. No-one told him about the switch though, which is why he's so surprised.
Culture: After the ceremony, the graduating students will run out of the school to find their parents and family and friends, who are waiting for them, usually with a big sign with the most embarrassing baby picture they could find of them.
Blink and you miss it: August's mom and stepdad have also made a huge sign with an embarrassing picture of August Malte as a kid. Adorable.
Lost in translation: The queen is saying "lilla gubben", which literally means "little old man", a very common term of endearment in Swedish families. The show has been pretty consistent in that Wilhelm's family are all using normal words, just like any other family would. So it's pretty funny that despite everyone else using titles and styles all the time, to Wilhelm, his parents are simply "mamma" and "pappa", as if he was a regular kid.
Subtext: As a graduating student you get little gifts from your family, flowers, champagne, stuffed animals, all with a blue-and-yellow ribbon so you can hang them around your neck. August is family, so the Queen gives him one as well. Of a frog with a crown. Which is a symbol of the monarchy in the show. Wilhelm threw his frog in the trash, August is getting a frog from the Queen. I think there might be symbolism here! I think we're setting up August to become the next king! Do we dare hope for a happy ending?
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Cinematography: Just fucking look at this shit. The composition, the contrast, the height difference, the distance between them. It's so pretty. And they're talking about how good it was while it lasted, just like how a TV show with a sad ending can still be an amazing experience. Hint hint.
Subtext: We're saying our goodbyes, Wilhelm and Simon are saying goodbye to each other, Wilhelm wishes Simon a nice summer, just like how Simon wished Wilhelm a good Christmas back in season 1, and just like back then, they both understand that they love each other, but can't be together.
Cinematography: And then Simon exits the scene, again, leaving Wilhelm standing there alone, again, having seemingly chosen his family and royal duty.
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Culture: It's common to either rent a truck as a large group of students, or to be driven in a flashy car alone or with a friend. The two girls in the centre are sitting in a very nice Aston Martin, while a bunch of their classmates are on a truck. I can't make out the full text on the banner, but I think it says something like "Lock up your sons because tonight we become like animals".
Culture: Svensson is a very common Swedish last name, so to "be a Svensson" basically means that you're super average and mediocre, you're like everyone else. Whereas these elite kids are used to having everyone else bow and scrape for them, so that message is on brand.
Cinematography: We're in the car, it looks like the ending of season 1, and we're doing a close-up of Wilhelm's face. We're ready for the fourth-wall-break of him staring sadly into the camera, having been once again broken down by the system and not getting the boy. We've said goodbye to everyone, roll the credits, start your crying...
Cinematography: ...except the show isn't ending here. We're having an honest conversation between Wilhelm and his parents for the first time. Because every other time he's said that he doesn't want to be crown prince of the next king, he's been angry or upset, he's been threatening, and definitely impulsive. But he's never wanted any of it.
Cinematography: His parents let him go, they open the door to their van, Wilhelm exits, and the show turns up the volume of the soundtrack. "Energetic music" my ass, it's the Harmony theme! It's the main theme of the entire show playing as Wilhelm runs away.
Subtext: Oh, yeah, August sees him run away, and understands that he's next in line now. Sorry buddy, sucks to be you, but never mind that now. RUN, WILHELM, RUN!!! GET YOUR MAN!
Cinematography: The shows turns into the most perfect rom-com, with Wilhelm chasing down Simon's car through the incredibly lush and green Swedish summer. He catches up to them, tells Simon that he ditched the crown for his own sake, and asks if it's really over between them.
VAD FAN TROR DU?
As if the soundtrack wasn't triumphant enough, it now starts playing As Long As you Are Here as they throw themselves in each other's arms. Happy ending! They're crying, I'm crying, we're all crying! 😭
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Cinematography: A montage? With all the best scenes between our boys from the entire show? With the text of the soundtrack perfectly matching the montage? I should be outraged at how cheesy this is, but it is perfect. Perfect. I love it. I swear, this fucking show.
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Subtext: Finally we are at the true ending of the show. Wilhelm has managed to escape Hillerska, him and Simon and Sara and Felice have all escaped the hierarchies, the expectations, the duties, and the toxic environment of the school. He arrived in a Ferrari, and is now running away with his boyfriend and friends in a crappy Volvo station-wagon. The stiff suit jackets are gone, they're all in white, his hair is ruffled in the wind, and for the last time ever Wilhelm looks into the camera. And he smiles.
He is finally free.
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felixcatton · 9 months
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lorelai gilmore and logan huntzberger are the same character in different fonts and once you realize that, you also realize that logan is indeed not the luke to rory's lorelai, but instead, logan is the lorelai to rory's luke. in this essay i will
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constantmourning · 8 months
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Run Away
[Buggy x AFAB!Reader]
Summary: You and Buggy get close while he's on the Going Merry.
Word count: 0.9k
Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Buggy is just a head whilst giving head. Oral (f! receiving), Insecure!Reader, inappropriate use of devil fruit abilities, very too much self indulgent, not beta read.
A/N: im posting this while not sober and it's very self indulgent. Me and Buggy if I was on the going merry fr fr!! This was just something I wrote real quick while I tried to work on requests... I hope you enjoy it sdfbsdf (ALSO!! Reader may be written as AFAB, but as a trans, plus size person I wrote them with that in mind :) but like feel free to imagine whatever you want!)
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For some reason, you were left to watch Buggy. Why they trusted you to watch him was honestly beyond you. Unfortunately for Luffy, you had made a new ally. Fortunately for you, your new ally was very generous. Even if you were sure it was only because he wanted off the ship.
“Buggy,” Your voice was low as you lied on your bed. Buggy’s head was in your hands, resting on your stomach. “I’ve never…” You trailed off. “Um, I don’t have much experience with this.”
“Holding a head? Most people don’t.”
“No,” Your brows furrowed, “I mean, I haven’t ever done that either. But, the people I’ve been with before… I don’t have good experiences with them and-”
“Them going down on you?” He asked. You nodded at his question. “I can change that.”
Your hands were at Buggy’s neck. Your fingers began to absentmindedly play with the hair coming out from under his bandana. Buggy’s eyes met yours and his brows furrowed. You stopped playing with his hair and apologized.
“No, you can do that again.” Buggy demanded. You felt yourself relax as you began to play with his hair again, twirling it between your fingers. “If you don’t wanna do that, we can kiss again. But the earlier offer still stands.”
You nodded, “Okay… okay.” You placed Buggy beside you and stood up. You grabbed the waistband of your shorts and quickly pulled them down. Buggy watched wide eyed as you pulled your panties and kicked them across the room. “What?” You almost covered yourself.
“I didn’t think I’d get this far…” Buggy admitted. “Did you want to leave your shirt on?”
“Yes.” You nodded, pulling at the hem of it. “I’m not too comfortable taking it off.” Buggy’s head bobbed, somewhat, and you lied back on the bed. You looked over at him and he waited for you to pick him up. “Are you sure this is okay?” You whispered, grabbing him and holding him up towards you.
Buggy hummed in response, letting you know it was okay. You placed him between your legs and pulled up your shirt slightly, giving him full access to you. You looked up at the ceiling and waited for something to happen. When Buggy did not do as he said he would, you looked down at him.
“Play with my hair again.”
You groaned. You placed your hands around him, your finger tangling with his hair once more. You gently played with it and pulled Buggy closer to you. Your legs opened a little wider and you felt Buggy begin to lap at you. Your eyes widened immediately. Your hips rolled forward and Buggy smiled against you. He was smug.
You let out a soft moan as he licked a stripe up your pussy. His tongue hit your clit and circled it. Electricity jolted through you. You gently pulled at his hair and your back arched, before pressing back into the bed. You were unsure what to do.
“What if-” You groaned, trying to keep quiet, “What if you need air?”
You pulled Buggy away from you, ever so slightly, “I’ll be fine, put me back.”
You did not argue. You pressed Buggy back between your thighs and tensed as his nose pressed to your clit. Your eyes screwed shut and your heaved. Trying to be quiet was about to get hard. And Buggy had no remorse.
You moaned out for him, your voice cracking as you tried to keep it down. “Fuck!” You shook as Buggy continued. “Just like that, please-” You were so close. You were begging for him to let you cum. “Never felt so good…” You mumbled, words barely coherent.
Buggy smiled and groaned into you as you pulled his hair. Your hips rolled into his mouth and his nose hit your clit again, your jaw went slack. Buggy’s eyes watched as you began to unravel just from his tongue. He watched as you begged and pleaded, saying you needed him. Needed him to let you cum. He wasn’t going to deny you of that, you were being too good.
One of your hands left Buggy’s neck and slapped hard against your mouth. A muffled scream bounced off the thin walls and your hips jerked up into Buggy’s face. You tensed, everything was so tense. Your eyes were shut tight and suddenly you couldn’t hold onto Buggy anymore. You were reeling and Buggy watched you struggle to regain self control.
“Fuck-” You finally formed a word. “Fuck!” You hissed out, “I don’t- Holy shit.”
“It’s okay,” Buggy was smug, still between your legs. “Take your time.”
“Buggy…” You shook your head and picked him up, placing him on your stomach again. “I think I may just have to run away with you.”
“What?”
Your eyes widened and blinked at him, “Oh… I mean… I totally enjoyed that a normal amount.”
Buggy’s eyes were wide too, “No, no, say that again. You may have to do what? I need to hear that again.”
You let out a soft laugh, "Buggy, that was so great I'm prepared to run away with you!"
You sat there for a moment. You were thankful to have been left alone with Buggy, but you were filled with an unknown emotion when you thought about leaving the straw hats for Buggy. A feeling you did not want to think too hard on.
"Remind me," you finally spoke, "I owe you once you have your body back."
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lxclerc · 9 months
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𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐜𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐟 | 𝐚𝐥𝟏𝟐
summary… arthur is dating someone and his fans don’t like it request… yes but it’s for the og arthur girlie faceclaim… xowie jones pairing… arthur leclerc x reader
note… @coffeehurricanes have been begging me to make something for arthur since forever and i finally caved
𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
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yourusername
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liked by arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl and others
yourusername my “that’s her” pictures but it’s the pics my bf showed his mum
view all comments…
user1 girlie this isn’t something to be proud of
user2 she’s so cool and different and quirky and not like other girls !!!!!!!!!! do you want a cookie or sumthing?
lorenzotl can confirm! 😂
⤷ yourusername you loved me the moment you saw me, admit it
⤷ lorenzotl i admit it!
charles_leclerc maman nearly had a heart attack!!
⤷ yourusername then i became her fav 🤭
⤷ user7 pascale prolly can’t stand this bitch
user3 nah bc what the hell does she have on the leclerc brothers bc no way they genuinely like her dating arthur
arthur_leclerc and i wouldn’t have it any other way ❤️
⤷ yourusername idiot
⤷ arthur_leclerc *your* idiot
⤷ user4 arthur was being sweet and this bitch just insults him for no reason
⤷ user5 arthur blink twice if you’re being held captive
user6 so many jealous and mad bitches in this comment section. not so gentle reminder for yall that he’ll never date you in any universe lol ♡ liked by arthur_leclerc, charles_leclerc and 203 others
arthur_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, pascale_leclerc and others
arthur_leclerc my beautiful, beautiful girl ❤️
view all comments…
user1 is the beautiful beautiful girl in the room with us?
user2 arthur wear red next weekend if she’s holding a gun to your head
user3 i could be a better girlfriend than her
yourusername i’ll always save my last chicken nuggy for you, mi amore
⤷ arthur_leclerc you must really love me 😌
⤷ yourusername don’t push it
⤷ user4 she just has to ruin every sweet moment
charles_leclerc really mate?
⤷ yourusername if you’re jealous, close your eyes
⤷ user8 girl what does charles have to be jealous about
user5 why do we even hate her? like has she done anything worth hating her for? or is it just bc she looks a little different than what’s considered as conventional and happened to be dating your white boy of the month?
⤷ user6 i think she’s really a bad influence on arthur and she publicly argues with a lot of people on twitter
⤷ user5 doesn’t she only argue with people who say shit abt arthur? i mean why isn’t she not allowed to defend her bf? also where’s your proof abt her being a bad influence on arthur
⤷ user7 bitches real quiet cause they’ve got nothing to use
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arthur_leclerc
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liked by charles_leclerc, lorenzotl, and others
arthur_leclerc i’ve let this go on long enough and now she’s gotten hurt. i have no words to express how disappointed i am of everyone who has ever said anything against y/n for no reason other than she is with me. she has done nothing to deserve the bullying she gets and yet she does nothing to any of you.
any hate i see about her will be automatically blocked. i would rather have no fans at all than have fans who can’t respect the woman i intend to spend my life with.
and if anyone do anything to her physically, i will retaliate worse than i did today. this is a warning.
and to @yourusername i’ve failed you, baby. i sat back and watch everyone bully you telling you to just ignore it all and you didn’t deserve that. i will spend the rest of my life making up to you.
view all comments…
charles_leclerc i am so proud of you for taking a stand, brother. y/n does not deserve any of this
lorenzotl fully behind the two of you 🤍
user1 arthur has had enough on all of your bullshits and it’s time yall knew it
user2 he let yall know he’s not afraid to throw hands
user3 where yall loud mouthed ass bitches now????
yourusername i love you more than words
⤷ arthur_leclerc i will love you better now, baby
user4 it’s always seemed so fucking stupid how much hates she gets for literally no reason
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genshin-scenarios · 2 months
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I feel your heart— beat beat beat
Summary: in which they FALL fall for you 💘 or just cute moments together!
Characters: Venti, Wanderer, Xiao, Diluc (mentions of alcohol/drinking)
Requests are open, and my Adopt a Wanderer fanbook is now available on my kofi for anyone that's missed it!
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In a moment where the city of Mondstadt is abuzz with activity and Venti’s on the high of a performance well-done, he turns around to address the crowd in a big, sweeping motion — only for his eyes to widen when he sees you in the distance, taken aback by the feeling of his own heart skipping.
You’ve been so busy as of late, after all! It’s only reasonable for him to be surprised to see you, to the point where his easy smile slips off his face, and the concern and worry that comes with affection squeezes his chest — for as much as he adores you, Venti also worries that you might disappear as quickly as the wind.
But! He is nothing if not a seasoned performer by reflex, recovering in a millisecond. The hand clutched to his chest quickly relaxes to perch atop his lyre, and Venti calls you over with his usual charming lilt.
“You’re back! And here I was starting to worry you’re avoiding me on purpose!” 
As casually playful his words are, you stand, stunned, at how Venti manages to stand so close yet linger just out of reach at the same time. He flits around you, braids tickling your ear (“Your hair’s gotten longer!”) and fingers grazing yours in an almost-handshake and almost-pulling you into a hug.
While Venti might argue that you’re the one driving him crazy, you beg to differ with the way his actions make you dizzy and miss him all at the same time.
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When you’ve both fallen into an odd domain that recreates past memories, Wanderer finds himself in his Kabukimono garb once again. But before he’s able to say anything to you, he freezes that the way you regard his ‘past’ form; loses the strength to put any words past his tongue when you kneel down to his height in a room fluttering with sakura blossoms—a prison disguised as a display case—with sceneries flowing against the walls in an illusion of the real world.
Consciously, he is still Wanderer - yet every brave and indignant part of himself shrinks into the shell of his body when your hand rests on his cheek, smiling so kindly that he thinks his connectors might simply decide to collapse. He plays the part of Kabukimono and asks who you are. 
You accept that statement as a confirmation you were speaking to his past self, and even months into the future Wanderer never finds out if you knew it was the usual him all along. 
But maybe ignorance is bliss for now, if it means the way you comforted and reassured a shard of his broken past that things will be okay was real. 
“You’ll end up finding a place to belong, and you’ll become strong like you always wanted. 
And… as long as you don’t tire of me, you’ll be loved as well. To the moon and back, no matter how many times the world turns upside-down.”
He’d blinked back at you glassily, mustering every emotion from spilling out until a tear curved down his cheek. You both wake up after his promise, hearts heavy.
“...I’ll find you every time, even if the world was reset and I lose my own name.” 
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After the battle with Beisht (Avenger of the Vortex), the last thing you expected was for Xiao to appear immediately before you, engulfing you in a hug that’s tighter than usual: I was worried. How could you do that without calling for help? Are you hurt? Are you okay?
“...You’re not hurt.” Xiao finally says. Words have power. You confirm that you’re unharmed, and his grip on you loosens. Hug still engaged, he sighs with his forehead pressed into your shoulder. “You’re an idiot.”
“I’m sorry for worrying you.” Annoyed glance. Unconvinced golden eyes. “I… promise not to get into any more trouble for at least three months.”
“You better hold true to that oath.” Xiao finally lets go, but you continue walking together with hands brushing on occasion. “Have you eaten? Or do you need to rest?”
“I can cook dinner if you want.”
“...Does it always seem like I ask you to cook for me?”
“I comply because it’s a compliment from the Conquerer of Demons.” You give him a teasing smile. “It’s a small offering in comparison to the protection of Liyue, and I have to make sure I feel at ease enough to get my beauty sleep! And—”
“Enough. I’ll cook this time.”
“You didn’t let me finish! Getting to see a handsome adeptus also brings me nice dreams. So you just have to stand there to keep me company.”
“You dare reduce me to a house decoration?” Xiao’s avoiding your gaze now, turning away so you can’t croon at the blush on his cheeks. “We’ll cook together. Fighting Beisht has made you spew nonsense.”
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Diluc’s not very fond of cushy dinners, mostly because the purpose of them is to try and earn his favor as the head of the Ragnvindr Clan. He’s far outgrown the small talks and fake smiles, so of course he rejects those invitations in favor of another social event he claims to dislike but you suspect he secretly enjoys — drinking parties at Angel’s Share.
He doesn’t enjoy drinking by any means, but you’re sure after observing Diluc many times that he likes the lively atmosphere; seeing your friends make fools of themselves and speak loosely with relaxed smiles reminding him of simpler times.
And so, maybe Diluc has a glass of wine or two. You aren’t sure what his alcohol tolerance is, but in short you end up sitting at the bar with him, and you swear he’s leaning against the counter while you banter, gazing up at you with a fondness that makes you afraid you’ll break the spell of the moment. 
It’s a little delusional to think this of the Diluc Ragnvindr, but he looks pretty. And if you gulped down another drink, maybe you can convince yourself he’s leaning towards you with his hair slightly disheveled because he likes you too.
“Come on, they’re not that drunk.” You play back. The lighthearted argument makes Diluc seem a little younger. Or maybe that’s just how he looks when he’s not consciously frowning or lips pressed into a serious line.
“Kaeya’s missing all his targets on the dartboard. I’d call that drunk enough.”
“You can tell? I don’t think I’d be able to even if I was sitting with them now.”
“So you’d rather be talking to them?” Diluc raises his brow, surprising you. He doesn’t say anything for a beat, then another, before a gleeful laugh bubbles from your lips.
“Are you feeling jealous?” You lean closer to Diluc, faces an inch apart. The bravado that courses through your veins is quickly extinguished and flares into burning hot fluster when Diluc’s fingers curl around your chin:
“And if I said yes?” His words ghost over your lips. Your ears are on fire.
Oh no.
405 notes · View notes
domnamewoman · 7 months
Note
what would shang tsung, syzoth, smoke and rain be like with a gn!witch? who do spell with more natural things, like crystal, herbs, etc... imagine them being like "I found this little rock, maybe you'd like it" and their s/o picks it up like it's a goblin lol. I love your work, u are amazing 🌟
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Characters: Rain, Shang Tsung, Reptile, Smoke
Warnings: Witch!GN!Reader
Masterlist
Requests Are Open
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“Can you hand me the duck feathers?” You ask, reaching out your hand to Syzoth.
Syzoth picks up the feathers from the table and walks over to you, placing them in your hand.
“Thank you.” You grab the feathers and stir them into the brewing elixir.
“It amazes me that all these random ingredients can be mixed together to create magic,” Syzoth says in wonderment.
“It’s not so much the ingredients than it is the intention of the person mixing them.”
“Hmm, so the real power comes from you,” Syzoth contemplates as he wraps his arms around your waist and rests his chin on your shoulder.
“Yes, I guess in a way.” You nod, “But I can’t enchant someone without them being exposed to the potion in some way.”
“You seemed to do a pretty good job of enchanting me,” Syzoth mumbles into your cheek as he places a kiss there, “Making me fall for you.”
“You are so cheesy,” You grumble, loving every part of it.
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“I think I might pass out…” Zeffeero pants as he hovers over the toilet.
“I’m so sorry, baby.” You apologize as you rub comforting circles on his back.
“Why”–heave–”Why would you even need a p-potion that induces vomiting?”
“It can be useful to demobilize an enemy during a fight,” You reason sympathetically.
“Except I’m not an enemy who's trying to fig-” Zeffeero gets cut off by more contents getting expelled from his stomach.
“I mean it is kind of your fault. Why would you drink a random liquid you haven’t seen before?”
Zeffeero turns his head to you and glares, “M-My fault? I was thirsty. Why was your potion in the refrigerator?”
“The ingredients had to be cold in order to fuse together properly,” You sigh as Zeffeero is hit with another bought of vomiting, “Okay, I should have labeled it. I’m sorry.”
“H-How long is it s-supposed to last?” Zeffeero pants out.
You cringe, “Two hours…”
“Two hours!?”
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Shang Tsung stares at the potion you were brewing with repulsion. He leans over and takes a sniff before quickly covering his nose and holding back a gag.
“You know, I would be most delighted to teach you my sorcery. It is more sophisticated than creating vile concoctions like this.”
“Oh shush, there is more than one way to do magic, Shang. This is mine,” You say as you add five drops of toad’s blood to the cauldron.
“It’s tedious and ineffective in an emergency. You have to spend time brewing potions and then have someone consume it for it to work,” Shang Tsung argues.
“They don’t have to consume it, I can also put it in a bottle and throw it at them like a Molotov. Also, making potions isn’t tedious, I actually find it rather relaxing.”
“What could be relaxing about this horrid smell?”
You roll your eyes before turning to Shang Tsung and raising an eyebrow, “Well if your sorcery is so sophisticated, why don’t you zap away the smell?”
You and Shang Tsung stare at each other, your smile growing by the second. Shang Tsung pompously waves his hand before turning around and walking away.
“I thought so,” you chuckle as you turn back to your potion.
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You’re standing in your spell room, organizing your crystals and taking stock of potion supplies when Tomas excitedly bursts through the door.
“Baby, I got you something,” Tomas sings as he walks up to you with his hands behind his back.
“What is it?” You excitedly inquire as you try to peek around him.
“Something almost as beautiful as you.”
“Show me already,” You impatiently demand.
“Ta-da!” Says Tomas as he brings his hands in front of him and extends his fingers to reveal a rainbow-colored crystal sitting in his palms.
“Oh my gosh, Tomas-”
“It’s pretty isn’t it? I knew you would lov-”
“No, it’s dangerous.” You snatch it out of his hand and jog to the front door, throwing it as far as you can away from the house. “That is a lifeforce-draining crystal.”
“I-I just thought it was a pretty rock… I’m sorry.”
You shake your head lovingly at Tomas as you comfortingly rub his arm, “I appreciate the thought, anyway. Just leave the crystal scavenging to me.”
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zoro-jpg · 8 months
Text
After an argument - headcanon
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In deep waters with the crew
Headcanon, romance, angst, fluff
Gn! Reader x bf/gf!strawhats
An: I’d love if you guys requested headcanons!! Also just want more one piece moots<33 tysm for the support so far! (Also I’m just starting to learn about these characters so there could be some inaccuracies!!! I’m cruising purely off vibes 🕺)
Sanji
-is slightly upset for a couple of minutes (sometimes it's even just a mere few seconds), then acts as if nothing ever happened
-saunters up to you with a smile, and smothers you in kisses and hugs, if you're playing hard to get, he's not gonna leave you be until you return his affection
-you can't stay mad at him for too long, he just has this power over everybody. He is too adorable
-for him to forgive you, you just need to make a warm, affectionate peace offering, he's not one who can't forgive you easily. Just give him a smooch and poof ~ forgiven
Zoro
-is giving you the silent treatment (I MF hate the silent treatment), locks himself up in his room
-thinks he was right every time
-needs some time to think about the whole argument, and after a little while later he admits that you both were wrong and apologizes for his indecent behavior
-for him to forgive you, you need to do something dramatic, ofc he likes to talk it out, but he prefers to see your actions over some cheap words
Nami
-She regretted saying things she didn't mean at all
-so frustrated she’s not gonna let it slide without you proving why you’d be right with convincing reasons
-but when she realizes she was wrong, she is quick to apologize (somewhat begrudgingly)
-for her to forgive you, you need to give her a teeny bit of flattery, it will work most of the time, just say things like you don't deserve her love or something like that
Luffy
-just knows he's right (and he sadly is actually right)
-once things cool down, he is quick to forgive and forget, just hates the whole awkward atmosphere after an argument
-tries to make jokes here and there just to see how you react so he can feel out the signals you’re sending
-for him to forgive you, you have to promise to never commit that same mistake again, although he's not one who can stay mad at someone for very long over petty things
Ussop
-can't stay mad for a too long of a time, sure he is upset with you, but he’s def not gonna show it to you
-trying to please you in any way possible
-all the while trying to find the real reason for the argument, and trying to solve it by himself
-for him to forgive you, you need to add a bit of humor to cover up your wrong doings, again he can't stay mad for a long time
Robin
-it's really rare to have a heated argument with her, she is just super cooperative and fair-minded
-prefers to find a solution that is good for the both of you
-not gonna forget about it for a long time though, she is going to think about it for a while after
-for her to forgive you, you need to do the same thing, just give her an effortful apology, and talk it out. Poof magic, it’s all fixed
Franky
-is really upset about how far this whole thing went, hates arguing with you so much (he def cried)
-apologizes hundreds of times, like to the point where you almost feel bad after
-a whole cuddle session for hours after it (with a lot of kisses), like never ever letting go of you
-for him to forgive you, you have to give a sensitive and genuine apology (with TeArS!), he requires patience and lots of love, especially if you hurt him deeply, you just need to prove that you deserve his forgiveness
Brook
-is feeling guilty right at the moment, especially seeing how upset it made you
-apologies almost immediately, the next few days, he does everything for you to try and make it up
-sits down with you and tries to really discuss the issue and some solutions
-for him to forgive you, you need to have a straightforward apology, admit your wrongdoings
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footprintsinthesxnd · 1 month
Note
hey girly! Idk if your requests are open but we neeeeeed something for bucky from mota. maybe something like enemies to lovers with a war nurse? thxxxx
A Second Chance
Thank you so much for your request anon. I’m so sorry it took so long. I feel that I may not have the skill set to write John Egan as well as other writers but I’m hoping that I can do him justice. Also two posts this weekend because why not.
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John Egan was insufferable. Y/n had decided that from the moment she’d first met him, with his cocky smile, his stupid moustache, his bright eyes and… no he was just insufferable. She’d never met a man so full of himself that he gave his best friend the same nickname, and yet Gale Cleven seemed like the sweetest man on earth.
“You’re staring again,” Rosie chuckled, looking up from his battered book ‘Of Mice and Men’ with a cheeky smile.
“Yes with utter disgust, I mean look at him,” Y/n pointed, watching as Rosie glanced over at the Major who was currently leaning against the bar, flirting with the poor barmaid who seemed besotted with him. “He’d flirt with anything that moved.” 
“Including you apparently,” Rosie chuckled, “Just admit that you aren’t a tiny bit jealous. I just want to hear you admit it.”
Y/n glared daggers at the pilot who was using his book to shield his smiling face. She lurched forward trying to smack him but he shoved the book at her.
“No, no, not the moustache again,” he shielded his hand over his mouth, eyes wide as he glared at her. She may have accidentally pulled his moustache once when they were arguing about the same Major and Rosie’s moustache had taken the hit.
“You know that was an accident.”
“Yes, but it’s never grown the same since,” he protested, stroking his facial hair thoughtfully. “You’re always moaning about Major Egan's moustache, I thought mine was a goner.”
Y/n sighed dramatically, slouching in her chair. She wondered if she should tell Rosie the real reason why she held such a grudge towards John Egan. That, however, would involve her confessing that she was madly in love with John.
Rosie’s eyes remained trained on his book and Y/n fought the urge to interrupt him again. Instead, she remained silent, thinking back to that night in June when the air in London had been close and hot, sticking to the sweat on her skin, the pale evening light casting shadows over the hotel room, the white sheets soft and comfortable, his embrace loving, his words kind and… all completely false.
Y/n hadn’t believed in love at first sight but seeing John Egan in his uniform, smirking at her across the crowded pub, something inside her had changed. He’d been effortlessly charming and she was eating out of his palm before the night was through.
John Egan had promised to visit her, promised he’d write, but several months passed and no letters came Y/n gave up, putting John behind her. That was until she had to report to Thorpe Abbott RAF base and ran into a particular Major.
John, however, seemed oblivious to their previous encounter, barely sending her a smile as he strolled passed with several other pilots by his side. From that day forward Y/n held a grudge against John Egan.
“Here we go…” Rosie mumbled under his breath, but before Y/n could ask what he meant a low hum came from behind her.
“Evening Rosie, Y/n,” John nodded to both of them, Gale Cleven by his side doing the same.
“Majors,” Rosie greeted them, placing his book down on the table.
“Major Cleven,” Y/n greeted Gale, her eyes avoiding the other Major. Gale glanced quizzically between the pair, before looking to Rosie for answers, but he only shrugged.
“Have I done something to offend you, Darling?” John smirked at her, leaning across the table, his moustache twitching at the corners. He had the same cocky air about him that he always wore but the added nickname just added fuel to the fire that was already burning.
Y/n snorted, “Do not think your presence has such an effect on me, Major. I’m afraid not every woman falls at your feet.”
Gale let a low whistle slip from his lips, but John just grinned, “Alright, I see someone’s a little jealous, didn’t realise I had an admirer.”
Y/n stood swiftly from her chair, rounding the table and jabbing her finger into John’s chest, “I am not jealous and why would I be? Why would I lower my standards to such an arrogant, self-centered man.” She removed her finger from his chest, turning on her heels and exiting the pub as fast as her legs would allow her.
Gale looked between Rosie and John, “Will someone please explain what just happened?”
Rosie shrugged, picking up his book and fumbling through the pages until he found his spot. John chuckled, “I think I may have offended her in some way, though I know not how.”
“You really think you offended her, huh?” Gale replied sarcastically, avoiding his friend's light shove with an amused laugh.
John truly did wonder what he’d done so wrong to offend her. He’d only known her a few months when she turned up on base dressed in her dress blues declaring she was newly assigned to Thorpe Abbott infirmary. He greeted her with a smile and she glared at him in response. From that day forward it had been an all-out war between the two of them.
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Y/n had just finished tidying up the examination room when there was a light tap at the door, she called out ‘enter’, her back still turned to whoever it was.
“This is quite a nice place you’ve got here, Darling,” John declared, leaning against the doorframe, smiling devilishly.
Y/n sighed, instantly on the defensive, “What do you want, Major,” she emphasised his rank disdainfully, rolling her eyes as she continued to pack up the crate of dressings.
John hummed behind her, moving around the room until he was in front of her once more, “So…” he paused, craning his neck to try and catch her eye. “How are you finding life on base?”
That’s it, John, a nice simple question. She can’t get too offended by that, right?
Y/n all but tutted, shaking her head, “Life would be just fine, except a certain Major keeps ruining my day.” She shoved passed him, carrying the crate out of the room and down the corridor, her heels clicking against the tiled floor followed by a larger heavier footfall.
“Hey Darling, wait up. I hadn’t finished talking to you,” John protested, moving swiftly in front of her and stopping her movements.
“What?” She snapped this time, her patience wearing thin and the long list of jobs she had still playing on her mind.
John sighed, rubbing his hand down his face, “I just want to know what I did. I’ve barely said two words to you since you got here and somehow I’ve offended you. Whatever I’ve done I’m sorry, okay?” He didn’t mean to sound so exasperated but he wasn’t sure what more he could say.
Y/n watched him, her face faltering ever so slightly before the stoic expression returned. “The fact that you don’t remember makes all of this worse. I didn’t realise our night was so awful you pushed it from your mind. So much for ‘I’ll keep in touch’,” she spat, pushing the crate into him and moving on passed without a backward glance. She’d said her piece, he could do with that what he will.
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John sat on the wing of Mugwump, his legs swinging in mid-air as he took a long swig from his hit flask. His mind still reeling from the afternoon's events as the guilt ate away at him.
He’d fished the letter out from his belongings, tracing over the return address. He should have realised her name was familiar, but then again he should have written her back.
John was still trying to piece together how he hadn’t realised it was her, but with the amount they’d both consumed he was surprised Y/n even remembered him. That still didn’t help clear his conscience.
“Bucky, you up there,” Gale called, glancing around the plane until he noticed the pair of legs hanging from the wing. “What are you doing?”
“I messed up Gale,” John mumbled, taking another drink. He was always impressed by how much whiskey his hot flask could hold and he was starting to feel a nice warm sensation as it flowed around his body.
“What have you done?” Gale asked, hoisting himself up the ladder and onto the wing beside John. He offered Gale his hit flask but the other pilot shook his head, waiting for his friend’s explanation.
“Do you remember that night I had in London a few months ago? When I said I met this amazing woman and we had a wonderful night together, she wanted me to write to her and she wrote me a letter and I never replied,” John rambled, his tongue becoming looser as the alcohol flowed. “Well, that’s Y/n, the nurse on base. It’s the same woman, Gale.”
Gale nodded, processing his friend's confession, “Well at least now we know why she’s so angry at you all the time, you were a total ass.”
John rolled his eyes glaring at Gale, “Thanks Buck, that’s really helpful.” Groaning, John pushed himself up, balancing precariously on Mugwump’s wing. “I’ve gotta make it up to her, Buck. Women like grand gestures, don't they?”
Buck shuffled further away from the edge of the wing before standing, grasping his friend's hands, “I don’t think she wants a grand gesture, Bucky. I think she just wants you to apologise.”
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Passing back and forth down the infirmary corridor, John found himself fighting the urge to make a run for it. He could easily head down the corridor and back out onto the hardstand before anyone noticed he was there in the first place.
Movement from within the infirmary caught his eye. He watched curiously as Y/n moved along the beds, sitting down beside a wounded airman, his head clad in bandages, covering the burns he’d sustained on the last mission. She was speaking quietly to him, too quietly for John to hear, but he saw the young man instantly relax in her presence. She was a good nurse and John had taken her kindness for granted. He had to make things right.
He wrapped his knuckles against the door, waiting for the mumbled reply, before pushing it open. Y/n was smoothing down some fresh bedding, tucking the sheets tightly into the bed.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” he interrupted, watching as her movements still and her whole body stiffened. He hated that he had this effect on her.
“What can I do for you, Major?” Her voice was plain, emotionless and her eyes seemed hollow, as though she stared right through him.
John felt his palms sweating as he spoke, “I need to talk to you, to apologise for my behaviour.” Y/n seemed uninterested in what he had to say, continuing with the task at hand, but John wasn’t about to give up on her again.
“My behaviour has been unacceptable and I know that I can probably never make it up to you but I want to try. I was not in my best form the night that we met, I was drunk and uncaring and I’m sorry I never wrote back. I intended to but I just never did, and I have no excuse, I’m just sorry I never did. You’re a great girl and any man would be lucky to have you write to them, I only wish that I hadn’t messed things up.”
John had never outed his heart out before, he’d never even revealed this kind of vulnerability to Gale, so he was a little shocked. Had he said too much? Would she hate him even more now?
Y/n had stopped her movements, still bent over the bed, her hand clutching the sheet. John watched her shoulders sag, and a long, drawn-out sigh slipped from her lips.
“It’s okay, John,” she murmured, defeat evident in her appearance. “I knew the kind of man you were when we met, I was just excited that a man such as yourself wanted to give someone like me any kind of attention.
She stood up, a few tears trickling down her cheeks, “You know the worst thing was I really did think you’d write back. That’s what hurt the most. Then when I got my orders to move to Thorpe Abbott I thought maybe we had a chance, but you didn’t even recognise me and I knew I never stood a chance.”
The pair stood in silence, the clock on the wall ticking louder than ever as time passed. John spoke up first, unable to stand the tension any longer.
“I’m so sorry, Y/n, for all of it. I understand now why you hate me so much, and I wouldn’t blame you. Is there any way I can make it up to you? Any way at all?”
Y/n’s forehead creased as she thought, her nose wrinkling as it had the same night they’d met when he’d asked her about her family. He could see it now, all the small details that he’d appreciated when he met her, if only he’d taken the time to study her when she came to base he’d have known.
Y/n shook her head, “What’s done is done. Let’s just move on and forget about it all.” She turned away, returning to the bed she’d been making, but John grabbed her arm.
“I don’t want to forget it, any of it. That night with you was one of the best nights of my life. I was free from judgment when I was with you. You never once called me Major or treated me like I was better than you, you treated me like a normal person,” John admitted, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “And I’d really like another shot if you’d let me.”
“Alright,” Y/n replied, “But if you break my heart again, Major then I won’t be so forgiving.”
John chuckled, saluting her, “Anything you say, Ma’am.”
Y/n rolled her eyes turning back to her job, but John spun her back around to face him, “I have some leave coming up to go to London. What do you say to come with me?”
Y/n smiled softly, “I’d love to, but I don’t know whether I can get the leave.”
“All sorted, it’s already been approved.”
Y/n raised an eyebrow, “Well that’s pretty cocky of you, Major. What were you planning on doing if I said no?”
John grinned, “I would have just asked Buck to come with me, although he’s not nearly as beautiful and I don’t think I’d want to share a bed with him, he snores you know.”
Y/n laughed, moving her arms so they rested behind his neck, fumbling with the soft hair at the base of his neck. “Alright Major, you’ve got yourself a deal.”
John grinned, cupping her cheek softly in his palm, he pressed his lips down to her, his moustache tickling her lips but that was the least of her concerns. His hands moved to her hips, resting firmly and pulling her closer. He smiled into the kiss, it felt so right, bringing back all the memories from London all those months ago. He wished he’d written her back now, he could have been kissing her all this time, but at least he could make up for lost time now and he intended to.
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Tags: @georgieluz @docroesmorphine @major-mads @violetdaze25 @bcofl0ve @precious-little-scoundrel @blurredcolour @artlover8992 @b00ks1ut @xxluckystrike @hockeyboysarehot @groovin2beats @kmc1989 @ginabaker1666 @hesbuckcompton-baby @blueberry-ovaries
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dhampling · 3 months
Text
one more fem!reader, 2.9k
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“You are truly selfless, Astarion. Ilmater in the flesh.”  He rocks her slightly. Kisses her small head. “Don’t listen to your mother, darling. If you’re alone in your perfection you’ll be fighting off every eligible hand in Faerûn when you’re bigger. Wouldn’t want that burden solely on you now, would we?” - Your home is quaint. Astarion continues to insist it isn’t busy enough. astarion x fem!reader word count: 2.9k a/n: this is VERY FLUFFY and VERY SMUTTY. VERY, VERY SMUTTY. ALSO VERY FLUFFY. breedy stuff, graphic descriptions, milkers, basically filth. read parts one, two, and three respectively but can probably be read alone. afab reader.
Your home is quaint. Astarion continues to insist it isn’t busy enough. 
Not enough chaos, he argues; sipping from a glass as a king may a chalice, ruminating, swilling; tipping his head from side to side in measured consideration, often with youngling in one arm as you talk late into the early hours. Incense clouds you in a rich haze of ashy whirls. 
How perfect would it be if we could both hold one? Or even two in tandem?
“Just think. If we continue now, they’ll all have left sooner. More time for us.” He reasons with an airy gesture, a satisfied smile. 
You hum
“If we’re arguing along those lines then there’s certainly a case to be made for no more now, don’t you think?” You whisper, running a finger down the infant’s cheek as he holds her.
Astarion sighs. Looks down at the small gurgling thing in the crook of his arm with a quiet grin, too lovestruck to have any real belief in your rebuttal.
You sit in a huddle on the lounger, blankets swallowing the three of you. He keeps her close while you work inroads into a book you’ve been meaning to read since before she was born. The open shutters across the room give a perfect view of the speckled night sky. 
He’s genuinely proud. Smiles like an idiot. Often forgets the frightfully draining toll that your pregnancy and her subsequent birth took on you when he waxes lyrical to his patriars about his plans to expand the brood as soon as possible. The women tend to look straight your way with a relatable pity. 
On occasion he even has the tendency to talk like he had a real part in any aspect of her nine month gestation beyond conception, which you’ll remind him fast with a sharp elbow that he certainly did not.
He’s an idiot. A beautiful one, but an idiot nonetheless.
“But look at her! She’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. We can’t simply deny the world more of this. It’d be criminal. ’
He turns and presses a soft kiss to your cheek.
‘I’m past that now, obviously; so I do feel my bare minimum, most humble contribution to society can be in the spreading of our perfect genetics throughout the whole of Toril.”
His hand lifts as if in visualisation. You paw it back down, eyes returned to the pages.
“You are truly selfless, Astarion. Ilmater in the flesh.” 
He rocks her slightly. Kisses her small head.
“Don’t listen to your mother, darling. If you’re alone in your perfection you’ll be fighting off every eligible hand in Faerûn when you’re bigger. Wouldn’t want that burden solely on you now, would we?”
You scoff with a smile.
“That’s if any of them are able to get remotely close with you lurking about, love.”
He grimaces in good humour and tilts his head once more. Clicks his tongue.
“We’ll cross that barrier when we come to it, I’m sure.’
Gently he shuffles even closer to you, leaning to smatter your candle-warm face in a surprise flutter of giddy kisses. Eyes soft, unhindered. 
This may just be the most gooey you’ve ever seen him.
‘You are right, though. I am missing the gory beauty in a good pile of viscera. I don’t necessarily see that fading in the coming decades.”
“I am always right.”
Astarion brushes a wayward hair down by your ear and gives one last kiss.
“That you are, my dear. Always.”
-
His sentiment rattles in your head for a while. Sitting in the shop with babe in arm, balancing the books while he trances back home, you find yourself driven to wreck by the unholiest visions of him.
Burning heat. Underclothes missing. 
Fingers ghost the burgeoning swell under your immaculate dress skirt. 
Molten hot, sticky linen; keening desperately into the palm of his hand as you lean over the counter. 
Fraught.
A veritable army of his children born from you. 
There’s a charm in the way he pleads his case to you. You’re not one to deny him when he finds his joys - gods know he’s endured enough of that during his life - and you know all too well you bartered on the idea of three that first night. 
You think long back to the night you met out in the wilderness. 
How scared he must’ve been in retrospect; how haughty he came across. The rake. The rogue. How you’d slept with a knife strapped to your garter because you simply couldn’t get a grasp on his energy, what he wanted from the tadpole.
Astarion. Now every part the housecat.
You weigh the pros and cons in your mind. 
Admittedly, the cons list is large.
You dislike delving into your own complications regarding the birth of the dhampling now sleeping soundly in your arms because for the most part, they feel trivial. Moot. So many beings across the realms rear young every single day. 
However, you remember refusing to let yourself forget the sheer scalding pain many do. 
The days of fraught groaning in that dark sweaty chamber. The awful, awful hunger. Blood.
The paranoia over any possible gaps in the heavy shutters. Asking Astarion to step in front of the window time and time over to check for the smallest of notches or splits, the hysterical fear of the sun coming into contact with the infant. Both breaking into tears from sheer exhaustion and heightened tension more times than you can recall.
The blood from your womb. Rancid. He later assured that if anything it was a genuinely indulgent smell; but to you it smelled of rot. Decay. White sheets covered in brown spidery spatters.
Then the relief. Unbridled. Wailing and wailing and wailing.
A part of you enjoys it. He knows you do. The quiet dominance carrying his child implies; the lifelong commitment it ensures. 
And her.
The love of your life. Small and warm and breathing yet coloured with the pallid tones of her father. Reddened eyes, pointed ears. When she latches you now feel the sharp pins of burgeoning fangs. 
He gave her to you. He gave you a life of normalcy; where the prospect of a future is real, as opposed to a far-flung hope shared over a bottle of cheap ale. Devastatingly beautiful, life-ruiningly stupid; and all yours. You had to teach him how to use a kettle, for Lathander’s sake. You still want him to fuck you, even after that.
But you love him. Ridiculous as it is, that love is more than enough. More than you ever hoped your lot in life to be.
If he wants you to give him babies, he can have babies. You want babies, but only if they are, indeed, his.
You sigh with a content resolve. Though life is long, these moments feel shorter and shorter. 
Your home together will never see hazy stasis again.
-
The moment dusk begins to blossom you head home in new rain. 
You whip through the door after balancing the close of your parasol with the carrier, satchel forgotten in the entryway and shoes quickly slipped under the bench. The wind outside whips furiously against the shutters and the unending downpour of rain threatens to encroach on your worn terracotta tile. 
You carry the youngling carefully up the stairs as Astarion calls after you and place her in the cot, planting a firm kiss on her head and watching for a few moments until she settles. 
He’s still sat whining in the den when you descend and turn the corner. 
Glasses balanced on his nose, cross legged and covered in patchwork throws. Book balanced on one leg. 
“What have you done to her? Why can’t I see her-’
You flit to him and close the book while he continues to protest loudly, placing it onto the carpet and sitting snugly in his lap. Legs astride his thighs, calves wrapping around his waist. Glasses placed on the sill.
‘What have you done?! Answer me woman!” He shrieks as you laugh, bringing his hands to your own waist and holding you tight. Shaking you up and down on his thighs like a bottle of Soldier’s Champagne. Eyes wide as yours in fresh glee. 
“I love you. I love you.” You murmur through giggles, pressing your forehead to his. He laughs loudly.
“I love you too! But where is my daughter?!” He is taken aback in the most pleasant of ways - mouth wide in a clueless grin, brows furrowed. Puzzled.
You still in a wide smile.
“You saw me take her upstairs! She’s fine! Idiot!”
“Okay! Brilliant! Why-’
He gestures up and down at your bubbling form.
‘Why this!?”
You lean into him once more - not missing the way his eyes blow out when looking at your joyous lips - and bring him straight by the lapels before pulling him in for the deepest kiss you can give. Hungry, jubilant; life-worn and yet happy. So incredibly happy.
“What in the hells is going on?!” He laughs into your mouth between the little kisses you press to his lips in quick succession, cupping his face in your hands then wrapping your arms over his shoulders.
“Another one. Let’s do it.”
It takes him a few moments of blankly staring with the same wide smile plastering his face. 
“What?”
“Another little child thing. With you. With me. Ours. Yes?”
It almost looks as if Astarion is going to crumble under the weight of your words. 
The same stupid smile, unchanged. Eyes on the precipice of an incredibly serious emotion entirely dependent on your next words.
“Really?”
“No.”
“What?”
You shake your head and laugh. 
“Of course really. Really really.”
Every single part of him switches alight. He bounces you in his lap once more and you see it in him. The joy. The plan coming to fruition. His stupidly reverent love for you and the dhampling asleep upstairs, the many ways in which he wants to see just how full the heart can grow with each one.
“Really really really?” 
His voice drops to a low whisper. The honey tone. Dulcet and laced with ribbons of clandestine hope.
You roll your eyes fondly. 
“Really really, really, really.” 
-
Shirts delicately washed ruffle by intricate ruffle hanging beside the wood stove in the glass-room. Hands fresh of suds. Towel dried, oat balm. The faintest whiff of Noblestalk.
You smile knowingly.
“She’s asleep?” 
You whisper a whine; crawling forward on the counter with your elbows, panting, intuitively angling at where you anticipate him once he sees you. 
“Not for long, I-’
Astarion’s voice spasms on seeing the subtle shake of your hips. The reverberation of your ass. 
‘I think.”
A growl. 
“Quick. Now.” 
He bunches your skirt at your waist by the hem and loosens the soft ties of his night trousers. Presses his newly freed cock flush against the pillow of your ass and reaches around your front to run icy fingers down the centre of your already keen wetness. A fire tool, a glacier, the hiss-relief of his incendiary touch as his hips curl up into your core.
“Bend over. Keep that skirt up.”
Your underclothes are tugged unceremoniously to the floor as he kneels, lifted leg-by-leg from you and shimmied aside. Lifts his perfect head under the front of your houseskirt and his nose unexpectedly pressures your clit, his forehead resting into the flesh of your pubic bone as he licks a wanton stripe along your sex. Affixes his lips around your sodden hole and indulges himself in tongue fucking you for a brief minute, savouring ever drop of your lust-hazed salt. Your back arches and you wish for not a single thing than to suffocate him between your burning thighs as he gives you the most immense pleasure with that infamous mouth.
Not now. He would probably cry. 
Wasted opportunity.
Wasted opportunity to fuck you full of his cum. 
Every chance you’re fertile is one he wants his cock filling you to the very hilt, rocking shallowly against the very barrier of your cervix just so he can be sure every last drop carries, to impregnate you once more.
His hand - pooling with your free-given spittle - strokes his aching prick with learned urgency as he takes his fill from your soak into his waiting mouth.
“Fuck me. Please, fuck me.” You stutter as you buck your hips, fucking yourself on his tongue.
He has the nerve to laugh, soundwaves resonating deep within the attraction of your heated core. 
Shifts to take your clit between his lips and suckles, rolling over the bunch of engorged nerves with a thoroughly debauched tongue.
“Go on. Beg for it.” He speaks barely above a whisper, gravelly in intonation. 
You can’t see his face but you just know his eyes are heavy-lidded in the anticipatory pleasure of hearing it.
Hearing that you want him to fuck you like a bitch in heat.
That you need him to pump his swollen head to white-hot relief between your spongy soaked walls; to smatter your cunt with his cum, to make you round by his doing once more. 
“All the prespill you’re wasting in your hand could have had it, you know.’
You whisper quietly, knowing you don’t want the youngling asleep in her room to wake. You’re seething with pure lust.
‘Could’ve had the fertile seed. The one to give us life again.”
He growls, leaving his latch on your clit with one last long lick before standing and moving flush to your ass once more. He smacks the plump flesh as quietly as he can muster.
“Say that again and I’ll have to fuck you with my fingers first next time. Make sure we don’t miss anything.” He hisses. 
You stifle a wanton laugh.
“Don’t threaten me with a- ah!”
He bobs at the entrance to your cunt, soaking his own weeping slit.
Astarion doesn’t waste time with ceremony as he takes your eager cunt in one fell swoop; cock bruising your insides in an agonisingly beautiful burn. His moans are shaky with sheer pleasure. Every one of your nerves are set alight as he stills for a moment at the hilt. 
You’re almost sure if you moved even an inch now while he adjusts he’d ejaculate there and then. 
“Say it.” He whispers, leaning over you as you arch over the counter. His hand moves to your belly and presses the skin over his cock hard. 
The searing feeling of every single inch of him. The ghost of a whimper. Your eyes roll into your skull.
At any other time you’d joke.
But you - at the very hottest moment of your heat cycle - picture nothing aside from the leaking red slit of his cock currently rubbing in the slightest of ruts at the tip of your cervix, leaking prespill into your hungry womb like glacial water at the height of midsun.
Your walls tighten around him as he presses even harder into the spot just below your tummy.
“Take me.”
He snaps.
Pulling back to secure either side of your waist in both hands, he starts rutting furiously into you over and over, shallow wet glubs, hellbent lust evident in the cream ring crowning your waiting hole. The crease by his brow as his face crumples in desperation time and time again. 
His fixation on your point of connection is unbreakable, watching the bounce of his cock as he fucks it into you; each twinge potentially giving the leakage that gives you it. The thing he desires most.
Another baby. 
You’re cresting on the edge as it is. Between your duties to your young daughter, your own intellectual pursuits, and Astarion’s tailor shop; it’s been far too long since you’ve copulated as frantically, as desperately as you are now. Every pump inside you is another closer to glory and your fingers work your clit with the joyous fervour of a newly anointed priest. 
He continues to fuck you against the counter.
The press of your heavy tits against the solid wood, the pebbling of milk-sodden nipples through your thin nursing blouse giving the dark oak a parallel run of glossy streaks with each of his thrusts. 
Fucking hells.
Another one. Another dhampir. Mother of two, his again and again. Three become four. You will it to be as you watch the milky swirls on the counter. 
You’ll be bursting with him once more. The sheer ruin.
The white hot glare of your orgasm comes thick and fast, and it takes everything in you not to shriek in sheer pleasure. 
He sags. 
Stutters. 
Groans silently, aching cock kicking violently against your walls as he releases through the clench of your own spasms. Ropes upon ropes of cum plugged deep at the entrance to your cervix with the engorged head of his prick. 
You roll your hips to aid him through his release, rocking a little back and forth to ensure the pointed tip spears every bit of his seed where necessary.
It takes a few moments for the white-blind to subside, for the beleaguered groans to give way to sloppy, soft kisses down your shoulder blades.
He stays until you hear the sound of stirring upstairs, lifting a hand to ensure you’re hearing correctly.
“I’ll go. Lie down, hips up?” 
You laugh.
“Got it. Glad to see the doting in full effect so soon.”
One last kiss on the stretch of your neck. Thoughtful. Quiet. He holds you like he never wants to let go.
“Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
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ynsvnte · 2 months
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Everyone adores you (at least I do) — Park Jongseong
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Genre: fluff, friends to lovers, slight angst, wc: 868 warnings: swearing, pet names, kissing, arguing, pairing: bff!Jay x fem!reader
Synopsis: Your were always well liked growing up even by Jay. Having a huge crush on you and trying to show signals. until that’s when he had enough.
Sing along at Lispenard St. (Series Masterlist)
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Jay smiled hearing your giggles. Oh how downright bad this boy was for you. Little backstory, You and Jay grow up being neighbors and your parents thought about inviting their new neighbors over to welcome them. When you both first met, you both clicked instantly. Having a friend around during the weekends was great. As you and Jay were insuperable, growing up everyone knew how much Jay liked you. Everyone expect, you. You did like Jay at one point but just gave up as one of your friends also liked him too and you thought she deserved him more (she got rejected) Now in university you both are going to the same university. Still insuperable.
“Hey Jay look..” you show Jay your phone, a video of a puppy that you thought was adorable. Jay gets closer and watches the video. Laughing at the cute puppy. “Hmm, very cute..” He said. You turn off your phone and sit up. “So are you doing anything..this weekend..?” You asked Jay, curious what he's been up to. “Nothing really, just might just stay indoors all day maybe..” your mouth widens. “Staying indoors..? Jay you got to be kidding me. You should go out with your friends and find yourself a girlfriend..” your words seemed pathetic to him. Girlfriend? Who is he to find one when he has you..that’s if the feeling is mutual of course. “Yn look I’m not looking for someone right now..” all lies he wants you. “Whatever” you roll your eyes at him. Jay could only hope that one day you could realize his feelings for you..
2 days later..
You and Jay are now in his dorm room. Working on assignments that are due tomorrow. “Some professors should fucking rot in hell.” You muttered, making Jay laugh. “Yeah..but watch that pretty mouth of yours..” he warns. He glances over to you. Noticing you didn’t react to his words. He only signs before going back to work. Trying to ignore the feeling of annoyance.
1 week later
Jay visits you unexpectedly.
“Hey..” he said awkwardly. You wave at him allowing him inside. “So what brings you here?” You asked him. “Nothing just bored sweetheart.” Sweetheart..this made you blush a bit but you ignore the feeling. Jay settles down onto your sofa getting comfortable.
“Hey now you’re the guest..” you say giving him a glare.. “yeah but this is like my second home.” You shake your head in disappointment before sitting down next to Jay. Turning on the tv.
“You know I had one girl ask me if we’re dating..” you spoke up. It wasn’t new for others to think you both were dating. Everyone was convinced you were together. Just by the way you both interact with each other. “Oh..” Jay said.. He wishes it was real..
“It would be weird if we dated..” okay ouch..Jay wished deeply how you see his feelings and his thoughts about you. To him you were the most perfect person in the world. Jay goes silent. Making you worried.
“You alright..?” You asked him.. jay nodded a bit before speaking up.
“Are you sure it would be weird if we dated..” Jay's tone was stern, making you shiver a bit. “Y-yeah..”
“And how would it be weird?” He asked, that question caught you off guard. “Well to be truthfully honest. I don’t know.. I mean you don’t like me-“
“Says who..?” Huh..? What does he mean by that.. “what..?” Okay now you’re very confused. “How do you know I don’t like you..” Well you don’t have any good reason at all you just assume because you thought Jay would never like you. Especially considering a lot of girls like him. “W-well i-i don’t know..” Jay only sighs in frustration.
“Yn..this is all bullshit..Yn I want to say this..I like you. More than a friend..I keep giving you hints hoping you would notice one day. But no you never do. I liked you for years. And yet you want to say it would be weird? Yn we’ve known each other for so long..” what.. his words shocked you. You face him with your eyes wides
“Huh-..” you’re only shocked. Not knowing your crush likes you back. Yeah after all you couldn’t move on. “You like me..?” You asked him. “Yes..” Jay says, looking straight at you. You only looked down at your lap. Before you feel a hand touch your face, grazing your cheek. You move your head slightly before seeing Jay's face close to yours. You and Jay both make eye contact. Not breaking it.
“C-can I..?” Jay asked. You only nodded your head. You feel his lips meet yours. His lips felt so nice. You move your arms and wrap it around his neck. And you feel him move, making you sit on his lap. You feel him wrap his arms around your waist. Pulling you closer. You both kiss for a few more minutes before pulling away. Both gasping for air. Jay pulls you into a hug..
“I love you…” he says softly into your ear.. you sink into his hug and kiss his cheek
“I love you too..” ahh young love.
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Author’s note: went overboard with Jay sorry but 800+ without me not losing motivation something is wrong.. 🦧 or it’s bc my drafts is filled and it’s annoying me so much
© ynsvnte copyright 2024
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copperbadge · 3 months
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More on mindfulness and meditation
I feel like perhaps I came across as anti-meditation in that last post I did on it, and there were some folks who were a bit vocal about not liking meditation in the notes, but the notes also had some great and interesting discussion of what can count as mindfulness that isn't traditional meditation and what some alternatives might be, so I wanted to do a follow-up. Especially since I don't think I'm going to get to respond to everyone individually.
The post was not meant to be anti-meditation, but to express frustration with the way meditation frequently is, or rather fails to be, taught. I can understand why people would struggle with "mindfulness" (vastly overused term) and meditation, so I'm not here to argue with or shame anyone, and I really appreciate the alternative suggestions. But because mindfulness can mean so many things, and people can meditate for many different reasons, I wanted to talk a little about why I'm being asked to do it.
It's easy to lose track of why one might try meditation for mental health, because the cause and effect are so temporally dislocated from each other. I try to keep in mind that my specific goal is emotional regulation deriving from increased present-moment attention. Some of the stuff that was suggested is great for a goal other than this, like puzzle games that allow people to empty their racing minds or activity that brings someone back into their body when dissociating -- both extremely laudable functions! -- but that's not why I'm here. Meditation is meant, for me, to be a maintenance medication, not a rescue inhaler.
There is science that suggest that mindfulness practice, under a specific definition of the term, can help to manage emotional dysregulation, ameliorate Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, and reduce depression and anxiety. I discuss the science in a slideshow here but essentially this specific form trains the attention into the present moment, which improves executive function -- and as we know, emotional regulation is a facet of executive function, so this leads to better emotional regulation.
There is not a lot of science on it yet so there is room here for yoursamplesizeissmall.jpg, but it's all we've got so I'm running with it. There is one foundational practice and three practices that build on it which effected this change in subjects of the study:
Breathing Meditation doesn't really confer any benefit the others don't, but the others all employ it as a basic practice. We know this can calm the parasympathetic nervous system, although to be honest I have not found that to be the case personally. As soon as I stop the deep breathing I'm right back where I was, likely because my issue is ruminational, not situational. But everything else wants you to breathe first, so I still have to do it.
Body Scan focuses attention on the body and as others have pointed out is good for people prone to dissociation. As I said in the other post, I live here; paying extra attention to my body isn't something I need. I was asked to try it anyway as part of a practice in keeping an open mind about stuff I think is dumb, and clearly I do need practice in that. Still, it's likely I'll be able to let this one go pretty soon.
Loving-Kindness asks you to think positively about others, expanding compassion from a single point outward to the world. I've encountered this before in reading Pema Chodron; I don't do it as meditation, but I do try to practice it in life because I am not naturally a patient or compassionate person, and that has been helpful in the sense that it keeps me from getting punched in the face a bunch. For me there's no real "train the attention to be in the present" aspect on account of that, however.
Observing-Thought is where you just sit with your thoughts, let them arise, sometimes label them in some way, and let them go. I was most interested in this purely because it's the only one I hadn't already encountered. I haven't found it useful so far, but I don't have enough data about it to be definitive, and if it is training executive function I would expect that to take time.
Now, I know that all four of these have science backing them, so I know that we're not just dealing in new-age woo here. The problem is functional, not theoretical. The issue overall is not "meditation is boring" -> "find a way to make it interesting", although I do appreciate that it may be an issue for others and I like that people were offering solutions. The issue for me is that the boredom derives from the fact that the meditation isn't being taught. There's no progressional learning -- there's no step-progress-reward-step-progress-reward like with most difficult skills.
Any task is boring if you aren't deriving any reward from it or you are being expected to execute it without skills or training, and in this case I'm facing down both. Long silences from a meditation leader are fine if you're there to engage with a practice you already have familiarity with, but if you're trying to learn, they are the opposite of helpful, and they are actively punishing to someone with ADHD.
I don't want to be entertained (I mean, generally I do, but in this case I don't expect it). What I want is a pedagogical approach that steps up to the practice rather than beginning with it, so that I know I'm doing it right, I experience rewards along the way similar to how I currently do learning Italian, and I have more confidence that what seems dull and fruitless actually will produce results.
Uh, so yeah thanks for coming to my TEDtalk; the fact that a practice that's especially hard for people with ADHD helps with almost every problem ADHD presents really sucks, and I wish we approached teaching meditation as if it were something you actually did have to learn rather than something you're supposed to Do Until You Get It. In the meantime I guess bumping the speed on the recording isn't the worst thing I could be doing.
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gynnnicsworld · 7 months
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For you, what is the season in which you knew that sterek were a real thing? For me it was throughout S3A. Or at least there was something really important going on between them...
I mean, I've been a shipper of them since the first meeting but where I definitely took sterek as my banner was during S3A.
I really love the theme of parallels between Stiles and Jennifer because it basically confirms sterek for us. And there's so much to explore there, I really don't understand why 3A doesn't get enough recognition.
3B is probably everyone's favorite season, I'm pretty sure of that, or a favorite, but 3A needs to be thoroughly analyzed 👁️
The thing is that in 3A there are so many themes that we can explore, like the absurdly obvious parallels between Jennifer and Stiles😩.I'll never really be able to get over the fact that they used the whole Stiles/Derek dynamic with Jennifer/Derek, and that Jennifer seemed to fear Stiles?
Because it's really interesting how Jennifer avoided being around Stiles or prevented Stiles and Derek from being in the same place when she was there.I think there were only two times when Stiles and Derek were in the same room when she was there, the first during Boyd's death and she stayed away, while Stiles went to give his support to Derek and Jennifer was just "shocked"... And the other time was when Derek chose to believe Stiles over her.
I have to organize my thoughts but I really want to talk about this, because I have the energy right now. So sorry if this is a bit messy 😔
Okay, it's pretty much a fact that Jennifer was using this nervous, clumsy demeanor, and she was actually imitating Stiles' entire personality with Derek. But why? Because Jennifer's goal was to bewitch Derek, to have him somehow at her mercy and control, and to do that she had to get under Derek's skin.
And let's get something straight, even if Derek didn't know it and wasn't yet aware of the fact that Stiles is his anchor, Stiles was already under Derek's skin (for whatever reason). So Jennifer had to follow this line, Stiles was already something important to Derek and if she wants to get closer to Derek the best way to do it is to give him something that he is familiar with and something he's already comfortable with and somehow has his guard down.
And what is that? (In case it's not clear; Stiles) she presented herself to Derek with this behavior that he was already familiar with. even the part of the Stls/Drk relationship where they are both always arguing or fighting or Derek is intimidating to Stiles, even that Jennifer imitated. (if you don't believe me you can go see for yourself, from the first meeting between Jennifer and Derek there was this dynamic like the one Drk/stils have)
Okay moving on, the personality theft that Jennifer did to Stiles wasn't enough (haha) so similar parallel events also happened, remember that time where Derek went to Stiles for help? I mean the one in the car, where Derek told Stiles he was going to rip out his throat? Something similar happens between Jennifer and Derek. [Except the throat part, we all know that's something unique and special between Derek and Stiles 😌 that not even a curse can imitate.]
Okay, more things happen, but Jennifer actually already put Derek under some kind of spell, that makes him do whatever she says, like she made him not inform Scott that he was still alive... Why do I mention this? Because this fucking matters, let's say things between them keep moving forward, etc. And Derek is increasingly under her control, or well under her spell, until the day Stiles and Scott tell him that Jennifer is the darach...
And I really want us to think about this, because I don't remember it ever happening that Derek breaks his spell...or well something happens...Which I personally take as the reason why Jennifer didn't want Derek and Stiles to be in the same place while she is, because Stiles is the one who was able to break the influence that she has on Derek.
Let's remember this moment where Stiles asks her where his dad is , and Stiles has his eyes full of tears and revealing sadness, worry and vulnerability. And Jennifer mocks him by saying how the hell would she know that, it's not like she can go out and murder people on her lunch break (or something like that). And she tells Derek that he can't believe them.
Then we have this shot of Derek looking at Scott and Stiles, but it's obvious who Derek has his gaze focused on...And Boom! Right there Derek believes Stiles (and Scott).
And Jennifer stops pretending, etc etc.
For me that was the moment where any influence Jennifer may have had on Derek ended and she knew it.
I really love that season because basically all Jennifer did until the end was play a personality type like Stiles, and Derek fell for that 😩...I can only say that whatever Derek felt for Stiles, it was already tremendously strong.
Well I lost my train of thought, so I'll end here, but please share your thoughts and opinions with me here 🤍 Stiles and Derek really liked each other too much and the fools didn't even realize 😭
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technicallyverycowboy · 4 months
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playboyy: no fags, no femmes
okay, so. playboyy meta. thanks to @lugarn, @chaos0pikachu, and @cryptidafter for talking all this out with me <3
i originally started this post with "not to be that guy," but honestly, i do want to be that guy. because so much of the critique and analysis of playboyy i'm seeing is a) grounded in a lack of knowledge about queer history and aesthetics and b) veers unintentionally but wildly into unexamined homophobia.
so, given i'm going to reference susan sontag's notes on camp several times, i've decided i might as well go full queer studies major about it and copy the list style she uses. (i would highly recommend reading notes on camp. it is academic and somewhat dense, but it's a tame 13 pages)
1. so many people are confidently asserting that playboyy is not camp, regardless of what the creatives behind the show think. to which i have to ask: how are you defining camp? what things are campy to y'all?
2. the personal definition of camp that i arrived at after writing a bunch of papers about it is two-fold: camp is exaggeration, treating things that are serious casually and treating things that are casual seriously. camp is about an aesthetic of inhabiting a role, where something is a little bit off or being something that it's not meant to be.
and to be clear, this is a wildly incomplete and simplified definition, because one of the points of camp is that it's a vibe, not something concrete. It’s also something that shifts over time the relationship between queerness and society changes.
2a. camp often intersects and overlaps with surrealism, like in rocky horror picture show. very often media that is campy exits the mundane world and enters a heightened world of exaggeration and stylization. 
3. so, is playboyy campy? i sure as hell think it is. i think lugarn and chaos0pikachu both made really good points about the campiness of playboyy and it being specifically sexwork camp. (both replies are at that link.)
4. a brief list of things that specifically resonated as campy to me: first throwing american dollars in the pool for soong to catch, zouey's fantasy of feeling up teena in art class, every single element of nant's room (especially the projected images), captain's sports plot that involved zero doing the sport and 100% fucking and fantasy, the softly romantic framing of nuth and phob's sex scenes, jump's pleather tank top & coverall combination, prom wearing assless chaps to a rooftop party at 2:30 in the afternoon, the entire concept of investigating a disappearance via a themed party... i could go on and on, but i said this was brief.
5. i think the actual problem a lot of people have with playboyy is that it doesn't care about straight people.
6. what i mean by that is that playboyy is not a universal story. you could not plug different characters with different sexualities into the plot and preserve the essence of the story. the gayness of the characters is integral to the plot. the sex work is integral to the plot. this is not a world where homophobia doesn't exist and being gay is just like being straight.
7. additionally, these characters are all performing gender in a specifically queer way. they are femmes and fags, they are obvious, they are clockable, they're visible. when nice gays talk about the people who are giving gays a bad reputation and making it harder for everyone (to assimilate into heteropatriarchy) they're talking about playboyy gays.
8. comparing playboyy to only friends is low hanging fruit at this point, but i would argue that the reason boston stood out in that cast and was so viciously punished by the ending is because he was a fag stuck in a nice gays narrative.
9. and this is where the fandom homophobia comes in. so, so many people describe these characters and chaotic and messy, watchable as incoherent and vaguely amusing from a distance, but without real substance. the resulting narrative is often that no one could take their characters or their stories seriously or resonate with them.
10. again, why? why was ray and sand's high and low, blow up fights, calling each other whores relatable but soong and first's miscommunications about what they mean to each other unbelievable chaos? why is white taking black's place an acceptable plot point, but nont pretending to be nant is absurd?
11. most bls do not deal with flamboyance except in limited capacities by comedic side characters. flamboyance is a baseline trait for most of the playboyy characters. so if they feel too much, too loud, too out there, consider asking yourself why they do.
12. to a large extent, i think a lot of the criticism of playboyy is rooted in a bad faith refusal to engage with the show beyond a surface level pearl clutching about the sexual content. the unspoken belief here being that sex scenes are inherently vulgar distractions. they can't be integral to characters or their relationships. they can't be vital pieces of a narrative.
to which i say, there are nine thousand other BLs out there where the kissing is chaste and sex scenes are ~tastefully abstracted shots of shoulder blades and hands. watch those instead.
13. if you decide you want to watch it anyway, take a couple minutes to examine what parts of the show make you uncomfortable and why. and to be clear, i think there’s a lot of value in watching things that make you uncomfortable; media is often one of the best ways to dip into interrogating your emotional responses from a safe distance. 
but don’t use discomfort to dismiss the possibility that there’s meaningful artistic and stylistic choices made to serve a meaningful narrative. take a second to sit with your reactions and ask yourself where it’s coming from. 
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matenr0u · 5 months
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Riku: “Taisetsu na hito - Cherished person”
Throughout the series we’ve seen an escalation of Riku’s enduring journey to find the “strength to protect what matters”. It appears to peak in KHIII with “strength to protect someone precious”, but I’m gonna propose that they could some day take it a step further than that. 
I am once again slamming my tiny fistful of evidence and wish fulfilment on the KH meta table.
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So as we know this line first appears in BBS when Baby Riku meets Terra and says he wants to protect his “daiji na mono”:
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強くなりたいんだ
I want to become strong.
(…)
どうして強くなりたい?
Why do you want to be strong?
大事なものを守れるでしょ
So that I can protect important stuff
友達や みんなを
Like my friend, everyone…
He repeats this in DDD as he fights to save Sora, recalling twice the secret promise he made that day:
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大事なものを守れる力
Power to protect important stuff
Finally this culminates in Riku’s KHIII sacrifice, following up from Mickey suggesting that he’s found the strength to protect someone he cherishes.
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大切な人を守る強さか—
Strength to protect someone precious—
Which is cool. But there’s room for more, if Squisney decide it won’t hurt their profits to go down that path. Or even if they just feel like addressing at any point the absolute non reaction everyone had to being obliterated on the spot and then Riku dying for Sora. With that in mind, I began to wonder if we’ll see just one more callback later down the line. 
I think there are two possible options. First:
一番大切な人
Ichiban taisetsu na hito / Most precious person
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In CoM for example Namine urged Sora to remember his “ichiban taisetsu na hito” — number one most precious person. This one has more of an obvious romantic air I feel. I choose to think Namine was talking about Kairi when she said that but I respect that other SR fans think it’s Riku so I’m including it. If we’re going to hear this one again and in reference to Sora & Riku, we’ll surely get it around the time the necklace theory is inevitably revealed. Either way, it’s already been used in the series, so it’s not a crazy implausible love declaration or anything. It can happen.
I mean, in DDD Riku all but says it when Ven asks:
“Kimi ni totte ichiban taisetsu na mono tte nani?”
“What’s the number one most important thing to you?”
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And of course Riku replies:
“Taisetsu na shinyuu”
“My precious best friend”
As far as I’ve noticed, Riku only calls Sora his shinyuu. It’s cute.
Another possible route they could take is:
愛するもの
Aisuru mono / Beloved person
Which sounds far fetched at a glance, but it is what Terra says to Riku during the bequeathing, in response to Riku’s “daiji na mono”.
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いずれ選ばれし者として この小さな世界を出て——
Some day, you will leave this tiny world as the chosen one—
俺のもとへたどり着くだろう
You will find me.
その時こそ――
That’s the time—
本当の広い世界——
The real wide world—
愛する者を守る力を教えよう
Will teach you the power to protect the people you love.
“Love” being such a diluted word in EN means it doesn’t convey the gravity of it well at all, but “aisuru mono” is one of the strongest ways you can say you love someone in JP. It can be singular or plural, platonic or romantic, and I’ve seen KH’s fandom war cousins cloti/clerith argue over the use of this term— so it highkey wouldn’t surprise me to see this one used by Riku or someone else in reference to his feelings for Sora. Like, in a ‘vague enough to not offend the unwashed dudebros but can also be read as incredibly romantic’ kind of way.
(By the way, I’ve seen “aisuru mono” or “aisuru hito” translated as “dearly beloved” in some places before, too. So naturally I’m gunning hard for this one. Shoot that probably unintentional symbolic double meaning shit straight into my veins.)
For the reasons above, I personally can envision a realistic pipeline of:
Daiji na mono / Important stuff ->
Taisetsu na mono / Precious thing ->
Taisetsu na shinyuu / Precious best friend ->
Taisetsu na hito / Precious person ->
Aisuru mono, Aisuru hito / Beloved person
or
Ichiban taisetsu na hito / Most precious person
Not to say it will happen in any capacity, but there’s space for it. A ton of weird stuff happened around That Moment, and even if that’s just down to KHIII bunk….. the whole ass Fairy Godmother herself has come to set Riku on a solo mission to make his dreams come true.
The setup is right there if they ever want to take that opportunity to clarify the depth and nature of Riku’s feelings for Sora specifically. 
Riku already promised Terra he’d find the strength to protect someone he loves, which he has now found, and in the case of ‘Aisuru’, I think it would round off that callback to the bequeathing perfectly.
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AITA for yelling at my mom because of incense?💭
( emoji so I can recognise my submission and this is a hella long post so be warned)
So I (16F) really hate smoke. And I mean beyond the regular hate, I mean like the moment I smell smoke I instantly become very, very angry. I'm not sure why exactly, I suspect it might be because I'm on the autism spectrum but I haven't been officially diagnosed so take this with a grain of salt. Also just to clarify, I have no lung issues which would cause me to be extra effected by smoke, it's almost entirely psychological.
My mom (50F) got into this whole spiritual circle stuff about a year ago and does meditation thingies. Involves a lot of rituals, crystals and incense. Not entirely sure the exact reason why but the important thing is this means she is lighting incense almost everyday. As a result, on most days the house smells like smoke. I have told her quite a few times to ventilate properly if she's going to use it but I feel like every time I enter the main room of the house it smells like smoke. However I can manage this by simply shutting my door to avoid getting a lungful of smoke. No, the thing that pisses me off are her "cleansing sessions." This is where she goes through the house waving an incense stick everywhere to "purify the bad spirits." This means I have absolutely nowhere in the house to escape from the smoke and often get forced outside to escape. I have tolerated these "cleansing sessions" a few times but on the most recent one, it happened to be raining extremely heavily. This meant that I was stuck. In a house FILLED with the smell of smoke.
I tried to keep myself calm for a while by ventilating the smoke from under a blanket but even then I could still smell it and it made me raging mad. So I then proceeded to stomp up to my mom and yelled at her. I said some very nasty things which I'm not proud of saying. They were very personal insults mostly pertaining to how her beliefs were bullshit and about her insecurities. We had a shouting match over it which ended in her telling me to go back to my room.
Why I think I could be the asshole here is because:
A. I could have more clearly stated beforehand that I wanted her to stop cleansing my room or at the very least she needs to turn the aircon on when she burns incense.
B. She didn't really deserve the things I said to her. She's a sensitive person and I know it probably deeply hurt her even if she didn't act like it in the moment.
C. I didn't mention it earlier but I have a brother (17M) who has athsma. He has never had any problem breathing or any complaints about my mom burning incense. If anyone would be affected by this the most it would be him and yet he doesn't care. So I feel like I just really overreacted.
Why I think I might not be the asshole here is because:
A. I have asked her before that she ventilate the house properly when she does her meditations and yet every time I can smell it. Sometimes she wont even open the windows so I have to do it myself.
B. She knows how much I dislike the smell of smoke. I have said multiple times how I hate it and every time I have smelt it in the house I've been very obviously annoyed. There was even once incident where our neighbours were having a bonfire and I literally could not sleep in my room because I could smell smoke and had to sleep on the couch. Every time she's done one of these "spiritual cleansings" I have also made it abundantly clear how much I hate this but she doesn't seem to care because it usually forces me outside.
C. As before mentioned, my brother has athsma. While it may not seem like it bothers him I don't know what the long term consequences may be for his lungs. And for my lungs too! Like, I'm not an expert but I don't think regularly breathing in smoke is very good for you. She argues it's "real natural smoke" so it's fine and I told her she should try breathing near a wildfire to see how she liked "real natural smoke."
Anyways, with all these facts considered, random strangers on the internet, AITA?
What are these acronyms?
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goldenheart-supremacy · 9 months
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So I know Ambrosius not believing Ballister several times about Nimona is crucial to the overall plot...
But imagine the possibilities if Ambrosius DID switch sides sooner...
This is gonna be a long one...
Like, as they were crashing and breaking out of the institute Ambrosius ended up being in the way, slammed into, then hauled along for the ride...
Nimona lands, like she did. Ballister slides in lamely next to her, like he did.
"Something, something, something... We win." *Cue explosions* "Metal."
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Ballister comes to for a moment, dazedly looking around. Instead of a rock knocking him unconscious though, it's Ambrosius landing on him. Remember, he's wearing armor. Armors are hard and with Ambrosius's added body weight, it's heavy.
Nimona's blinking in surprise and like "Oh. So, now he's here too... Now, should I kill him or... Ugh, right, he's the boss. Okay. Great, now I gotta drag them both."
The scene with Ballister coming to plays out pretty much the same way. Finally, when Ballister relents and goes with the shark handshake, Nimona added...
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"So, should we kill your Nemesis or do we use him like some kind of hostage?"
"My Nemesis... Him... What? Who? Wait, hostage?!"
Nimona revealed a tied up Ambrosius and still unconscious at the other side of the room. Ballister freaks out for a moment because first, is he dead?!
"I mean, he could be? Just say the word, boss."
"NO! That's a real, BIG NO!"
Of course their arguing and Ballister's yelling wakes Ambrosius up and he muffled screaming, through a gag, alerted Ballister that's he's conscious now. Also, Ballister blushing because he remembers some of their bed room activities and Nimona could kinda tell and kinda smacks Ballister for it.
"Ew, even I can tell what you're thinking. Is this really the time?"
Ballister glares at her before going about trying to calm Ambrosius down.
Of course, Ambrosius starts with the freaking out, then the accusations, even while Ballister's trying to explain things, Ambrosius is still having a hard time believing him cause he literally saw the Queen murdered in front of him but of course, the Director isn't here to manipulate him.
So, Ballister eventually manages to reason with him with a "You know me, you know I love her like a mother. You know I LOVE YOU, and I hope... You still love me? Even if you didn't, you know me enough and you know I'm not a murderer." and Ballister hits him with the big ol' eyes and Ambrosius is blushing and staring at him speechless because GREAT GREAT GRANDMOTHER Ambrosius misses those eyes, and basically, every inch of Ballister. AND OF FUCKING COURSE he still LOVED BALLISTER.
Meanwhile, Nimona is just watching them while eating tacos, and her expressions is clearly one that translate to "I know what you are, I know what you are. Homosexual. Gay. Gay. Omg, there's a rainbow here without the rain and sunshine..." Then she notes Ambrosius armor shining like the sun even while indoors and how Ballister always looks like wants to cry, so rain. "Okay, never mind."
Finally, Ambrosius goes "Okay, sure, let's do... Whatever it is you wanna do."
So, a team of trio is unofficially, officially formed and Nimona is already aware of how much of a third wheel she's gonna be.
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I got more. Might make a part 2 if anyone's interested lmao.
[edit] Part 2
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