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firegirl888101 · 8 months

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how would the harbingers react to a reader who's good at drawing? like, they like to draw the harbingers or other things

Good at drawing?

I'm shit at drawing so I'm not really sure what to say, that's why I didn't reply to this for awhile. But, I eventually got a couple things when my friend was sketching some stuff in front of me.

Sorry that the current Insatiable Madness chapter is taking so long, I've been studying a lot these past couple of days.

I also got another ask where it asked about Halloween. I don't really celebrate Halloween, because I never grew up with it. I've always been too shy to trick-or-treat and I didn't have many friends (and still don't) who'd want to go with me. Quite sad actually, but it's alright. I don't think I missed out on much.

Is anyone expecting me to make a Halloween special? I don't mind doing it, but I'll need inspiration as I wouldn't know where to start 💀

Actually, the more I think about it, I do have one fun idea. (Harbingers going trick-or-treating??? Halloween party if that even exists? Idk, I'll have to do some research.)

|You can take this with Yandere and without - some will probably lean towards yan though.|

So, to begin with:

Pierro wouldn't be too bothered. I feel if Y/N had a skill they were confident in, and wanted to show it, he'd let his curiousity get the better of him and check it out. But, if it's something like drawing he'll probably leave a comment then leave. Whether it's positive or negative, you be the judge. This man is like a slate slab. No personality I'm sorry 😭😭 (When I see more of his character, maybe I'll like him more?)

If you were to draw this man, he'd be humbled. A Grandpa who received his very first present from his grandchild. Would definitely frame the damn thing in his office (which originally was your parent's) he'd put it on the desk. It's his office now, don't argue for it back.

Capitano would show interest. Not too much since he's the main captain of the Fatui, but still interested. If he's bored, or deems the 'fort' (the house) safe, he'll sit down with you and watch what you're doing. Occasionally asking you if he could doodle with you - but I think that would be very rare. His main objective in his mind is guarding you when your own is low whilst you're having fun, doodling or drawing something.

Would 100% deny the picture of him at first. He'd think, that looks like me, but it can't be. Yes, it's him, you'd reassure. Eventually he does take it and folds it in his coat. After that, he'd probably leave the room in embarrassment. Since then on, he'd definitely keep all drawings you've made of him in his pocket. There's too many? Let's put it in the second pocket. That's full too? Looks like he's buying a new coat. Oh? There's room in his military coat he hasn't worn in two years? That'll do just nicely.

Dottore would be intrigued if he saw you practice anatomy - or if you drew more of a gorey scene. I think he'd be even more interested if you liked to draw the human body with extra things (such as arms, legs, eyes or even got rid of a few), and question you on your design choices and if it already exists somewhere. (He's not fooling you, he's obviously taking inspirations for a new experiment). If he didn't know, or wasn't good, he'd probably ask for tips on how to sketch ideas like yours. He reassures you it's not for any experimentation but once again, he's not fooling you at all.

If you were to draw him he'd treat it like glass. Nobody has ever given him a sketch before - bonus points if you draw him injured whilst you're angry with him. He'd treat it as if you drew him with love, and not as if you'd stab him in the heart if you ever got the chance. What do you mean he shouldn't like it this much? It's a work of art! He'd be very quick to correct the drawing if you got anything wrong. Who knows what this man has in his body at this point.

Columbina would join you in your drawing activities. Maybe add some glitter if you have any. The second you complain about cleaning up, however, she has somehow disappeared and has become very forgetful about the events upstairs. 'How curious!~' She would hum to herself with her usual smile. Is definitely the type to ask if you could draw her. Who are you to refuse? Especially when she gives you that look of daunt hope and kindness which makes you drop your pen in fear. Before you can give her an answer, you've already picked up your pencil and began to sketch her beautiful headpiece.

When Columbina receives her multiple sketches, she's overjoyed. Oh, look how you drew this part! How you drew her clothes! She's quick to kiss you on the cheek as a thank you and runs off somewhere. Huh, you feel like you've just been used.

Arlecchino will roll her eyes at first. She's seen many children in the hearth draw for her. Her initial thoughts were vague, she didn't really see much of your hobby. That was until she actually saw what you were drawing. She would stare as you worked, your pencil delicately brushing against the paper you most likely bought the other day. It soon will become a habit to watch you work, becoming a therapeutic source for her. She sometimes questions why you're drawing... certain things, but she wouldn't actually stop your creative mind from working.

Handing Arlecchino the drawing you drew of her would make her blood rise to her cheeks slightly. Sure, she's received a lot of gifts in this sense before. But from you? What an honour! She'll accept it with a soft smile she'd usually show the kids, and pat your head treating you like one. Little do you know she's trying so hard to control her cute agression response by not tearing the paper.

Pulcinella would react very similarly to Pierro. However, he'd have more experience with complimenting and encouraging 'a child' in a hobby they're having fun with. If he saw your skill, he'd probably compliment it whole-heartedly with a chuffed smile. Massaging his mustache like some aristocrat, in the 1940s... Anyway, he'd be very pleased when he watches you draw more and more. He's happy that you're spending your time doing something you like under the tense situation his coworkers (and him, but he doesn't like to admit it) have brought upon you.

I do not see you drawing this man at all. He's a short, dobby, old, looking as man. I don't see him as the type to ask either, at all. He's minding his own business in your house and plans to keep it that way until the situation is resolved.

Scaramouche really doesn't care. We've all got our own likes and dislikes, but he's not bothered about yours. Will most likely purposefully pass by you working on a piece and insult it just to get attention. He'd never actually mean it though - he just never tells you that important fact. As time progresses he'll sneak into your room just to look at more sketches or finished drawings you've done, and assess your progress from each year if you've been practicing for a long time-period.

Now, here's where things get interesting. If you were to draw him and never show it to him, said puppet finding it for himself in one of your drawers, he'd first feel angry. Why wouldn't you show him this? It's of him! ...But then he'd quickly realise it's because of the way he treated you when you were working (oops). If you actually handed it to him and let him keep it, he'd be delighted. You actually drew him? He didn't even have to manipu-- he means 'ask' you to draw him? This is a good step forward to where he wants to be in your heart.

Sandrone would be delighted to know that she's finally found a use for you in her head. She never thought that purposefully walking past you one evening would lead to her shuffling through all the sketches and designs you've done with awe. Where did you get this idea from? How can she recreate it? Would you be happier and more devoted to her if she were to make your dreams true? She digresses. Watching your creative little mind draw your ideas to life inspires her also, and makes her want to recruit you as a special exception to the 'no non-artificial beings' allowed in her workshop. Thinking of all the monstrosities you could design with her help sends pleasurable shivers up her spine.

Drawing her, however? This was rather unprecedented. Out of all the things-- no, people you could have drawn... and you decide on her? And ooh! You even drew her slave she likes to travel around on, how thoughtful, you're already expressing your adoration for her works! Trust me, don't draw her. You'll give her daydreams that will never happen.

Signora, like most of the harbingers, wouldn't care at first. She hates your house and hates your world, why in Teyvat's name would she be interested in what you're doing? That's what she used to think, until her arrogant slick eyes caught sight of what exactly you were drawing. In my opinion, there's only a couple things that would interest Signora. Drawing dresses, if you were interested in fashion designing, would definitely be the main one. Viewing your designs after you finished them would soon become a small hobby for her, and soon, she'd eventually ask you to draw her in one of your designs.

You'd say yes, of course. An excuse to draw a drop-dead gorgeous woman in one of your designs for free? No way you were going to pass this opportunity! For her hard work in modeling, you'd definitely pay back twice and give her a drawing of her in her harbinger uniform too - which I think would flatter her a bit too much.

Pantalone wouldn't care, and would never become interested. He's a very rich and successful banker, not any ordinary man. As soon as he sees you drawing somewhere in the house, he'll shrug and go the opposite way. He knows what it's like to be interrupted through a thoughtful process, and he doesn't feel like getting an earful from you if he interrupts it. What he does think about, however, is if you're making money from it. Maybe an online business. He asks, and receives a very disappointing answer. No? What do you mean no? These are good, he'd pay for a portrait! Well, if Mora was a usable currency here. Ugh, the thought of being a poor man in this world makes him disgusted.

Drawing him would result in lots of praise. He'd be very happy you used your own time to draw him. He didn't even have to pay for it, it was gift! You even said so yourself. Immediately taken from your hands and framed somewhere. You can't seem to find the drawing though... Pantalone insists it's still in the house, but no matter where you look you just can't find it! Oh well, it's probably better you didn't know where it went. (You would have never been able to find it, he hid the location so well after all.) Pantalone told you he'd give something back to you as a thank you, but you're not holding him to his word.

Tartaglia would be interested the second he sees you doing something he hasn't seen you do before. That looks interesting, let him give drawing a try! He'd boast how his siblings love his drawings he creates, but you knew he was lying to set a cheery mood. Your understanding was backed when you actually saw his 'Amazing Drawing'... It was embarrassing to say the least. He would heed all your little tips and eventually get good at drawing from your guidance! I can see him as the type to use these skills later for his siblings, and as the type to continue drawing even if you begin to get bored of it... He's skilled with his fingers after all-- okay I'm sorry I'm done.

Drawing him can go one in two ways. I see him as someone who will whine about being drawn. He'll say: 'Have you drawn me yet?' in one of the most annoying voices he cna muster. He knows and understands you find it annoying when he asks you to draw him, so he's found a loophole. Just keep asking questions related to it until you get the hint! ...You got the hint weeks ago, but you're refusing to do it. Well, you're refusing to show him your drawings you've already finished and hid out of sight. Showing him these drawings would make him really happy! Would fold his favourite and carry it around with him everywhere like some of the other harbingers. His next commission he's planned to ask you is of a drawing of Capitano. You eagerly declined, not wishing to impose on the Captain's privacy.

#genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #fatui harbingers #yandere harbingers #genshin #pierro #capitano #il dottore #columbina #arlecchino #pulcinella #scaramouche #sandrone #la signora #pantalone #tartaglia #childe #fatui #genshin fatui

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one-green-frog · 9 months

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hii I was wondering if you could write a miles morales ( either one) x male reader where the two are in a relationship, and have been for a year and them going through the motions of celebrating their one year anniversary cus it’s both each other’s longest relationship so it’s just really sappy and such lovey dovey they end up crying because oh my days how did they get so lucky

Miles x m!Reader

Miles was... well, he was perfect. Ever since your started dating him, exactly one year ago, your life was just better. The sun seemed to shine more brightly, even on rainy days, with miles by your side every day turned into a great one, and if it wasn't, Miles made it bearable.

Now here you are, making your way over to him, with a boquet of flowers in one hand and in the other hand, yoiu held a small crochet animal. You recently picked up the hobby and while your little crochet cat had a few flaws here and there you were still proud of how it turned out. Miles was surely going to like it, at least you're 99% sure he would. There's always that lingering feeling that you would do something wrong, anything, which would make him freak out and break up with you. But putting those negative thoughts aside, you smiled as you saw Miles excitedly looking out his window, getting embarassed when you caught him looking

As you walk up the steps, the door suddenly opened, Miles now leaning on the door frame, looking at you with the brightest smile, you might need to buy sunglasses. After a short exchange, he comes rushing to you, pulling you into a tight hug, that you gladly reciprocate, being mindful of the flowers you brought him. He invited you in, dragging you in to be exact, his parents were out of town, so you had the whole house for yourself. As the everloving, amazing boyfriends that he is, he cooked for you and while it couldn't live up to Mama Rio's dishes, it was still tasty, not to mention that he really put a lot of effort inot it. As the day went on, you two cuddled up on the couch to watch some movies, drinks and snacks on the small table in front of you.

You turned to him, eyes full of adoration, wondering how you got so lucky. Never in a million years would you have thought, that you deserved someone so nice, and gentle and patiant and just... perfect as Miles. Tears slowly started to form in your eyes at the thought of him, just as he turned to look at you.

"everything alright?" Miles akesd, the movie now long forgotten

"Just thinking about how precious you are" you answered wiping the tears from your eyes.

Now it was his turn to tear up. Miles was so grateful that you stayed with him, even if he had to cancel some dates due to some... emergencies. He scooted closer to you, pulling you into a hug and giving you a kiss on your forehead.

"You're the precious one for putting up with me. Really, I'm so grateful you stayed with me, even if there were some mishaps". That made you giggle "I love you so much and I'm so grateful that i can call you my boyfriends" He sniffled, raising his hand and cupping your cheeks before swiping away the tears rolling down your cheek. "I love you too, with all my heart" you said in response. You cuddled closer to him, his warmth filling you with comfort.

As the day turned into night, with the two of you basically on top of each other, falling asleep after your little confession and quite emotional moment, Miles' parents unfortunately came home. This meant the end of your wonderful anniversary. Miles, ever the gentlemen, walked you home, even if you insisted that you could do so alone, the walk wasn't that long and the sidewalk was light rather well, but a few extra minutes with your boyfriend wouldn't hurt.

Finally at home you turned towards him to give him one final kiss, before turning around and walking inside your own home. You practically ran to your room, jumping in your bed. Feet kicking in the air as you screamed into your pillow. This was the best day ever

so i finally got aaround and pushed myself to write something :D While I'm not the greatest with the whole crying thing (blame the autism) i tried my best. Also pls feel free to tell me about any spelling mistakes i made, i really don't mind, it only helps me

Reblogs are appreciated!!!

#male reader #x male reader #spiderverse x male reader #miles morales #miles morales x male reader #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you

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pickles4nickles · 5 months

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Pickles Played Persona 5 Tactica and Has Some Words

I finally finished Tactica and its DLC sans some challenge stuff and I do wanna do some cleanup, but I thought I'd write a review for it.

It's long (like, 3k words long) and there's spoilers and overall... it's an Okay(tm) game, but... here, just lemme talk about it a bunch:

Alright, I'm not gonna mince words.

Persona 5 Tactica is not a game I can reccomend to anyone.

But is it a bad game?

Well, no.

But I have no idea who it's for.

Maybe it's for people who want more of the P5 characters? Not exactly? Both stories' focal points are on new characters and the Phantom Thieves just kinda happen to be there. There are some nice interactions, but this isn't a story about the PTs like Strikers.

Is it for people who like tactics but aren't really into P5? Well... it might be the other way around, actually? It's an okay tactics game with persona elements, but both parts of that are watered down when compared to base game persona and other tactics games like XCOM.

With that being said, lemme just ramble about what I thought about the story and gameplay.

THE STORY

The best way I can sum up my feelings about Tactica are "the story was told well, but I'm not sure if I liked it." This is a game that's less about the Phantom Thieves and more about Toshiro and Erina and focuses around the internal conflict of rebellion versus self-preservation.

Toshiro is probably why I'm neutral towards the game At Best. Erina grew on me but Toshiro...

Ehh.

At the beginning of the game, he's a big wimp and he's constantly telling the PTs and Erina that they have to be careful. From a theming standpoint, Toshiro's behavior makes perfect sense.

But from the petty bitch inside of me, this is infuriating because not only do YOU know that this is the Phantom Thieves that have taken down Shido (and also Yaldaboth), but TOSHIRO knows it as well and he's being Like This.

Like, he kinda sucks in the beginning and does so for the first two acts, understandably, but by the third act, when The Big Persona Moments happen, my opinion of him just kinda stayed the same. They swayed in a different direction, but... still on the negative side of the spectrum.

The reveal of Erina as Toshiro's Persona... makes sense. She's Toshiro's spirit(?) of rebellion and is based off of his classmate that once inspired him to stand up for himself and others.

Did I like this revelation?

Hell no, I was punching my thigh and screaming in voice call "No fucking way, Toshiro's so lame, though" as loud as I could without upsetting my parents in the other rooms.

From this point on, Toshiro now has the resolve to do what's right, even if it's scary... but he comes off as a little too strong in my opinion. I kinda have the same feelings about Zenkichi once he gets his persona in Strikers. In the beginning they feel like a new character meant to balance out the insanity that is how the metaverse is, but once they get their persona, they're full on inundated in the anime stand battles and they're a little too extra about it.

Having two full acts of "hey guys maybe we shouldn't help the hat people out of hat people slavery," pivoting into "WITNESS OUR POWER AS ONE" has the same vibes as a relative who's not really an asshole, but one that you've been trying to convince for years that economic inflation is the reason why our generation can't live comfortably, and once they finally understand, they come off a little bit too strong and righteous about it that you're not sure they're genuine or if this is a "he's a little confused, but he's got the spirit" situation.

And then god happens.

In persona games, I usually don't fully understand how or why the god-being is doing all of this, but I especially can't wrap my head around how they work in Tactica. It's mostly because Toshiro's metaverse is kind of a Silent Hill kinda deal where it's a mental torture labyrinth for him personally, as opposed to Mementos, which is naturally the collective unconscious, connecting everyone's minds and hearts together.

The jump from "I'm going to bully this one guy in particular" to "now EVERYONE will be as lame as Toshiro" is lost on me. Maybe politics?

It's... it's fine, there's no reason to lose sleep over it.

The ending of the story is nice and reasonable, though. It sorta redeems Toshiro for me. It's one thing to yell in your own metaverse hellscape how you're going to do the right thing, but once he's back in the real world, he actually stands up to his dad and fiancé and steps down from his political position to build it back up from scratch, but better.

And, yeah! I respect that.

That being said, though, the game isn't devoid of new Phantom Thief interactions. There's some good ones like Futaba "I don't kinkshame" Sakura, casually bi Joker as seen in that one "who would you marry" bit, and a guys only sidequest in which they think they're looking for Toshiro's porn stash (yeah, I know) (it's not). I wouldn't say it's crumbs, but you're not getting the whole loaf that you'd get from, say, Mementos Mission or Strikers.

The story also does this thing where the Phantom Thieves can relate with Toshiro's issues, but something about it feels... off.

Toshiro's in an arranged marriage with Marie for political reasons! Just like Haru! His fiancé sees him as a pushover! Kinda like Makoto! His mom died when he was young and he blames himself for it! Wow, Yusuke and DEFINITELY Futaba can relate to that!! Eri, the real person that Erina is based on, had to transfer schools because she was accused of a crime! Gee, that SURE sounds familiar-

Part of me thinks I'm being a little too unfair on the game for creating parallels like this because Strikers also kinda did this. But in Strikers, the PTs being able to connect with the jail rulers was integral to the plot. Here, it's just kind of a wink wink nudge nudge kinda thing.

And my knee-jerk reaction to that is a small "I get it, shut uuuup."

Again, and overall because I think that rounds out what I have to say about the story, P5 Tactica's main story isn't bad. It's told well, but I'm not necessarily the biggest fan of it.

GAMEPLAY

I've only played Strikers and I don't think I've played a true tactics game, so I don't know how much weight my opinions hold.

So um.

I dunno, the gameplay was fine.

The pacing is weird because it's kind of a visual novel first, and a tactics game in-between, but I got used to that after a bit.

It's a really simple tactics game and... yeah things don't get too complex outside of sometimes there are buttons that'll open doors or raise and lower platforms, sometimes height matters, but the mechanics don't get too crazy outside of certain boss battles.

The game revolves around downing enemies to get Once More's so you can either encase the enemy in a triangle formed by your units to initiate an All-out Attack or you can chain together Once More's to extend your unit's range and move them across the map. This mechanic took a bit for me to understand fully, but I never really got tired of doing it.

Boss battles were kind of hit or miss in this game. The fights with Toshiro's Dad and Salmael I enjoyed as they were kinda formatted as "here's a weird stage, go figure out what to do." However, Marie and *checks notes* "the scary Eri Natsuhara that Shadow Toshiro made" I didn't care for as much since they changed the game from "your decisions on where to move your units are key for this" to "you need to do exactly as we say." Which always kinda sucks, y'know?

Character selection is also kind of a weird thing in this, too. It doesn't seem like it matters who you take with you into missions, which... feels weird to me considering past Persona games. The elements have all been kinda smooshed down into less of a weakness thing, but just a special move that can hinder movement, do damage over time, or change enemy placement entirely, but which type of special you bring along doesn't seem to be as crucial as other Persona games. Each character has a slightly different attack, gun spread, and movement limit, but it wasn't anything drastic that I noticed apart from Haru (she is very slow but apparently hits like a truck) and possibly Morgana (his attack was very weak for me, but I'm not sure if that's because I didn't have him kitted out properly or that's intended).

I played the game almost entirely with Joker and Ann, while swapping between Erina and Ryuji for the last slot and I didn't run into any problems.

The last stretch of the game is... a strange one gameplay wise. Toshiro becomes a party member except... he's Different(tm). He doesn't get a skill tree, is a permanent fourth party member, and can initiate All-Out Attacks, but isn't a part of the triangle that forms it. He does have a gun, but it's in the form of a 0SP attack that Ernesto/Erina can use... that also happens to ignore walls entirely. And he also gets Almighty attacks, which kinda just do big number damage for way more SP.

It's hard to say if the game did a good job scaling the level difficulties to incorporate a fourth party member as staying on top of your persona fusing, weapons, and the skill tree can kind of make the game a breeze. I also played on the normal difficulty, so maybe in harder difficulties, Toshiro becomes more of a necessity than a party member that breaks the game.

My only big gripe with the game is just... the weirdness of the undo button. I don't know how it is in regular tactics games, but the undo in this game doesn't work on a "clear the last action this unit did" basis, but on a turn basis. If you happen to screw up on turn one, unit one, you have to back out COMPLETELY to the mission start screen, which is hella annoying especially if you're playing on the Switch because of the load times.

"But Pickles, what about the DLC? Surely you have just as many thoughts about it?"

Y'know?

I actually don't.

I liked Repaint Your Heart a lot. Again, it's less a story about the Royal Trio and more about Guernica, but it's closer to the traditional Persona 5 story format where they're changing someone's heart. This story also had much higher emotional... fidelity? I guess you could put it?

Guernica needed to remember her main inspirations for creating art - being abandoned and homeless and her big sister dying because of it and she embraces that anger against society into art that inspires hope in people less fortunate. While being groomed into a political pawn from basically birth and then, later in life, being thrown into your own mental hellscape sucks, in terms of emotional weight, Toshiro's story feels like a feather compared to Guernica's.

Also her design is just cool and the paint aesthetic is definitely more my speed.

In terms of Royal Trio content, I think this was the best case scenario we could expect from Atlus.

Emphasis on "from Atlus."

Yeah, we didn't get Black Mask Akechi, but there are MORE THAN ENOUGH moments where he lets the facade slip. His default spell is Megidola, but his skill tree lets him have both Light AND Dark spells. He'll cuss at you if you hit an enemy into him. I don't know what he's doing viscerally screaming half the time he summons Robin Hood.

Sumi. Is also there.

She is fine.

Guernica's connection to the thieves is also written in the same way as Toshiro is, in that it's a little shoehorned in and doesn't add to the story beyond that. After finding out that Luca is Guernica's sister that died, Sumi definitely feels motivated and inspired to help her out, but Akechi also being an abandoned child, scorned by society, and angry at the world because of it is never touched upon. This is probably for spoiler reasons, but... still.

Because this is a story that takes place during Sae's Palace in the main game, they all have to have amnesia about it in the end. Which, understandable, and at least no one in the trio had extensive character development but...

*clenches fist*

Man,

Having tackled this after the main game, I enjoyed the gameplay a lot! It's basically P5 Tactica but with Splatoon mixed in. When a unit is on a tile painted the opposite color for them, they can be instantly knocked down and combo'd on, which adds a whole extra layer of complexity to the game. I wish there were a few more levels to play, but the length of the DLC never overstays its welcome.

Hokay.

If you made it this far, congrats! You reached the end. And my tl;dr section.

I think that's just about it on what I cohesively have to say about P5 Tactica. This isn't a terrible game by any means, but I don't know if the audience it's intended for actually exists. It has a just okay story and just okay mechanics, but the DLC has a more than okay story and the core mechanics are given a fresh coat of paint (yeah, boo, I know) that makes the game more interesting. I would not go paying $80 USD to experience the DLC alone, though.

Thank you for reading my review if you made it all the way to the end! P5 stuff (well, mostly Akeshu) has been my muse these past few years and playing a game that was "just okay but why did they..." got into my brain real bad, so I wanted to write some stuff out.

I'll close this out with some bullet points of thoughts that I couldn't really cohesively fit into my review:

I really really liked how they got little costumes for the old timey Japan kingdom and I was hoping we'd get more of that and every kingdom was based on a new theme... but we only got three kingdoms and the last one before "Smithy's Forge from Super Mario RPG" was............ School.

SATANAEL'S BACK IN TIME FOR CHRISTMAS (BUT ONLY POST-GAME)

Erina also being Ernesto thing is mostly weird to me because she's still her own entity but also not???? The possible genderfluid connotations are cool though.

There's a quest where Haru asks Yusuke how to be fast. Yusuke tells her she has to "Become a Black Hole." I do not know what this means.

After the quest, Haru says that even though the axe slows her down, she's very partial to it as her father didn't like her chopping wood as a kid, but she'd sneak out and do it anyway. She later found out that her dad knew she was doing this, but decided not to scold her for it. She took this as a sign of kindness from her father and that's why the axe is so special to her. I do not know what this means as Haru's father was a horrible capitalist who basically tried to marry her off in pursuit of power.

The weapon designs in this game are generally kind of silly, but I appreciate that they exist in the game. There's a chompy gun with teeth that Joker gets and I really like it :)

God the Lyn tracks from the DLC FUCK

...what

Futaba says "sus" at one point in the end

#persona 5 tactica #p5t #Y'ALL ASKED FOR THE HOT TEA #THIS IS AS REASONABLY SCALDING I COULD MAKE IT #oh fug I almost forgot #thank you to all the friendos who looked through this for me before I posted it!!

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wild-moss-art · 9 months

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hi moss! I hope you are having a good day!! I was wondering if you were willing to share how you convinced a doctor to yeet the uterus :O are you scared about having a major surgery? (I am, as always, having The Thoughts.)

<3 I hope you're having a good day too! It is a long story and kind of personal but I'm happy to share bc I know that it's really difficult to find info on, and if anyone has questions you can feel free to dm or send an ask. Gonna put the story under the cut.

First of all, I live in america and this will all sound very american lol.

In the interest of not burying the lede, my working theory is that I have endometriosis or adenomyosis; these are notoriously difficult to diagnose. Endometriosis is only diagnosable through a laparoscopic surgery and adenomyosis is literally only diagnosable through getting a hysterectomy and having the tissue biopsied. If you don't want a hysterectomy, you can't get an official diagnosis.

Now to the backstory. I think my medical history and experience advocating for myself medically had the most impact on being approved for this procedure.

I have been on hormonal birth control since I was about 13 or 14 practically as soon as I hit puberty I had debilitating periods. I was missing a lot of school and obviously this didn't look good for my parents, so I was put on the pill, and later when I was older I switched to IUDs. The birth control basically put a bandaid on the problem, and the IUD eliminated my period altogether.

Near the beginning of this year, I started to have a lot of pelvic pain that I initially thought was a UTI. I went to the doctor who kept telling me I didn't have the bacteria for a UTI, and basically sent me home with some antibiotics anyway, which didn't help. They did not test for any other problems. I ended up switching doctors due to insurance purposes, but was also put off by the care I'd received.

When I went to the next doctor, they were actually willing to run tests. This doctor and every other doctor I've seen since initially insisted I must have an STD. A panel was run, and I was fully clean for STDs. I was referred to a urogynecology specialist, as my main symptoms at this point were pain(which they do not care about- didnt even put it in my file) and difficulty urinating(this symptom I believe is the only reason I was able to get a referral to a specialist).

While I was waiting for my urogynecology appointment(they were pretty booked out), the pain got worse, like a lot worse. I was also having more and more hormonal symptoms like heavy acne. I was able to move my appointment up but ended up going to the ER. At the ER, I posted about my experience which I can link if you'd like but I'll include the relevant info. The doctor hadn't looked at my age on the file and initially DENIED testing because I was "too young". He came back later and approved it, because he actually looked at my fucking file. From this point on I've been livid and ready to fistfight every doctor Ive seen.

I was at the ER for like 10 hours and got a CT scan, which showed all the inflammation in my uterus and little in my bladder, which was when I began to realize that the bladder issue was just a symptom and not the problem. The original doctor was off duty toward the end of my visit, and the new doctor came in for briefing when she mentioned they needed to run an STD panel. I told her I'd had one about a week ago that was fully negative. She said "I need to go talk to my supervisor."

Ultimately, I was released from the ER with a prescription for extra strength ibuprofen and a referral to a gynecologist. They said my IUD was stabbing me internally, and needed to come out. They did not take it out at the ER.

At this point, it was time for my urogynecology appointment. At the appointment, I told them about my ER visit and asked if they could take my IUD out. They said they didn't really do that there, but after I showed them my CT scan results, they did it anyway. I felt a lot better, immediately. They were helpful and awesome, but said that they mostly treat bladder problems, which was clearly not what I had.

I didnt feel fully better though, because hormonal birth control keeps endometriosis and adenomyosis symptoms and pain at bay. The pain has gotten gradually worse, but it's not longer quite as sharp and stabbing. I've been doing a lot of research about these conditions thanks to a helpful tumblr mutual, and I believe I have adenomysis. I'm not sure whether I have endometriosis.

I followed up on the gynecology referral from the er; I am really happy with this clinic so far. They are the ones that offered the hysterectomy. In my initial appointment, I mentioned that I was not on birth control and wanted to be sterilized. They asked if I wanted birth control in the meantime. I said no(I believe this helped).

(as an aside. Another reason I believe I was offered what I was is that I am married. When I listed my partner as an emergency contact, they specifically mentioned that I did not take his last name. I believe this says something about our relationship to doctors. I know often they will ask for the husband's permission in this scenario; however, they did not even bring him up beyond the last name thing.)

When I met with the doctor for a tubal ligation consult, we talked a bit about the procedure and what other symptoms I was having. I also got an ultrasound that showed inflammation in my uterus(as well as a medium sized cyst on my ovary. lmao). He said the tubal ligation would not help my other symptoms. When I mentioned my CT scan, he actually left to go look at it, returned and immediately asked if I wanted kids. When I said no, he told me he could give me a hysterectomy.

We went over some details; just a hysterectomy is a pretty non invasive procedure and doesn't even require an incision. He mentioned that it may or may not fix the whole problem(it would fix adenomyosis which only affects the uterus, not endometriosis which affects other organs) but that it's pretty complicated to remove the ovaries because it's a more invasive procedure and basically I'd have to be on hormones to simulate menopause for a really long time(I'm only 27). So that is an option, but it's better to just see if the hysterectomy fixes my problems.

The surgery is in 10 days from now and I have my intake consult on tuesday. I plan to update cause again, I know not a lot of people talk about these experiences and it would have really helped me to have known more going in. I really cant wait, I've basically been bedridden, cant exercise, can't stand for long periods of time, not much at all. I'm lucky my livelihood is sitting on my couch drawing.

Finally, I believe that it is possible that they wanted to sterilize me due to my mental health history. I am in ongoing treatment for my mental health, and have particular diagnoses that I do not disclose publicly. You can message me if you'd like to know this information.

#ty for the ask <3 #im sorry this is so long lmao. it has been a lot #I do feel all this is relevant though. I don't think I could have just rolled up to my general doctor's office and asked for a hysterectomy #nor do I think I could have rolled up to the gynecologists office and asked for one without the history #im not sure how to tag this so that people could find it if they need to lmk if anyone has suggestions #moss is sick as in cool but also as in sick

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 1 year

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By: Jane A.

Published: Jun 3, 2023

I am speaking as the parent of a young woman who declared a transgender identity completely out of the blue at the age of 17. So many parents feel they cannot speak out for fear of harming the relationship with their child. I am speaking because, as I have sadly discovered over the past few years, this phenomenon is much, much bigger than my family, and we most certainly do need to talk about it and raise awareness of what is being done to our children.

Our daughter has just turned 21 and has been in the transgender bubble for just over three years.

Growing up, she was not particularly “girly” and did not like dolls, for example, but I thought nothing of that because I hated dolls as a kid and I was a bit of a tomboy myself. She loved soccer and handball, and she was a brown belt in taekwondo. She tried so many extra-curricular activities – dance, singing, gymnastics, swimming, and tennis – to name a few.

She used to walk with me every morning when I walked our dogs and go to the gym with me as well. She enjoyed shopping with me and choosing her own clothes. We would go and have our nails painted together. We would go to plays and concerts together. We had such a close and loving relationship. She is very smart and always did really well in school growing up, but she was bullied at school when she was younger. As a result of the bullying and the lack of support from the school, we moved her to a new school when she was 13 years old. That went well for the first two years, and she had a stable friendship group of really lovely girls.

Around the time she turned 15, she switched friendship groups. The new group had a girl who “did not identify as a girl” and that was my first introduction to gender ideology. I felt the new friends had a very negative influence on our daughter. Around the time she changed friendship groups, our daughter started experiencing mental health problems. For three years, these mental health problems continued. We moved through both the public system (called the Child and Adolescent Mental Health Service) and private mental health systems in our efforts to find help for our daughter.

We collected diagnoses of anxiety, depression, bipolar disorder and possible borderline personality disorder. We took our daughter to more than 70 medical appointments related to her mental health in that three-year period. We focused on diet, exercise, love, support and psychotherapy. But our daughter’s mental health eventually became much worse.

We found out that she had been cutting herself and binge eating as well. She had always been very conscious of what she ate – in a healthy way – as she had been a vegetarian for several years.

In hindsight, I believe this period was when she started focusing on transgender. She ended up having a four-week admission to the mental health ward of a local private hospital in the winter, as it reached the point that she was refusing to get out of bed and refusing to go to school. When she came out of the hospital after those four weeks, she cut her hair short.

The next few months were extremely traumatic for our family. She barely attended school and became aggressive and verbally abusive toward us and her younger brother. She was lying, stealing and binge eating, and would not do anything that we asked of her. I found out she was smoking marijuana. If we wanted to go out as a family with her younger brother to, say, a soccer match, she would declare she was anxious and suicidal so that I could not go. She became extremely manipulative.

The stress we were under was enormous. Our son was 13 at that time, and the distress of her abusive behaviour caused him to become anorexic. I remember him curling up in a fetal position on the floor and sobbing, begging her to stop her out-of-control behaviour. I guess our son saw that his intake of food was the one thing he could control. We were pretty much shattered as a family. I remember sitting in her general practitioner’s office sobbing and begging for help. It really was a nightmare. I believe it was over this period that she started to become engrossed with online trans sites. I later found a history in her web browser full of trans searches and sites.

Then, that spring, she announced all over social media that she was, in fact, a male and had a new name. She claimed that she had told people at school months before and had been going by her new male name at school for some time. She told us that everyone at school, including the teachers, was supportive. Considering I had been in contact with the school regularly because of her mental health problems and the fact that she had had many absences from school, I was stunned that no one from the school ever told us about her transgender announcement.

She had a scheduled visit to her psychiatrist the week she announced she was trans, and she told her psychiatrist that she was suicidal, so he insisted that we take her to our local public hospital for admission to the adolescent mental health ward. The psychiatric registrar who admitted our daughter to hospital said he thought she had borderline personality disorder.

After an all-night admission that my husband accompanied her with, I went to the hospital to visit her the following day. When I asked to see our daughter, I was told that I had a son. Already above her bed was the male name.

I was aware that two other girls who attended her drama group were saying they were boys, so I was very sceptical of her announcement of trans. She had never displayed any signs of the condition gender dysphoria. My scepticism was dismissed by the staff of the mental health ward. As parents who did not immediately affirm our child’s declaration of transgender, we were shamed and bullied by the medical professionals in that hospital ward. All of our voiced concerns were swept aside, and we were put down by hospital staff in front of our daughter, accused of being bigoted, not inclusive, and transphobic.

We were also told that we must accept that we now had a son or she would kill herself. They said, “Would you rather have a live son or a dead daughter?” They said they wanted to introduce her to a transgender staff member. The very next day was a Saturday, and I was called by the hospital to come and take our daughter out on day leave. I remember thinking at the time that they could not be too concerned about her being suicidal if they sent her home on day leave 24 hours after being admitted.

At a family meeting at the hospital we were ridiculed for “dressing her like a girl” when she was little. They were not one bit interested in her complex mental health history. We were told that she needed an immediate referral to an endocrinologist for hormones. She was 17, and we said no, that we did not agree to the referral and that we were returning to her GP and private psychiatrist. They needed our agreement for that referral. The hospital went ahead with the referral and wrote up her discharge summary, saying we did agree to the referral for hormones.

Our GP recommended we take her to a private psychiatrist in our hometown who specialised in gender. The only trouble was there was a six-month waiting list before we could get in to see him. From the hospital admission onward, our relationship with our daughter deteriorated significantly. She came out of the hospital after five nights and immediately shaved her head. The abuse she directed toward us escalated, and she was pretty much out of control. Her lying, binge eating and manipulative behaviour continued. She had another scheduled three-week hospital admission that spring in the same mental health ward of the same private hospital as she had been in five months earlier, except this time they pretended she was a boy. There was no improvement in her behaviour.

All of our voiced concerns were swept aside, and we were put down by hospital staff in front of our daughter, accused of being bigoted, not inclusive, and transphobic.

She left the hospital on day leave against the wishes of her treating psychiatrist to attend the endocrinologist appointment that had been made as a result of her earlier public hospital admission – the appointment we did not agree to. By this time she had turned 18.

When I went searching, I was absolutely stunned by what I found in the browser history of our daughter’s computer. It was almost unbelievable. YouTube videos of young girls singing the praises of testosterone, showcasing the changes to their bodies, and cheering each other on. Bragging about surgeries and showing off the scars of double mastectomies. It was macabre. I felt like I had landed in the middle of some sort of alien world, some parallel universe. How could anyone be cheering all these young people on to do such harm to themselves? I can honestly say I have never been as disturbed by anything in my entire life.

I found messages from transgender adults, cheering our daughter on and telling her to get rid of her unsupportive family. “Snip snip the mother f...ers” was one phrase I will never forget. That was from a trans adult who is portrayed in Australian media as some sort of hero. All I could see were red flags and grooming.

As a family, we were on the verge of breaking down. We were subject to daily torrents of verbal abuse and she called us the most despicable things. I was told I was a disgusting and pathetic parent, a white-privileged bigot, a boring heterosexual, a transphobe – the abuse just went on and on. It was like someone had put a script in her head because it did not sound like our daughter at all. She would stand with her face so close to mine and unleash her fury.

She was meant to be in her final year of school that year. However, due to missing most of the previous school year, she could not continue with school. We suggested she do a one-year university course that would give her the equivalent of her school leaving certificate. She enrolled in that course, and on the day she was due to start she wouldn’t get out of bed, telling me she had taken pills. I called an ambulance and she was taken to the hospital. I think I was just skin and bone myself at that time. I’d lost so much weight with the constant stress.

A few weeks later, after the usual daily torrent of abuse from her, we had to restrain her younger brother from lunging at her. I told her I wasn’t going to be treated like that any more. She left the house and went up the road to her glitter family, a girl she went to school with whose mother would pretend she was a boy. She told the mother her father had threatened her, so the mother took her to the police station and later that evening the police knocked on our door, and a DVO (domestic violence order) was served on my husband. The police did not even bother to come and talk to us or to find out our side of what had happened or how she had been behaving toward us.

Following the visit by the police we realised we could no longer have her living with us. A friend of ours owned a nearby house that had rooms he rented out to university students for accommodation, and luckily one room was vacant, so we moved her in there and paid 50 per cent of the rent.

At her request, I went to an appointment with her to the endocrinologist in May. I had not seen her since she had moved out and was not aware she was on testosterone. I later found out she had been started on testosterone at the second appointment with the endocrinologist. She’d seen the endocrinologist the previous December and then was given a script for testosterone in March.

No psychiatry, no psychology, no examination of her mental health history. A seriously mentally unwell teenager was given hormones that would make irreversible changes to her body.

My sister, who is a medical practitioner, came to the endocrinologist appointment with us. There was a “multidisciplinary team” of three people at the meeting, the pediatric endocrinologist, a nurse and a social worker. They said, “Oh, we are so pleased to meet you,” yet sat there at the meeting and did not bother to mention that they had already started our daughter on testosterone. I was suspicious. Our daughter’s voice had gone gravelly.

When I asked whether they were aware of her extensive mental health history, they said no, they were not. This was despite her being referred to them by the adolescent mental health ward of the very same hospital in which the endocrinologist had her clinic. The endocrinologist said, “Don’t you just want your daughter to be happy?” I honestly could not believe what I was hearing. Then they said they were referring her to an adult endocrinologist as she was now 18.

The following month we went with her to see a private psychiatrist who specialised in gender. He diagnosed her with complex PTSD, which he said was caused by childhood bullying. He was shocked she had been started on testosterone and said he would not have recommended it. He then told us he was closing his books to anyone under 25 so could not see her again.

By now I had nearly a year of research under my belt. I remember finding Dr Lisa Littman’s research on the new phenomenon of “rapid-onset gender dysphoria” and rejoicing. I remember finding journalist Abigail Shrier’s first article, “When Your Daughter Defies Biology”. I remember finding the parents’ websites 4thWaveNow and Parents of ROGD Kids. I remember being put in contact with another Australian mum, and I ended up speaking with her for hours. My goodness, I was actually not alone in my scepticism. The more I researched, the more gender-critical articles I found, and the more I realised how shocking and widespread this medical scandal actually was.

That September, I accompanied our daughter to an appointment with the adult endocrinologist. I took a stack of those articles I had read to the adult endocrinologist and tried to engage her in a discussion about how concerned we were about our daughter’s mental health and how many people were starting to speak out about this social contagion. I was dismissed by the adult endocrinologist, who told me, “Your daughter is over 18. She can do what she likes.” I remember being in total disbelief. How could a medical practitioner have so little regard for their seriously mentally unwell patient?

We eventually had our daughter accepted into a program through a private hospital. It was a weekly dialectal behavioural therapy class. After the first week of attending the therapy class, she went back to using her own name. Within a few weeks, she stopped taking testosterone. We could see this huge improvement in her. She was coming over once a week for dinner. Our son refused to see her, so he would stay inside, and we would eat out in our back room and watch a movie. She had befriended a lovely girl from Europe who was living in the student accommodation, and she would come around with her and take our dogs for a walk. But eventually the girl had to return to Europe, and we noticed that our daughter started binding her breasts again.

Then she told us she had seen a local plastic surgeon to have her breasts cut off. We suddenly had an uneasy feeling and wondered if she could use our private health cover to do this. We rang our health fund and found out they had issued a quote to a local private hospital the week before for the surgery. We immediately removed our daughter from our private health fund. We wrote to the plastic surgeon, a long letter detailing our daughter’s mental health history and our grave concerns not only for her and her welfare but also for the growing number of young people caught up in what we saw as a social contagion. Our daughter actually gave us permission to speak to the surgeon about her.

I asked him whether he was cutting the breasts off young women 10 years ago. He sheepishly replied, “No.” We made it very clear that we did not support our daughter doing this. He made the comment that we were the first parents to object.

I briefly managed to get our daughter to see another psychiatrist around this time. Knowing that he was gender critical, I hoped for a miracle. After several sessions with him, she refused to see him again. He did diagnose her with attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder and autism spectrum disorder. The autism spectrum diagnosis really made sense.

Hindsight is a wonderful thing. Looking back, I can see that she was always on the periphery of her friendship groups and that she never really felt like she fitted in or was like other girls. This became more obvious as she went through her teenage years. Yet of all the health professionals I had taken her to over those three years, no one had ever considered ASD.

The pattern is the same, over and over again … Trans suddenly gives them status and credibility, and they become the centre of attention.

Sadly, our daughter became more and more alienated from us. She fell back down the trans rabbit hole, just as we had hopes that she was coming out of it. She refused to see us for Christmas, and in January she told us she never wanted to see or speak to us again. She moved from the student accommodation and blocked all our numbers.

It is now three years since she declared she was transgender, and she has spent that three years on a disability support pension for mental health. She is not working and not studying. She attempted to restart her studies but ultimately withdrew from every course she attempted.

I have come into contact with so many parents like myself, all gravely concerned about the social contagion that our children have been swept up in and the scale of the harm that is being done by irreversible interventions like hormones and surgeries. I have read far too many heartbreaking stories of regret, of young people with maimed and permanently disfigured bodies – bodies that they will never be able to return to how they were.

The pattern is the same, over and over again: children and young adults who are mentally unwell, perhaps traumatised with histories of bullying or sexual assault; children who are most likely same-sex attracted; children who are on the autism spectrum and neurodiverse children; children who are misfits or socially awkward. Trans suddenly gives them status and credibility, and they become the centre of attention.

It is hard to imagine any other medical condition with a serious, life-altering treatment where the diagnosis is solely dependent on the reliability and accuracy of a child’s or young person’s self-report. We were supposed to accept, unquestioningly, the crazy notion that our female child became a boy overnight at the age of 17 and that she needed to alter her body to match this invisible internal identity. It was, to us, an obvious mental health issue.

Our daughter had serious mental health issues over a three-year period prior to her self-diagnosis as being transgender. There were serious red flags waving. These issues, these red flags, were all completely ignored by the medical profession.

She has also had another three years of very poor mental health because, in their rush to affirm transgender to the complete dismissal of all of her comorbidities, the medical profession has failed to treat her appropriately.

Parents understand social contagion among teens. We were teens once as well. Social contagions have always existed. What has changed is that today they are influenced by thousands upon thousands on social media and misinformation on the internet.

There was a cluster of girls in our daughter’s drama group who declared they were transgender. Three young women, all in the same drama class, suddenly becoming transgender? Surely that alone should raise red flags with any credible medical practitioner. Yet instead of seeing this social contagion for what it really is, the medical profession has lost sight of the Hippocratic oath and accepted the self-diagnosis of these young people. It beggars belief.

We all know puberty is an uncomfortable physical and emotional time for adolescents. Yet to reach maturity, we have to go through it. Puberty is not a disease, nor is it optional. It is the only path to our adult selves. To stop this in children is inconceivable. To put a mentally unwell and traumatised teenager on opposite-sex hormones is inconceivable. We are in the midst of an enormous medical scandal.

Postscript: Our daughter’s mental health issues first emerged more than seven years ago. Almost three years into this period, she announced she was trans and was started on testosterone. Now she regrets this and hates the irreversible damage it has done to her. She no longer identifies as trans.

#queer theory #gender ideology #wrong sex hormones #cross sex hormones #sex trait modification #medical transition #desistance #social contagion #mental health issues #medical scandal #medical malpractice #genderwang #religion is a mental illness

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slickshoesareyoucrazy · 1 year

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A Long December

This piece was originally written about my character, Deanna Berger, from my novels The Transition Piece, and its sequel, Hard Science and Modern Art. (There might be some minor spoilers for blog readers who haven’t read these books.) And it’s also about a few songs that aren’t really about Christmas/the holiday season, and holiday stress, and the ever-changing nature of life…the waves of positive and negative…of good and bad…of regret and gratitude. But re-reading this piece this year hit me differently, because...well...this has been a tough year. And this HAS been a long December. Hell, it's been a long 3-6 years; let's be real.

I know, right? Can’t we just do Holly Jolly Christmas things? You’re a self-professed sap, Jen. Your December is packed full of romantic sentimentality. You make up hopeful fictional love stories and even when it’s not Christmas, you’re kind of annoyingly preachy about peace on Earth and goodwill toward men (and WOMEN TOO dammit!). So like…do we need to be all deep and philosophical and arguably dark right now?

Well…yeah.

See, I love December. It’s full of memories about when I met J. It’s the month our son was born in. Those are unquestioningly the two best things that have ever happened to me, the two biggest pieces of my soul, the two most important people in my life, who both came to me in December. But I know not everyone loves it, and even in my own spectacular Decembers, there have been some shitty parts. I like to focus on the positives in life, because that’s how I operate the best and healthiest. But I haven’t forgotten about the problems. And I know for many people (sometimes my own self included), December can be hard. (It was hard this year).

We’ve all lost someone we miss and think about them in December because of holidays centered around people we love, or sometimes actual grief anniversaries, and shortening winter days, and the year coming to an end. Many people (myself included) have strained or difficult or even abusive or non-existent relationships with their families. Being around them out of obligation causes a lot of stress; nearly inevitable hostile confrontation causes stress; feeling judged or ignored or lonely causes sadness…and ramps up anxiety.

Deanna’s December is hard. She’s had some unequivocally good things happen for her in December. But she’s also had some terrible things happen to her. And she definitely feels that holiday strain, dealing with her family. For Deanna, it’s decidedly NOT The Most Wonderful Time of the Year.

She normally focused on what she’d lost in December, and I know there are many people who do this. And she felt extra obligation to spend time with her parents, who were not the most supportive people to her, even through the hardest parts of her life (which happened in December). So even the parts of her life that were good and that she was immensely grateful for felt overshadowed by sadness and anxiety and doubt. She felt weighed down by feelings of inadequacy and regret. I’ve been there. I know a lot of people have been there and ARE there, right now. I know a lot of people who get down every year in December. I had a friend of mine tell me once that her father, for every year of his life that she could remember, cried each New Year’s Eve. And he had a great life, and he was normally a cheerful, grateful, positive and optimistic man. December just has that effect on a lot of people. It makes people think about endings and mortality, because it’s the end of the year, and we remember people we once spent holidays with that are no longer there, or relationships that are difficult that we wish were loving and full of ease and contentment instead. Social obligation forces these things into the light in December. And that’s not even mentioning financial and diet/health pressures and management. (Oh just eat the fudge…the cookies…have another helping of the…it’s CHRISTMAS…Oh we have to get a gift for the teacher/mailman/your Aunt Barbara/but so-and-so is a vegan and this other person has a peanut allergy and we have to accommodate all of that into the holiday meals and we can’t leave out X if we got a gift for Y and…)

Deanna spent a lot of Decembers feeling alone and hardening herself to all of the emotional up and down and the connections…the obligatory ones that wore her down and the real ones she lost and feared losing. But when she met Jake…and later…even more so…when she met Bobby…her outlook on December brightened up.

This has been one of my favorite songs since the first time I heard it. It’s kinda like me. It’s melancholy and sentimental and full of nostalgia and memory and wistful lyricism (that’s what Counting Crows are all about…it’s why I love them and have since I was in high school). But as gray and somber as it is, it’s also stubbornly optimistic. And I think that’s not only me, that’s Deanna too. That’s how that particular one of my characters is like me. She’s been through some shit. She remembers all of it. But ‘there’s reason to believe maybe this year will be better than the last.’ This is one of her favorite songs too. And the connections she’s made give her that hope that things will always improve…the gray won’t last forever…December may be long, but it always rolls around to January. Deanna knows endings lead to new beginnings. So do I.

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queeniestclaire · 1 year

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I wish I had parents that were happy to have me and enjoyed my existence. I wish I didn’t have to excel and have huge milestones in order to have them acknowledge me. Constantly having to work towards huge goals in order to hear the words “I love you” or “I’m proud of you” is unfair. These last few years I haven’t accomplished much because emotionally I’ve been stagnant. I reached out to both of my parents but neither of them could show up for me in the ways I needed them to. They’ve always called me emotional and I get that it can repulse them but I just feel like I’m not good enough to receive their love. I’m not worthy of unconditional love. Even the partners I’ve dated have reflected this. I really am trying to become more of a lovable person. I try to be open, lend a listening ear, provide words of affirmation, show up in times of need, offer my time, my body, place negative emotions on the back burner, give gifts, ask for nothing in return, be patient, etc. None of it seems to be good enough. I’ve gotten back into praying in hopes that I can finally be happy instead of pretending I am. I feel like a background character majority of the time. I feel like I’m not worth paying attention to, I’m not worth making the extra effort for, I’m not worth showing off. I’m just there. For once, I’d like to be the apple of someone’s eye. I want to be loved so bad that I don’t have to think twice about if I look ugly when I smile or if I’m annoying someone by talking. I want to be loved enough that I can be myself unapologetically without fear that I’d be abandoned and forgotten because of it. I want to feel beautiful and desirable not because I have a vagina but because someone truly believes I’m beautiful. I don’t know if I’ll ever receive that. I truly hope I do though I deserve it. I may not be perfect but I know I deserve it. I know once I receive it that I’ll cherish that love forever. I’d move mountains for that type of love. I’d do anything within reason for that type of love. I pray 2023 can bring that for me because I don’t want to live in misery any longer.

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angelbluediary · 1 month

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It’s taking all my strength to sit upright in bed today. I thought this would be the day I finally got my shit together again, but there’s always an excuse. Always a reason. Tomorrow, surely tomorrow will be different…

Time becomes increasingly blurred in my Trauma Timeline. It’s hard to remember exactly how long things have been like this. Does it even matter? I’m not going to get a trophy for enduring past a certain point. I’ve been clinging to my pain for way too long as is. I have to let it go, I know I do. I know it’s not benefiting me. But there’s always an excuse (and always a fear).

I hate writing these feelings out because it’s all been said and it’s cyclical. I don’t stumble upon any new meanings. I need healthy conversations (with a licensed professional). I need new insights. But the sole community I have now can’t/wont offer what I emotionally need. And I don’t want to fault them for it when they’re helping me out so much materially, financially.

I hate feeling like I have to lean on anyone. I HATE feeling like a burden. And you’d think it would motivate me more to stop being a loser and get a job already, to stop wasting my days drowning in video games or scrolling on social media. I have felt so empty for so long. How am I supposed to motivate myself into action when there’s nothing I want to work towards? I’m happiest when I’m alone and daydreaming. All the skills I’ve cultivated have become a noose around my neck. All my education burned me and left me resentful. All my experience has led right back to my parents’ house, but because I left in the first place, it doesn’t truly have room for me. Being here reinforces the feeling of being a ghost that I’ve had for a very long time.

And you’d think THAT would motivate me to at least make the money to get out of here. But I’ve had that experience of busting my ass every month to make rent, and being so unhappy in those circumstances.

And I was so unhappy in my last relationship in another place.

So maybe I’m extra resistant because it’s like, what’s the point? If I’ll just be miserable and unaccomplished everywhere? I may not be satisfied here—and it may be damn hard living with family—but at least I know what to expect. At least I can fill my time with things that I want to do rather than put in so much effort for nothing again and again and again, all the while losing the last emblems of my self worth.

I did everything right. I did everything I was told to. And the world flipped upside down while I was doing so and has left me with nothing.

I want things to magically change as they once did. But this time for the better. I know I have to put in work for that to happen but where does my work lead me, except to constant disappointment? No matter what. And even when I’m proud of what I’ve done, no one wants to hear about it, they all look right through me, and the work goes nowhere or is simply wiped off the map against my will.

You know, even just yesterday, I thought maybe things were changing internally for me. For the better. When I thought of betrayals and connections, and why I’ve changed so much, it wasn’t through a negative lens. I thought, I went through all of that to learn. To become my best self. To filter out only the absolute best things in life for me. But now I’m feeling the way I usually do—the unfairness of it all. The idea that it hasn’t helped me at all, it’s only made me cold and closed off from future blessings.

It’s been two and a half years. Maybe that’s not really a long time to be struggling and lost and bitter, but it feels like an eternity when you’re in your 20s.

I miss my old body; I miss feeling curvy and desirable. Nothing I do or eat gets me anywhere close to what I used to look like, I feel like I have the body of a little girl. It’s so bizarre. All the flesh that drew awe and attention just fell right off of me (two and a half years ago). It’s like my physical form regressed while I withdrew from the world and my old life, but now I’m stuck like this. I don’t want to feel this way but I can’t accept myself with pride or sensuality.

Maybe it’s the environment, too. No room for sensuality or autonomy here.

(During my unfortunate scrolling) I saw a video of a woman saying that motivation based off of shame is flimsy motivation that won’t get you very far. Didn’t watch the whole thing, but it rang true. I know my only source of motivation is to not be a burden on my family; is to not feel like a complete waste of a human being; to not feel so embarrassed about where I am at this stage of my life.

It hurts my heart so bad that I’m not allowed to enjoy the full scope of what other people seem to attain so easily. I don’t have the friends, the lover, the creative works, the hobbies, the lifestyle, the travel, the job, the home. I only have my family and even that isn’t what I wish it could be. Emotionally I feel let down all the time. I feel like a bother simply existing. I feel like I can’t ever be authentic. There’s always something “wrong” with me. And I just, I’d be able to make sense of all this loss and rebirth so much easier if it didn’t feel like I held nothing. Watching old friends fall out of your life and feeling lonely is one thing—but can I have just one of those things? Can I feel support and feel seen and heard and loved and taken out on grocery runs or invited to concerts? Not that I can afford that now but it’s so not the point!

I go through job listings like 10 times a day and it breaks my heart. Nothing makes sense anymore. I try anyway and get even more hurt. I don’t know what else to do, I’m living on fumes with no end or true want in sight. Everything feels hopeless.

#off my chest #April 2024

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drsorrell · 8 months

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Mon. 10.2.23

Announcements & Reminders: Stay on top of all the little moving parts of our class (and your others). In October, the first semester of freshman year (if you're a freshman) starts to weigh you down a little!

Ch. 6, "Naysayers" = Counterargument. Anticipate objections and respond to them ahead of time. Why? It shows you are knowledgeable, helps you write more, and persuades the reader.

Example: Blanda argues that the best way for society to improve is for us to listen to people who don't agree with us and engage in actual discussion with them instead of assuming that we are right. This is a lovely idea, but what if these people--not the extremists he also mentions, but just regular disagreeing people--don't want to talk to us? Blanda has a nice idea but needs to think it through much more practically than he does in his essay. In my paper, I have been arguing that schools and families need to emphasize the basic virtue of being "polite." Now, someone could argue with me that I can easily say this because I am a tallish white guy in a tie; of course, I can be polite. I supposedly have it all. I don't deny that there is something like "white male privilege, nor that I had a lot of advantages that others didn't. After all, both my parents were professors! However, I also don't think that my own situation takes away from a good idea that could help everyone. I'm arguing that we all try to move toward an ideal, not that we all can do it equally right away because we all come from the same exact background! If we are polite and we encounter someone who doesn't agree with us about gun control and who really doesn't want to talk about it, that is okay. If we are polite and encounter someone who doesn't agree with us about gun control and wants to talk about it, great. My argument is not about achieving a specific effect ahead of time; it is about adjusting a general personality trait that it is hard to view as negative.

CORYELL GROUP

Is Coryell against all use of the slogan "All Lives Matter" or just when it is used as a response against "Black Lives Matter"?

What do you think about the roles of popular slogans or sayings in our everyday lives in 2023? What are some other examples?

ALEXANDER GROUP

Alexander concludes that we need "dialogue" and "conversation." But what if this conversation goes in a direction Alexander doesn't like? Feel free to bring in other readings from this unit, wink wink.

Do some light googling for prison stats in 2023 and share what you find with us.

MCWHORTER GROUP

Is this lack of attention to Black English in courtroom transcription done on purpose? Can you think of other language misunderstandings like this?

Do some light googling: How are court transcribers hired? Trained?

Overall Class Discussion + Counterarguments to Authors!

Homework

Read Ch. 20, Vance (433-450) and Pruitt (451-457).

Complete InQuizitive: “Comma Splices.”

Extra-Credit: All of the possible extra-credit is in a link to a Google Doc on our main Schoology page. There are 13 possible points there now. That's more than a whole letter grade (10 points)! New entries:

McWhorter: Read this John McWhorter (the same one) opinion essay after the Supreme Court decision this past summer. Summarize what McWhorter is saying here and your reaction to it in a paragraph. +2 points on Final Draft of Paper #2.

Vance/Pruitt: This is a recent piece (9.26.23) about JD Vance containing an interview. Read it, then find one quote from the Vance essay we read for class and explain how it connects. +3 points on the Final Draft of Paper #2.

Mehta/Frum: Read this recent article on immigration (10.1.23) and connect it to Mehta and Frum in a short paragraph. You can also use this reading instead of Mehta or Frum in Paper #2 if you like! + 3 points on the Final Draft of Paper #2.

#double_size

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kypossumlady · 1 year

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My goal this year is to stop demeaning myself for literally everything lol. I want to stop apologizing for being sensitive and having giant feelings. I want to stop apologizing for needing extra help sometimes. I want to get help from medical professionals without anxiously canceling every single time. I think I’m doing a good job so far. Quitting my job was a good thing for my mental health, and I’m sticking by that.

Girl crush has burnt out so fast. She got so weird, and it just aided in Tony and I feeling like she’s a giant ass red flag.

Quitting my birth control was like a 50/50 decision. On one hand the side effects that wrecked my body are gone. On the other hand, my period comes full speed and my moods are real fucking insane. I was thinking today that maybe the autism was kept semi-hidden because of (extreme masking) the hormones. Idk if that even makes sense but, still.

I don’t like talking about my autism because I feel like it makes people perceive me as attention seeking. That’s weird right? But talking about it has helped me realize so much about myself. The breakdowns I had as a kid where I would lose my absolute mind and my parents didn’t know what to do so they yelled back. (I don’t feel anything negative towards them about it. They are on the spectrum too. ) Preferring to be by myself when I played. Rocking all the time lmao. It’s so funny to think. My parents used to see me rocking in the car and they’d say “she’s just bopping”. I love/hate the fact that they didn’t know I was autistic and just thought I was quirky.

My goal this year is to move more and be outside more. My body is having a really hard time with chronic pain and I’m trying to combat it. Soft movements and stretches, resting, hydrating, listening to my body, and meds of course. Hopefully I can get my medical card for weed and it can help some too. I really don’t want to be on pain pills. I’ve not gone to the doctor for the pain I’ve felt forever because I’m scared I’ll be seen as a drug seeker. Which is silly but that’s my brain.

People tell me a lot that I’d be a good mom. And I think that’s kinda true. But the reason I don’t want kids (besides the responsibility part?) is I struggled my whole life with having giant feelings and not knowing what to do with them. They physically made me sick and made me ache. I know itd be different because I could help the kid but it seems too much. It’s just not for me.

I want to talk about the wedding more than I am. I need to get out of my head that I’m this giant burden when I’m not even talking that much.

A funny thing about my brain that I find hard to articulate is how edibles really level me out and make me functional. Sometimes it makes me chill. But I slept until 8 today, got up and chored, went back to sleep at 10, got up at 2 and went for a hike/walk, ate some lunch, napped again from 4-7, and did the barn chores. Then I ate 500mg of edibles- did a little laundry, gathered trash, vacuumed, did litterboxes, swept upstairs, and did some self care all within 2 hours. Some days I take 100mg and can function like a soccer mom on a school night, but some days like recently, it takes more just to mellow me out to function.

I want to find a way to document how my brain sounds and I have some of it saved on TikTok. Some days it’s like a crowd of people all talking at once, and while they’re talking, you hear at different times more prominent things. And during those talkings, a song is playing and it’s somehow loud. It sounds like word vomit but that’s a good way of explaining it.

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guiltyidealist · 2 years

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Posting a mental dialogue I've been stuck in for a few weeks because laying it out tangibly might help me out<3

For now, I'm uncomfortable with reblogs. Replies are okay though!

Long post, lots of text below-- talks in-depth about guilt, burdensome feelings, rejection-sensitive dysphoria, childhood emotional trauma, emotional parents abuse, hopelessness, insecurity, mental illness

I want to ask a coworker to hang out

Okay? Go for it

But he's been really tired lately. Can't sleep

Ah, well. There's no harm in asking

But I've asked a few times before and been declined

Oh I'm sorry. Did he say why?

Yeah-- he's been tired, busy, or both

Oh that's all? He didn't like.. insinuate that he didn't wanna hang with you?

... no, but being rejected that many times could mean he doesn't wanna hang at all

Well... I get it, but what's the harm in asking? Or checking that he does want to hang but hasn't been able to?

I don't want to be/act/seem desperate. I've incessantly checked with him about little stuff before. I can't afford to do it anymore/any time soon. Also he doesn't initiate interaction with me. He's super receptive when interacted with but he doesn't do it first. Some of it is him being tired, but to an extent he's just Like That™️, and I used to just confidently stride up and interact with him, but now I'm worried I'll annoy him because I care about him as a friend. even though I told him to please tell me if I'm ever bothering him and he said okay but hasn't said anything yet

... er, okay, well... maybe you could tell him that occasional explicit affirmations would be helpful for you? So that you aren't trapped in your head whenever you work shifts with him?

That's pathetic

??? I???????????????

Like. Come on he's this almost-30 y/o man trying to get by in this economy with one (1) fast food job. He doesn't need some mentally ill 20-something y/o nonbinary person being all like "hhh reassure me because I'm mentally I'll and can't reassure myself 👉👈"

Well like... okay, first of all? He's mentally ill too. Second? He told you he would tell you if you need to back off. Third?... okay, that point is a little more sound actually... it's not his responsibility to constantly reaffirm that you're friends and that he enjoys you when he hasn't done anything to imply otherwise. ... besides not being initiative and, sure, ~possibly~ besides turning you down.

Yeah see? Exactly

Well right, but. if you can get the ball rolling on more treatment for your mental health... you'll be directly on track toward weaning away from that need. So it might be more reasonable to ask that of him with that in mind-- it won't need to be forever, and being actively treated takes away from some of that "hhh I'll be better ~sometime~ I swear" limbo

... I mean... .. ...Fine, okay. Sure, let's say that would all play out okay. Now how do you propose we finally just get that fuckin ball rolling, hm? The one we have needed to do and haven't been able to do for at least 4 years???

... fucc

That brings up a world of problems. Can't do in-person therapy in this fuckin economy. Don't have the spoons to keep scheduling and attending with everything going on in my life at any given fuckin time. Meds + mindfulness are not nearly enough-- I need intensive fuckin treatment for a very long time. Which I don't have the fuckin spoons for because, again, I've been way into the negatives for years now. It would take like years to pay back that debt, build into spoon equilibrium and then... finally... maybe... even have positive spoons? and then extra spoons to spare and/or save up at the end of the day???? Like are you kidding me? He's just some guy, he doesn't deserve to be made to deal with this bullshit

... right right... okay, just. What about inpatient?

I-I'm sorry???? That's almost fuckin laughable. You know "what" about inpatient. Telling my family (the reason I need it) I'm going. which I can't not do because I'm a dependent and they are my health care. Them insisting we talk about it, since it's their money-- ideally, I don't ~really~ need to go. So then being gaslit out of it, convinced I don't truly need it and having (further!!!) internalized taking all costs to avoid being burdensome.

Oh and for anyone bothering to read, we are very well off. My family is upper-middle class. We/they vacation at least once a year. Money is just not that pressing of an issue. Yeah spending is never ideal, but we have much expendable income that we use on things we don't need need-- we pay a cleaning lady to purge the house every couple weeks for fuck's sake.

Oh and the natural thing for me to say next: "... so they could easily make some sacrifices on the more luxury expenses they choose to make in order to pay for my health care"? Yeah not a fucking chance. As said before, I have so heavily internalized not being a burden... I can barely handle being anything but above and beyond for people. I feel deep, immense, inescapable guilt just at the notion of potentially inconveniencing someone. I feel this guilt so fucking hard when I know it will burden/inconvenience someone, or when I think I know. And especially when it actually happens and someone tells me so. Which... is my entire fucking problem here. It's not truly about my coworker, it's straight up that.

... y. yeah. No deadass, all of that is correct. That's the situation, that's how you feel, that's the trauma you have, that's how it manifests and interferes with your interpersonal relationships.

Oh but I'm not done! That's just the big "what" about inpatient. How about the fact that we barely have enough fucking spoons to shower after work each day (and to be honest? Only because it's an ABSOLUTE NECESSITY-- I work fast food)? The fact that we can't brush our teeth most days? The fact that we're struggling to eat lately because of appetite problems, meds, and timing? Like how in the goddamn fuck are we -- with everything going on in my personal life, the sociopolitical climate, the world, and my behind-the-scenes trauma -- gonna muster up the spoons to take those HUGE FUCKING steps?

And then just to be slammed with the big "what" from before? Absolutely fucking not. I straight up cannot afford to gamble that many spoons. Not if I want to.. literally be alive

I.. I know... I'm sorry... it just sucks because... getting into inpatient would be exactly the thing we need to get into inpatient... Once again, the services for my disabilities are specifically inaccessible to the people who have those disabilities...

... yeah... I'm sorry... I wish I could be more optimistic about it all, but with all that and what's going on in the world and the fact that Fletcher is gone?...

No yeah... I get it... I just wish we weren't so... utterly powerless. I know asking for help getting into inpatient would be the only thing we could do, but I also know that I get this sort of behavioral/verbal paralysis when I try to ask for help because of my "guilt over burdening" issues... and when I do manage to start?... I severely downplay how much I need help and how much of it I need... and will shut down and brush it aside as "okay yeah no worries" immediately upon any opposition... part of why I dread having to bring it up to my parents...

Yeah... that's exactly it... I guess for now we can ask friends for a little help? We can have a little help, as a treat right? And then maybe ask [psychiatrist] to help?

... yeah... yeah. I think so. What, um... what are we going to ask for though? "Help me" is awfully vague

Er... well... I. I fucking guess... we could ask for a friend to occasionally provide explicit reassurance of our relationship unprompted...

Yeah.. yeah, I like that. 💚

#thank you for coming to my ted talk #if you actually read through all of this. hi I'm love you #in case you're wondering. yes it did help me out #thank you for letting me post this (I say as if you could. somehow bar me from doing it ucyvhgydujtj)#kindly refrain from reblogging! replies are okay ^^

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mintmatcha · 3 years

Text

ukai keishin - grumpy

amy!!!! ty so much for the request- i really admire your writing and i hope you like this!!!]

Summary: just a snapshot of your relationship with keishin

Contains: NFSW, 18+, no reader pronouns, reader has a vagina, new relationship/established relationship, soft smut, slight mention of relationship issues.

ukai x reader

word count: 4k

cross posted: ao3

The woody vine digs into the pad of your thumb as you pluck another pepper. The repetition has dug a noticeable indentation into the skin, one that makes you wince every time you harvest a vegetable. In the low light of pre-dawn, sun still tucked behind the mountains, you can't see the bruising on your fingers, but you can feel how it pulses. Popping the digit into your mouth, the warmth of your tongue is automatically soothing, so much so that you can ignore the soft taste of soil on your skin.

“I told you to bring gloves.” Keishin chides, barely looking up at you. He’s squatted a couple feet away, elbows resting on his thighs as he works. The rubber boots, with his oversized overalls crammed into the top, squeak every time he shifts. Pick, squeak, pick, squeak. You open your mouth to tease him, but the way his eyes meet yours, steeled and firm, tell you he’s not in the mood. Cinching his teeth around the worn leather, he pulls his hand from the glove and leaves it dangling from his mouth, lips curled to avoid touching the dust directly. Even in his goofy attire, there’s something about his focus- the downward cast of his eyes, the hint of his canine over the leather, the steadiness of his hands- that makes your heart flutter. Wordlessly, he takes the glove out of his mouth and tosses it your way. You catch it with a fumble.

“Are you sure?” you ask as you pull it on. The tips of the glove gap above your fingertips, bending outward as you clench your fist. “What about you?”

He shrugs and returns to work. Even in the darkness you can see his scowl. “I guess I’m not as delicate as you.”

You didn’t blame him. He doesn’t mean to be this… grumpy. This was the worst time of year for Keishin; harvest season overlapped with volleyball preliminaries. The late nights he had been pulling with the team after work on top of these early mornings at his family’s farm had to be draining. It was no wonder that date nights had become nearly nonexistent. It didn’t help that your work schedule often led to you working on the weekends, meaning that between the two of you there were no free days. Sleepovers are far and few between; both of you still live at home and, despite the fact you are both well into your twenties, your parents weren’t too keen on your sleeping next to someone while unwed. No free days, no free nights.

Again, you didn’t blame him. It wasn’t like he was trying to avoid you, three jobs was a lot for anyone. It was hard to ignore your concern for his well-being, but he was always quick to dismiss your worries. ‘I’m an adult.’ he always insisted. ‘I can balance myself.’

Was it selfish to miss him? Was it selfish to wish there was an extra hour in his day for you?

“You didn’t have to come.” Ukai says, matter-of-fact. “You should be sleeping right now.”

“I want to be here.” you insist. It’s almost a lie. Do you really want to be here, squatting in the dirt, picking vegetables at 5:30am? Of course not, but you wanted to be here for him. With him.

The metal thermos at your feet wobbles as you adjust, the deep squat you’ve been sitting in starting to ache deep in your thighs. Dropping forward onto your knees, the gravel of the path digging into your kneecaps, you wrap your hands around the metal, pressing it against your chest to feel the ambient warmth. The blonde doesn’t turn from his work, but he does tilt his head towards you, a small sign of his attention.

“You gonna hold it or drink it?’

You huff before taking a delicate sip, trying to avoid burning your lips. “I’m savoring it, ‘Shin.”

“ ‘Savoring it.’ ” he repeats. The grit of sleep still clings to his voice. He sounds weathered, tired. “Are you gonna let me ‘savor’ some of that?”

“Maybe.” you take another sip before placing the cup back down, this time closer to him, a silent invitation. It’s like trying to feed a stray cat, luring him in with the promise of something tasty. “If you’re good.”

A long moment passes and he doesn’t move, he just studies you. There may have been a flicker of a smile, a hint of a good mood hiding underneath the surface, but it's gone before you can process it.

“You know.” he says, “I don’t know how you do it.” he continues working with bare hands and, even without protection, he works so much faster than you. You can tell he’s been doing this for years; every twist of his wrist seems practiced. It’s something you try and emulate each time you’re here with him, but it only slows you down more.

“Do what?”

Keishin finally stops. He chews his cheek for a moment, eyes flickering across your features. He opens his mouth, then shuts it with a sigh as he weakly gestures to the thermos at your feet. “The coffee. How do you make the coffee?”

You can’t help but sigh as you fall back onto your seat. You cross your legs as you grab the thermos, taking a deep pull. Again, you savor it with a hum and Keishin snorts at your antics. He picks from the row of plants once more before standing. Hands on the back of his pelvis, he stretches slowly, popping his back with the same care an old man would. It reminds you of his grandfather, but you keep that remark to yourself.

“ ‘Shin, you make yourself coffee every day- probably the same way I do.” you say as he plops himself next to you. The cup is already waiting for him when he reaches for it.

“But yours is always better.” he doesn’t say it with the sweetness of a compliment- he says it like a fact. It shouldn’t make you smile this wide, but it does. He blows over the lid of the mug, watching the steam twist into the air for a moment before taking a drink. It was your coffee, but you had made it for him- just a splash of cream, a crazy amount of sugar: just the way he likes it. The crinkle at the corner of his eye as drinks tells you that he notices.

“Are you savoring it?” you ask. He just closes his eyes and sighs.

"I guess I am."

Even without looking, his pinky finds yours, looping together gently. It's the gloveless hand, finding yours. Bare skin against bare skin, warmth against warm. Your body prickles with warmth as he squeezes; something about him pulling you closer, even if it’s just a finger’s width closer, makes your heart jump. It’s funny how the smallest gesture makes you melt. Keishin didn’t always have a lot to give you; your relationship was a collection of these small moments together, settled between his jobs and yours, but it was enough.

Every moment together is restorative.

“Cinnamon.” you press a kiss into his shoulder as you snag your cup back. He peeks at you through one open eye, “I put cinnamon in the coffee.”

Keishin leans into you, resting his head against your shoulder. He nuzzles into your sleeve, drawing in a deep breath, before pulling away to sit up straight again. Reaching back into the row of plants before you, he plucks one carefully before dropping it into the bucket. “Nah, that’s not it.”

You blink. “Uh, yeah. It is.”

“Nah. It’s because it’s made with love.” he smirks.

You pretend to think for a moment. "Actually, I didn't make this cup with love- so you're wrong."

He rolls his head back to watch you. "Oh yeah?"

"I made it with hate."

"Really." he tilts his body, chest pressed against your shoulder.

"You didn’t taste my loathing?" you tease.

The tip of his nose grazes your ear, nudging you softly. His breath warms the side of your face, lips just a moment from your skin. He’s patient, waiting for you to come to him. You try and resist for just a moment, but he nudges you with a huff.

You can’t help but crumble.

There’s a hint of a chuckle as you finally turn to meet his lips. The kiss is off center, connecting at the corner of your mouth. You try to pull back to correct it when a leathered hand grips on to your jaw and he holds your face steady, squishing your lips with sheer force. Ukai doesn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss, his tongue swiping your lower lip before dipping into your mouth. He tastes like coffee and cinnamon, sweet and bitter. With every movement, he savors you, pulling you deeper and deeper until the both of you are twisted into each other's embrace.

When he pulls away, it’s too soon. It’s not until he’s panting against you that you realize your own lungs are burning for air, almost as if your hunger for him had outweighed your need to breathe.

He hums thoughtfully. “I dunno, tastes like love to me.”

You roll your eyes, trying to bite back your smirk as you lean in for another kiss. “God, you’re the worst, Shin.”

This time, he doesn’t connect. Instead, he pulls away, mouth downturned once again as he stares back into the sea of green. It’s an unfocused stare, focused more on his thoughts than his surroundings.

“Yeah, I kinda am, aren’t I?”

“Hey, what-” you struggle with what to say. “Don’t be like that.”

“I mean, it’s true.” he shrugs. “This is our first date in, what? 3 weeks? And we’re working on my fucking grandpa’s-”

Your elbow cracks against the soft of his ribs, a bit harder than necessary. He wheezes slightly as you knock the air out of him. “Negativity be gone.”

He whines a bit too dramatically. “Oh my god, what’s wrong with you? Did you learn that from Sugawara? I’m never letting you watch a game ever again.”

It’s hard to hold back your smirk. “I mean- it worked! I’m not going to let you ruin the moment with your nega-!”

“Shut up for a second!” he says and this time he’s the one throwing an elbow. “I’m trying to apologize for being a shitty boyfriend!”

“You shut up!” you mirror him, but he’s ready this time. His response is quick, catching your arms against his. You two continue, poking back and forth roughly, laughter bubbling up. “You don’t need to apologize for being busy!”

“Well, I’m going to.” he grabs the edge of your shirt, leaning into you once again. “Come here and accept it.”

The gravel shifts under your feet as you scramble to stand, pulling out of his grasp. He watches you in confusion as you back away, but his look quickly transforms into something playfully predatory. The shift is wordless, but both of you understand the game that’s about to unfold.

“Come. Here.”

“No way.”

You turn on your heel and run. Keishin’s quick, grunting with effort as he throws himself forward. The sound of his shoes, squeaking against the rock, is faster than you anticipate and you have to force your legs to pump quicker. The cool morning air burns your throat as you barrel down the row, the dew covered leaves brushing against your arms and leaving wet stripes. Something about the simple act of moving dissolves all your tension, all your worries.

You turn your head to check in on your pursuer. Keishin is behind you, running with just as much force as you, but he’s grinning ear to ear with breathless laugh. It’s not his usual mischievous grin, but a soft one. A relaxed one. His baseball cap is halfway off of his head, caught by the wind, but he doesn’t reach to save it. He’s too busy reaching for you.

Everything is quiet except the two of you, laughing breathlessly as you chase each other like children. The sun has just started to crest the mountains, illuminating the sky with a blur of pastels. The pink of the sky reflects in his hair, catching in the glint of his eye as his gaze meets yours, and something in your brain tells you that you’ll remember this exact moment for the rest of your life. You want the moment to freeze, to stay in this childish bliss forever-

-but, of course, it doesn’t.

The rubber toe of Keishin’s boot catches a rock, sending him tumbling forward into a slow fall. He stumbles, catching himself for a moment before falling onto his knees, then his face. With a wince, he rolls on to his back, arms and legs spread eagle in defeat. Oversized pants, chunky boots, a stupid baseball cap: he looked more like an exhausted toddler than an adult. You slow to a jog, trying to pretend his fall wasn’t absolutely hilarious, but your stomach is clenching with the repressed laughter. Backtracking, you join his crumbled form.

“You okay?” you’re panting much harder than you should be. God, shouldn’t the smoker be less athletic?

“No, I think I’m really hurt.”

“Where? Your knees?” you drop to your knees immediately and reach for him, taking his hands in yours. The palm of his non gloved hand is scraped, but there’s no sign of blood.

“My ego.” he groans, “I think I bruised it.”

You let out something that isn’t quite a sigh or a groan. “You jerk.” you lean down and place a kiss on the bridge of his nose, right over where it crinkles when he smiles. “You had me worried for a second.”

He cranes forward to press his lips against yours, but only going as far as to brush his lips against yours. Every movement of your lips is a ghost against his, each breath more present than the feeling of skin. Each kiss is just a tease, barely a taste, and it makes you feel hungry. His hand circles your waist before drawing a line up your spine and your hunger deepens, burning deep into your core.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately.” he says against your skin, hand guiding you closer to him. You lay down next to him, resting your head on his bicep. It should feel silly, to be laying in the dirt, in the middle of the field, but there’s something so natural about being with him that makes you forget about your surroundings. There’s something natural and unadulterated about being quiet with each other.

“It won’t be like this forever, I promise.” he’s the first to break the silence. “One day, we’ll see each other every day. Just- be patient with me.”

You kiss his shoulder. “You’re worth the wait.” you place another one a few inches upwards. “I miss you, but you’ll always be worth the wait.”

Ukai rolls, throwing a knee over your hips to loom over you. His bangs tickle your forehead as he kisses you. It’s short. “I miss you.”

He places another peck on your lips. “Every day.”

Another kiss catches you off guard. “Every night.”

Another one. This one is long enough for you to kiss back. “Constantly. I miss you constantly.”

You hook a leg over his ass, fingers starting to fiddle with the buttons holding his overalls up. “Prove it.”

He hesitates. Tilting his head up, he holds his breath as he scans the row, searching for any signs of movement in the distance. Until now, you had forgotten that other people even exist. The air is still, only the distant sound of crows cutting through the silence. His muscles relax against you after a moment, gaze returning to study your features.

“I missed you.” he leans in and breathes into the shell of your ear before sinking his canines into the lobe. The sharpness sends you keening in surprise, pressing yourself farther into him. He takes the opportunity to tuck his arm under the arch of your back, using the angle to hold your hips against his, his forming bulge pressed right against your core. Your hands are still twiddling with the clasp on his overalls, your proximity to him making the simple task much harder than it should be. Every one of his movements is pulling you into him, like he can’t get you close enough to be satisfied. He sucks on the soft on your neck finishing the hickey off with a bite.

“Why’d you wear these stupid, ugly pants?” you huff as you finally free a button. Ukai breaks away from your neck to laugh before tracing his tongue across the bruise. The warmth surprises you and you can’t stop the whine that escapes you.

“Fuck off.” his free hand easily unclinches your pants before shoving them down. The denim digs into the plush of your thighs as he struggles to place himself between your legs. The ground is cold and coarse against your bare skin, but you can’t focus on anything other than the heat of his breath trailing down your neck.

“Fuck- I missed you.” he repeats as you finally unclasp his overalls and slide them down. They hang off his hips, just low enough for his erection to hang over the fabric, his dooling cockhead resting against your stomach. Firmly, he taps his cock against you with a soft thwack, watching the translucent strings of precum connecting you stretch and break. It dribbles on the hem of your shirt and you want to admonish him for it, but when your eyes meet, his blown out pupils take your words away. The way he watches you, eyes hazed over with lust, is borderline feral. All you can do is kick down a pant leg, freeing your leg and allowing it to fall farther open for him.

Keishin slides further down you, greedily dragging the spongy head of his cock through your folds, gathering your slick. Each pass across your clit makes you twitch, thighs squeezing around his hips. With a wolfish grin, he splits your cunt with his free hand and whistles at the sight.

“I missed this pretty little pussy.” he pressed forward unceremoniously and the head of his cock squeezes into you with a pop. The stretch aches, but something deeper in you is burning for more. “Fuck, look how wet you are… “

He’s quick to bottom out, slamming his hips into yours as if he can’t hold back any longer. His eyes are struggling to stay open as he rolls his hips against you faster, struggling to continue watching your poor pussy struggle to take him. The weeks without him have left you desperate, hips uncontrollably bucking against his. The rhythm is off, your bodies struggling to keep up with each other and just ending up slamming against each other unevenly. It’s wild, it leaves you breathless but your approaching high is so painfully close, neither of you can slow down to gather yourselves.

“You’re so good, fuck, so tight…” his head lolls forward, eyes fluttering closed, “You… so good… so hot… fuck, I missed you.”

Your hands wander up the front of his shirt, nails scraping against his chest. “Ple-ase, Keishin.” you beg, too breathless to say anything else. The sound of your voice makes him crumple over with a whine, fingers digging painfully hard into the fat of your hips as he struggles to pull you impossibly close. His cock twitches, spilling pulse after pulse of hot cum deep inside you.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” he murmurs, hips dragging out of you slowly. The movement makes you feel sloppy, the mixture of his cum and yours spilling down the crack of your ass. The sheer lewdness of it makes your core clench with desire, but the fading heat in your core makes you feel borderline nauseous.

As you begin to untangle yourself, trying to hide your disappointment, he pulls you back in.

“Don’t.” he whispers into your chest. “I’m not- I’m not done with you.”

Ukai’s headband has slipped backwards, barely hanging on to the back of his head. The mess of blonde, half of it plastered to his forehead, tickles your cheek as he kisses your cheek. The edge of desperation is gone, replaced with something gentler, as he rolls back into you. Every bit of friction has been replaced with the slick, warmness of his cum.

“I wanna wake up next to you every day.” Something about cumming has made him sappy. His hand dips low to circle your clit, tracing those practiced patterns you love so much. This time, instead of a fast, dangerous rise, the heat inside you pours slowly, like magma flowing through your core.

“I’m going to buy you a big ol’ house.” he mumbles into your chest, looking up at you through his eyelashes. “And a pretty little ring. And -oh fuck you feel so good- and, and you’re never gonna miss me again.”

God, the term making love is corny, so impossibly cringey, but as he whispers those promises into your skin, you understand it. It’s more about the need to feel closer, the need to hold and be held. It’s three weeks of emotions that neither of you can vocalize.

Fuck, you feel so full. Physically, emotionally. Every caress is tender, delicate and appreciative. Your thumbs trace over his crow’s feet and for the umpteeth time this morning, you savor the moment.

“I wanna be with you forever.”

Everything feels in focus- the friction of his jeans against your knees, the fabric clinging to your stomach, prickled with sweat, the ministrations of your lover’s lips against your skin as he whispers sweet nothings into you- but everything fades as you cum. Your orgasm hits slowly; you don’t even know you’re there until your legs are kicking out uncontrollably. Fingers tangled in the cotton of his shirt, you keen one last time. In the blur, you’re faintly aware of him joining you, his words dissolving into whines.

It takes a heartbeat for everything to still again. Keishin tilts his head up, studying you for a moment before speaking.

“‘M so tired.” he essentially collapses on you, knocking the air out of your lungs. The lay he goes immediately slack in your arms would have been cute if whte weight of his body wasn’t pressing our bare skin into the gravel under you. “I’m gonna nap.”

After quickly ruffling his hair, you press him up, gentling encouraging him to get off. “Come on, sleepyhead, your grandpa’s gonna start looking for us if we’re gone for too long.”

Keishin grimaces, propping himself up onto his elbows as he withdraws from you. The air against the mess on your thighs makes you shiver. “Please don’t mention the old man while I’m still inside you.”

He falls back into his heels and leaves you laying there. Before adjusting himself, he takes your bare leg by the ankle and tries to slip your pant leg back on. The hem gets caught on your heel and he fumbles.

“I can dress myself, Shin, you don’t have to.” you sigh, even as you adjust to make it easier. Denim sticks to your wet skin and he continues to work, completely ignoring your protest. As you lift your hips, letting him slide it past your waist. “Did you mean it?”

He hums a question, buttoning your pants.

“You really wanna spend the rest of your days with me?”

Ukai looks up at you. “Well. Yeah, of course.” he smiles, “Who else is gonna put cinnamon in my coffee?”

#haikyu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #fluff #smut #ukai #ukai keishin #ukai x reader #keishin x reader #ukai keishin x reader #mint's musings

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no--envies · 3 years

Text

In my opinion, one of the reasons JC went crazy after WWX’s death and started venting his own anger and hatred on every demonic cultivator he met, regardless if they were guilty or innocent, is that he couldn’t stand the fact that he hadn’t managed to deal the killing blow to WWX. After all his effort in leading the siege and using the information he had on the Burial Mounds to plan the action and convince everyone else to follow him, he wasn’t even the one who actually killed WWX. WWX died because one of his cultivation techniques backfired and he was torn to pieces by his own ghost army.

I think JC couldn’t accept this. After everything he had done - and thinking he was justified in hating WWX for all the perceived wrongdoings he believed he was a victim of - WWX had managed to surpass him once again. Nobody was able to kill him, not even him.

We know JC’s reaction in the aftermath of the siege because JGY and XY directly comment on it in the extra focused on them:

Xue Yang, “What about his flute? Can you get me Chenqing?”

Jin GuangYao shrugged, “Not Chenqing. Jiang WanYin took it.”

Xue Yang, “Doesn’t he hate Wei WuXian the most? Why would he need Chenqing? Didn’t you also get that sword of Wei WuXian’s? Give him the sword in exchange for the flute. It’s long since Wei WuXian stopped using his sword, while Suibian sealed itself and nobody can pull it out. What’s the use of keeping a fucking piece of decoration?”

Jin GuangYao, “You really ask me to do the impossible, Young Master Xue. Do you think I haven’t tried? How could anything be that simple. That Jiang WanYin has already gone mad. He still thinks Wei WuXian hasn’t died. If Wei WuXian returned, he might not search for his sword, but he’d definitely come for Chenqing. And so, he would definitely not give up Chenqing. A few more words of mine, and he might blow up.”

Xue Yang sniggered, “A mad dog.”

(Chapter 118, ExR translation)

Whatever JC had tried to achieve by leading the siege, he wasn’t able to achieve it. If the only thing he had wanted was to punish WWX for his deeds, he would have been satisfied with his own role in WWX’s death. I don’t think killing WWX was the only thing he wanted, though. He was probably trying to prove something, to himself and everyone else. He wanted to prove that he could surpass WWX for once, and that WWX had been wrong all along in choosing to put himself at risk to help others instead of listening to him. He wanted WWX to admit it was all his fault.

After a while of silence, Jiang Cheng asked, “You’ll stay like this from now on? Got any plans?”

Wei WuXian, “Not at the moment. None of the group dares go down the mountain. People don’t dare do anything anything to me when I go down the mountain either. It’ll be fine as long as I don’t stir up trouble on my own.”

“On your own?” Jiang Cheng sneered, “Wei WuXian, do you believe that even if you don’t stir up trouble on your own, trouble won’t come and find you? It’s often impossible to save someone, but there are more than thousands of ways to harm someone.”

Wei WuXian replied as he ate, “A man with strength can defeat ten with skill. I don’t care if they have thousands of ways. I’ll kill whoever comes.”

Jiang Cheng spoke in a cool voice, “You never listen to any of my opinions. One day, you’ll come to understand that I’m the one who’s right.”

(Chapter 75, ExR translation)

JC had always tried to convince WWX to abandon his path. Since he couldn’t outshine WWX in any way, he wanted to at least prove he was right in the path he had chosen, that choosing to help others at the expense of oneself ultimately wasn’t worth it. But WWX wasn’t swayed in the least. He kept walking resolutely on his single-plank bridge in the dark, regardless of what anyone else thought.

WWX was aware of JC’s mentality: he knew JC wouldn’t willingly put his own reputation at risk to help him protect Wens if he could avoid it. This was one of the main things that divided them since they were teenagers: their values and outlooks were simply too different, it was only a matter of time before their choices made them take completely diverging paths. WWX was fine anyway, he could take care of himself - this mindset could be seen as too overconfident, but he wasn’t completely wrong. He knew he could protect the Wen remnants even without relying on anyone else, since he managed to do it for two years before everything crumbled at Qiongqi Path.

In the end, Jin Zixun ambushed WWX accusing him of something he hadn’t done, and everything spiraled down so quickly he couldn’t do anything to prevent it, until he lost control of his demonic cultivation and killed Jin Zixuan. The sects’ suspicion towards him turned into open hostility and everyone was immediately ready to consider him an actual threat to them all. After the bloodbath of Nightless City, WWX was labeled as the scourge of the cultivation world, an enemy that should be eliminated to guarantee everyone’s peace and safety.

At first glance, one could think JC was right and WWX was wrong. But if this was really what the novel is trying to tell us, why was JC unable to move on for thirteen years, while WWX was immediately ready to start a new life and leave everything in the past after he was brought back? Even when JC managed to capture WWX and confronted him, WWX didn’t have anything to say to him.

The cup was steaming. Before he had taken a single sip, Jiang Cheng suddenly hurled it at the floor. He lifted the corner of his lip slightly and spoke. “You—you don’t have anything to say to me?”

[...]

“I don’t know what to say to you,” Wei Wuxian replied sincerely.

“So you refuse to repent,” Jiang Cheng said in a low voice.

In their past conversations, they had frequently tried to sarcastically undermine each other. Wei Wuxian thus replied without thinking, “Similarly, you haven’t improved a single ounce either.”

Jiang Cheng’s answering smile was brimming with fury. “Fine. Then let’s see which of us truly hasn’t shown an ounce of improvement.”

(Chapter 24, Fanyiyi translation)

I think this exchange is very interesting: WWX and JC are no longer bickering or teasing each other as they so frequently did in the past. What had once been a complicated relationship with genuine affection beneath it all, now retained only the semblance of it. There’s no more warmth, no more anything worth trying to repair. While JC is still adamant about using WWX as a scapegoat to avoid reflecting on his own mistakes, WWX has long since moved on. He doesn’t even feel resentment towards JC, he just wants to live his new life freely.

JC is an interesting foil for WWX, their interactions show how fundamentally incompatible they are and both of their character arcs highlight one of the main themes of the novel: the importance of letting go of all the grudges and negative feelings and remembering the good things, since only then one can truly be free. This is something WWX knows perfectly well:

Wei WuXian propped his arm on Lil’ Apple’s head, spinning Chenqing in his hand, “My mom said you have to remember the things others do for you, not the things you do for others. Only when people don’t hold so much in their hearts would they finally feel free.”

This was one of the only things he remembered about his parents.

(Chapter 113, ExR translation)

#mdzs #mdzs meta #jiang cheng #wei wuxian

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mydogisveryadorbs · 4 years

Text

crush | jj maybank

summary: jj has had a crush on you for longer than he can remember

warnings: cursing, mentions of smut (if you squint), tiny bit of angst, SOFT JJ, fluff, fluff, fluff

masterlist :)

(gif credit to the owner)

2.1k+ words

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JJ Maybank is was a player.

This is a well-known fact on both sides of the island.

You knew of way too many girls, pogues, kooks, and tourons alike, that had tried their shot at him. All hoping that they could magically change his bad-boy exterior and that he would suddenly transform into the dating type.

It wasn't uncommon that you had girls come into the shop, crying to you about how JJ Maybank didn't text them back and proceeding to buy a bunch of sweets to comfort themselves.

Your family-owned Kildare Bakery, home of the best cupcakes the Outer Banks had to offer. You had grown up helping your parents out in the bakery and once you turned 16 they finally made you an official paid employee.

You worked behind the register and for the most part, you loved it. It was really interesting to meet new people, especially tourons visiting from out of state.

However, there were moments where you didn't enjoy your job and this was definitely one of them.

A girl who looked to be about your age had walked into the store a few minutes ago, looking sad, but you didn't say anything. You simply asked if she needed any help and all of a sudden she was breaking out into a fit of sobs, reaching across the counter to pull you into a hug. You awkwardly patted her back, “Umm, you okay?”

“T-there was this boy,” she hiccuped and you immediately knew exactly where this was going. “I met him at a party last night and we h-hooked up and it was like really good, but when I asked him for his number he wouldn't even give it to me.”

You tried to hold back your eye roll but you couldn't help it. “Let me guess, his name was JJ,” you say, his name sounding slightly bitter on your tongue.

The girl finally pulled away from you, wiping her puffy eyes. “You know him,” she asked in confusion.

You nod. “Yes. Don't worry though, you'll find a much better guy and you will forget about JJ in no time,” you say in an attempt to comfort her.

She narrows her eyes. “Wait, you've hooked up with him too,” the girl asks.

You can't help but laugh. “Absolutely not, I just get a lot of his previous hookups in here,” you explain, gesturing to the display case. “I typically recommend the double chocolate cupcake to girls who've had their heart broken by JJ Maybank.”

The girl continues to look at you in confusion, but nods at your suggestion. You grab a chocolate cupcake and quickly box it up wanting to get her and all of her emotions out of here as quickly as you could.

“That'll be $2.34,” you say, and the girl quickly pulls out a ten. You hand her her change and her cupcake. “Have a nice day.”

Unbeknownst to you, JJ Maybank himself watches the interaction from outside of the bakery.

He can't help the way his heart feels when he sees you comfort the crying girl who he vaguely remembers from the boneyard last night.

Pope nudges his rib cage with his elbow. “Seriously, JJ,” Pope says, clearly annoyed by the blonde boy. “You brought me all the way down here just so you could stare at the girl you've had a crush on for years.”

JJ rolls his eyes, trying to cover up the blush forming on his cheeks. “I don't have a crush on her,” he says in an attempt to convince his friend. “I just think she's nice to look at.”

This was a complete and utter lie. Despite growing up in Kildare, you weren't very well known on the island, most people didn't pay you a second glance. You didn't really partake in the typical shenanigans of the teens on this island, and you always felt invisible to your peers.

But JJ saw you.

He had seen you every day in gym class Freshman year, every day in biology sophomore year, and every day he didn't skip in English junior year. And now that summer had rolled around, he couldn't help but come to the bakery just so he could see you more. JJ not only thought you were a living, breathing angel, but he also adored the way you were always so sweet and kind to everyone you met. How could he not have a crush on a girl like you? You were like a cold that he couldn't shake, not that he ever wanted to. But in his mind, a girl like you would never go for a guy like him.

Watching you talk to one of his hookups made him oddly guilty. He knew he shouldn't, but hooking up with random girls was the only way he could think to take his mind off you. Clearly, that didn't work, because here he was, yet again, staring at you through a window.

“Dude, you're so whipped,” Pope said with an eye roll. “Just go talk to her.”

JJ’s eyes widened. “Absolutely not.”

Pope scoffed. “You're telling me you've never even talked to the girl?” he asks incredulously. “JJ, bro, you're a goner.”

“You say that like it's easy,” the blonde says, dramatically gesturing his arms.

With another eye roll, Pope puts both hands on the other boy's shoulders. “Okay here's what you do,” he says and JJ listens intently. “Walk inside the store, go up to the counter, and you fucking talk to her.”

JJ pulls away. “Dude no way,” he exclaims.

“Okay fine,” Pope says. “If you go in there and talk to her, I'll give you all my delivery tips for a whole week.”

JJ looks at him. “A week,” he asks unconvinced.

“Fine. Two weeks.” They shake on it and JJ prepares himself to go inside.

The idea of even talking to you makes his stomach queasy. God, Pope is right, he is whipped.

After a few minutes, JJ tells his friend that he is ready and Pope pats him on the back before pushing him towards the entrance encouragingly.

You looked up to the door when you heard the bell ring, signaling someone entering. You were shocked to see the same boy you had been talking about moments ago. You make eye contact with his big blue eyes, getting entranced for a second. Pushing away your negative impression of the boy, you offer him a sweet smile.

JJ looks down at your lips, then back up to your eyes and without a word. You wonder why he isn't moving further into the shop, but before you can ask what is wrong, he turns around and walks right out the door.

Once outside, Pope comforts the boy with a laugh, telling him “next time” and they walk away from the shop leaving you utterly confused.

The next day, JJ drags John B, Pope, and Kiara along with him to the bakery, telling them that he needs “extra support”.

“C’mon man,” John B says with a shrug. “(Y/N) is way too nice to shoot you down,” he adds jokingly.

Kiara elbows him in the stomach. “Don't listen to him, JJ,” she says, shooting John B a glare. “Just be yourself.”

JJ nods, feeling confident as he walks through the bakery doors, but the second he sees your radiant smile all his courage flies out the window and he quickly walks back out the door.

This cycle goes on for three more days. JJ walks in, sees you, and leaves. You are becoming annoyed with the boy's actions, wondering if he is playing some sort of stupid prank on you.

It is Friday night, a few minutes before the bakery closes, and JJ decides that enough is enough. He needs to talk to you and he needs to do it now.

You are wiping down the display cases when you hear the bell ring.

When you turn around, you see JJ. Before he can say anything you glare at him. “Are you kidding me,” you say, sassily. JJ didn't even know you had a sassy bone in your body. “You've come in here every day this week and you look at me and then walk out,” you lecture him, “Seriously, just order something.”

“I-I,” JJ stutters but he can't get a word out in his shocked state.

Closing your eyes you try to regain your composure. “I'm sorry,” you say, your voice softening already feeling guilty about raising your voice at him. “I didn't mean to lash out on you.”

JJ shakes his head, softly smiling at your kindness. “No it's me who should be sorry,” he says remorsefully. “I probably confused you so much. I just- I think you're really beautiful.”

His words shock you. JJ Maybank thinks you are beautiful? You didn't even know he knew you existed before today. This had to be a prank.

You softly pout at him. “That's not very funny, JJ,” you say, looking anywhere but his eyes.

“What?” he asks, confused.

“It's not funny to play me like that.”

JJ frowns at your accusation, heartbreaking slightly. “I'm being honest, (Y/N). You are really pretty.”

You narrow your eyes. “I'm not sleeping with you just because you called me beautiful,” you say.

The blonde boy blushes hard. Clearly, you knew of his reputation, and he hated himself for it. “I don't want to sleep with you. Well I mean, I do, but- shit,” JJ cuts his rambling short, noticing the scowl on your face. “What I meant to say is that I want to take you on a real date, and hold your hand, and kiss you goodnight n’shit.”

To say you're shocked is an understatement. “How do I know this isn't some elaborate joke,” you ask him warily.

“It isn't, I promise,” JJ says honestly, but the look on your face doesn't change. “Last year in English you sat in the second row, three seats from the left and you got A’s on all your papers because you are a good writer. In Mr. Hills biology class you fell asleep almost every day and you would always drool a little bit on your notes. In gym class Freshman year you hit my friend John B in the face with a basketball and you didn't stop apologizing for like three weeks. Trust me (Y/N), I've had a crush on you for a long time.”

By the time JJ finishes his speech, your jaw has dropped. You didn't think anyone at that school even knew your name, let alone JJ Maybank.

“I-I honestly don't know what to say,” you tell him. “You have a crush on me? You, JJ Maybank, the one guy I told myself I would never fall for?”

You didn't know it, but every word that falls from your mouth is like a knife to JJ’s heart.

“But I couldn't help myself,” you add, causing JJ to perk up a little bit. “I get girls in here all the time whose hearts you broke, but still, I see you living your best life with your friends and I can't help but want that with you.”

“Go out with me,” JJ says with a mouth splitting grin on his face, “Please. You can wear something nice and I'll bring you flowers pick you up and take you out to a fancy restaurant.”

You can't help but laugh at his outburst. JJ is pretty sure that his heart stops at the sound and he wants nothing more than to make you laugh every day for the rest of his life.

“I'm a simple girl, JJ,” you say sweetly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “You don't have to spend a bunch of money on me.”

“You're worth every pen-” you cut the boy off by holding your hand up.

“How about you grab some pizza and I'll grab some dessert and you can pick me up and take me to a picnic on the beach,” you suggest.

JJ looks at you and nods his head like an obedient puppy.

“Okay, it's settled. Now get out of the bakery so I can close up,” you say with a giggle, playfully shooing him away.

The blonde quickly moves to leave. “I'll pick you up at 6?” he asks sweetly from the doorway.

You nod. “I like pepperoni,” you call out with a chuckle as he backs out of the door, a big smile on his face.

JJ Maybank has a crush on you.

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masterlist

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slytherinnbitch · 3 years

Text

Day 7: Proposal

Since this marks one week, this is going to be extra long!

"Goodbye love," Draco says as he leaves Grimmauld Place a little late.

Harry was dressing when he left him in the room, he casts a tempus charm just outside the door. It's almost noon, Salazar knew why Harry didn't even bat an eyelid at his late morning.

He apparates to the Maya Magal in London, it's apparantly the best place to get engagement rings and both Pansy and Hermione vouch for it.

A handsomely dressed woman, probably Draco's age, greets him at the door and takes him inside.

"What would you be looking for today, sir?" she asks politely.

"Engagement rings, thank you."

"Do you have any choice or maybe a reference picture?"

"No, just something light and simple would do. He doesn't like heavy jewels or jewels for that matter." Draco says, belatedly realising that he used the masculine pronoun instead of the neutral one, Hermione had told him that Muggles didn't always see eye to eye with same gender relationships like Wizards and Witched did.

But the lady doesn't even hesitate before giving him a smile and leading him towards the middle of the store. She starts showing him a myriad of rings- all of them elegant and classy with intricate designs but nothing that would suit Harry.

After almost four hours of looking at almost each and every ring in the shop, he picks a simple band which a mixture of platinum and gold with tiny diamonds adorning it's edges. He immediately knows that this is it.

The lady smiles at him again, not a single sign in her face saying that she is frustrated or annoyed that Draco took such a long time.

"Would you like to engrave something on the inside?"

"Yes sure." Draco replies, he instantly knows what he wants. In the end, the lady- Lara tells him to come back in two hours for the ring to be ready and he thanks her and gets going.

A tempus charm shows him that he has about three hours to get home before Harry starts to suspect anything and that's plenty of time. He apparates to the cementry in Godric's hollow.

"Hello," he greets James and Lily as he sits down beside their grave on the ground, "So I wanted to ask you for Harry's hand. I know it's an ancient practice and well, you are dead but I want to do this right. I was raised this way and I'm rambling."

He takes a moment conjure some flowers before he starts talking again, "So I want to marry your son. Why should he marry me? I don't know that. Merlin, I don't even know why he loves me. Me, who is an angry arsehole to everyone and who never smiles. Weasley's definition not mine, just so you know. I can tell you why I love him though? Maybe that will be enough to convince you both. Harry, he has always been my guiding star. I don't know how but even in school when we were at each other's throats, he had been someone constant, someone always there. No matter in what way, just there. And afterwards, the war where well you know things happened and I was so bloody naive but he was there as well. He had been my only hope back then, that Harry might be able to save all of his from the doom which was Vol-voldemort. And he did, he even initiated the house unity in Eighth year and then we got seperated because of our careers and look at us now. Both working at the Ministry and even our departments are connected, somewhat. I'm an Unspeakable, you see. You would know that Harry is Head Auror but not about me. I don't know when that star, that hope became my everything. Slowly, but consistently. We grew closer and I can't imagine a day without him anymore. At the end of the day, I need to be around him else I can't fall asleep.

It's been almost twelve years since the war but some scars remain. I'm really hoping that you would look past those and forgive me and accept me as your son's husband-if he says yes that is. Maybe this is all in vain, Harry might just say no and that will be that. But I'm trying not to focus on the negatives right now. Thank you for your sacrifices and thank you so much for giving this world such a kind hearted, selfless person. Thank you for my Harry." He finishes at last, his eyes are slightly tinging but that's alright. No one's here to see him like this anyways.

He talks to them somemore, about everything about him and Harry and how much he loves him and how he would never let Harry feel like he did throughout his childhood and how he plans on proposing Harry on the anniversary of their tenth year together.

Its about 6pm when he leaves the graveyard and goes to pick up the ring.

.........

As soon as Harry hears Draco call out his goodbye, he takes out his notepad from under the socks in the drawer and checks everything he needs to do in order for everything to be perfect tomorrow.

Pick up ring

Ask the parents

Check in with Hermione and Pansy

Order the flowers

He makes goes to the Wizarding Jewelry Place first and asks for the ring.

"Yes, Mr. Potter. The ring is ready and just how you asked it to be. I'll bring it right out," the old man says, who Harry got to know was the owner of the shop from Pansy.

He comes out after several moments and in his hands is a small jewelry box, with intricate golden work over the black satin. The man opens the box and shows Harry the ring, it's perfect with its platinum and gold band and a heavy diamond in the middle of it, he checks the inside and yes, the inscription is just how he had wanted it to be.

He thanks the man and hurries to Wiltshire after making his payment.

He apparates just outside of the Manor gates, after all these years it's fairly easy to enter. The Manor has transformed drastically, and Narcissa and surprisingly, Lucius's warm welcome behaviour had helped immensely.

He had been shocked when he met Lucius as Draco's boyfriend for the first time since the war, it had been after two years of dating Draco and he had been invited over. Gone was the bigoted, slimy bastard he knew, this Lucius was still as much of an arsehole but not the same one. They were not friendly exactly, but he liked to think that he and Lucius got along nowadays. Well it's almost been eight years so he guessed with time anything was possible.

The gates opens to him without any sort of hindrance. Just as he was going to knock on the door, Mipsy opens it and pokes her head out.

"Mipsy is here to greet Harry Potter. Who does Harry Potter like to meet? Master Draco isn't here today."

"Yes, Mipsy I'm aware that Draco isn't here. I'm here to meet Lucius and Narcissa actually." He explains, Mipsy nods her head and vanishes with a small pop, only to return twenty seconds later, and asking Harry to follow her to the parlor.

"Harry, dear. What do we owe this pleasure to?" Narcissa asks as he enters the room.

"Sure you haven't lost your way here? Draco doesn't live here any longer." Lucius says at the same time.

"Yes, Lucius I haven't lost my way and I know Draco doesn't live here any longer, since you know, he lives with me now," he retorts back- Merlin it's weird enough calling Lucius by his name in his head, it's weirder when he says it out loud. "I actually wanted to ask for something."

"See Cissa, I told you he had ulterior motives after all," Lucius says as he looks over Harry suspiciously.

"Oh Lucius, why don't we hear out the young man before you start with all your nonsense." Narcissa says and she waves her hand towards Harry in a way to tell him to continue.

"I want to ask for Draco's hand in marriage." Harry blurts out, the silence that follows is deafening. He looks from Malfoy to the other, both of them seem to be in an intense conversation which is being spoken through their eyes.

It's Lucius who breaks the silence at last, "Why do you want to marry our son? Why should we allow you?"

"Because I love him, I know it can't be as simple as that but that's the gist of it. I love your son with my whole being. I can't imagine a day where I can't see his face or without his insults which have somehow become a constant as well. I tried to find the many reasons for which I should deserve to marry him, I can't find one. But I want to, I want to be deserved enough to marry Draco Malfoy. I want to make him happy for the rest of his life and I want to do this right for once, that's why here I'm asking permission for his hand because even though it doesn't matter nowadays. Draco loves tradition and for him, this is of great significance and I want everything to be right this time." Harry finishes and when he looks over at them, because he had said most of that looking at the carpet, Narcissa's eyes a bit glassy and Lucius who never shows emotion, is actually beaming at him.

"Very well then, Harry. You have both our permission to marry our son and we both would be honoured to welcome you into the Malfoy family. I...I might have been wrong about you afterall." Lucius says and coming from him it's high praise. He is glad both of them and he tells them so and both of them smile fondly at him. They make him stay for tea and afterwards wishes him luck as he floos to Diagon Alley to meet Hermione and Pansy at the new cafe.

"So you got the parents blessings then?" Pansy asks as she takes a sip of her firewhiskey mixed coffee.

"Yup"

"And you have the ring?" Hermione questions as she sets down her wine glass. Seriously is this a cafe or a pub?

"Right here!" He shows them the ring and they coo over it for a minute. "Is this place even a cafe or is that just for the name?"

"It's a cafe and bar, of sorts. They provide a mixture of normal drinks but add alcohol to it. You should try the vodka and peach drink. It's absolutely perfect." Pansy answers as she calls over a waiter.

"No thank you, Pans. I have to go back to my boyfriend who shouldn't even suspect that I have been anywhere but work today. Do you have anything non-alcoholic?" He directs the last question to the waiter who has come.

"Yes, right about everything can be non-alcoholic or purely alcoholic as well. The mixtures are just out speciality."

"Oh then....you know what give me a vodka and peach drink. I deserve it after spending an entire afternoon with two Malfoys." Harry says. The waiter suppresses his amusement and goes to get his order.

Pansy and Hermione snicker at him, "Oh shut it. As if you both wouldn't do the exact same."

They are still chuckling as he discusses the details of the date he had set up for tomorrow. Nowhere public because neither of them liked that, so instead he had picked up a picnic spot for tomorrow night. It would be great fun to propose in the middle of night with only the moons and stars providing them light.

Pansy and Hermione were incharge of setting everything up and they would also be telling Draco that it was a joint anniversary gift to them and they had informed Harry as well. It was the perfect ploy and no one would suspect a thing.

"Alright, the two of you. Enjoy your night, go home safely. I need to get going if I want to make it home before him." Harry says as he gets up and kisses both their cheeks one by one.

"Ron and Blaise will be here shortly so you need not worry about it, darling. We'll be alright on our own till then." Hermione says back and Pansy adds,"Draco never comes home early so you needn't worry about it."

Seriously these two are in so much sync that it terrifies him at times.

He steps out of the cafe and on a impromptu decision apparates to Godric's hollow instead.

...

Draco apparates directly inside the Manor Gates after picking up the ring.

Tabota greets him and tells him that his parents are in the third floor parlor. He makes his way quickly-he doesn't have much time left, he needs to be quick now.

"Hello, love. What a pleasant surprise!" Mother says as he enters.

"Hello Mother," he says and then nods towards his father, "Father,"

"Actually I'm in a bit of a hurry right now. I wanted the Malfoy signet ring." Draco says, getting to the point quickly.

"But I can see you wearing yours, son." Father says.

"Yes I know. I'm- I'm proposing Harry tomorrow." He announces and he is confused by their identical expressions of surprise and then repressed mirth. He didn't except that.

"Is that so?" Father says as he tilts his head, "Very well then, I'll go get it." He leaves the room and Draco is left with his Mother.

"I'm so happy for you, my darling." She says as she comes closer and hugs him.

"Well, I hope he says yes, else..." Draco replies as he hugs her back.

"Oh I'm sure he won't." Father replies as he enters the room. That was surprisingly quick.

"Here you go, son. I'm sure Harry would be quite delighted." He hands Draco the ring and engulfs him in a rare hug as well. Draco can't believe it, his parents approve. Not that he didn't know that, but it's different to know that so explicitly.

"Thank you. I need to get going now. Goodbye." Draco says, his parents murmur their byes and he apparates directly to Grimmauld Place.

Harry's yet to be home, so he decides to hide his ring and take a long bath.

Tomorrow is going to be perfect!

@cupofsquirrelfan hope you like this!

Day 6: Braid || Day 8: Tattoo

Part 2 and Part 3 of Proposal

Requests open || Let me know if you want a part 2 of this

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