#-a care because your momentary happiness is whats most important... but it can be sad and frightening and most of all lonely sometimes

[fairydust-stuff]

I wish more adaptations/ retellings would play with the darkness already there. East of Kensington did a fantastic job. Michels line still chills me " You're selfish, you've always been selfish."

you don't need to write a dark deconstruction of Peter Pan where he's willing to kill people and his state of eternal childhood makes him morally ambiguous, JM Barrie already wrote one and it's called Peter Pan

[archduchessofnowhere]

Love your posts, they are amazing. How was the relationship between emperor franz joseph and his youngest daughter archduchess marie valerie? There were rumors about valerie being count andrassay's child though people later stopped the slader do you think it made franz treat valerie differently from his other 2 children. Did he neglect her due to this rumors. I would like to hear your personal opinion as well along with the facts

Thank you so much! Despite the rumors Franz Josef and Valerie had a good and loving relationship, though they weren't as close as they could've been. Elisabeth was very possessive towards Valerie when she was a child, always terrified about her health (probably because of the trauma of loosing her first daughter to an illness), openly telling her that she was the only person she loved and her sole reason to continue to live. Since she was her mother's companion for most of her childhood and teenhood she couldn't have a particularly close relationship with her father - but she adored him and would've much preferred to stay in Vienna with him than to travel with her mother. After an argument between her parents regarding her well-being she wrote in her diary:

What I most wanted to do was fall at his [Franz Josef's] feet and kiss his paternal imperial hands, even as I felt — God forgive me — a momentary anger at Mama since her unbridled love and exaggerated, groundless concern place me in such an embarrassing and false position.

That she wanted a close relationship with her father can also be seen in another entry from 1884:

For more than an hour I sat next to him, quiet as a mouse, while he worked and smoked. It must have been important, for he looked up only once, and that was to remark, "But you must be terribly bored," to which, of course, I answered impetuously, "Oh, no, Papa, it is good to be sitting here…." "A pretty pleasure," he said and continued working. The poor man! As I saw him sitting so patiently before this pile of papers, without a word of complaint… how every man in the state always pushes the cares and sorrows away, always higher and higher, until finally everything comes to the Emperor-and he, who cannot send it higher, accepts everything and works everything through patiently, personally caring for the welfare of each and every one. How wonderful it is to have such a father.

Franz Josef doesn't seem to have treated Valerie with less affection than the rest of his children, and if anything, he seem to have been more affectionate towards her than his son:

How different, how courteous but selfconscious Papa is with them [Rudolf and Stephanie] as compared with [his behavior to] me! Surely that is the reason for Rudolf’s jealousy.

(Not that it's that surprising giving how much his relationship with Rudolf had deteriorated, but still).

After Valerie married Archduke Franz Salvator and formed her own family, her father visited her often. Unlike Elisabeth, who never was truly confortable in the role of grandmother, he was a loving grandfather who loved to play with his grandchildren. The emperor spent the Christmas of 1894 with his daughter and son-in-law (Elisabeth was in Madeira), of which Valerie wrote:

Papa arrived at noon … It was a very nice Christmas Eve, even though Papa's presence did not make it quite so informal, but again we were especially happy with the feeling that he, the poor thing, was really enjoying this family celebration. [The next day] When he's [Franz Josef's] not working, he spends almost the whole day with the children and does everything Ella [Elisabeth, Valerie's two-years-old daughter] wants when she gets him something: grandpa this, grandpa that.

But the relationship between father and daughter wasn't without its strain. After Rudolf's death Elisabeth was practically never at court, and the emperor fell into a sad a lonely life. Valerie describes his visits as sometimes awkward; simply put, Franz Josef doesn't seem to have felt truly confortable with Valerie's family, and neither did she:

not to know whether one should talk about our misfortune or about distracting things, to try in vain to find subjects of conversation of the latter kind, to wish the children to act natural... and yet tremble that their shouting might irritate Papa — to see him now sink into dull unhappiness, now being nervous... How well I understand now that being in Papa’s company almost crushed Mama. Yes, it is difficult to be with Papa, since he has never known a real exchange of views. I know how deep his feelings go and how deeply he suffers and stand powerless before all this woe, with no other weapon than the traditional routines.

The one person that could really cheer up the emperor in the absence of his wife was the actress Katharina Schratt, but Valerie didn't approve of her father's friendship with her and had been very much horrified both by her father's apparent indifference to the rumors surrounding them as well as her mother encouraging the relationship in the first place. A month after Elisabeth's death Valerie wrote in her diary:

Every morning Papa takes his walk with Schratt, whom I was also repeatedly forced to see and embrace — not with my heart — and yet I think her in herself — that is, aside from the people who cling to her — a harmless, loyal soul. — With fear I think of Mama’s wish, expressed to me so often, "when I die Papa should marry Schratt". In any case, I wish to remain passive, cannot act coldly to her in view of Papa’s true friendship with her, would find it unjust and cruel to sour this comfort for Papa — but do not consider it my duty to abet him.

He probably didn't marry Schratt, but did consider her his only friend, and only after he and Katharina had a fell out that lead him to become deeply depressed did Valerie understood how important the actress was in her father's life.

But even with their differences Valerie always remained loyal to her father, and was in his deathbed when he died in 1916, aged 86-years-old.

Now on my personal opinion, first of all I've always thought that Valerie was the child that resembled him the most, specially if you compare her with the portraits of his father when he was a teenager:

So without even considering how it's literally impossible that Andrássy was Valerie's father (in all the years they knew each other he and Elisabeth were alone only once in a short carriage ride), I think there's no doubt that she was the emperor's daughter. I would say that the person that was affected by the rumors the most was Valerie herself, since she always held a deep dislikeness not only towards Hungary but also towards Andrássy himself. And if Franz Josef wasn't closer to her wasn't out of neglect, but simply because Elisabeth monopolized Valerie, whom despite being raised to be her mother's daughter, always longed to be her father's daughter.

SOURCES:

Archduchess Marie Valerie of Austria (1998). Das Tagebuch der Lieblingstochter von Kaiserin Elisabeth von Österreich (1878-1899)

Hamann, Brigitte (1986). The Reluctant Empress: A Biography of Empress Elisabeth of Austria (translation by Ruth Hein)

[leighlew3]

Friendly neighborhood blob here again. I'm not from the US. So I have no real clue what Thanksgiving is about 🙊. But I do understand holidays get complicated when you're going through what you're going through. I've been through something like that a couple years back and I remember a very dull and sad Christmas. Just here to say much love 💜. I hope you're taking care of yourself. And I hope you're having a good time with your cats and your work and everything, all things considered. I hope you get at least some sense of momentary peace among all the craziness. Take care Leigh.

PS : The tattoos are cool.

Thank you so much for your kindness. 💜

It’s true, the holidays have been especially hard. But it’s to be expected, I suppose. And I’ve been working with my therapist on all of this because the first holidays (or any holidays and special days but especially these first ones) after losing the most important person in your entire life can definitely f*ck you up. Grief is truly a b*tch.

I was actually doing adequately “ok” lately but then all last week and these days leading up to Thanksgiving, I was crying every single day, missing Mom. But when I spoke to my therapist about it because I felt frustrated and like I was going backwards to a worse time or whatever, she made the great point to me that you can’t look at those things as a setback. That all of this is like a journey and it’s going to be up and down but just because the darkness hits again doesn’t mean that you’ve reverted back or that you’re getting worse or that you’re not making progress with the grief. If anything, the fact that you can have those really dark moments again, but still keep going and not crumble and not slip into self harm or whatever else… shows progress overall. So, yeah it truly is a process. I tend to be somebody who likes results and to fix things, etc. And tbh, I foolishly viewed grief as if it was something to conquer, and then move on from. But the reality is there’s not really any getting past it entirely. It’s always there. The pain of loss, missing somebody… it’s always there. Just like trauma. You just learn how to live with it more and more over time. 

Anyway, I got to spend Thanksgiving with my nephews and some friends/found family. I may not have hardly any family anymore, and I actually have no immediate family anymore, but I have a lot of people in my life that are truly good human beings who truly care, and I’m super grateful to have them. And this includes random strangers to emerging friends on the Internet like yourself, who have been so kind through all of this… the community around here and on Twitter and within the fandom, etc who have given me so much love and support during the worst time in my life. I can’t even express the gratitude properly, but I’m sending a huge thanks to all. Truly.

So, yeah, I’ve just been trying to focus on my nephews, my friends, my writing and a lot of exciting things that are happening around it, and yes, my two bat crap crazy cats. 😂💜

Lastly, thanks! I waited a significant portion of my life to finally get tattoos, alas I’m glad I did because I’m really happy with them, as they turned out great and mean a lot to me…

P.S. It is very true btw that if you get one, you’re going to want more. I now have three and there’s a fourth one I’d like to get soon, and who knows beyond that. 😅

[nejibaby]

Time

Pairing: Sanji x F!Reader

Summary: Time is such an essential variable for a pirate cook like you. But outside cooking, you try your best not pay attention to it, most especially when it comes to the past. And yet because of the unpredictability of the Grand Line, you’ve come across someone from your past who you desperately wanted to forget. This incident makes you realize that despite how much time passes, sometimes feelings don’t really change.

Song reference/inspiration: Don’t You by Taylor Swift

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: It’s done! It’s finally done! I had this idea for quite some time now and I’m finally done with it. Imagine my relief. 😌 I liked how this turned out! But please let me know your thoughts about it… 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

There are a lot of oddities in the Grand Line. Among the concepts that are too complex to be explained are the drastic changes in the weather, the crazy magnetic fields of islands, and devil fruit powers.

What doesn’t change is the concept of time. In all technicality, time is what the clock reads. And regardless of your location inside or outside the Grand Line, it’s set on stone. There’s sixty seconds in a minute, sixty minutes in an hour, twenty four hours in a day, seven days in a week, and so on. It’s a fact that’s definitive, irrefutable, and beyond dispute.

And as a cook of the Kid Pirates, time is one of the essential variables, alongside temperature, in bringing dishes to life. That much you learned and mastered from the years you’ve been observing chefs in a certain restaurant in East Blue before you ran away to the South.

However, outside the kitchen — or to be more precise, outside cooking — you don’t pay too much attention to the time and dates, similar to your Captain, Kid.

You and your Captain would need Killer to inform you about preparing banquets and feasts for birthday celebrations for crew members, or to remind you of other important dates.

While you’re completely capable of keeping track of time, you didn’t want to and wouldn’t bother. What’s the point, really? It’s just that you didn’t want to be reminded of just how long since you ran away from the chefs who took you under their wing. You didn’t want to be reminded of just how long since you’ve last seen a certain curly-browed cook who you fell in love with but unfortunately got turned down from.

You’re entirely fine by saying it’s been a while since you’ve last seen those people. There isn’t any need to label a precise quantity of time since that moment in your life. It’s all in the past, and you have long learned to keep yourself busy so as not to be reminded of them in any way.

After all, remembering them always leads to pangs straight to your heart, and as a member of the Kid Pirates, it’s highly discouraged to wear your heart on your sleeve and show vulnerabilities like that.

Since leaving Baratie, you moved along with your life. You worked at a local restaurant in South Blue and somehow ended up meeting Kid and Killer. With Eustass Kid being impressed with your skills in the kitchen and the air of authority you exude while working, he demanded you join their crew. And in all honesty, it didn’t take too much convincing on their part as you too wanted to travel the world, and perhaps find All Blue, a dream you shared with the man you fell in love with.

Pledging loyalty to Eustass Kid is one of the decisions you could never regret. Ever since joining the crew, they have become masters of being subtle in their ways of showing they all care for you. And it’s only evident by the way they’re all overprotective of you (even if you’ve pretty much mastered self defense and the art of using a gun) simply because among the group of brutes, you looked like a lone flower — splendid, precious, and delicate. And due to that, traveling the seas with the Kid Pirates is particularly enjoyable for you; dangerous, sure, but enjoyable nonetheless.

On account of the unpredictability of the Grand Line; more precisely the New World, you have learned to always be ready to face anything. But maybe you aren’t as prepared as you thought you are.

Because somehow, in between gathering food supplies alone for the crew and fighting against a group of Marines who found you, you came face to face with the cook you desperately wanted to forget.

And to make matters much worse, when you quite literally bumped into him, you’ve already been shot twice by the Marines, leading you to lose your consciousness right in his arms.

For some reason, with how huge the Grand Line is, you have never taken into consideration the probability of meeting him once again. And this unpreparedness unsettles you right away. So when you wake up in the Straw Hats’ sailing ship, all bandaged up and weak from the loss of blood, you’re quick to show hostility as a defense mechanism.

But that facade doesn’t last long, your mask easily slipping after a day with the crew, showing your naturally gentle and sweet side to everyone except to a certain man named Sanji. Ultimately, it’s quite impossible for you to remain hostile and aggressive in the presence of such nice and hospitable characters, especially when they kindly offered to drop you off to the next island and allowed you to contact Kid to let him know about your predicament.

You do, however, isolate yourself from the Straw Hats as much as possible. The only time you allow yourself to be in everyone’s presence is during meal times. As a chef, you know well enough that food is at its best when served right away and eaten in the presence of company.

But you aren’t dumb. You know the dishes served by Sanji aren't purely coincidental. With just one look at the table, you could easily recognize all of your favorite meals — meals that reminded you of the days when you had fallen in love with him. It’s blatantly obvious that some of the foods on the table are made especially for you.

This is where your reservations come in. After all, the reason why your favorite foods were your favorites was because they’re what Sanji used to cook when you’re upset. And because of your feelings for him, the food would always make your heart full and happy. And to be honest, you didn’t want to remember that feeling.

Moreover, you didn’t want to give Sanji the impression that everything’s fine between the two of you. You also didn’t want him to think that you’ve forgiven him for turning you down, and proceeding to step on your heart by letting you watch him flirt with other girls.

If you were any other person, you probably wouldn’t even touch the meals he made to prove these points. But you’re a cook, and it’s against your morals to let food come to waste. The most you can do so as not to give Sanji the upper hand is to stop yourself from eating as much as you usually would, regardless of how delicious the food is.

You can tell it’s working from the way Sanji’s lips are slightly downturned as he watches you only take a nibble of your favorites while consuming the other meals that are meant for the other crew members. This goes unnoticed by the others though; they’re too enamored with the new variety of dishes on the table to even pay attention.

This goes on for a few meal times, but you have to admit that despite only taking a few bites of the dishes you used to love, they’re still capable of bringing back the memories of your past with Sanji, maybe not in full force, but it’s enough to disconcert you.

On your third day with the Straw Hats, after seeing him fawn over Nami and Robin, the tension between you and Sanji becomes a little too overwhelming for you to the point where you feel the need to hide in the crow’s nest to calm yourself down.

When you get there, you’re surprised yet relieved that Zoro isn’t there. You instantly take a seat facing the window. You relish the silence. But it’s only momentary, broken by the sound of someone knocking on the door.

Rude as it may be, you don’t acknowledge the person. Whoever it is still enters the room anyway.

“Y/N-chan, can we talk?”

You hate the way your heart starts wildly pounding again just by the mere sound of Sanji’s voice.

“I thought we’ve established the fact that I don’t want to talk to you,” you respond coldly.

This doesn’t discourage Sanji though. “If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. But will you please listen to me?”

You frown, but you remain silent. Sometimes, most especially at times like this, you wish you could hate him. But that’s just something you can’t do no matter how hard you try.

He takes your silence as a good sign, so he sits himself beside you.

You aren’t looking at him, but you can feel his eyes on you. This lasts for a few minutes, Sanji just gazing at you without uttering a word.

You didn’t mean to count, but by the second minute of silence, you snap. “What? I thought you wanted to tell me something? Why aren’t you talking?”

He looks away and clears his throat. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just… it’s been five years since I last saw you.”

His statement takes you by surprise. Has it already been five years since you left Baratie? And more importantly, was Sanji keeping count?

For whatever reason, Sanji chuckles. He faces you once again and smiles, “It’s been five years but you still look as gorgeous and radiant as ever.”

As always, Sanji has a way with his words. The compliment makes your heart beat impossibly faster. But you know you shouldn’t fall for his words. “Sanji, don’t. Let’s not go there,” you say with a sigh.

He visibly deflates at your response. And it makes you want to take back what you’ve just said. “What have you been up to?” He tries asking, his voice low enough you almost don’t hear him, as if this conversation hurts him just as much as it pains you.

You didn’t really plan on responding. The agreement was to let Sanji do the talking and you do the listening, but you can see his sad expression in the corner of your eye and it tugs your heartstrings a little bit so you reply, “I’m a pirate now.”

“You are?” He perks up upon hearing you responding. “Who’s your captain?”

You finally face him, wanting to see his reaction. “Eustass Kid.”

His face instantly contorts into displeasure. “Kid?” He asks once again. When you nod your head, there’s a different look on his face, almost like he’s angry or he’s annoyed. “Why Kid? Don’t tell me he forced you to do it?! That bas—”

But before he could even finish his sentence, you pull out your gun and point it at his head.

He’s taken aback by your speed and the look of determination in your eyes.

“Watch your words, Sanji.” You cock your gun. “Just because we’re on speaking terms doesn’t mean I won’t shoot you. You can call me bad names if you want, break my heart like you did, but if you say one more bad thing about my captain, I won’t hesitate on putting a bullet through your head,” you threaten.

Sanji gulps, raises his hands in surrender, and nods his head.

Yet you pull the trigger anyway. Sanji could only close his eyes once he sees your finger move.

But there’s no impact at all. When he tentatively opens his eyes, he sees you putting away your gun in its previous location.

You’re well aware that you have no ammunition left, having used them all up when you fought the Marines, but sometimes even an unloaded gun is enough to intimidate and scare someone into submission, and to get your point across.

Silence envelopes the crow’s nest after that incident. Sanji isn’t afraid of you per se, he’s just a little bit surprised with the change in your attitude.

For a moment the thought of you having feelings for Kid passes through his mind, and he internally gets upset with the thought. In fact, he hates it but he doesn’t let it dissuade him from trying to make amends with you.

He allows you to have a couple more minutes of silence. But when he has decided that it’s time for him to talk, the first thing he blurts out is, “I missed you a lot when you left.”

His confession breaks something in you. You didn’t like the way you equally liked and hated hearing this from him. “Sanji, don’t…” your voice cracks and your vision blurs. “Don’t smile at me. Don’t ask me how I’ve been. Don’t you say you’ve missed me if you don’t want me. Don’t get my hopes up, because you don’t know how much I love you still. Just don’t…”

“Y/N-chan…” he calls out to you, his hand hesitantly reaching out to you. And when you don’t protest, he pulls you into a hug, rubbing his hands gently on your back.

Sanji hates seeing you like this — so defeated and broken, all because of him. He didn’t like seeing you cry. But right now he knows he needs to explain himself. “I liked you too back then…”

You pull away in shock after hearing his words, wiping the tears in your eyes. Just as you’re about to ask why he turned you down, he continues, “But the old geezer was against it. He says if I couldn’t stay loyal to you, then I’d only hurt you more and make matters worse.”

What Sanji was saying makes a lot of sense. Zeff highly respects women, which was why he couldn’t turn you away when you had nowhere else to stay. And knowing Sanji, you can tell just how much he looks up to him, despite him always talking back to the older chef. It’s only natural for him to heed Zeff’s words.

“I was young and I didn’t think I was ready yet, so I turned you down as gently as I could… and when you said it was fine, I was so relieved. But then you left without a word and I… I just… I really did miss you all these years.”

“What about now?”

“Huh?”

“Do you still… like me?” You ask meekly.

Sanji smiles, which makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. “I do, but…”

You sigh sadly, “But?”

He looks over the window, and you follow his gaze. The sight of Luffy being chased around by Usopp on the deck welcomes you. “My loyalty still lies elsewhere.”

You immediately understand what he’s trying to say, and for the first time since you arrived in the Thousand Sunny, you genuinely smile. “Someday, then?”

Sanji faces you once again, and reciprocates your smile. “Yeah. Someday.”

[chaoticallysapphic]

Oh my heart part two

Summary:  Lin never expected to have a soulmate, in a world where your mark appears whenever your soulmate is born she grew up completely blank. So when she’s thirty and it finally etches itself around her arm, she vows to never be with the one meant only for her.

A/N: one more part after this! Originally I just wanted it to be a two parter but it feels better this way. 

Word count: 3k

Korra was becoming overbearing with her concern for you. Once you come back to air temple island she was there waiting to rant about a theory she had regarding Asami’s father. Usually, you’d reply and give good advice, unlike Pema’s, and would remind her not to get too worked up. But instead, as she opened her mouth to begin her rant, you broke out into tears. You wouldn’t tell her why, you were too embarrassed about the rejection of your soulmate to confess, even though it would help put Korra at ease to at least be in the know. She’d probably hunt Lin down and start some kind of fight with her regarding what happened. 

“Korra,” you say one night when you both are lying in your separate beds in your shared room. “Have you met your soulmate?” 

“I don’t know, I’ve kept it covered” she replies softly, she props herself up on her elbow, her eyes narrowing in the darkness, which you don’t notice. “Even with all these new people we’ve met?” your voice is soft, almost a bit hesitant of your inquiry. 

“I like Mako, but I’ve seen his mark and it’s not what I said to him, I don’t want to confuse myself by looking” she sits up fully, “Is that why you're so sad, did you meet yours?” 

“They didn’t want me..." You roll over so your back is facing your sister. Korra tries to pry it out of you, her voice laced with quiet rage but you simply squeeze your eyes shut and tune her out. 

The next morning, Korra doesn't leave your side, she tries multiple times to get the truth out of you, but you always tell her to drop it and walk away. Later on, she reluctantly leaves to do some avatar stuff and asks Pema to keep you company. Pema was nice and in moments like these when you wished your mom was around to comfort you she was the second-best thing. Both of you are sitting at a table, teacups in your hands as the laughter of the kids can be heard from out the window. 

"Korra told me what happened" Pema finally breaks the silence, it knocks you out of your thoughts and you harshly set the cup down onto the table, some of the contents of the cup sloshing out from the sides. "That was between us" you spit out. 

"Tenzin tells me a lot of things and he's a man so I don't think he's pieced any of it together but… " Pema purses her lips and sets her teacup down onto the table, gently. "It's Lin, isn't it?" Sadness trickles down your throat and wraps itself around your insides, suddenly the door you'd hastily locked to keep yourself from crying in front of anyone busted open, and with it a tidal wave of tears. Pema pushes herself up off the floor and sits down next to you, albeit it takes her a few minutes to get there in her pregnant state. She wraps her arms around you and pulls you in tightly. You let your head fall onto her shoulder as you weep, your shoulders shake as the feeling of loneliness rocks you to your core. 

“She doesn’t want me,” your voice is muffled but Pema hears you perfectly, she shushes you, running her hand soothingly through your hair. For what feels like hours all that can be heard is the sound of your strangled breaths and Pema’s humming. She slowly pulls away from you, panic rises in you and you try to stay within her arms but she places her hands on your shoulders to keep you from doing so. 

Her hands reach up to your face, wiping away the tears that continue to seep out of your eyes. “I think part of Lin’s hesitation has to do with me,” she begins, your brows furrowed in confusion but before you can ask any questions, she continues “A long time ago Lin and Tenzin were together, he hadn’t met me yet but I knew he was it, even without having spoken to him. So when I saw him pulling away from her, I finally made my move and admitted I was his soulmate, the woman who could make him happy.” 

Lin and Tenzin?... jealousy bubbles up in your throat which you try to push down, that was forever ago but maybe, she still loved him. Maybe that was part of the reason she rejected you. Pema pulled you out of your thoughts, brushing some of your hair out of your face in a motherly way. “I think because of that, she doesn’t think anyone else can love her.” 

“But I’m her soulmate” you respond, sure you didn’t love her yet but you knew you felt something, ever since your discovery at the arena you’ve dreamt of being wrapped up in her arms once more, to be so close to her you can see every detail in her gorgeous green eyes. These dreams that fill you with pain and longing when you wake up, feel so unattainable now due to her swift rejection. 

“Lin is a very confusing person, I think you need to try again and show her you won’t take no for an answer.” Pema’s words swirl around your mind as you try to think up a plan, her advice she gave to Korra a few weeks ago may have been bad but this seemed like it might work. If not then at least you wouldn’t stay awake at night wondering what if. 

                                                          ------

Before you can even formulate a plan on winning Lin over, Korra drags you off to help her with something important. She’s talking a mile a minute while Naga weaves past mobiles and dodges anyone who enters her path. The sun is high in the sky, marking that it's roughly midday and families are walking down the sidewalk together, couples are hand in hand, laughing about something the other has said. A part of you wonders what it might be like if Lin does decide to give the two of you a shot. She doesn’t seem like the kind of person to show affection in public, but what about behind closed doors? 

Due to how fast Korra is talking along with you getting lost with the idea of Lin, you don’t pick up a single word she’s been saying, so when the polar dog finally stops in front of a warehouse that is in the middle of getting raided, you're a little confused, to say the least. You both climb down and walk towards the entrance where Tenzin and Lin are talking, that childish feeling of jealousy hits you at the sight of them talking and you mentally scold yourself for it. Tenzin is happily married to his soulmate, you remind yourself. 

“Found anything?” Korra calls out, catching the attention of the two master benders. Lin’s eyes land on you and for a split second a look of sadness and pain crosses through her features but she quickly smothers it down with her usual scowl. It seems only you notice that momentary slip up as Tenzin begins telling you and Korra, even though honestly you aren’t listening, about whatever has gone on since she’s been gone. 

Apparently, Korra believed Asami’s father to be an equalist which seemed a bit far fetched, he did sponsor her pro-bending team, right? But you trust your little sister and so when they find his factory to be empty, you place a gentle hand on her shoulder to offer her some form of comfort. 

“It would appear Hiroshi is innocent” Lin finally speaks up with her arms crossed, since that first glance when you arrived, her eyes have been set on Korra. It stings to know she’s ignoring you but right now is about helping your sister and getting to the bottom of this. Asami waltzes up to the four of you with Mako by her side. “Okay, you did your search. Now you can all leave.” Korra ignores Asami and walks off to talk to Mako, leaving you alone. 

“I can’t believe your in on this” Asami says to you, for the most part, you’ve stayed out of Korra’s drama, only lending her advice in private and helping her out when it came to equalists or Tarlock. You let out a sigh and look away from her gaze “she’s my sister Asami and she wouldn’t do something like this without reason.” 

“Well he’s my father and he’s innocent, your sister is dragging him through the mud over a misinterpreted conversation” she fires back. Asami glares at you, taking a step closer to you to most likely try to get you all to back down. Before you can even think up a retort Lin, surprisingly, speaks up. “Ms. Sato, during these hard times we can’t leave any stone unturned, the warehouse is empty so you don’t need to worry about us anymore.” 

Asami walks off with Mako’s arm slung around her shoulder and Korra all but storms back over with a defeated look on her face, you side glance Lin, who isn’t even paying you any attention anymore. She was probably just trying to keep a fight from breaking out, you tell yourself, she doesn’t care about you. But then Pema’s advice rings through your head, louder than the self-deprecating thoughts and you try to remind yourself that maybe Lin does care about you, hopefully. 

After talking to the mystery man at midnight who ends up giving valuable information involving Hiroshi, a plan is set in place. You're all in a police force blimp, if not for the situation at hand you’d be marveling at the machinery with unbridled joy. You’ve never been on something like this before, sure the South Pole isn’t behind on the times but they don’t have any form of aircraft. “Raiding the Sato mansion is risky with Tarlock breathing down your neck. If we’re wrong-” 

“I know. I can kiss my job goodbye. But protecting republic city is all I care about. We can’t let Amon get his hands on this new weapon” Lin says, effectively cutting Tenzin off. You stand a few paces behind them, fiddling with your hands as you eavesdrop on them. You want to get to know her, and Lin’s words offer you a piece of information regarding her personality and life without even meaning to. She’s a good person, she might have hurt you but she’s good and that warms your aching heart just a bit. 

There are so many horror stories of people's soulmates being monsters, of being chained to someone who doesn’t treat them right that at least the universe decided to spare you on that front. You shake yourself of your thoughts, now is not the time to lose yourself over Lin, and soon enough you land in front of the Sato mansion, once inside Asami puts up quite a fight over her father's innocence which you don’t blame her for. If the roles were reversed you’d probably have already gotten physical with whoever tried to hurt your dad. 

The workshop behind the house is small and empty, the policemen try to find any sort of nefarious plans hidden in drawers or boxes but once again come up empty-handed, the confusing part though is how Hiroshi is also nowhere to be found. There isn’t a connecting room where he may be and there aren't any windows he may have left from. “Chief, the estate has been secured, no one has left since we’ve arrived,” an officer tells Lin.

“Perhaps we just couldn’t see him leaving” she replies as she walks over to the center of the room, you step to the side as Korra had sort of stepped in front of you protectively when you entered the workshop, to see what she’s doing. What she does next you’ve heard of but never seen, many talk about the way Toph Beifong revolutionized earth bending, not only by learning to bend metal but also with her aseismic senses. She bends the metal off her foot and slams it down onto the ground. Lin closes her eyes and for a few seconds remains completely still. 

“There’s a tunnel beneath the workshop running deep into the mountainside.” Your eyes widen at the discovery, maybe sometime in the future, if you and Lin do work it out you can gush about how much you admire her bending abilities, how truly powerful she is. Asami interrupts your daydream with her denial of such a thing, you do admire her loyalty to her father and his innocence and you honestly don’t want to see her reaction if he is an equalist. 

Lin effortlessly bends a piece of metal from the floor and slams it into the wall, showcasing a staircase that leads down, just like she said. You grab onto Korra’s hand knowing she probably wants to race down immediately to find out what lurks below. “Maybe you don’t know everything about your father,” Korra says in an apologetic tone, looking over at Asami, “I’m sorry.” 

Lin orders the officers to go down first and as you make your way to the stairs, Lin stops you. “Uh-uh, you four stay up here, officer so-” you scoff, going to push past her but she clamps a hand down onto your shoulder. “That includes you too.” 

“I am not letting my little sister go down there without me, I can handle myself” You shrug Lins handoff and push past her to make your way down the stairs, her voice stops you as you take your first step down. “I’m the chief of police and I am order-” you look over your shoulder at Lin who looks completely composed, it irks you that right now she’s trying to control you, acting like she has some sort of say over your actions. 

“Yeah and I don’t care, family trumps law enforcement” you reply, effectively ending the conversation. 

“Wait, does that mean we can go down to?” you hear Boin ask from up above, Lin barks out a no as she follows after you, most likely scowling no doubt. On the tram that speeds downward, Lin approaches you with her hands held behind her back, she’s still scowling from earlier, but her expression softens just a fraction when you look into her eyes. 

“Stay in the back and out of trouble” she orders, Korra and Tenzin are on the other side of the tram, out of earshot. You push off the railing and take a step closer until your chests are touching, maintaining eye contact with her. Lin’s breath catches, which pleases you and offers you a bit of hope. 

“If Korra needs me I’ll do what I must to protect her, even if that means being in the frontlines,” you say defiantly. Lin sighs, her scowl diminishing. “You shouldn’t care anyway, remember? This, us, isn’t a thing… unless you’ve changed your min-” 

“I haven’t, I want you out of the way because you’ll be a nuisance to the mission if you end up hurt or in need of help,” she says, taking a small step away from you before stalking off. Your shoulders sag, oh. Pema’s encouraging words seem so quiet right now, you could really use another pep talk from her right about now. For a second it seemed like maybe she’d caved, maybe she’d finally admit at this moment on the tram that she had feelings for you and wanted to give it a shot after this raid. Your hands clench as you try to squash down any oncoming tears and sigh. 

The tram lurches to a stop and you stumble forward a bit before catching yourself. You can’t let Lin be right, can’t give her the satisfaction so you square your shoulders and march out after them. An audible gasp leaves you at the sight ahead. Korra was right, all day it seemed like a wild goose chase but in front of you is a large warehouse that has banners hanging from the ceilings with Amons face on them, fear crawls through you at the memory of being electrocuted at the arena, of the explosion and Korra almost dying too many times to count.

The center of the warehouse is empty, but what lines the walls are towering, mechanical… statues? You squint in confusion at the contraptions “and I’m guessing those are the new weapons” Korra states. You take a step forward from the group but Lin grabs your forearm and pulls you away from the statues and has you stand behind her. A part of you wants to yell at her, claim you aren’t a nuisance or useless, but now doesn’t seem like the time. 

“Hiroshi was lying alright, but where is he?” Tenzin asks, and as if answering his question a large metal wall shoots up from beside you, Lin pulls you away from it and if not for her you probably would have gotten killed as it slams into the roof, locking you guys inside. You look up at her and she immediately drops your arm, tearing her gaze away from you and composing herself once more. Lin steps forward and tries to metal bend the wall back down, but nothing happens, not even a slight tremor, green lights flash on within the statues as they come to life, Hiroshi’s voice suddenly surrounds them, he must be talking into a microphone. 

“I’m afraid you won’t be able to metal bend that wall, Chief Beifong. It’s solid platinum.” The statues make a loud whirring sound as they start to move away from their respective spots and glide towards the group, effectively cornering them. “My mecha tanks are platinum as well. Not even your renowned mother could bend a metal so pure.” 

“Hiroshi, I knew you were a lying no good equalist. Come out here and-” 

“And do what, young avatar? Face the wrath of your bending? No. I think I’ll fight from inside here, where my odds are a little more… equal” he cuts Korra off. Your eyes widen, not hearing what Lin says as he shoots a metal hook out of his tank's hand, you all jump away from it but the other tanks keep moving in on you. 

You look around for any kind of water source, for a moment it seems like a fruitless attempt until you feel it, you whirl around and notice the metal pipe against the wall. You run-up to an officer and shout “I need you to break that pipe for me!” He stares in confusion for a minute before following your pointed finger and realizing your intentions. He rips the pipes open and water comes flooding in, you hope there's some kind of drain around here or you might have just doomed you all. 

There’s no time to worry though and you bend sharp daggers made out of water and aim them at the tank closest to you, it whirls its face around to stare at its attacker and starts to advance on you, but you bend water around its feet and legs, then freeze it. While it’s immobile you send more frozen daggers at it, this time aiming for its chest and two finally penetrate the metal, causing sparks to fly out of its chest as it whirs, you bend water into the two holes, completely breaking it. Without a second to lose you move onto another that the officers are holding down with their wires and do the same to its chest. A loud crash is heard behind you and you whirl around to see that the tank Lin was on fell against a metal beam and onto the floor. 

Your heart squeezes in fear until you see her standing on top of it, completely fine and a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in finally escapes with a strangled noise that probably would have embarrassed you in different circumstances. In your moment of distraction, the officers you helped had moved onto another tank, and you watch in horror as it electrocutes them by using their metal wires. The officers shout in pain as they spasm out of control before dropping to the ground.

That same tank advances on you quickly, you stumble back, slipping on the ice you had created for the first tank and fall onto it with a groan, your head slams down onto the ice and pain begins to spawn from that same spot but you can’t stop now, you can’t be a nuisance. Out of the corner of your eye, you see another one shoot its wire out at Lin and slam her against the wall. “Lin!” you shout, your eyes widening as she doesn’t move. Next Hiroshi’s tanks knock out Korra and soon after Tenzin, you're the only one awake and the tank chasing after you finally stop but doesn’t make a move to hurt you. 

Hiroshi’s tank swirls around from its stance in front of Tenzin and charges at you, you bend water around the floor in front of you to create ice in hopes of stopping his advances, your starting to feel weak from the wound at the back of your head. 

“I have plans for you,” Hiroshi says through his tanks microphone, it comes out a bit staticy due to the attacks but otherwise it moves like it’s still in perfect condition. You try to bend daggers at him but you can’t throw them far enough to hit him, they all fall at his tanks feet and a mocking laugh echoes through the warehouse. Something warm trickles down your neck, you hesitantly raise a hand to the back of your head and when you pull away your met with blood, it drips off your hand and onto the ice. You can’t beat them all, not alone and not in your state. 

The ice begins to melt due to the heat of the room and Hiroshi shoots out a wire of his own, your heart gives out as you know what's about to happen, you close your eyes as you wait for the inevitable and are shortly encased in shocking pain, it's worse than last time, so much worse and you think you might have screamed, you're not entirely sure due to being disoriented from the millions of sharp pinpricks you feel in your bones. All to fast you once again succumb to the pain and your eyes give out. 

[jangofctts]

Madness (Poe Dameron x Reader)

Rated: Explicit

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Smut, handjobs, language, sex, creampies, Poe Dameron is a warning in its self, slight description of blood/injury 

A/N: sorry that this is a day late y’all. I'm v sick and high on nyquill yehaww brothers

This is not your fault.

Oh, Stars, but it is.

You bury your fingers, blackened with motor oil, into your hair and fold into yourself. You wish you could disappear. Wouldn't that be a fucking miracle and a half? You spare another glance at the destroyed droid and with a despaired wail, you bury your face into your knees again.

What the fuck were you thinking?

See, it started out fine, like most things do. But of course, like always, it turned out to be a real garbage fire. No, not even that. It was worse than a garbage fire. All you wanted to do was help out, and with the slowly dwindling amount of pilots available, you are pushed to the side. No pilots, no mechanics.

Droid maintenance is not your forte, but Kaydel Ko had specifically asked for your help and of course being the blubbering mess you are, you couldn't say no. All it took was a sweet, helpless smile and then boom! Here you are, stuck with a First Order droid with a processing chip all but fucking obliterated.

You thought it'd be easy to rewire the little BB unit, but the spunky little thing had its very own arsenal of weapons. Your legs and hands are a mess of electrical burns and tiny slashes that sting much worse than a papercut and steadily ooze blood. It would absolutely not stay still, so you resorted to a makeshift prison made out of duct tape and bungee chords until you could sort of pry into the droid's mainframe. You toyed with one wire at most and the droid spun its little head around, knocked the tweezers clean out of your hand, tore three more wires and with a disheartening woop; exploded in your face.

You aren't really thinking straight the moment you decide that hiding the blasted thing would be a grand idea. So, with your face covered in black soot and your hands bordering being numb, you scoop the destroyed droid up and sprint out of the base. You do have some luck, you figure. You run into nobody in the hallways leading outside; no one to see your absolute disaster that you plan on chucking into the dense forest.

You beeline towards the X-Wings and just as you think that you'd finally, finally be done with this whole mess, your worst nightmare appears.

Poe Dameron in all his neon orange jumpsuited glory steps out behind the body of his X-Wing. Right in your path of destruction. It's inevitable, really. The first syllable of watch out is barely out of your mouth before he even comprehends you're there and then you're crashing into him, faster than fucking lightspeed.

The resounding 'oof'  as you barrel into him will no doubt haunt your dreams, and you have just enough time to watch as the droid bounces on the ground, spraying sparks everywhere, then disappear into the underbrush, before Poe collapses on you. At least one of your problems is solved.

"What the hell?"

You would ask the same thing, but the entirety of Poe's weight focused on your back is doing a splendid job of crushing your lungs. Your hand shoots back and slaps at whatever it can. "P-poe! Can't breath!"

"Aw, shit. Sorry, kid."

You heave in precious air once he unravels himself out of the pickle you've put yourself in and before you know it, he hooks an arm underneath your armpit and hauls you up. He takes one good look at you, up and down, and has to bite his lip to keep his smile away. Not like it does much good.

"You—uh—ok, kid?" He coughs, trying real hard.

You throw your hands up. "Oh! Go ahead and laugh! That's all I'm good for anyway!"

What little pride you have left rapidly dwindles but as his shoulders shake in uncontrollable laughter that morphs into one of those laughs where you can't breathe, you can't help but smile yourself. Poe's glee is contagious (even if you are the butt of it) and you're glad you can give him some comedic relief. The days are getting darker, more friends are dying, and it's harder to put on a smile, even for Poe. It's a rare and special moment to provide some momentary happiness.

Eventually his chuckles taper off. He's folded over, clutching his stomach as tears shine at the corners of his eyes. "You—you!"

Another fit of giggles consume him after taking another peek at your face. "Wha—what ha-happened?"

You huff and cross you arms over your chest. Try as you might to appear irked, a lopsided grin still lines your face. "That is none of your business."

Poe wipes at his eyes and stands, his chest still heaving. "You're the one who tackled me. The least you could do is tell me."

"I did not tackle you," you scoff. "You were in the way!"

He's still smiling as he shakes his head. "Yeah, whatever. Kaydel Ko asked you to rewire that FO droid, right?"

You grimace. "No."

He raises a brow and ruffles your unruly hair. "Sure, kid."

Poe takes a glance at where the droid launched into the trees and points. "C'mon, I think it went over there."

To your horror he seizes your upper arm and drags you forward. Oh. nonononono. You dig your heels in but Poe is persistent and you're quickly coming to terms with your impeding doom and ridicule, so you let him take you.

It's easy to find. The droid is still smoking and sparking, looking oh so sad nestled between a tree and a large fern. Poe starts laughing again.

"The hell d'you do to the poor thing? Run it over with a pod-racer?"

"Something like that," you mumble.

Poe scoops it up and the damage looks even more devastating when he's holding it. You chew your lip and sigh as he hands it back. "Thanks, I guess."

With an amused 'mhm' he once again places a hand on your shoulder and wheels you out of the forest. You don't mean to tense up (a force of habit really) as his thumb whispers over your shoulder blade, but the damage is done and his hand drops. You want to wack yourself with a stick.

You pause by his X-Wing. "Hey, I'm sorry for, y'know tackling you. Also, th-thank you..."

He flashes you a smile and shrugs. "No biggie, Sparky."

You scowl. "Don't call me that."

That pulls out another laugh and then he's staring at you. Those big brown eyes, so warm and deep like the richness of the soil, capture yours as if they have their own gravitational pull. All grasp on words slip your mind and you're left to wrestle with your tongue into saying something. Why is he looking at you like that?

"I can help."

You blink. "What?"

"With the droid, I mean," he offers. You swear you can see the skin underneath his collar flush red. Poe Dameron blushing. Hm.

You have absolutely no clue why you agree, but his bright smile is enough to launch your heart against your ribcage.

"Great. I'll let Kaydel know we'll have it done by tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" You squeak. Fat chance.

Before you can argue, he ruffles your hair again and shoots off. "Meet you at 1900 in maintenance!"

You glance down at the droid. The hole in its head sparks. "Oh, Stars."

                                                   =-=-=-=

You're pacing by the time 1850 rolls around, your stomach a mess of knots and twists. You don't want Poe Dameron to help you. In fact, you don't want him here at all!

You're clean at least. The black soot covering your face was a bitch to scrub off and there's still some of it hiding in the lines of your skin, but it's the best you can do. Not that you care. Well, you shouldn't care what Poe thinks. You know each other—scratch that. You know him from the years spent in the Resistance, because, well, he's Poe Dameron. As for yourself, you're 99.9 percent positive the only reason he happens to know your name is because there's only fifteen of you still alive following the aftermath of Crait. Kinda hard not to know your fellow survivors.

You never minded it. You're used to being alone, pushed to the side where you could blend in like a shadow. Really, it's the only reason why you managed to escape the First Order. No one paid you half a mind when you slipped inside that ship and piloted away. Well...you were shot at shortly after, but that's not important.

You're not paying attention--lost inside your head again when the blast doors swoosh open. You don't even fucking see him until you collide head on for the second time today. With a strangled yelp, you both stumble and trip over a flailing limb here and a hidden wire there. The whole debacle ends up with you smacking the back of your head devastatingly hard on the duracrete floor and with Poe's entire weight once again crushing down on your chest cavity.

"Holy shit, Sparky," he groans. His head is nestled in the crook of your neck and if you weren't seeing stars spinning in your fucking orbit, you'd have the decency to be embarrassed. "You trying to kill me?"

"Un-Unsuc-successfully," you wheeze. "How-how m'I doing?"

He pulls away just a fraction, hovering so close that you feel his nose brush against yours. "A for effort. Though, I don't think you're really cut out to be an assassin. Might wanna reconsider that career path."

"Agreed."

Fuck. Your head is pounding. You don't even get to enjoy the way Poe feels pressed against you, or how good he smells. Maker, he smells good, something warm and woodsy, but fuck, you are in so much pain. Are you bleeding? You're pretty sure you're bleeding.

"Did you hit your head?" He asks, his plush lips twitching into a frown. He still hasn't moved from the current position of lying between your legs and it makes everything worse.

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine," he huffs. "I heard your head smack the ground, Sparky. Lemme see it."

Poe peels himself off of you and tugs you into a sitting position. You reel and squeeze your eyes shut as nausea punches through your gut and the edges of your vision go a bit fuzzy. Damn, you really did not plan on getting a concussion today, nor have Poe Dameron be the one to patch you up.

He sits behind you and as his calloused fingers sweep across the back of your neck, you tense up. Poe hesitates then, his fingertips ghost above the skin, barely there and you try to relax. Years spent in an organization where corporal punishment is encouraged will surely make one hesitant of touch and try as you might, it's a hard habit to curve.

"I'm just checking to see if you're bleeding," Poe says softly noting your tension. "Is that ok?"

You nod and wave his concerns away. "Yeah, s'fine."

He cradles the back of your neck in one calloused palm while the other gently cards through your hair. He sucks in an audible wince and icy panic floods your veins. He must sense your apprehension because his thumb unconsciously begins to rub tiny circles onto your skin.

"Don't freak out... But you have a teeny, tiny cut," he tells you. "Microscopic, really."

You're gonna die. Maker, you're gonna die because of that stupid fucking droid. You're going to smash that fucker into smithereens even if it's the last thing you do. You try and move, eyes locked on the piece of junk across the room, but Poe is hurriedly pushing you back down.

"Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa!" His hands are like metal clamps on your shoulders and you grunt in irritation. "Just sit. I'll go get a medkit. Nothing a little bacta won't fix."

He's right. You're overreacting, but that droid's beady little eye seems to sparkle with smug satisfaction at your demise. You glare and swear revenge.

Behind you, Poe runs to the wall where the kit hangs and hurries back with the spray on bacta canister. You barely feel it coat the back of your skull and then he's done. "See, I told you. It's already healing."

"Wow, thank the Maker that the joke of the Resistance is saved," you sigh. You reach up to touch the dully throbbing area but Poe smacks your hand away. "Ow!"

"Don't touch it." He chides.

You roll your eyes and turn your head to face him and jut a thumb over your shoulder, "How long do I have to wait until we get to fixing that piece of shit over there."

Poe blinks, glances at the droid then back to you. "I dunno, half an hour?"

"Half—Poe! Are you serious?" You hiss. "We're going to be here all night!"

The pilot has the audacity to shrug. You want to throttle him. "It's not like we have anywhere to be."

You open your mouth to protest, but once again he's right. You scowl and glare at the frayed laces of your boot. This is officially, the worst day you've ever had.

A prolonged silence, a bit awkward and filled with your obvious irritation, blankets the room. Poe has enough sense not to prod at your buttons and settles down to your right. Your head is starting to feel much better at least.

It continues like this. Neither of you speak for the better part of ten minutes and then, quietly, almost to too quiet, he says;

"You're not a joke, y'know."

Your brows furrow together and you pause. You look up and he's got that warm, familiar look again and it only brings a dull ache that eats away inside your chest. Part of you wants to agree, but that dark and nasty other part that lurks deep in your chest lashes it's claws out at the thought. He doesn't know you—doesn't know the pain you've been through. You don't want his pity.

You look away. "I...I don't think you know who I am, Poe."

Your teeth bite the inside of your cheek as you pick at the skin along your fingernails. You can feel his eyes crawl over your face and you do everything in your power not to catch his eye because tears are starting to prick at your eyes. Maker, why are you crying? This situation, in its entirety, is beyond stupid.

He says your name, your full name and the air in your lungs seizes. "I know you. You were a Lieutenant in the First Order before you came to us. I remember the day you arrived too."

You spare him a glance and he smiles.

"I remember 'cause that janky Xi-class you were piloting was blasted to hell and you somehow managed to park it without killing anyone. And then—this is my favorite part—you walk out, still in your uniform and you go 'I do hope I don't have to pay for parking'. And then you collapse face first onto the ground." Poe's chuckling as a blush flushes up to your ears. You recall. Vividly.

You snort and rub at your chin. "It wasn't all that amazing."

"Sparky, you stole a First Order ship and flew to a Rebel base. That's pretty ballsy."

You shrug.

"I also remember that time you tricked out Jess's rig with those mods. Me and Snap were jealous for weeks. And that time you spilled caf all over Leia's datapac. Remember that?" Poe says. His hand inches closer your knee. "And when you gave her that replacement one, all those ads about male enhancement pills and 'hot Twi'leks near YOU' kept popping up?"

"Arhg!" You cry, burying your face into your hands. You're pretty sure at this point you could fry an egg on your face from how hot your skin feels. "That was so fucking embarrassing. I-I can't—why would—ahg!"

"Kid, that was the funniest thing I've ever seen."

"That still makes me the butt of every joke! And I still can't even fix a droid properly!" You wail. "Or how about that time I dropped a crate of explosives? I might as well throw myself in a trash compactor."

Before you can even fucking blink, Poe's hands snatch up yours and hold them so firmly you have no choice but to look at him. "Sparky, listen to me."

You quite like the color of his eyes you come to find. A honeyed caramel, so rich that it'd take years to explore the countless layers. There's no malice, no hidden motives you can detect. Just pure, unrefined kindness and hope and—Stars, he's gorgeous.

His thumbs run across the slopes of your knuckles and it's electrifying. "You are one of the only people keeping the Resistance together."

"Bu-"

"Shut up. I'm not done."

You mouth zips shut

"You focus so much on the bad that you don't realize how much you contribute," he says with a gentle smile. "You maybe aren't the best with droids, but people? Sparky, so many of us look to you for hope. I know it's cheesy, but you really do brighten a room with your smile."

A tear trails down the curve of your cheek and he's quick to cradle your jaw and swipe it away with the pad of his thumb. "I don't know what we would—what I would do without you."

"Poe," his name comes out shaky and soft and you know he can feel your blush under his palm, "I—I...thank you."

His eyes flicker down to your parted mouth and then he brushes his thumb across the seam of your bottom lip. He leans in close enough that you can feel his lips just graze yours, warm breath fanning over your chin, and your eyes flutter shut.

"Can I kiss you?" He whispers against your lips. Fuck, he is so infuriatingly perfect, isn't he?

"Yes."  Maker, yes, yes, yes. That shouldn't even be a question.

The first kiss is fleeting. An innocent peck that flings open the gaping maw of your desire. Your hand shoots up, tangles in the thick curls atop his head and you drag him closer. He groans into your mouth, grabs at your neck and tilts your head, deepening the kiss. His tongue, hot and wet sweeps over your bottom lip and you readily open your mouth and let your tongue glide over his.

He's playful; breaking away to catch your bottom lip between his teeth, then releasing to hook the tip of his tongue into your top lip then swoop in for a lingering kiss. It's impossible to keep up—he dances to his own tune while you stumble along. There's no lack of enthusiasm on your part however and he isn't bothered in the slightest by the occasional bump of your nose or when the hard enamel of your teeth click together. Your whole juxtaposition changes, and you suddenly want to thank that dumb droid. You'd break a thousand of them if it meant you could continue forever on like this.

Poe eventually leans away, the hand tangled in your hair firm so that you're still only a hairsbreadth apart, carefully lowering himself down until you hover above him. His warm hand that leaves a burning trail down your waist, hooks around your thigh and helps tug your leg over his hips. You pull back to suck in air that's suddenly so difficult to inhale and Stars—he's a sight to see. Those lovely black curls are wild and untamed, his plush lips swollen and pouty because you won't give him another taste of your mouth. His chest heaves and your breath stutters as he plants his hands on the swell of your hips, thumb pressing lightly against the outcrop of bone there.

"Maker, you're gorgeous..." You murmur. You lean down and nestle your head in the crook of his neck, lips seeking out the soft skin above his collar. You trail your lips across the curve of his throat and as your teeth catch his earlobe then lick at the small divot behind his ear, a soft groan leaves his mouth.

"Are-aren't I the one—fuck," his hips twitch as you mouth beneath his stubbled jaw, "s'posed to say that?"

You grin and pull him into an opened mouth kiss. His tongue pulls yours into the wet heat of his mouth and sucks lightly. With a whine, your hips stutter forward as fiery heat trickles into your belly. You can feel the growing bulge in his pants, pressing against your inner thigh and shit—you need him.

Your hips rock forward on their own volition and Poe is quickly there to support as his hands grip you tighter and drag you down harder. He props his knees up and with a sharp moan and digs his clothed cock into the apex of your thighs. The fabric of your pants catches on your clit and it's good. Dry fucking Poe Dameron is a wish come fucking true, but it's not enough.

Poe's smirking as his fingers toy with the buckle of his belt. "You wanna take a ride, Sparky?"

You punch him in the arm.

"Ow!" he pouts. "What was that for?"

"Don't say that shit to me ever again."

His warm chuckle echoes through the room and sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. "What if I ask if you wanna ride my cock reeeal nice and slow? Feel how hot and tight your cunt is when you sink down onto me. You wan't me to say that?"

Paired with his voice, his strong hands grab your ass and roll his hips up into you and you're done for. You melt into his chest, whining out your affirmations and you don't care how he's already got you wrapped so tightly around his fucking finger.

"Take these off." He purrs, skimming his fingertips over the waistband of your trousers.

Somehow you manage to escape your boots and shuck your pants off through the haze of your arousal. When you return, he's got his pants halfway over his knees, pristine white shirt haphazardly torn open revealing the beautiful expanse of tan skin peppered with dark hair. You straddle his thighs, eyeing the tent in his boxers that leaves little to the imagination and the heat in the pit of your stomach swells.

Poe shoots you a coy grin and sweeps a hand down. He grips his cock, still hidden beneath the confines of his boxers, and gives it a teasing stroke. "You want me?"

"Poe," You whine. Stars, he's making this difficult.

He's smug as he slowly, to the point of teasing, tugs down his boxers with his other hand and eases out his cock. It's gorgeous like the rest of him, deliciously thick and curving towards his navel. Precum shines at the head that's flushed a deep maroon, darker than the rest of his sunkissed skin. You're mesmerized with the way he strokes himself; lazy and gentle, focusing on the head then dipping down to squeeze at the base.

His cock bounces as he lets go and snatches your hand that's lying limp over his hip. He guides it over the searing flesh and it feels like velvet covering reinforced durasteel. He swears as your thumb rubs over the head of his cock, wiping away the bead of liquid that pools there. You circle your fingers around his length and stroke down to cup his balls and he juts his hips into your hand.

Fuck. You want to suck him off. Feel him shake and twitch under your tongue and cum down your throat. Yet, as his fingers trail up your inner thigh and pass through the slick folds of your cunt, you are vividly reminded where else you want him.

"Shit," he breaths, circling your clit with the tip of his forefinger. "You're dripping."

Poe probes further, curling his fingers into your cunt, juuust pushing into your entrance until his fingers are shiny and slick with your arousal. He pulls back and you groan at the loss.

He sucks his fingers into his mouth and moans. Fuck, why is that so hot? It shouldn't be. "Can I eat you out, Sparky?"

He's digging his fingers into the flesh of your ass, tempting you closer and Maker it sounds good, but—"Later. Fuck me instead."

Poe's lips curl into a wicked smile. "Are you sure?"

His fingers return to your the soaking flesh between your legs and thumb at your swollen clit. You shudder, quickly catching his wrist. "Please."

"Fine," he grumbles. "Later."

Finally, you think as you hold his cock loosely and grind your slick folds against it. He makes a punched out sound when you raise your hips and move the blunt tip to your entrance. You slowly let him sink in, a long stuttered groan falling past his lips at the feel of your hot, tight walls stretching around his cock. Your own breath catches in your chest and you dig your nails into chest, leaving behind tiny crescent shaped dents.

—oh—shit—holy fucking shit.

His cock is catching every ridge and curve until the back of your thighs are seated on his. His eyes are squeezed shut and little gasps, as if he were in pain, are tumbling out every time you twitch around him. He's thick—deliciously so, and when you raise your hips and slide back down, his cock drags against your walls and presses in deep. You grind your hips down, catching your clit on his pubic bone and wildfire spreads throughout your whole frame.

"Ah, fuck," he moans. He gives your hips a squeeze and pulls you against him harder, guiding you into a slow, steady pace. "You fe-feel good. Knew-knew you would."

At this point you're hardly doing any work despite being on top; he has his knees propped up behind you and thrusts up into you then drags you back down by your hips. You're loosing your fucking mind like this. One of his hands drifts down and reaches for your clit, his middle finger stroking against the slick bundle of nerves and the fire in your belly quickly spreads down all the way to your toes. You're shaking, panting sharply, and Poe continues to toy with your clit paired with the even rolling of his hips.

"You gonna cum on my cock, Sparky?" Poe huffs out, grabbing a handful of your asscheek. "Yeah, just...just like that. Cum for me."

Your back arches and everything seizes up tighter than a fucking clamp, and with another pass along your aching clit, you burst hot and wet around his cock. With a hoarse cry, your core clenches and spasms through each one of his thrusts, stretching out your pleasure.

In one smooth, fluid move, Poe sits up and pushes you forward until your back hits the ground and he's towering over you. His hand is buried in your hair, cradling the sensitive area but you're still riding your high to notice the pain. With his free hand he hooks the back of your knee and folds it over his shoulder. Stars, you didn't even know your leg went up this far and when he roughly thrusts into you, the air in your lungs is sucked out and replaced with a strangled wheeze.

"You like that?"

You claw at his bicep as he kneels up and pounds down into you, hitting that heavenly spot within you. Your eyes roll back and Poe curls over you to nuzzle into your damp skin, teeth digging into the exposed skin above the collar of your shirt you never bothered taking off. His thrusts are slowly reaching the pace you need him to go and you bury your fingers in his hair and pull. His moan vibrates over your skin.

"Harder." You order. "P-Poe. I-I n-need—"

Poe digs his teeth in between the junction of your shoulder, slips his cock nearly all the way out of your cunt, then slams it back in deep. It's fast and brutal, and you can hear your flesh slap together, hear the obscene squelching noice your cunt makes from how wet you are. Your face burns in embarrassment, but he's hitting something so devastatingly wonderful that you don't really give a shit.

He's grunting in your ear, whispering praise—how wet you are and how perfect you whine and beg for him. He's plowing into you and you're close. So close to the edge again.

"Fuck," he growls, "m'gonna cum. Where—where do—"

"Anywhere," you gasp, arching into him. "In-in me. Cum inside."

Poe's hips stutter. The fist in your hair tightens and he rocks his hips into three—maybe four times before the muscles in your back stiffen and everything blurs and goes out of focus. White hot pleasure rips you apart, floods each cell with razor sharp heat as your body convulses in ecstasy.

He's hissing out swears between his clenched teeth, as his hips jolt and grinds himself balls deep inside you. Poe captures your lips and feel him pulse and throb, chest heaving, as his load, thick and hot, spurts into you and coats your walls.

Poe keeps you pinned there as his hips shallowly rock into you, savoring the last dregs of his orgasm as you catch your breath. He stills and you two lay there, filling the room with your gentle pants. Your knee slips off his shoulder and he moves to plant a lazy kiss on the corner of your mouth and pulls out. His cum trickles out after and drips down your slit but you're too spent to care right now.

He lifts his head that's resting on your sternum. "How's your head, Sparky?"

"Wha—oh." Truth is you hardly feel it now. The bacta truly does work wonders. "S'fine. Never better."

He shoots you a dashing smile, the gap in his teeth and his boyish air makes your head spin. "Wanna take me out for another spin, then?"

"Poe!"

And the droid never did get fixed...Oh well...

[frostsinth]

Royal Flush - Pt. 10

Part 1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9 - MasterList - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art (so much Art...)

This chapter brought to you in part by Morgana; Also, every additional part. She’s demanded to be co-director. There’s no way to say “No”. I’m sorry.

I was GOING to wait until tomorrow to post this. But I just finished the cliff hanger at the next chapter, and... just... really wanted to post this part.

I’m thinking that... it might end up being a 12 parter... I’m not sure if there’s anything more than part 12. I’ll know by the time I post part 11, and I’ll let you guys know. The end is in sight, and I do hope that’s ok with everyone... But buckle in. It won’t be an easy ride.

Check out my MasterList above for more stories. Want your own, or some art? DM me for details! Check out the #Royal Flush for more notes/art/blurbs about these two bumbling fools.

“Excuse me…umm, sir goblin.”

A momentary pause, followed by a polite if hesitant; “Yes, My Lady?”

“I beg your pardon, but you are the King, yes?”

My heart skipped like a smooth stone across still waters. I eased down the last few steps, walking lightly to stand at the corner. Peering around it. Grier stood with his back to me, and Morgana before him with her hands on her hips. She wasn’t much shorter than him, but still had to tilt her chin up to meet his gaze. I started to round the corner, eager to tell both of them the good news and pleased they were in the same place. But curiosity stilled my feet, something about the determination set into her youthful face, and I lingered momentarily. Not quite hidden… that wouldn’t be very Princely. But they would have to look particularly hard to make me out behind the marble pillars...

“That I am.” I could hear the tiny smile in Grier’s voice. “... Can I be of service?”

“I demand an audience then, Your Majesty.” I almost groaned at her abruptness, and studied her little face for a moment. Intelligent and fierce…. I couldn’t deny it warmed my heart.

Grier hesitated again, but then offered her a small bow. “But of course, Princess. I am at your service… Shall we sit?”

“You know who I am?” She sounded a little surprised, causing her to lose focus momentarily as she followed him to the benches lining the courtyard with a skipping step. I paced a few feet closer. From this angle I could make out both their faces from the side, as long as they were looking forward. But only Morgana’s when they looked at each other.

“Yes… Your brother speaks of you all the time.”

I saw her bottom little lip come out into that stubborn pout of hers. “You mean to say Prince Nikostratus, Your Majesty.” She corrected him, tossing her head slightly so that her soft cloud of curls bounced around her. “You must be more specific. I have two brothers, you know.”

“Yes, forgive me, Princess. I do mean Nikostratus.” I could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Prince Nikostratus.” She corrected again. “You should always use titles, Your Majesty.”

He shrugged his shoulders lightly. “Should I? I’ve never much cared for them.”

I saw another flash of surprise on her face. “... Goblins don’t have titles?”

“We have them.” He replied. “But I think they sound silly to say every time you speak to someone. Takes a lot of extra time that could be spent doing something more fun.”

She thought that over for a second. “... Oh... “ She tilted her head to the side. “I didn’t know Kings liked to have fun... So… What do I call you?”

He chuckled. “I most certainly do, at least. And Grier is fine.” His head tilted to the side. “That is my name, after all. Not ‘King’. Not ‘Your Majesty’.” The goblin looked briefly around the courtyard while she chewed that thought over. Then turned back to her. “And what may I call you?” 

“I am Princess Morgana Delarosa Marie of Geriveria.” She declared, sounding a little proud and puffing up her tiny chest. But then she hesitated, looking up at him thoughtfully. “... But you can call me Morgana, I suppose.”

“Alright then, Morgana,” He replied, and I could hear that his smile had returned to his lips, “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“...Your teeth are all pointy.”

“This is true.”

“Are all goblin teeth pointy?”

“Yes, they are.”

“Do you bite your tongue a lot? Is it hard to chew?” I could hear the curiosity in her voice building. It made me smile.

“Not more often than you might, I would suppose. And no, I can chew quite well. I rather find I enjoy eating.” He cocked his head to the side, amusement lacing his voice. “Is that all you wanted to ask me?”

“No…” She glanced down at her feet, kicking them back and forth for a moment where they dangled off the edge of the bench. “... You’re supposed to marry Niko… right?”

I felt myself stiffen, and my breath caught in my throat as I saw Grier’s head bob slightly in a small nod. “If he’ll have me, yes… Is that alright with you?”

A sudden scowl formed on her lips, and she crossed her little arms over her chest. “No. It’s not.”

I almost broke from my hiding spot at her words. But to my surprise, Grier bowed his head, placing one hand lightly over his heart.

“Forgive me. I am sorry to hear that.” He raised his head slightly. “May I ask why?”

Her scowl deepened. “Because he’s my brother. And I don’t know you! How do I know if he’ll like you? How do I know you’re not going to be mean to him?”

“Well, that is a very good point.” He mused, nodding slightly. “Perhaps if you knew me better, I might be able to earn your permission to marry him. Yes?”

She seemed to think that over for a moment. “... Yeah. That makes sense.”

“What would you like to ask first then, Princess?”

“... I can ask you questions? You don’t mind?”

“Of course! How else do you get to know someone?”

She didn’t even think about that for more than a moment. “You watch them. You listen to what they say, especially if it's not to you, and how they act. You see how they treat people who can’t give them anything.”

“That’s… very astute of you.” Grier sounded surprised.

“A tute?”

“Oh… Astute.” He cleared his throat, chuckling lightly.  “It means… wise. Observant.”

She shuffled her skirts, tilting her head to the side. “You can’t ask questions at court.” Her voice had a practiced patience to it, as if she were the one speaking to a child, and not the other way around. “You can’t say what you’re thinking. People are... mean about it.” Morgana looked up at him through her lashes. “I’m not ever allowed to speak; father says because I’m a Princess… And Val says because I’m still a little girl... But Niko taught me how to learn about people, even if you can’t talk to them.” She kicked her feet back and forth. “Niko says that I should always ask questions. Even if I’m told not to ask them out loud.” She smiled. “He says that if you have a question, you should find the answer, especially if you aren’t allowed to ask the question. He says it must be important, otherwise you wouldn’t have the question in the first place!”

There was silence for a moment, and I wondered what Grier’s face looked like. I could picture it, in my mind’s eye. Long pointed nose, heavy brow. Scarlet eyes and thin lips. But I couldn’t tell what shape his sharp features were forming. No matter how much I stared at the back of his head.

“Then your brother is… very wise.” His voice sounded warm, and my heart fluttered.

“Very a-tute?”

Grier snorted, amused. “Yes, a very astute Prince… But you can ask me questions if you want to. I promise I’ll answer them.”

I heard her soft ‘hmmm’ and almost smiled, leaning against the marble pillar as I listened quietly. I felt a little guilty, not announcing myself. Overhearing such a private conversation. But my curiosity was just too great to resist.

“Do goblins eat people?”

Grier laughed loudly at that. “Of course not! Who told you they did?”

She shrugged her little shoulders. “My old nanny told me that once. But Niko didn’t like her much. I think he dismissed her, but he won’t tell me.” She looked back at Grier. “Do you live in a castle? Will Niko have to live with you?”

He nodded. “I do live in a castle, built into the side of a mountain. And yes… I would very much like for Nikostratus to live with me.”

“Do you have any children?”

“No, I do not.”

“How about sisters? Or brothers?” He shook his head. “If you’re King, does that mean your parents are dead? My father’s parents are dead, and the court says Val won’t be King until my father dies too.”

I would have groaned had I not been making such an effort to remain unseen. Grier gave a quiet chuckle. “My father passed away when I was little, but my mother is still alive.”

“She is?” Her voice sounded curious again, then she fell quiet for a moment. “... My mother died when I was a baby.”

“I am sorry. That must be hard.”

She shrugged again. “I don’t remember her. And Niko doesn’t talk about her much… I think she makes him sad. But I don’t know why.”

“Sometimes, when you love someone, even though they make you happy, not being able to see them makes you sad.” He explained softly. “Sometimes we don’t want to talk about them, because we don’t want to be reminded that we miss them.”

Morgana nodded, kicking her legs again. “... Not seeing Niko makes me sad…” She mumbled quietly, and I felt my heart stop a little at her words. “... I don’t want him to move away forever.”

“I don’t want to take him away from you… But…” He hesitated, and I saw her glance back up at him. “... Being away from him makes me sad too.”

She thought about that. “Does that mean you love him?”

“Yes, I do.” I flushed hot at his words, at his confidence, and shifted restlessly. “... Do you think maybe we can share him?”

“Hmmm.” She looked at him out the side of her eyes. “... Do you like to read?”

He nodded. “Yes. I like to read stories and epic sagas.” He grinned. “If I can sit still long enough to finish them.”

A small smile flicked over her lips briefly. “I like to read too… Do you like to fight? What weapon do you use?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I like to fight, but I can hold my own.” He replied, leaning back on his hands. “And I like to fight with a rapier. What about you?”

“Father says Princesses shouldn’t be fighting. Princesses should be learning to dance and play instruments and other fine things.” She said, as if reciting from a book. Then she leaned closer conspiratorially. “But Niko taught me to wrestle. And Val is showing me how to use a bow.” She told him in a low whisper.

He chuckled. “Very wise of your brothers. Everyone should be allowed to learn about whatever they want. No matter if they are Princes, or Princesses... Or goblins.” She giggled, smiling up at him. “What else do you like to do?”

“I like to explore. I know every corner of this castle! And I like to climb.” She told him excitedly. “I know how to climb down from my bedroom window and over the castle wall without anyone seeing me!” She stopped suddenly, and hesitated, as if worried he would scold her.

“Well now,” He exclaimed, smirking, and her smile returned, “That is quite mischievous. Are you certain you are not a goblin?” She giggled again. “You would fit right in.”

“... What do goblins like to do for fun?”

He shrugged slightly. “It depends on the goblin, I suppose, just like it depends on the human you ask.”

“What about you, then?”

“I like to talk.” She grinned at him, and I could hear the smile in his voice and imagined he must be making a silly expression based upon the way her eyes lit up. “I like meeting new people. I like holding grand parties and learning about new places. I like to collect exotic and colorful things.”

“Have you been many places?” Her curiosity had completely flooded her face and voice now, and she leaned towards him eagerly.

“A fair few. I can tell you about them sometime, if you’d like.” He returned, then I saw his wild hair shift as he cocked his head to one side. “So? How am I doing?” She shifted, pursing her little lips again as if she just remembered she was supposed to be scowling. “... Do you think I might be good enough for your brother?”

Morgana thought about that for a second, tapping the bench with her fingertips. “I don’t know… Niko doesn’t really like any of those things.” She grinned. “He hates meeting new people.”

Grier laughed again. “I have seen that… Well, you’ve known him longer than me. What does he like?”

Her smile returned. “He likes to read, like me. He hides in the library when he wants to be alone. I think he likes it when it’s quiet, but he never seems to mind when I’m there too.” She seemed to bounce in her seat, getting more excited with every word. “And he likes riding, and fighting. The generals all hate him because he can beat them all up. He also likes playing chess. He always beats me at chess.” She tilted her head to the side, thinking. “I don’t know if he likes to, but I like when he hums. He knows a lot of songs.”

“Does he now?” I didn’t like the conspiratorial tone he took, and felt a cold wave wash through me as I wondered how the goblin might use that particular tidbit against me. “I hope I get to hear that someday.”

“He only does it when he thinks he’s alone.” She told him. “When he’s happy, and sometimes when he’s trying to do something very difficult.” Her smile nearly ate up her face. “He says it helps him think sometimes.”

“Well, I don’t believe I’ve ever heard a more sound logic.” His amusement had my face growing hot. I thought about slipping away then. Maybe going around the outside of the courtyard to the other side and pretending I hadn’t heard all this.

“...He doesn’t hum anymore.”

“...No?” 

She shook her head sadly. “He used to hum a lot when I was littler. At least when no one was around. Then he… well… He went away for a while. And when he came back, he stopped humming…”

“Where did he go?” I stiffened at his words, and the quiet sadness in them, shaking my head. I didn’t want to hear this. Didn’t want to be reminded. I gritted my teeth and started to make my quiet escape.

“No one will tell me. But father was very mad when he came back… Val says maybe when I’m older... Niko doesn’t talk about it.”

“I am sorry… It must not have been a very nice place.” I was nearly back to the base of the stairs. “But maybe we can make him happy again, yes? ...Do you think maybe...��I could make him happy enough to start humming again?”

I froze in my retreat, my heart thudding. Morgana was studying him thoughtfully when I checked back over my shoulder at them. “... Yeah. You seem nice… I think Niko would like you.” Her grin returned. “But if you want to make him really happy, you have to make him cookies.”

“Cookies?” He echoed in surprise.

She nodded. “Yeah. Niko loves fresh baked lemon cookies. And knives! Get him lots of pretty knives.” Morgana jumped up to her feet, bouncing up and down lightly. “He also likes lilies.” She skipped over to the patch by the wall, pointing them out. “Like these. Though he always says that flowers are supposed to be enjoyed where they live…” She dropped off, her lips pursing as a thought suddenly seemed to occur to her. “I think maybe he told me that so I would stop picking flowers in the Royal Gardens… He seems not to mind when I bring him wildflowers.”

“My dear Morgana, you have given me lots of good advice.” I flushed again at the grin in his voice, and could almost picture it on his lips. “I look forward to utilizing it. I should take your counsel more often. I don’t think anyone knows how to make Nikostratus happier than you.”

“Yeah well…” She slowly walked back over, sitting upon the bench once more, “... I think Niko already likes you a lot… I saw the way he looked at you in the throne room.”

“What do you mean?” He sounded surprised again, and I flushed darker, silently begging Morgana into silence. “He looked… ah… very serious.”

She scoffed, obviously not having heard my prayer. “Well, of course! You can’t let anyone know what you’re thinking; it’s like a game, but it’s not very fun. You have to put on a fake face, and then you keep that face up, until you leave. Niko’s very good at it.” She put her hands on her hips, puffing up her chest. “But I know Niko. I can see through his fake face.”

“... And what did you see?” He sounded curious despite himself.

She drooped a bit, looking up at him. She brought up a finger to bite at the nail. “When he was worried about something, he would look at you. And he took attacks meant for you, and stood in front of you when... when someone looked like they might try to be mean.” She dropped her hand. “That’s what he does for me. So that must mean he likes you. Cuz I know he loves me.”

“I see…” I couldn’t quite fathom the tone he replied with, but it made my heart flutter. I swallowed hard. There was not much more I could take of this. “So… does that mean you’ll share your brother with me?”

“I guess I have to, huh? Since he seems to like you… But you seem fun, so that’s ok...” Morgana stopped suddenly, looking down at her hands in her lap. “... Can I come with you to your castle?”

He hesitated, shifting in his seat. “... What did Nikostratus say?”

She sighed. “Last time I asked he said ‘when I’m older’. But I was thinking about it, and I am older now than when he told me that.”

Grier rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, we would both love to have you come to the castle with us… But we’d need to ask your father.”

Morgana groaned, dropping her head back. “I thought you were a King too! Why can’t you just order them to let me come with you?”

“I may be King, but that doesn’t mean I always get to do whatever I want.”

“It doesn’t?”

He shook his head. “No. It means I have a big responsibility. To protect my people. To always do what’s right for them. I have the power to make the world a better place. I can’t use that power to be selfish all the time.” He nudged her foot with his. “Otherwise I wouldn’t be a very good King, or a very good person.” I heard his smile returning. “And if I’m not a good person, I can’t marry Nikostratus…. Which I very much want to do.”

Morgana fell silent, thinking about that. “... Niko is a Prince, you know... and he’s a very good Prince.” She told Grier quietly. “But… Sometimes I think he’s too good. Sometimes…” She hesitated, and I saw his head bob to encourage her on. “... Sometimes I think everything he does … is just to make other people happy. He doesn’t do things to make himself happy…” She kicked her feet back and forth again, looking down at her once polished shoes, now scuffed with dirt. “I thought… Maybe if he wasn’t a Prince anymore… if he was just a regular adult… He might get to be happy.” She looked up at him. “Or I thought maybe… since you are a King, he could be a King. And then he could finally do what he wants…” She smiled sadly. “And I think he wants me to come stay with him. But he can’t. Because a good Prince doesn’t disobey his King…”

My heart ached, and I looked down at my feet. Feeling heavy for having laid such worries on the shoulders of my precious little sister. I had thought I was hiding it well from her. Thought I was keeping her safe, and happy… I should have known she was far too perceptive to believe those little white lies I told her all along. Though honestly… perhaps they had always been more for my benefit than hers. I rubbed at the back of my neck, swallowing hard.

“You are the light of your brother’s life,” Grier assured her, his voice soft but firm, “He told me himself. He wants you to come back with us. To stay with us…” He sighed. “The fact that he must choose between you and me is the only weight on my own happiness right now… I wish he did not. And if it were up to me… I would tell him to choose you. Because no one makes him happier than you do. And you’re right… he doesn’t do the things he should to make himself happy.”

“I’d tell him to choose you!” She argued, putting her hands on her hips. “Because I think you can make him happy too. I’ve seen it! And I’ll be a grown up soon, and I’ll go off and fight dragons and see far off places…” She looked up at him through her dark lashes, seeming far older than her nine years in that moment. “But you’ll stay with him. And make him happy when I’m gone.”

I could take no more, and composed myself. Kicking the gravel beneath my boots loudly to announce my presence.

“And where, praytell, little chickadee, do you think you are going?” I asked, my voice stern, stepping out from behind the pillars and striding forward as if I had just come down the stairs. “And what’s this about ‘dragons’ I hear?”

“Niko!” She nearly squeaked, bounding from the bench and sprinting over.

I scooped her up in my arms, hardly breaking stride. Giving her the proper hug I had longed to give her since I had first seen her at court... All the tighter for having overheard them. My heart was heavy, and my head swirled with their words. But I couldn’t keep the small smile from my face as she wrapped her arms about my neck, squeezing so tightly I had to reach up a hand to loosen her death grip in order to breathe properly. Grier stood more slowly, and I saw a small smile on his own face as he turned towards us. I walked over to him, my smile suddenly fading into a shy shadow of its former self as I remembered my last words to him. My eyes dropped to our feet, and I swallowed nervously.

“... I hope you aren’t telling the goblin King all my secrets, little chickadee?” I intoned, my voice as light as I could manage it given the circumstances. I stepped out into the courtyard proper and watched Grier sidle a few steps closer. “Though... I am glad you two have been able to make each other’s acquaintance.”

I hoped he noticed the softness of my tone. The words I didn’t have the strength to speak. I hoped the weight of my guilty conscience didn’t leak into my voice. I chanced a peek at him through my dark lashes.

“Oh, just a few dark secrets.” Grier scoffed, teasing with a wave of his hand, and I felt a little tension leave my shoulders at it. “Nothing important, I’m sure.”

Morgana giggled at the exchange, finally leaning back to look at me properly. “I like him, Niko. He’s fun, and he’s nice. Just like you said he was in your letters.”

My face flushed darker.  “W-well, if you like him, I-I suppose that is the highest accolade he can receive.” I replied, trying to pretend Grier wasn’t now grinning like a fool at my elbow. “... What was this I heard about a ‘dragon’?” Pretending that was all I had overheard.

“The Princess was just regaling me with her plans to go on adventures to far off lands.” Grier recapped, placing his hands on his hips.

“Is that so?” I looked at her and she smiled, nodding eagerly. “Hmmm. Do you think you could postpone them for a bit?” My small smile twitched with my excitement. “That is... if you still want to come back with us to the goblin castle of course.”

Her eyes went wide, and then her own lips broke into a bright toothed grin. Her responding squeal was so loud it hurt my ear drums and I winced. I would have said something, but had to instead gasp for air as she flung herself back at me, wrapping her little arms tightly around my neck. I glanced over at Grier as she bounced and wiggled in her excitement, and I saw surprise in his own face.

“You mean it, Niko?? I can come?? Father said yes??” She cried.

I had to pry her loose again in order to have enough air for a response. “Valerianus is sending for your things as we speak.” I told her, and glanced at Grier to see if he caught my wording. I saw his lips purse slightly, and my heart skipped. But then he nodded. “We can leave now, if you’re ready.” I breathed with relief, though I wasn’t exactly sure which of them I was asking.

Morgana was of course the one to answer. “YES! YES!” She squealed. “COME ON THEN! Let’s go! Ohmygosh I’m SO EXCITED!!”

I managed a quiet laugh, despite my anxiousness. She wriggled and bounced even more in my arms, but I suddenly felt afraid to put her down. As if she might dart off, or alert the wrong person to our plans. I glanced at Grier again, and he placed his hand on my elbow briefly. As much as he dared while we were here. I was surprised to find an ache forming at the thought of the goblin restraining himself. As I had learned to do. Again I found myself filled with an eagerness to leave. Be gone from these walls before they suffocated the brightness in his scarlet eyes and chiseled him into stone like me. I clutched my sister closer to me, hoping it wasn’t too late to keep the same fate from befalling her, nodding to him again.

I led the way out of the courtyard and back to the main gates. I was pleased to see the goblins appear, as if out of thin air, lining the path and following us back. I knew they must have been guarding and watching their King, perhaps even me, from the shadows. Now they emerged, their small bodies surrounding us… it made me feel a little safer. I wondered briefly how long Lord Tipp had lasted as Grier’s host, as he was of course no where to be seen, but decided that would be a question for another time. Morgana babbled a thousand questions of her own, endlessly bouncing and twisting in my arms. I still didn’t dare put her down, and tried my best to respond to her as much as I was able, as I was still consumed with worry. Afraid that my hopes would be crushed, and the light of my life would be ripped from my arms before we could whisk her away to safety.

I caught sight of Valerianus as we approached the carriage, squaring off with Damjan. I swallowed hard, my heart skipping a beat. But when he glanced over at us, he merely nodded. I felt my knees quiver a little as I slowly and reluctantly placed Morgana back on the ground. She bounded over to our older brother, beaming widely and dancing from foot to foot. My ears were far too full of my pounding heart to hear their quiet exchange. Morgana jumped up to hug Valerianus, wrapping her arms as far around his waist as they would go. His mask twitched at the edges for a moment, and he looked surprised. Then his face softened, ever so slightly, and his big hand gently stroked her head.

His eyes met mine again as she broke away, skipping over to the carriage door. I vaguely heard Damjan’s boisterous laugh, presumably in response to something Morgana must have said to him. But my eyes were focused on my brother as I approached him, Grier at my side. I stopped in front of him, mask back in place. Shoulders squared. I bowed my head in deference to him, and he snapped his heels together. Dipping into a bow as well.

“Your Majesty,” He addressed Grier, as was to be expected, “There are no words in our language that would fully express our gratitude for your aid. However, know that you are most welcome in our halls anytime.”

Grier dipped his head slightly, placing one hand over his heart. “Thank you, Prince Valerianus. I do appreciate that.” He nodded to the outer wall of the castle. “Though we must take our leave, my people will stay, until the last of your citizens have been seen to. I shall make sure one comes to see to yourself, as well as any willing members of Court.”

 The Crown Prince nodded, murmuring another quiet exchange of thanks. There was a pause, and I could see Valerianus hesitating. I peeked up at him, a little surprised, but kept my head bowed. Looking at him from just the corners of my eyes. Grier seemed to notice his pause as well, and raised a slender eyebrow. 

“Speak your mind, Your Highness. I assure you I will take no insult.”

Valerianus cleared his throat as he slowly straightened, tucking his hands behind his back lightly. Peering down his nose at the goblin with a stern expression. “I hope you will pardon my belatedness on the matter…” He started, then hesitated again briefly. “... However, I feel it is my responsibility as the elder brother to warn you to treat Prince Nikostratus well-” My ears suddenly flamed hot “-Should you fail to do so, I shall not hesitate to use all resources at my disposal to avenge any unkindness you have shown him.”

Grier’s grin was nearly unbearable, and I saw my brother shift slightly in light of it. “Your Highness, allow me to reassure you that I will do everything in my power to make sure Prince Nikostratus is treated as he deserves. You need never fear this.” He dipped his head again, and his tone became more serious. “It is my solemn vow... and my greatest wish... to see him happy.”

Valerianus nodded, his mask returning, and he bowed deeply at the waist. “Thank you, Your Majesty. For that, I am in your eternal debt.” His eyes broke protocol, flicking over to me. 

He cleared his throat again, straightening slowly. I felt my cue to rise, and did so slowly. Almost afraid to look up at him. Not sure how to feel in that moment, and feeling my entire face in an absolute blaze of heat despite my otherwise masked emotions. Valerianus nodded to me, then dipped his head.

“I shall send word when the… situation has changed, and it is safe for Morgana to return.” He told me. “And I can rest easy knowing there is no safer place for her in the wide world than in your care… brother.” I dipped my head in response, still flushed in the wake of the most tender platitudes he had ever offered me, and we exchanged a soft farewell. Then the Crown Prince gave a final formal bow, turned on heel once more, and marched back to the castle.

“You know,” I jumped at Grier’s voice as he returned to his place at my side and we watched my brother’s departure, “I’ve decided I rather like that man after all.”

My tongue felt heavy in my mouth, but I offered a slow nod. “... Me too.”

I jumped again as his hands curled around my elbow. “You’re still my favorite Prince though.” He assured me, grinning up at me like a fool. My flush renewed and my lips worked uselessly at the air for a moment.

“NIKO!” Came Morgana’s impatient shout, breaking the moment. I turned to see her standing in the doorway of the carriage. She stomped her foot for emphasis. “Let’s go, Niko! I wanna see the castle!”

I almost groaned, but settled for a small shake of my head as Grier laughed beside me. He tugged my arm, jerking his own head towards the carriage and leading the way. Damjan smirked at me as we passed him by.

“‘Niko’ is it, Your Highness?” He mused. I shot him a sour look out the corner of my eye, and he laughed as well, closing the carriage door behind us and taking up position at the rear.

Once we were settled inside, Morgana darted from window to window and seat to seat as the carriage bounced us out of the city. More than once she clambered over my lap, and I was pretty sure she stepped on Grier’s toes at least twice in her eagerness. But he merely laughed again, his scarlet eyes full of light. I wondered at that for a time. Wondered if everything that had passed since the last time we had sat in this carriage negated the lingering uncertainty I felt. Wondered if he had already forgotten how I had hurt him in that moment… I finally started to relax as the castle slowly faded into the distance, and felt a bit of the stone drop away from me as I watched my sister bound about in her excitement.

It took nearly two hours for her to settle, and another hour after that for her questions to slow. It was after sunset as we approached the walls of the goblin city, and Morgana had finally fallen into a quiet doze. Resting against my shoulder, her fingers and legs still twitching every now and then. I stroked her hair back out of her face, stifling a deep sigh.

“You can relax, my young Prince.” The King mused, leaning back against his seat.

I glanced at him, surprised. “I beg your pardon?”

He smiled, almost timidly, but no less warm. “... We’re back in our own kingdom now. You can relax. We’re safe amid our people… and Morgana is safe with us.”

I looked down at her, and felt my features soften. I pushed her hair out of her face again, and my lips twitched. “... It feels like a dream… I wasn’t sure it would ever be possible.”

“I’m certainly looking forward to seeing that more.”

Again, I looked at him in surprise. “... Seeing what?”

He pointed, his own lips curling into another warm shape. “That. Your smile… it lights up your whole face.” The goblin leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Now that Morgana is here… I hope that you can be happy… truly happy. Without the weight of her absence on you. I did promise your brother, after all.”

I peeked up at him through my dark lashes, feeling my face flush again. “O-oh. Yes… I-I mean… I mean that… th-that yes… of course I… I-I…” I stammered uselessly.

He chuckled, and his lips split to bare his sharp teeth mischievously. “I see I have you all flustered again.” His head cocked to the side. “I’ll take that as a good sign.”

The carriage came to a halt, and I quickly used it as an excuse to scoop Morgana up in my arms to avoid further discussion. Grier led the way out, and as I stepped out into the cool night I felt her stirring in my arms.

“Are we there?” She asked, blinking up at me sleepily and rubbing at one eye with her fist. “Are we at the castle?”

“Yes, but it’s late.” I told her. “We should get you to bed. You can see the castle tomorrow.”

“Nooo!” She whined softly. “I want to see-” She was halted by a wide mouthed yawn, and I shifted her in my grip.

“You’ll have plenty of time to explore. After you get some sleep.” I told her, and my voice left no room for argument.

Morgana sighed, settling back into my arms without further protest. Grier smirked, then led the way through the halls up to the tower chambers. I felt her turning her head about as we went, her eyes wide and curious despite their sleepy edges. An attendant followed alongside us with a light, and her head twitched back and forth as she tried to take in as much as she could while we walked. Even going so far as to clamber up and dangle over the back of my shoulder.

“She can stay with me tonight,” I told Grier, adjusting easily to her antics, “We’ll get her proper rooms in the morning... if that’s alright.”

He nodded. “But of course.”

“Is it a big castle?” She asked, twisting to look at the goblin King. “Are there lots of rooms? Can I have a window that looks at the city? Will I have a goblin lady to help me?”

“Chickadee,” I sighed patiently, shaking my head, “Haven’t you asked enough questions for today?”

“No.”

Grier laughed at that, pausing at the door to my chambers to glance over his shoulder at us. “It is a very big castle.” He told her, pushing open the door and stepping aside to let us pass. “I have a few young noble ladies in mind who would be pleased to be your lady in waiting. You can meet them tomorrow. And I’m afraid I can’t get you rooms that overlook the city… as most of it is under our feet.”

She gasped with delight, and craned herself to look at our feet as I carried her through the foyer. As if she could see through the stone beneath us. Seoc appeared, lighting a few candles and opening the curtains to let the moonlight in. I nodded to him appreciatively, and he gave me a cheery grin before disappearing back into the hall.

“These are your rooms Niko?” She asked, looking around as I brought her over to the bed. She frowned. “Why are they so empty? Where’s all your stuff?” She didn’t wait for me to answer, spinning to look at Grier. “Where are your rooms?” She bounded back up to her knees even as I put her down on the bed. “Are they nearby? Did you move your stuff to his room? Is that why it’s empty here? Do you sleep together?”

There was a loud CLONK as my head hit the side of the bedpost when I jerked sharply at her words. I sputtered uselessly as my face flushed and I struggled to keep my balance, rubbing at the back of my head. Over my shoulder, Grier had started laughing so hard he had doubled over. I shot him a look that he didn’t see, as he was too busy wiping tears from his eyes.

“What’s so funny??” Morgana demanded, obviously wanting in on the joke she thought she was missing. “You told me you were getting married, Niko. Married people have the same bed, don’t they?” She cocked her head to the side. “Are you sure you’re getting married? I haven’t seen you guys kiss or anything. Don’t married people kiss? Is it because you’re boys? Do boys not kiss? I thought you liked him? Niko, why is your face all red? Niko-”

“AL-ALRIGHT, that’s it!” I managed to sputter out finally, then clenched my jaw. I spun, pointing one stern finger at Grier, still bent in half in stitches. “YOU, out.” Then set my point on Morgana. “YOU, bed.”

Now it was the goblin’s turn to sputter. “Well, hold on just a moment, I’m the King here, you cannot…” He stopped short in his objection at the look I shot him. Clamping his mouth shut. After a breath, he gave me a small, sheepish grin. “I’ll just… wait outside for a minute, shall I?”

“But Niiiko!” came Morgana’s responding whine as Grier left the room, “I’m not tired at all!”

Her efforts of denial were sabotaged by another wide yawn, and I smirked a little through my flush as I removed her shoes and stockings. Placing them neatly on the ground by the side of the bed. She sighed, relenting without further fight, and fell back into the pillow. Luckily, the girl never wore anything remotely restricting, so I didn’t feel too bad about her sleeping in her current attire. I would be sure to get her a proper nightgown for the next evening, if one hadn’t been packed for her. I pushed her hair back out of her face, running my thumb by her eye. She smiled up at me, snuggling herself down into the blankets.

“Would you like me to tell you a story?” I asked her, my voice soft.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I told you, Niko, I’m not a baby. I don’t need you to tell me stories anymore... Are you going to sleep too?” A little frown twitched across her lips. “Do goblins sleep? Does the King even have a bed? Do-”

“Please, little chickadee,” I interrupted her exasperatedly, giving her head a gentle squeeze beneath my oversized palm, “Enough questions for now.”

“But-”

“Tell you what,” I stopped her again, “You go ahead and make a list, up here-” I tapped her temple “-And I’ll answer every single one of them in the morning. And any new ones you think of by then.” I smirked. “It’ll be like counting sheep. Ok?”

She thought about that for a moment, pushing my hand away. “... Ok.”

She snuggled deeper into the blankets, seeming to think things over. I watched her eyes start to droop, and she yawned again. I started to stroke her hair. Sending all my gratitude to every possible listening patron or god for letting me have that moment. I didn’t care who took credit. I was just so thankful, I needed the universe to know. 

“... Niko?”

I resisted the urge to sigh. “Yes, chickadee?”

“... You like Grier, right?” She looked up at me through her dark lashes, then yawned again. “You’re not just marrying him because it’ll make people happy, right?”

I stiffened, and my hands slowed. I thought about that for a quiet moment. And about what she had said in the courtyard to the goblin. I wasn’t sure I had ever been so clearly forced to recognize that aspect of myself before. I wanted to deny it, but... My heart ached a little, and I felt my head swirl… Did I like him? Or was it merely just the first time I had allowed myself to like someone? I knew he made my heart race, and I couldn’t fully deny the presence of a warm feeling that was beyond just a physical attraction. I had been suppressing the latter for so long; I knew it for what it was. I had never acted upon it before, or even remotely felt the opportunity to. Save for once, and it had blown up in my face… But… Did that mean I liked him?... Certainly, he was a good person… I didn’t dislike him in any way, I knew that… And I knew that was not what she meant, either.

I adjusted my jaw, realizing I had left her question hanging for far too long. So I ran my thumb lightly along her temple. And answered as honestly as I could.

 “...Yeah, chickadee… I think I do like him.”

She smirked. “I knew it... But I wanted to make sure you did too.”

I shook my head, releasing the heavy sigh I had withheld before. She giggled, then yawned again. I sat by her side, stroking her hair, until her eyes drifted closed and her breathing deepened. It didn’t take long. I moved carefully to stand, so as to not wake her, and snuck out of the room. Grier stood against the wall by the door in the foyer, fidgeting with his usual impatience. I glanced at him warily, then back over my shoulder, before jerking my head to gesture for him to follow me.

I didn’t dare go very far, but hoped standing in the doorway of the next room would be enough to keep our voices from waking her. Grier crossed his arms, leaning on the door frame and craning his neck back to look up at me.

“All settled then?” He asked quietly.

I sighed tiredly, glancing back over to the door of my bedroom. “If she ever is.” He chuckled at that, and I returned my attention to him. Reaching up and rubbing at the back of my neck. “... I’ll be staying here tonight.” I mumbled, uncertain if I needed to tell him, or what I was implying might have been the alternative had I not, and my face flushed again as I did.

He grinned, but nodded. “I assumed as much. I don’t mind of course.” He tilted his head to the side and his smile grew a little more. “I just hope the castle is still in one piece by the time I wake up tomorrow.”

I scoffed quietly, glancing back over to the bedroom. “No guarantees on that.”

“You know…” I started slightly at his hand as it came up to brush my neck. “... A little bird told me that you might like me...” 

His voice was only enriched by his light teasing tones, but I still flushed a little darker at his words. So he had been listening... I looked down at him shyly, and felt that strange surge of warmth in my chest at the sight of his scarlet eyes. I hesitated, unable to resist shuffling a little as he skimmed his thumb along my jaw.

“... A-about earlier…I mean… This morning...” I started to mumble, more than a little distracted by his hand. “In the carriage. I-”

“I understand…” He interrupted. “And I’m not mad, or upset with you... I’m…” The goblin paused, chewing over his words for a moment. “... We can talk more later, when we’ve both gotten a good night’s sleep. But… I’m glad you… I’m just glad you’re here.”

“W-well...I want t-to… to say ‘thank you’…” I stammered, my voice soft, “For-”

“Stop.” He told me, his voice equally soft. “You never need to thank me for doing things to make you happy… You never need to feel guilty for being happy, either.”

I hesitated, glancing down at the floor. Uncertain how to reply. I remembered what I had overheard in the courtyard earlier, and tried to decide how I would’ve acted had I not over heard it...  I tried hard not to stiffen, or hide behind a mask. I tried to let my guard down, reminding myself of all the times I had managed to do so before with him. And how it had always seemed to work out. Tried to forget the trials of the day, and just… enjoy that moment. If I could. His arm was extended as far as it could be to reach me, and his other came up to catch my hands wringing in front of me. I stopped, having not even noticed I was wringing them until his fingers touched mine. I peeked at him, and saw his eyes watching me quietly. Perhaps trying to read the chaos of emotions currently fighting for dominance on my face.

“It’s been a long and difficult day.” He murmured finally. “I’ll let you get some rest… But I would like to speak more about…” He stopped, and I saw him adjust himself momentarily before continuing. “...About everything…” He squeezed my hands, giving me a coy smile. “Though I suppose we have a lifetime for that.”

“Gods willing.” I agreed, almost automatically, then somehow flushed darker.

His smile grew slightly, and he stretched up even further to slide his hand towards the back of my head. I hesitated only briefly before I curled down to accommodate him, and felt my skin tingle as his fingers brushed over it. He paused, his face lingering only a short distance away from mine. I saw his eyes flick to my lips, and couldn’t help sneaking my own glance at his. The memory of our last similar encounter it the private audience room filtered to the forefront of my thoughts and had my breath hitching. I swallowed nervously. He inched a little closer, standing on his tiptoes, then stopped. Leaving me with his warm breath splashing across my face. Leaving me with the option to pull away...

But for me, there was only one option. I closed the gap, bending down to press our mouths together as carefully as I could manage. I even dared to go so far as to take a step closer to him, backing him against the doorframe and letting him rock onto his heels as my hands came to his waist and my shoulders bowed around him. His arms came up, wrapping around my neck as he deepened our kiss, and I almost shivered beneath his touch. His body melted against mine, and my eyes fluttered closed, forgetting myself for a minute. His tongue slipped between my lips, and I twirled mine lightly around it. I could taste his sigh, and felt my heart skip as he ran one hand over the back of my head.

A giggle had me startled, and quickly jerked my head up just in time to catch the tail end of a skirt flashing in the bedroom doorway. Instantly my face blazed hot, and I broke away from his embrace clumsily, staggering back a step. Setting us both off balance. Fuckfuckfuckfuck, FUCK! I thought to myself, suddenly in an absolute panic as one of my worst nightmares was realized. Then made even worse than I had ever imagined. I shook myself, reaching up to cover my face with both hands. Absolutely mortified. I wanted nothing more than to dissolve into thin air. Disappear and hide away until everyone forgot my name. My legs itched to launch me into a full on sprint and carry me away…

 But I didn’t flee, even though I wanted to. Instead, I let out a quiet, mortified groan, and bent over the goblin’s smaller form in front of me to bang my head lightly against the doorframe above his. Hands still cupped to shield my burning face. Maybe it was all a dream. And I would wake up now. For his part, Grier merely laughed, and I felt his arms wrap around my middle. I was surprised that instead of feeling more embarrassed…. My tension eased a little with his touch.

“I suppose she got her answer in the end anyways.” He teased, and I banged my head lightly against the frame again in response. He chuckled, more softly this time, tucking himself into my chest briefly in a gentle hug before he stepped back. “I should be going; I have to say… I’m rather tired.”

I eased back, peeking at him through my fingers. “Ah-a… S-ssorry…”

He reached up, catching one hand and gently pulling it away. “Don’t be. I know now you are a shy person...” His grin became sly, “... I find it absolutely endearing.” He stretched up, placing a quick peck on my lips before I could react. “Have a good evening, my young Prince… I’ll see you tomorrow… And ah… We’ll talk then.”

With that he ducked under my elbow and made his way over to the door. Casting me a final wink as he stepped out into the hall. I sighed quietly, leaning against the frame for a moment. Trying to compose myself. I heard another soft giggle, and looked up to see one mischievous hazel eye poking out from the bedroom. I shook my head, trying my best to put on a scowl, but failing miserably.

“I swear, little chickadee,” I growled, “If you say one word, you’re sleeping on the floor.”

My face flushed again as I heard a muffled laugh from the hallway.

...

UPDATE: Part Eleven HERE

[lyansi]

Summary: The year is 1947. Lieutenant Inuyasha no Taisho finds himself in the center of postwar reconstruction. Having grown up Westernized, he thought he knew himself and his family. He wasn't expecting the sudden malaise of coming to a country he knew nothing about. Falling in love with a woman he just met. Nor the very upending of his identity and culture. While the language is known to him, the customs of their world are not: the constant downcast eyes, the bows, the polite way of speaking. The waves of people looking back at him reminded him of his mother, long gone, and a history he never cared to learn.

But she is there: with her quiet smiles and quick wit. Her blue eyes hold a fierce determination of a story to come. This world couldn't be so bad if she was there.

And his mother asked for one last, dying wish. Who was he to deny such a passionate request?

Disclaimer: Rumiko Takahashi is responsible for the Inuyasha series, I only lay claim on the story I have written.

Read this work on AO3

Prelude

Mountain View, California, United States of America

April 15, 1935

My dearest son,

I hope you can forgive my absence in the years to come, for I fear that I do not have much longer on this earth. I have asked Mr. Myoga Ogata to hold off on sending this letter to you until my passing. I did not desire to be an unnecessary burden during this most important time in your pursuits. I hope you know that I wish to continue in this life— believe me, my heart and soul— but that I no longer have the strength.

Your father, whom I was death on with each breath, gave to me the greatest gift— a sweet, innocent, little boy. You, Inuyasha, have been my most precious legacy. For many years after your fathers’ passing, I was able to concern myself only with you. I watched how you grew from a tot, into a young lad, into the man you are today. I had thought many times you would settle into a calf-love as your father and I had but instead, you chose to be a scholar. You have the grit to see it through and to do what your father and I have not.

I hope you know how jovial you have made me. Even when I am no longer of this life, you will continue to make me right peart. Your father would be proud, for he was most thrilled in the early days of my motherhood.

My health has me returned for now and with it, my spirits. The consumption has yet to take me!

I count the days though, for the end will be upon me yet. I will have failed as a mother, and as a wife, if I did not console you in these times. Please, my son, know that you have done everything you could. It is not you, nor the doctors, who have failed me. It is the failure of my own body to fight off the coughs, the fatigue, and the pains. Most nights I wake in cold-sweats, and now, the doctor has diagnosed me with a sickness called hemoptysis.

I will walk into the night one day but do not despair— for I will walk hand in hand with death Himself. Please do not pity your mother. It is because of you, and because of your father, that I have lived a life most fulfilled. A life with happiness, laughter, and light. I could not have asked for more.

In a time long past, I spent the early days of my youth walking along the shores of Kujukuri-hama. Once upon a time, I was the daughter of a wealthy lord. Hitherto, I was to marry a samurai, Setsuna no Takemaru. I spent many of my days' longing for more: beyond the shoes of Tokyo, and of Nippon. It was your father who fulfilled those desires for many years, until his own death. Then, it was you.

Now, I long for nothing more than to lay upon those very shores as the water lap on my toes, my feet, my legs. To stretch upon the grains of the sand. To hear the gulls cry out as they circle above! To feel the warmth of the sun on my face! To hear my native language once more, among those that accept me without provocation. With each passing day, I long more and more to return to where the sun rises eternally. Where your father rests peacefully. He waits for me yet…!

You may be most sad now but remember, these moments in life are only momentary. One day you will walk amongst others and this intense pain you are holding onto, you will soon forget. I hope that one day you will find beauty in the most unexpected of places. That you will find, and accept, wisdom even when you have not sought for it. And that one day you will find love, and strength, in even the most onerous of journeys. You may feel sadness now, and loneliness may wrap your heart, but that is only brief. Without these feelings, you would not feel the joy and compassion that will bear itself to you, like a blossoming flower in the melting snow.

You will always be a part of me, as I will always be a part of you. Your father too will always be with you. Our blood forever runs through your body—for it is from our bodies that you were once part of.

Mr. Myoga Ogata will be sounding the passing bell; I ask that you take my ashes back to the rising sun. Back to where your father rests, along the shores of Shichiriga-hama. I am told that he was laid at Koyurugi Jinja. It is my most ardent wish to lay alongside the man who gave me everything when I could not give even a grain of rice.

I have bequeathed to you all which I inherited from your father, and from your fathers' father, and from his fathers' father. That which belonged to my native country is the ring which rests on my finger, and the kimono that I cherished most before leaving Nippon.

Treasure them as I have treasured you.

Forever with love,

Izayoi no Taisho

Tokyo Bay, Honshu, Japan

September 15, 1945

0945:37

The sounds of water rushing against the naval ship bring Inuyasha back to the present moment. Molten amber eyes look beyond the port side, over the vast ocean, and out towards the horizon. The faint outline of islands begins to emerge beyond the fog. Overhead seabirds squawk as they attempt to land on the deck. Brandished away, they perch along the crosstrees, high up from human interaction.

“Lieutenant no Taisho, sir.”

The man folds the letter along the creases. After so many years, the missive has become discolored from exposure. The ink, however, stood out clear and crisp. Too many times he read, and re-read, this very letter. He knew every word by heart. Even now, he could picture the slanting of his mother's chancery cursive. He imagines the slopes of her a and the quick-dash and crosses on her t. She often tended to confuse her f’s for p’s, sometimes to the point he would have to reexamine the word and sentence. Was this a result of learning a new language as an adult, with little help and no education?

Inuyasha returns the letter to his breast pocket, careful to avoid loosening his pinned insignia. He turns about-face towards the Chief Warrant Officer saluting him. Returning the gesture he raising his arm sharply, palm down, above his eye.

“Chief Warrant Officer Johnson.”

Both return to a formal stance of acknowledgment.

“Sir, I am here to inform you that we are approaching the islands of Japan. We should hit shore before the end of the day, sir.” As the CWO Johnson speaks to him, Inuyasha loses himself in memories long forgotten. Of feelings lost to him until now.

“Sir?” Brown eyes gaze up at him all the while standing to attention. CWO Johnson’s arms press steadfast to his side, shoes polished as they reflect light from the sun above.

Blinking, Inuyasha realizes he has yet to dismiss CWO Johnson.

“Thank you, Mr. Johnson. You are dismissed.”

The CWO salutes him once more before he leaves, walking in the direction of other sailors. For a moment, Inuyasha’s eyes follow his path before he turns back towards the sea. He inhales deeply, tasting the sharp, brisk seawater on his tongue.

Had he not been on and off naval ships for the last decade, he probably would have choked on the sudden intrusion. As it were the scents around him were dependable, comfortable, and familiar.

More familiar than the country his mother left. A country ravaged and destroyed by times of war and despair. Could he truly impart her final wishes in such a place, so far from the nation he grew up under? So far from him? He had no family here. No ties to link himself to a return trip.

Except for his mother, now.

An ache settles in his mouth, from whence Inuyasha has clenched his teeth together. He releases the pressure, moving his jawbone side-to-side to decrease the tension.

It was her dying wish to be laid to rest alongside his father. Even if he never knew his old man, he loved and cared deeply for his mother. The least he could do was respect her most impassioned desire.

Tokyo, Honshu, Japan

September 15, 1945

1728:15

“Did you hear? A new boat landed today.”

“Marshall MacArthur sure is busy. I hope they brought more of their American food. I haven’t been able to grow anything in months.”

The word ‘American’ sticks out, a harsh emphasis on the last syllable. Higurashi Kagome peers at the two women in line before her, in hushed tones talking to one another. A slick sheen gleams against the tanned skin of one of the women. Her dark eyes survey around her before catching Kagome’s own blue ones. A small, shy smile spreads across her face and she looks away, pretending she had not been listening.

The sun began to set, leaving behind hues of blues, pinks, and reds. Across the horizon, it beams as a deep ochre in the sky, emanating a white-gold ring and rays of orange across the land. A whitetail streaks across the faint blues, pinks, and reds left behind by an aircraft.

If not for the rubble, the scorched lands, or half-torn buildings, Kagome might have thought the setting sun beautiful. The ration ticket scalds against her skin though, reminding her of the situation at hand. She refocuses her attention to the front as allotments are distributed.

Would today be the day they receive the wheat and oats necessary to survive another week or month? There were only so many ways one could stretch over boiled rice. Adding wheat and oats turned congee into tasteless gruel, but it upped the calorie intake.

The line moves faster as rations are given. Soon, Kagome finds that she spies only eight heads ahead of her. The two women continue to chirp, talking of black market deals and spools of fabric costs. It reminds Kagome of her younger brother who, in only a span of three months, grew three inches. Maybe she could extend his yukata with some of her old and wearing kimono. She didn’t think she could afford this month's rations, the charcoal to cook them, and a new spool of fabric. Inflation continually depreciated the value of yen.

As Kagome decides this is the best way to keep costs down, she realizes a hushed whisper has come upon the group. The women point excitedly and talk fast; Kagome almost misses the words “Japanese-American” and “nay-vee”. She follows the trajectory of one finger, where a small group of military personnel stands off to the side.

It is one man that the group talks about and, for a moment, Kagome convinces herself they are mistaken. His headgear is off and he holds the visor between his thumb and pointer, arms crossed.

The setting sun caresses unusual blond hair, flecked with hints of platinum. It creates the illusion of a halo around him. Unlike her own paler complexion, his skin is tanned from years of sun exposure. His eyes, the color of burnt amber, slant downwards and betray his lineage. He is wearing the standard service uniform, a button-down, and trousers. She doesn’t understand military ranking, but his shoulder boards denote a star.

Next to him, a pretty Japanese woman dressed in nurse garb leans over in conversation; her own features illuminate tales of lost origins. Large, almond-shaped eyes scan the crowd, momentarily pausing as they meet her own.

A hand on her shoulder startles her back to reality, and she sees a gap between herself and the two women in front. She bows, apologetically, before closing the space in line.

Only three heads wait in front of her now. She thinks though that the two women in front count as one.

[gw-envs3000-2019]

One Last Breath, and Then Your First

I can honestly say, this has been one of the most challenging courses I’ve taken in the four years of my post-secondary degree. At times, the blog post prompts were the easiest thing I could do, and other times they were the last thing I wanted to think about because I had no idea how to approach it. Over the course of the past three months, the challenge to my creativity has skyrocketed. It’s hard on its own to push yourself to be creative when you’re busy or stressed with other classes, but at the peak of the semester when it feels like there’s so much going on and my mental health feels as fragile as tissue paper, doing something as simple as making a blog post which is supposed to be about my joy and excitement for nature and science communication seems like Mount Everest, especially since at times like this, I’m not really happy, or excited, or optimistic about anything, in fact I sometimes feel like I’m hardly hanging on by a thread and yet I have to either muster up some joy or, more often than not, completely fake it just to get a graded blog post out because neither my wallet nor my mental health can afford to fail a class.

Onto the prompt; moving forward in my endeavors to become a Nature Interpreter or something of the sort (or simply to use the quite helpful skills I’ve learned in this class) I’ll be eager to keep in mind, and question myself as to what type of backgrounds my audience may have (the experiences they’ve likely had, and what makes them tick) in order to effectively spark their interest and show them how our connections and relationships with nature are equally important as the relationships we hold with the people around us. 

Of course, no matter how hard you try, you won’t be able to reach every person in the way you intended, if at all, and that’s part of the process. Even though your audience is there because they already have an interest in what your talk/walk will be about, the ways you decide to approach the topic (influenced by your personal beliefs and experiences) may cause some in your audience to turn off their ears and try to interpret the environment for themselves. And that’s okay too, because I’ll admit there are interpretive walks where I’ve tuned out because I couldn’t really care less about what the guide was saying anymore (because I had misinterpreted what the talk/walk would be about/the stance it would take on the topic) or simply because I could tell they had a very different opinion related to the topic than I did and it was influencing everything they chose to say about the topic. Which, no shade to them, they can do as they please, I simply didn’t show up to the right tour, and I may not be lead to the revelations and discoveries that they intended for me to be lead to; but I’ll end up guiding myself to my own revelations, if any. It’s the same for audience members that I may have one day; they may not reach the revelations that I intended, but as long as the experience that they had helped them to feel some sense of clarity and peace then my job is done. 

Obviously, I’ll always hope that the intended effect is the effect experienced by all members of my audience. To give my audience an new personal understanding of their place in our world, the importance of their actions in a big world where they feel like a drop in the ocean. To illuminate to my audience the terrifying beauty of the interconnectedness of the world, and the wrongs that our world has endured at our hands, that one group of humans have experienced at the merciless hands of another group, in order to educate a new “generation” (that is becoming better educated on a topic brings them into a new realm of life and feels nearly rejuvinating; the beginning of a new life) and change the future of all of mankind. To conserve the natural beauty of the world, in order for future generations to be inspired by it, to be able to use it to understand the importance of the relationships and connections among all living organisms; sentient and not.

In every dull moment of mundane life on Earth, or every sad moment that drags on your feet like lead, we gratefully accept anything to give us that feeling of hope again. Whether through song or story, we learn new things to broaden our minds and to give us the ability to look upon this world with fresh eyes. When we were children, we’d beg our parents to tell us stories of when they were growing up, to hear that we’re not alone in the way we’re feeling and that life gets better; to learn of the bad things people have done in anger and fear, and provoke ourselves to feel inspired to never repeat those people’s mistakes; to learn of  our place in the world, through the life, full of discoveries and learning, of a fellow human being; to feel connected to another living being, and feel even if for only a moment that we’re not alone and people care to feel a connection with us, because they give us their time; the most valuable thing in any living organism’s life.

“Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there--on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds.

Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.

The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand.

It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known.”

-- Carl Sagan, Pale Blue Dot, 1994

image credit: https://www.planetary.org/explore/space-topics/earth/pale-blue-dot.html

If I’m to become a nature interpreter, I’ll likely only work with small groups (10 or less) because I feel more disconnected with bigger groups, like no one’s really listening to what I’m saying. Whether that’s because there are too many eyes and I can’t meet all of them for a meaningful enough time to feel like I have that person’s attention, or there are too many eyes and I can’t meet all of them and so I feel that they don’t feel that they have my attention. I like a more personal connection with people even if it’s only for a short time, giving up that connection leaves me feeling adrift and purposeless; like everything I had done previously for the tour meant nothing and wasn’t heard by anyone.

I hope to feel that I have the ability to touch the spirit of all whom I come into contact with, brighten their world, and clear their eyes in order to see their world anew for the true breathtaking beauty it offers us with every passing moment.

[borisbubbles]

ESC 2019 Preshow #09

09. ITALY Mahmood - “Soldi” Autoqualifier

👏SOL 👏 DI 👏 SOL👏 DI 👏

ENTRY ANALYSIS

Much like Jonida, Mahmood sort of slipped for me when I grew more attached to other songs, but that does not mean he’s not fucking amazing! I, too, fell in love with “Soldi” on first listen when I noticed the lyrics rhymed “Ramadan” with “Jackie Chan”. 😍 😍 😍 😍. 

Other amazing things about “Soldi” include: the 👏 use 👏 of 👏 clapping 👏 as 👏 punctuation 👏, the ~Iconic~ lines in Arabic during the middle eight and the wonderful message. It was the FIRST SONG IN THIS YEAR WHICH MADE ME SHED A TEAR!!!  😭😭😭 I don’t know how or why, but I listened to the song with translated lyrics and it just *clicked* for me. I WAS LYING SICK IN BED WITH THE FLU, OKAY. Forgive me my momentary weakness!!!

So is it any wonder “Soldi” was greeted with near-unanimous critical acclaim and support? No, of course not. It’s a fantastic song and 100% deserved to win San Remo!

...

okay, so San Remo...  I did *NOT* watch it but I’m aware of Irama, Loredana and Simone, so consider those the reps if I had bothered with an NF corner. Ideal Husband Material, Blue-haired Rocker Hag and Random Dude Who Reads Poetry (not sings. reads.) respectively <3

Slated to win San Remo this year was Ultimo, who entered San Remo with some pretentious piano ballad called “I tuoi particulari” which as the name implies was particularly boring. God what a yawnfest. However, it as also the audience favourite somehow? Him?

So, the juries marked it down just enough so ‘Soldi’ won instead because again, BORING don’t work. Ultimo, instead of being like “well I lost, but oh well, I wasn’t going to Eurovision anyway*”, showed his true Salvador colours by throwing a temper tantrum on social media and spent the entire press conference uglysobbing about how quality was denied (his own words! He refered to *himself* as quality!).

(*he said he would never do Eurovision because he believes it is Eurovision is beneath him 😬)  Oh and some right-wing Forza politicians chimed with their usual drivel that Mahmood was unfit to represent Italy because Mahmood is gay & half-arabic while Italy is a vafanculo blob of fragile masculinity which can only be properly represented by drug-riggen, ugly-tattoo’d brats. Guess what? WE 👏 DON’T👏 CARE. 👏 FOR YOUR 👏 MODERN TIME 👏 PREACHIN’  👏 FORTUNATELY, Mahmood agreed to do ESC (after a week long thinking period lol) and all was well in this world . 👏 ANOTHER VICTORY FOR QUALITY  👏

Edit note: it has become apparent that my brash and snarky assesment was largely malinformed, but user @wingednerdydude​  provided a pretty detailed summation of the situation. 

It’s a quite long explanation I’ll put a tl;dr to appease the fans:  Ultimo did indeed not take the loss well, but the media also took an off-hand comment he made about Mahmood out of context and he retaliated, which led a lot of a unnecessary drama and mutual poo-slinging. It’s not just the ESC fans that overdramatize shit, who knew. 

For those who want to read it:

Ultimo never insulted Mahmood or said one single bad thing about him or that his song was better than Soldi, let's make this clear from the start. It's also true that he never even said anything complimenting him or his song. Mahmood actually said he never spoke to him nor heard from him in any way. The only thing Ultimo ever said is that he is happy for Mahmood and his success, that's it. If Ultimo really did compliment him then I never read or watched such interview

The mess during Sanremo's press conference blew up right when Ultimo said he was happy for (I'm quoting) "the other ragazzo, Mahmood". Ragazzo is a really neutral term in Italian, it just means young man, I wouldn't know how to traslate it. The journalists found it "insulting" for some weird reason (Mahmood actually said he thinks it's a totally okay term) and said Ultimo was disrespecting him. More context: Ultimo clearly was disappointed about his 2nd place

The press knew it and since the moment he entered the press room they literally started rubbing his missed victory in his face and kept asking him "yeah, but don't you think you should have won?". Ultimo eventually got pissed like mad and rightfully so. They were literally trying to make him lose his temper because they knew he had a bad character and was disappointed. They wanted a scoop and they got it.

Ultimo told the journalists that they were just trying to get an article out of it and that any thing he would say, they would turn it into something else. Then he said (quoting) "I'm fucking done with you". Boom, all of the press room went crazy and started throwing insults at him (sore loser, shit, bastard, ungrateful etc...). At some point Mahmood entered the room and the situation got chill again. By the way, look at the Il Volo guys while he speaks. They agreed.

Which takes us to the next step: why did Ultimo explode like that? I'll get ther: the day after there was a tv program the contestants were supposed to take part in. Ultimo didn't show up. It was full of journalists who obviously insulted him, they showed the clip of Ultimo insulting the press. One of the journalists though, she gave no fucks and just said the things as they were: and that is, the press insulted him. Not only after Ultimo's insults, but also earlier.

Ultimo wasn't the only artist who got insulted: the guys from Il Volo were too, during their performance and while the results were being announced (everyone cheered cause they hadn't won). The journalist says there were clips of it. Ups, looks like they "couldn't show them". Funny how they found Ultimo insulting journalists, but not the opposite. And those videos exist. In particular, there was a video of Ultimo being insulted by press, days before

There were a lot of talks, clickbaity articles written etc... Ultimo tried speaking in a video he posted and told his point of view. Now, mind you, I don't agree with some of the stuff he said. He said that he was sad about the whole thing and that it had been blown out of proportion, his words twisted to show him like the bad guy. And this is true if you read what I wrote. About the results: he was pissed because he had won the televote by a very large margin but lost.

Here I think he was really wrong, cause those are the rules, jury and televote results add up to the final result, it's maths. It may be disappointing, but that's how it is. Still, he was sad that people had to PAY to vote and their votes didn't matter in the end to choose the actual winner. Debatable. But he did make a good point about one thing: the jury votes are made of the votes of some experts (they're like 10 and actually often are people with no music knowledge)

 And the rest of the jury votes are journalists. Now, wait a second: the same journalists who threw personal insults at him and Il Volo for no reason if not a personal anthipathy were the ones deciding if they could win or not. Now this is interesting, cause the jury is supposed to be unbiased. His complaining about this is just right in my opinion, something should have been done about it (journalists faced no consequences for their insults to contestants).

This is where the whole thing ended. Ultimo just asked not to speak about it again, Sanremo's week has now well passed and everyone moved on, so that's literally all. I hope I was of some help to better understand the situation. And please guys, no fighting, let's just enjoy Mahmood's song.

 AND LET US NEVER SPEAK OF HIM EVER AGAIN!!!!!! ~moving on~

Autoqualifier Odds: very good

The most important thing one has to take away from “Soldi” is that it’s a fucking excellent song. There’s a reason it received near-universal critical acclaim from all sources.  

But, as the saying goes, it’s not the song but what you do with it. Mahmood is making great ~live performance progress~ as more pre-parties are showing his growing expertise, but at the same time I feel like everyone has sort of forgotten about him as a potential winner? Actually my friends posited the idea that Mahmood might be a Jamala-esque winner (by finishing second in both jury AND televote) and I think that is an intriguing possibility we should consider! If Duncan somehow doesn’t come through (and he won’t because Expected Winner’s Curse), it will be Mahmood who shall pick up the pieces and win instead. (unless the audience wants to go for the novelty act again, in which case Hatari or Bilal will win) I recognize that Mahmood could go down the usual Italy trajectory and be sandbagged by juries into a mid top 10 placement, I guess. I don’t want to get my hopes up and overrate his odds like I did with Gabbani. Even under the worst circumstance, Mahmood is definitely finishing somewhere in the top 10 though, as all Italian men (fragile or not) do. 

Projected placement: 1st-8th in the Grand Final.

Link to the masterpost

[goodvibesatpeace]

The Power Of Gratitude, Statements Of Inspiration

We live in a fast-paced world. A breaking story today can quickly turn into old news tomorrow. If we’re not careful, the same can be true for our lives.

While we all want more out of life, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be satisfied with what we do have. When we appreciate the things we have in life, we can stay positive and allow better things to enter into our lives. Keep reading for 20 inspirational quotes about life.

1. “At times, our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.” – Albert Schweitzer

A major part of gratitude comes down to realizing who inspired us to live the life we do. Reading inspirational quotes like this one show us that the reason we have certain goals in life is because we’ve seen others live their own truth.

These inspiring people even support us when we no longer believe in ourselves. When our light goes out, we know we can turn to these people in our lives to get us back on track.

2.“Gratitude is the fairest blossom which springs from the soul.” – Henry Ward Beecher

Much like the world’s most beautiful flowers, gratitude allows us to blossom into the best version of ourselves.

3. Gratitude turns what we have into enough.

Short and sweet, this is one of the simplest inspirational quotes that still packs a punch.

When we choose to focus on gratitude, we realize what really matters in life. Instead of becoming disheartened with we don’t have (but think we should have), gratitude transforms the way we see our lives.

4. “Gratitude is a powerful catalyst for happiness. It’s the spark that lights a fire of joy in your soul.” – Amy Collette

Ever met a person that lived like their soul was on fire? This zeal for life comes from living a life of total thankfulness. That’s the power of gratitude that all the best inspirational quotes teach about.

Grateful people are happier people. By recognizing all the blessing we have in life, we’ll be more satisfied with what we have.

5. “Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.” – Melody Beattie

This contentment with life will allow us to build a better future. Instead of being fearful of the unknown, we can see that we have nothing to lose, everything to gain, and everything to be thankful for.

6. “Thankfulness is the beginning of gratitude. Gratitude is the completion of thankfulness. Thankfulness may consist merely of words. Gratitude is shown in acts.” – Henri Frederic Amiel

It’s easy to say “thank you” but it doesn’t mean as much as actually showing someone we are thankful for them. Instead of responding to someone’s acts of kindness with a “thanks”, it’s important to learn how to show we are thankful.

This can be done by writing a thank-you card, giving someone a handshake or hug, or returning the favor later on down the road.

7. “Happiness cannot be traveled to, owned, earned, worn, or consumed. Happiness is the spiritual experience of living every minute with love, grace, and gratitude.” – Denis Waitley

While it is impossible to be happy all of the time, living a life dedicated to cultivating this spirit of happiness can be done as we begin to practice gratitude on a consistent basis.

As we find ourselves meditating over our blessings in life, happiness will almost always be an added consequence.

8. “Joy is the simplest form of gratitude.” – Karl Barth

Gratitude doesn’t need to be complex or extravagant. By living every day with joy, we can express how thankful we are to be living the life we have.

9. “No one who achieves success does so without the help of others. The wise and confident acknowledge this help with gratitude.” – Alfred North Whitehead

We are all participants on this journey of life. While we all want to do things on our own, we do rely on the assistance and support of others at some point in life. For these people, we must be grateful.

10. “In ordinary life, we hardly realize that we receive a great deal more than we give, and that it is only with gratitude that life becomes rich.” – Dietrich Bonhoeffer

In life, richness isn’t found in the amount of money one makes. To truly be rich, one has to recognize the beauty in their own life and give thanks for it.

11. “Gratitude is when memory is stored in the heart and not in the mind.” – Lionel Hampton

When someone does something special for us, it’s hard to forget. These actions of love make their way to our heart and stay there forever.

12. “Gratitude is not only the greatest of virtues but the parent of all others.” – Marcus Tullius Cicero

Every good thing in life begins with being grateful. Love, trust, happiness, joy–they all require us to see the value in others and ourselves and to be thankful for these things. With the help of inspirational quotes like this, we learn how to cultivate the positive things in life.

13. “We often take for granted the very things that most deserve our gratitude.” – Cynthia Ozick

In life, it’s easy to forget how good we have it. While bad things happen sometimes, everyday that we’re alive is a good day.

14. “You cannot do a kindness too soon because you never know how soon it will be too late.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Ralph Waldo Emerson’s inspirational quotes about life teach us that there is never a wrong time to be kind. This is true in life and it’s certainly true when we show gratitude to others.

15. “I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought, and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder.” – Gilbert C. Chesterton

What’s happiness without gratitude? While material things can give us momentary pleasure, we really need to make time to express gratitude if we hope to ever truly be happy.

16. “Gratitude will shift you to a higher frequency, and you will attract much better things.” – Rhonda Byrne

Those of us that believe in the law of attraction know that we attract the same energy we put out. Inspirational quotes like this one show us that by expressing grateful energy, we’ll be able to attract the best things in life.

17. “When I started counting my blessings, my whole life turned around.” – Willie Nelson

Willie Nelson is full of inspirational quotes like this one that show how effective gratitude is for curing feelings of sadness. When we focus on everything good that has happened to us, it’s hard to stay down.

18. “Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn’t learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn’t learn a little, at least we didn’t get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn’t die; so, let us all be thankful.” – Buddha

Looking for the best inspirational quotes about life? Always turn to Buddha.

Buddha knows what it means to be grateful. Instead of becoming overwhelmed with what has happened, we have the opportunity to focus on the positives in our lives.

19. “Gratitude helps you to grow and expand; gratitude brings joy and laughter into your life and into the lives of all those around you.” – Eileen Caddy

There’s a certain sense of wisdom that is found in living a life of gratitude. By finding a way to apply inspirational quotes to our lives, we can begin to be thankful for everything in life, and grow as people.

With more thankfulness in our lives, the happier we feel.

20. “Two kinds of gratitude: The sudden kind we feel for what we take; the larger kind we feel for what we give.” – Edwin Arlington Robinson

We often express our thanks after someone does something for us. However, when we realize how much we can impact others, this leads to a greater sense of gratitude.

Final Thoughts on Gratitude

These inspirational quotes about life serve to show us how we can completely transform our lives by practicing gratitude on a regular basis. Many people mistakenly adopt the idea that they will be happy once they accomplish more in life or have enough money to buy their dream home, car, or something equally as valuable. However, this isn’t the case.

When we learn to be thankful for and content with what we have, we disrupt the idea that we can’t find happiness as we are. As we become more grateful in life, we learn to appreciate all of our blessings–both big and small.

Be Grateful, Be Kind, Be Happy.

Much Love To All... Go In Peace My Beautiful Friends ❤❤❤

[eponymous-rose]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E30 (August 14, 2018)

Note: Storms in my area tonight were messing with my internet, so I had a few brief outages to contend with!

Tonight’s guests are Laura Bailey and Travis Willingham AND THE TEENY BABY. Everyone is understandably distracted. Brian: “Let’s just show the baby for an hour.”

Announcements: Electric Beargaloo is up on CR’s YouTube, and a limited-run Honey Heist t-shirt is available on the store!

@critrolestats for this episode: 

Fjord, Jester, and Yasha were missing for 6 days in-game (Laura and Travis were gone for 6 weeks out-of-game).

Jester’s cast Cure Wounds 38 times and Healing Word 6 times. Cure Wounds is her most-cast spell. Laura: “I am so happy about Taliesin making another healer. Me, personally. Inflict Wounds! Inflict Wounds! Inflict Wounds! Spiritual Weapon! Toll the Dead!” Travis: “That’s the mother of our child.”

Travis was definitely intending to distance himself from Grog with Fjord’s more sensitive character. A lot of Fjord’s backstory is based on things that happened in Travis’s own childhood, and while he’d normally want to keep those things protected, he was curious to see what it would feel like to share those with a character, and he’s already feeling a stronger sense of investment in that sense. Laura asks if he likes Fjord more than Grog. Travis: “I can’t really love anyone more than Grog right now, because Grog is bae.” Maybe in fifteen levels... He talks about how expectations shifted toward him in real life after he went through a growth spurt and came back to school as one of the tallest kids in his class: as a parallel to that, Fjord is being perceived as so handsome and charming and a leader after having had exactly the opposite experience through most of his life.

Jester does feel a bit abandoned by the Traveler. “This terrible thing happened, and nothing helped her in those dark moments when she was asking for him.” Laura doesn’t want to get into it too much, since it’ll come into play in the game. Is this the worst thing Jester’s ever experienced? Laura: “Well, yeah. Jester hasn’t done hardly anything.”

Jester doesn’t feel especially guilty, but “she wants everybody to be happy and wants to make other people happy, so in this situation where she’s the least happy she’s ever been, there’s an extreme desire to fix it.”

Emotional healing is much more important to Jester than physical healing.

Fjord didn’t really know how much he might’ve been worth to the rest of the Nein. He thought they might’ve come for Jester or Yasha, but not him. Travis: “Maybe not that far. Just from what he’d seen so far, he thought, ‘Nah, we’re lost, they’re not going to come for us. There’s so much they have to do.’”

Laura wanted to cast Sending (even if it was totally unhelpful), but Matt told her it wasn’t possible in her current situation: they knew how to deal with casters, and she wasn’t able to talk.

Gif of the Week: Jester dancing.

Laura was really bummed not to get to say goodbye to Kiri. They both wished they could’ve made it to the live show. They’re also super disappointed they didn’t get to play with Sumalee and Ashly.

Fjord’s “going to endeavor to keep trying to look out for everybody. He’s just hard on himself for a momentary lapse of perception. He’s going to be more motivated to take care of some shit.”

Laura and Travis realize that Fjord and Jester can both disguise themselves. Travis: “We could bone with anyone and anyone else! We can take suggestions.” Brian: “I’m thinking of some merch ideas.”

Taliesin sent Laura and Travis Caduceus’ art before anyone else. He checked in with Laura to make sure she was okay with another cleric, and she was really happy. Laura: “His domain is totally different from mine. A lot of times with Jester, I couldn’t do a lot of spells in the RP aspect of the game, because I had to save them for in case there was a battle we were playing. There are so many fun just-fuck-with-people spells she has.”

First impressions of Clay? Laura: “I love his hair.” Travis: “The dude abides. I didn’t even feel like an insight check was necessary. He just seemed so positive and nonplussed and go-with-the-flow. I think a little chillness was needed. If he freaks out and goes all rage monster, I will love him even more. He’s gonna eat people.”

Travis and Laura didn’t have any plans going in regarding their reactions to Molly. Laura: “I didn’t expect to get so emotional over it.” They were jumping in and out of watching episode 26, since they had a one-week-old baby at the time. Later in the night, they pulled the episode up and realized Taliesin wasn’t there... and found out from the chat what had happened. “We fucking go have one baby...” Laura: “Molly would still be alive if we were there. I feel like we would’ve told them to run.” Travis: “It was still a good plan, though, honestly. The dice just screwed them.”

Absorbing Summer’s Dance was “most definitely” Fjord’s tribute to Molly and wanting to get him vengeance. It was especially hard because they were roommates the entire time. “Fjord has never really had friends or companions, much less somebody you had to talk to every night before you crashed out. As crazy and different as Molly was from Fjord, he never judged Fjord.” Fjord’s last conversation with Molly was about how the ship exploded and what happened, and it was “the first time Fjord started to trust somebody with that shit, and he got fucking killed.”

Jester’s taking being a cleric much more seriously because she doesn’t want more friends to die, and she’s starting to understand the stakes of what she does. The cleric-related jealousy of Caduceus was a bit of bleed-through. Laura: “I need to remember that I’m the one that’s competitive and Jester is not. Because that definitely is my go-to.” Brian: “Yeah, you in real life are much closer to Vex than to Jester.”

Fanart of the Week: a great combat group-shot!

Both Jester and Fjord’s primary motivations have changed. Travis: “A little less seeking outside answers and knowledge to things that aren’t really going to help.” Laura: “Jester’s primary motivation of just wanting to bring joy has maybe increased even more. We’ll see how far that goes.” Travis really wants Jester to go dark. “See, now I’m sad that I made Jester happy. But I do think as we level up, Jester’s Spiritual Weapon should get more and more badass. A lollipop with spiky sugar on it or something. Rock candy mace.”

Fjord saw the Cloven Crystal reveal as just another sign of the universe telling him, “Fucking get after it, son.”

Matt gave them a five-minute summary of what went down right before the game, and then left it up to them to work out how they’d play it in-game.

Laura thinks the Gentleman’s bad news. Travis: “Oh, you think? He took fuckin’ samples of our blood.” Laura’s pretty sure he’s tied in with the slavers in some way, but Jester hasn’t got enough information to get suspicious in-game.

Fjord was genuinely impressed with Jester’s ability to---to him---sound upbeat even in captivity.

Fjord was starting to become comfortable that maybe the Nein looked to him for some sort of leadership, which he’d only had some brief experience with during his days on ships, but that took a pretty hard hit. Travis: “He’s encouraged to see Caleb as a team player and looking out for others, and that the first thing he tried to do was make us feel better. He expected a fair amount of, ‘You fucked up.’” Laura: “He was really, really nice.”

Laura reveals that Jester’s actually a cannibal serial killer. You... heard it here... first?

Fjord was surprised to see how much growth there was for Beau in the six days they were gone. “She seems mature, responsible. She didn’t punch any kids. It’s awesome.”

Jester thinks Yasha’s wings "look really badass”. She also doesn’t think anyone has as close a tie with their deity as she has with the Traveler (at least, before this recent uncertainty).

It’s tough for Fjord (but not so much Jester) knowing they can’t achieve revenge against Lorenzo, but they’re still hopeful for closure. Fjord would consider a good kill with Molly’s sword to be closure. Travis: “It’ll be taking care of the group, making sure something like that doesn’t happen again.” Jester: “I don’t know what will get it for Jester, honestly.”

Talks Machina: Are We Out Of Time Yet?

Ronin’s class? He’s very loud, so maybe a bard, but he has monk-like kicks. They think he might’ve been learning from Laura’s battle-heavy VO sessions in the womb.

Laura loved the “case closed” moment, even though when she first heard about it, her initial thought was “Nott closed a case without me!?!”

Travis was surprised that nobody else perked up at the description of the Cloven Crystal. Laura: “Nobody cares about your backstory but you.” Dani: “I care!” Travis: “THANK you, Dani!”

It was really hard for them to miss the first episode in the new studio, since it was such a milestone. They also hate that they missed the first PC death.

Sumalee got booked on a new TV show, and mentioned on Twitter that the first thing she got asked was what it was like to be on Critical Role.

They reminisce about Liam’s evil one-shot they played with Ashly and talk about how vicious Travis gets when he’s not on your side. Endgame for Fjord? Chaotic evil, clearly.

At Ren Faire a few years ago, Travis went missing from the group after some drinking. They eventually found him at a rare coin stand, and he showed off an old coin he’d just bought. Brian: “I’m like, ‘How much did it cost?’ And he just looked down.” Travis: “DON’T SAY THE NUMBER.” Brian: “The shame immediately kicked in.” Laura also dropped a dagger in a porta-potty. Brian: “The Ren Faire takes a toll.”

We fade out on Brian walking away while Laura and Travis sing ‘You’ll Be in My Heart’. As you do.

[shotfromguns]

Overall, I think Avengers: Endgame was... about as good as we were going to get, given who was involved in making the film and what had already been established (or had failed to be established) in previous films. It was for sure massively better than Age of Ultron and a noticeable improvement over Infinity War. But there were still plenty of flaws (including things they easily could have fixed) and a few things that outright frustrated the hell out of me. 

My thoughts on Endgame follow under the cut. There will obviously be spoilers. This is for @pantsvaporation, but anybody else is welcome to read/comment/etc. as well.

I was pleasantly surprised that there was a minimum of obvious “actors swinging at CG enemies that hadn’t even slightly been described to them.” And while there were definitely places the film could have been tightened up, I had been expecting the three hours to feel noticeably slack, whereas the plot never seemed to me to drag at all. In retrospect, maybe I should have been less surprised by that, given that it was directed by Russos, who were also responsible for CA:TWS, which remains the most perfectly paced action movie I’ve ever seen.

Given the length of the film, however, I am fucking furious that the only (and MCU first-ever) LGBT “representation” we got was one of the Russos as a nameless extra in Steve’s support group who was framed as a mlm through the pronouns of who he was on a date with. 181 fucking minutes, and you couldn’t find room for less than 60 seconds to show us Valkyrie with a girlfriend? Carole Danvers got that amazing (as my girlfriend often describes my current look) ‘90s dyke aesthetic after the time skip, but she couldn’t have a wife? And, of course, anybody and everybody else was given a Big Case of the Not Gays, including and especially the male characters people have enthusiastically been shipping with each other due to the historical nigh-complete dearth of women in the MCU films (Tony, Steve, Sam, Bucky... and I will have more to say about Steve).

I did cry a few times, especially towards the end, which I honestly hadn’t expected to. But it all felt very... emotionally manipulative? For example, I didn’t cry at Tony dying, per se. I did cry at Pepper reacting to his death, his daughter, Happy, etc. It felt like they sort of realized that by this point Tony had become extremely unsympathetic and that they’d probably overly telegraphed that he was going to die, so they needed to make us sad about it by ensuring we were thinking about how other characters would feel about his death, versus how we ourselves felt about it.

And we sure did get a whoooooooooole lotta time to show the audience how sad everyone felt about Tony to ensure we did, too. But there was (a) very little for Natasha, who died in this film saving the universe even more tragically than Tony did, given that she didn’t even know her sacrifice would work to get the Soul Stone, let alone whether the rest of the plan would work even if she did; and (b) almost none for the characters who died in Infinity War and didn’t get a Comic Book Death resurrection through Bruce snapping or past!Nebula breaking literally the entire premise of the film (more on that in a bit). The Vision got a two-second reference, not even by name. Loki got just a flash of a cameo, with Thor not bringing him up once that I can recall, being completely focused on their mother even in a time when they were both still alive. Heimdall didn’t even get that much, nor was he even referenced; nor were any of the Wakandans who died so that Scarlet Witch didn’t have to lose her creepy robo-boyfriend (which, whoops, she did anyway). Regardless of how obnoxious some of these character and/or their fans may have been, they still very much should have mattered to the other characters, who should have been mourning them just as much as they were mourning Tony. And yeah, sure, anybody who didn’t get Thanos’d had had five years to mourn the ones who died in Infinity War, but (a) to anybody who’d just been brought back, they were still freshly dead, and (b) even the people who were around for those five years are probably dealing with that grief all over again, not least of which because they had the others who died then returned to them, and because not everybody (especially not Thor) had even properly gone through the whole grief process in the first place.

On the topic of Thor, boyyyyyyy howdy was it frustrating how thoroughly Endgame finished off the way that Infinity War had started cutting the entire legs of his Ragnarok character development out from under him. If it weren’t for the momentary appearance of a handful of characters from Ragnarok, the movie literally might as well not have happened: Thor no longer cares about being a leader for his people, he’s back to leaning on weapons instead of relying on himself, and he seems to have completely forgotten Loki after having finally reconciled with him. And making Thor fat as a joke was not only fatphobic and unfunny but really undercut the narrative’s ability to make the viewer take his trauma seriously, because of a continuously competing tension between “you’re supposed to laugh at how he looks” and “how he looks is supposed to make you sad” that was never really resolved. There was no “you’re laughing at this, but then you realize what it actually means, and you feel like an ass for having laughed.” It was clearly set up to be, “you’re laughing at this, but then you realize what it means, and you feel a little sad, but don’t worry, there will be plenty of more times when ‘Thor is fat now’ is a punchline.”

As for the film’s humor as a whole, while there were some genuinely funny moments that were well positioned in the narrative, the movie overall felt like it frequently ran into the same problem as Star Wars: The Last Jedi, where the writers were so desperate to have characters constantly quipping that they constantly undercut their own poignant moments.

Probably the biggest actual plot hole is, unsurprisingly, the time travel. They initially did an... okay job of justifying why the characters couldn’t just change the past (though it wasn’t until Bruce got to have his chat with Mx. Yellowface that it actually got in any way coherently explained). But after they did all that work of establishing that they couldn’t just change the past, for capital-R Reasons...

They did uhhhhhhh a whole fucking lot of changing the past. A few of these things could be at least fanwanked away. Maybe past!Steve forgets future!Steve telling him Bucky’s alive because he got knocked unconscious immediately afterwards. Maybe Tony’s chat with his dad had always happened. Maybe Steve had always spent decades with Peggy. But there is no way Sitwell et al. wouldn’t remember Steve pretending to be a member of Hydra, which would significantly alter the events of The Winter Soldier if they weren’t smart enough or lucky enough to verify that Steve wasn’t also a mole and therefore realize he was an “imposter” before one of those Hydra sleeper said something to past!Steve to make him suspicious. And Loki grabbing the loose Tesseract and poofing is a massive change in the timeline.

Their enemies did a whooooooole lot of changing the past when past!Nebula brought past!Thanos and The Gang through to the future, including effectively permanently restoring Gamora, i.e., someone who’d been “irreversibly” sacrificed to obtain the Soul Stone.

Once these things happened, there was literally nothing to explain why (a) the future!Avengers couldn’t at least bring back Heimdall, Loki, all those Wakandans, the Vision, Natasha, and Tony by pulling them from earlier points in the timestream, and (b) why the future!Avengers couldn’t just take their set of Infinity Stones to a point before all of this shit happened and prevent it from ever having happened. Which isn’t to say the writers couldn’t have cooked up some sort of internally consistent explanation, e.g., “this Gamora is basically stolen from the other timeline, which still exists on its own independent axis, and the Avengers wouldn’t kidnap their friends out of another timeline and leave that version of themselves without the person they want to restore just to have that person here.” But they didn’t bother, which presumably means no one involved in making the film even noticed the utter inconsistency.

Speaking of utter inconsistency... Steve. Steven fucking Rogers. Hooooooooboy. That ending was the biggest, stupidest, cheapest piece of schlock I’ve seen in a movie for a long fucking time. Let’s leave aside the fact that he chose to leave behind two perfectly good boyfriends and the fact that he barely said boo to Bucky, despite the film having reminded us how important Bucky was to him by having his name literally be the thing that so shocked past!Steve that future!Steve was able to beat him. You’re seriously telling me that Steve was still pining soooooooo badly for Peggy that he would literally risk the entire timeline so they could have their Hetero Happily Ever After? (Bucky, Sam, Tony, Angie: I’m so sorry, bbys.)

Yeah, sure, Peggy and Steve being parted was sad when it happened. But they’d been colleagues for a handful of years, then maybe sorta friends, and then kissed once, in a speeding car, just after they finally admitted they’d both been crushing on each other pretty hard the whole time because they were on the way to possibly both die. That is not “the love of your life” who you spend the rest of time sighing over. That’s, like, the guy I casually dated for a bit over a month in 2011 because, while we hit it off amazingly well, I didn’t want to get serious when he’d be moving in about a year once his postdoc was done, who sure enough moved to the east coast a year later and then abruptly died of a heart attack a few years after that. Is it tragic that he’s dead? Absolutely. Have I sometimes thought, “Gosh, I wonder what could have been”? Sure. Did I decide that I would never ever again date or even look at anyone else, because he was the only person for me in all of space and time? Lmaoooooo no. I am, in fact, deliriously happy with my current girlfriend, who I also happen to think is way better for me than he ever could have been.

It was already established that Peggy got married in the original timeline (in CA:TWS, Steve watches some footage in which she mentions that during the war he’d saved the man she eventually married). This means that either (a) Steve supplanted her original husband, which is pretty gross, especially if he didn’t tell Peggy “oh hey btw you originally married this other guy, wanna go check him out first,” or (b) Steve was Peggy’s husband all along, and she just obfuscated that. Either way, in the timeline we end up with, somehow for 50+ years this incredibly well-known woman and sometime Director of SHIELD was married to a man she kept absolutely secret and hidden, which somehow no one ever discovered the secret of or even ever commented on, apparently. It also means that, when Steve showed up on her doorstep, both of them agreed that (a) it was more important for them to play house than for Steve to ever openly use his abilities again and (b) Steve would sit on his ass and twiddle his thumbs through every major crisis he knows is coming over the next half-century. If the MCU serum slowed Steve’s aging the way the comic serum did, this might be slightly understandable, because they could justify it as, “Well, Steve will go back to adventuring after he closes the loop with his original timeline, and this will basically be an extended vacation.” But Steve did age (and they presumably had no expectation that he would not), meaning that he wasted decades of active time at most acting secretly and anonymously from the shadows. You really think that these two incredibly dedicated and driven heroes would both agree to that? Sure, I could absolutely believe they’d take the opportunity to finally get that dance. But there’s no way that Peggy wouldn’t have booted Steve’s ass out of bed and back to the 21st century, and it’s highly unlikely Steve himself would have so much as seriously considered staying for more than a more leisurely farewell and proper closure.

Steve’s Hetero Happily Ever After also further complicates the issue of that time travel plot hole I mentioned. If the stones were plucked from one or more divergent timelines (or changes made while grabbing the stones then caused the creation of divergent timelines at those points)... how did aging!Steve end up staying in the same timeline as the rest of the future!Avengers? It seems like it should be impossible for all these things to be simultaneously true, which means either I’m missing something huge or at least one of them is a huge fuck-up in terms of the plot’s internal consistency. EITHER the changes to the past happened in (or spawned) one or more divergent timelines, which is why, e.g., Gamora could be brought forward from her past and now be alive in the future without altering the past that led to her being brought forward in the first place, in which case aging!Steve would have spent his life in an alternate timeline and old!Steve wouldn’t have been able to come visit all his buds on the day young!future!Steve left to return the stones; OR everything took place in a single, unified, undivergent timeline, which would mean Steve could drop into the past and take the long way back to the exact point in spacetime he left, but the changes to the past would have altered the past events, meaning that because Thanos and The Gang skipped forward and Loki is at large with the Tesseract, the events of Thor: The Dark World, Thor: Ragnarok, Infinity War, etc. never happened, and we’re also back to having no reason why other dead people couldn’t be pulled forward from their past timeline, why Thanos couldn’t be stopped by time-traveling the stones to before he retrieved them and using them to stop him, etc.

Various other issues:

The “monstrous” single woman who can’t get pregnant sacrificing herself so that the virile man will have his wife and children restored to him is... not a good look. Also, it’s weird how “we don’t trade lives” when it’s about a robot coded as a white man sacrificing himself to save half the universe (though apparently even at the time a whole bunch of Wakandans was fine, whoops, remember all the Black people who died trying to stop Thanos from getting to the Vision, weird how those lives were okay to trade), but when it’s about Natasha or Clint throwing themself off a cliff, immediately they’re both all, “Yeah, it’s gotta be done for the greater good.”

Thor getting to be the one to axe Thanos’s head off instead of, you know, like, oh, I don’t know, Nebula? The woman he abused and tortured pretty much her entire life? Bad. Inappropriate. Disappointing.

Everybody kept talking about how the characters who got Thanos’d in Infinity War were their “family.” For Rocket, I believe it; one thing the GotG films actually did well was to establish that level of relationship for those characters. But the Avengers? Lmaoooooo. The MCU Avengers were not a fucking family. The MCU Avengers spent every single movie at each other’s throats. If you wanted us to believe they were even friends, you should have given us at least one film of them seriously working as a team instead of against each other.

Holy shit, do I not care about Clint Barton’s Manpain(tm). Also, if you want us to see how far he’s “fallen,” maybe do something other than giving him the worst mohawk I’ve ever seen (including one done backstage after a show and one a friend gave me in my bathroom in college) and a boring tattoo and having him badly pick up an ugly katana-esque sword to kill objectively bad guys.

Bringing Scott back was easy enough that a rat walking across a panel after five years of that shit sitting in a storage facility could do it, and yet no one else tried even once? Somebody saw all that shit set up, and went, “Welp, guess they’re all just dead,” instead of, “Hey maybe this running equipment indicates an experiment in progress that we should maybe investigate”?

The “let’s line up all the named women” shot in the final battle was the most patronizing display of pandering I’ve seen in the entire franchise. Not only did it make no sense for them all to be in the same place at the same time with no men even in the shot, but... they were utterly ineffectual? It was like, “Gosh, how will Carole ever make it through that??? Oh, she’s got US, GIRL-FRIENDS, DID WE MENTION WE’RE ALL LADIES, BUT NOT QUEER OR ANYTHING.” And then... Carole immediately blew straight past them, because her power level is so off the charts compared to almost every other named woman in the MCU, many of whom are simply very, very skilled peak human heroes versus being superhuman.

Speaking of superhuman abilities: Why wasn’t every time-travel suit an Iron Man-style suit like Rhodey’s? Obviously he needed an exoskeleton bit to walk, but since Tony took the time to build him a beefed-up full suit, why didn’t he do the same for everyone else?

Along that same line of stupid decisions made around the Vitally Important, We Only Get One Shot At Fixing This time-travel mission, why didn’t they wait until everyone was in better shape? Thor was clearly still an emotional wreck, and if Rocket hadn’t been on the ball, it would have cost them one of the stones. As soon as you’re traveling back in time to fix something, unless there’s a hard limit on how far you can go back (which there wasn’t), you literally have the rest of your lives to get ready for it, so can and should take as much time as you need to prep (and even over-prep) for that mission. A little more lead time also would have given someone the opportunity to go, “Hey, wait, why don’t we first make a quick stop to just grab more Pym Particles, so we have more flexibility with destinations and do-overs?” Or even, “Why don’t we make these suits modular? That way, they can join into a single unit for each team on the way there, thereby saving a bunch of charges, but also split off into individual suits with everyone having enough juice to get home individually just in case someone gets split off. That will leave us with a bunch of extra Pym Particles in case something goes wrong.”

Other than meta reasons like “we want there to be a big epic fight,” why was it such a struggle to fight Thanos? The Avengers very nearly beat him in Infinity War, when he had five of the six Infinity Stones. Here, he had none, and they still barely squeaked out the victory by the skin of their teeth.

Thanos’s rapid switch from “I’m gonna kill half of all living creatures to uhhh save the universe somehow” to “I guess I’ll just wipe out everything and make an entirely new universe” once again highlighted how deeply stupid his original plan was. If he has the capacity to re-create the entire universe, why doesn’t he just... make more resources, if that’s such a fucking problem? I mean, also, spoiler alert for the real world: It’s not. It’s always been an issue of distribution, not amount. People aren’t starving to death because there’s no food; people are starving to death because of capitalism. So unless you target your population elimination at capitalists exclusively, killing off a bunch of people is going to maintain exactly the same problems of unequal resource exploitation and distribution.

Speaking of which: Why is post-Thanos Earth presented as a mellow semi-paradise (except for everybody being sad about all the dead people)? The loss of half the world’s population would have been catastrophic, cascading into many more deaths. Nor would it have solved inequality... or even resource “over”-utilization. Earth hit a population of 3.85 billion (i.e., half the current ~7.7 billion) around 1972, which many people currently alive have personal memories of not actually being particularly idyllic. This also highlights once again how deeply stupid and nonsensical Thanos’s original plan was, given that his “solution” could easily become obsolete in another 50 years... or even sooner, given that Thanos also cut all non-human creature populations in half, which would have not only reduced related resources available for human consumption but devastated ecosystems worldwide.

There has been a huge official campaign to persuade audiences to not spoil the movie for others. As a general principle, I’m a fan of encouraging anti-spoiler culture, but I think it says a lot about this movie in specific that the studio has put in so much effort to try to stamp out spoilers: i.e., they’re worried that the only real draw it has is people finding out assorted plot points. If your film can be easily replaced by a bulleted list of who’s alive or dead at the end of it, it’s... not actually a good film.

ADDENDUM MAY 5, 2019:

Okay, so, per the Russos, the reason Steve's Hetero Happily Ever After DOESN'T break the entire rest of the film is that it happened in an alternate timeline, and he just jumped back to the MCU prime timeline later... somehow. I still think that's shitty, lazy filmmaking, because in three hours they absolutely should have, you know, made that more clear (or... at all indicated that's how it played out). But at least it keeps their time travel mechanics from completely breaking their own plot.

But that means that in THAT timeline there were two Steves. Which means the BEST-CASE SCENARIO is prime!Steve hooked up with that timeline's Peggy after being 100% honest about who he was, alt!Peggy... chose a different version of Steve over her own Steve, for... reasons?, and then together they found and revived alt!Steve, at which point prime!Steve was like, "lol sorry bro, she's my wife 'cause I missed my chance with prime!Peggy, but at least now you're not frozen for any longer than you already have been."

Other options include:

Prime!Steve pretended to be alt!Steve while leaving him in the ice, counting on him not getting rescued until alt!Peggy would be nearly dead.

Prime!Steve helped rescue alt!Steve, then left alt!Peggy and alt!Steve to have their personal Hetero Happily Ever After while he... married some other random person?

Prime!Steve straight-up murdered alt!Steve to take his place.

Prime!Steve and alt!Peggy rescued alt!Steve, and she married both of them. (Somehow I don't see Disney going for that option.)

ADDENDUM MAY 12, 2019

I just read another interview, this one with the writers. Buckle up, because there’s even more embarrassing shit.

McFeely: I mean, we did all of this before Ragnarok.

Markus: Yeah, initially we were writing drafts prior to Taika coming onboard. And it was once they got underway and they were off in Australia making the movie and it was clear that they were discovering new facets to Thor, Chris Hemsworth wanted to make sure that this new loosened-up Thor didn't vanish immediately upon returning to the Avengers world. And so he and Taika flew to Atlanta and we had long meetings with them and watched some footage and got a sense of the new Thor tone, and it worked perfectly with where we wanted to go.

... ... ... ... Literally WHAT FUCKING PART of Infinity War and Endgame matches AT ALL with Thor's character development from Ragnarok? I was all ready to go, "Oh, okay, that makes sense" at the reveal that this was written before Ragnarok. But then, nope, they admit that they just have no fucking idea what they're doing and think they actually integrated its changes WELL. JFC.

McFeely: So where we hit upon it was in order to become their best selves, Steve had to find a life, and Tony had to lose his.

Boring idea and poorly executed to boot. (Not to mention the extreme cringiness of “finding a life” necessarily requires “marrying a woman and having babies in the suburbs.”) How are they getting paid money for writing this trite?

Fandango: So people are asking... Does this mean an old Captain America was hanging out this whole time while another Captain America was saving the day?

Markus: That is our theory. We are not experts on time travel, but the Ancient One specifically states that when you take an Infinity Stone out of a timeline it creates a new timeline. So Steve going back and just being there would not create a new timeline. So I reject the "Steve is in an alternate reality" theory. I do believe that there is simply a period in world history from about '48 to now where there are two Steve Rogers. And anyway, for a large chunk of that one of them is frozen in ice. So it's not like they'd be running into each other.

HAHAHAHA HOLY FUCKING SHIT okay so NOT ONLY do the director and writers have COMPLETELY DIFFERENT IDEAS about what the fuck happened at the end (did they... not discuss this with each other? at all?), but the WRITERS' version is the one that is THE MOST OUT OF CHARACTER. HOLY SHIT.

McFeely: So we've always thought that the most perfect conclusion to [Natasha's] arc would be to die for her new family, or to sacrifice greatly for her new family.

GAG GAG GAG GAG GAG GAG GAG

McFeely: We toyed with not doing that, and we had another version, and several women on the crew said, "Don't you dare take that choice away from her. The heroic thing is for Natasha to do it, not for Hawkeye to do it."

these are definitely real women who actually exist

Fandango: Do you think there's a world where we see the adventures of Captain and Peggy either on the big or small screen?

Christopher Markus: Possibly. I think maybe all I did was Steve was a stay-at-home dad and Peggy went to work at S.H.I.E.L.D. I don't know that there were any adventures.

lmaoooooooooo

Imagine being this bad at knowing your own characters. Imagine thinking either Peggy OR Steve would just give up their life to play house when there's important work they could be doing.

[jafndaegur]

Sesskag Week 2018: Day Four

Family is Home

Sesskag Week 2018 | Day Four: Meeting, Share, Secrets, Rain

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Kagome sighed with a sense of satisfaction and relief easing the burden on her shoulders. Rain pattered onto the tops of the sleeping bags she’d strung through the tree branches to form a canopy. She’d been lucky her mother bought the weather-proof bags because they came in handy whenever they made camp. Having zipped two of the bags together, it was just a matter of draping them through the boughs of the trees securely enough that the rain wouldn’t weigh them down and cause them to fall. With the canopy up, she’d been able to reserve some dry ground as well as start a fire for warmth in the chilly atmosphere started by the sudden downpour. She smiled lightly, looking down to see Rin and Shippo curled up together, fast asleep against Ah-Un’s side. Sesshomaru and the others had gone out to scout and left her to find a safe spot to rest for the night as well as guard the young ones. Maybe once before the daiyoukai had joined their group, she would have felt indignant at the suggestion that she remain behind while everyone else did grunt work. However, with her new found knowledge at just how much Sesshomaru respected her—her cheeks bloomed with soft red warmth as she thought about it—she didn’t feel insulted at the task asked of her. Instead she felt quite happy, as silly as it was, that he’d asked her personally to take care of their younger members. It felt like an important duty to her.

The rain pattered pleasantly on the blankets and on the ground, the droplets landing with sounds like fairy bells.

Squelching in mud and snapping branches told Kagome that someone was approaching their shelter on foot. And given how careless it was, it couldn’t have been anyone from their group, except for maybe Jaken. She reached over and grabbed her bow, knocking an arrow. Crouching low, she placed herself in front of the kit and the little girl. For all she knew it could’ve been an animal. But with her luck it was probably the unwanted and unfriendly company of a youkai.

A gentle and soft flicker of orange flame become apparent first before the bearer did. The silhouette told her it was a tall man with a strangely shaped hat. In his hands was a lantern, his fingers and hand visible as the light cast a fading glow just barely visible enough for his arm.

As he approached closer, Kagome recognized him immediately. He was going to walk right by them without seeing them. His robes were drenched with water, and his hat seemed droopy, not made to bear the weight of rain. She gave a hesitant look to her own dry haven and then back at him before making up her mind.

“Katsurou!” She called out, setting down her bow and arrow.

He looked up at her in surprise, small rivulets dripping down his brow and nose. “My lady!”

“Come over here and get out of the rain. Are you crazy?” Kagome scooted over as he approached with wary steps, before standing beneath the canopy and in front of the fire she’d made.

He looked worse for wear. The outer robe of his hanbok had been torn in various places, and his gat had a few holes that made the hairs on his head more apparent. Still he offered her a grateful smile and a bow at the waist.

“I must thank you for your hospitality.” He sat down gingerly, watching her for any signs of disapproval.

“What were you thinking, traveling the forest at night, alone, in the rain,” she scolded, pulling her backpack into her lap.

“I’m aware I must’ve looked foolish,” he admitted, scratching the back of his head abashedly. “But I’m looking for my younger brother Hayate. I was on my way back to returning to the mainland when my parents told me of his disappearance.”

“Younger brother? Mainland?” Kagome asked in confusion as she rummaged around her backpack searching for food to provide the traveler.

“Ah yes, some of these are not my secrets to share, however given your kind nature, my lady, I don’t mind.” He sat forward, hands on his knees as he gave her a eager and sincere face. “I live in a province within Goryeo on the Mainland, do you perchance know where that is?”

So he is Korean? She wondered, her suspicions about him feeling a bit more appeased. “Yes.”

With a small chuckle, Katsurou tilted his head to the side. “I can tell from the look on your face you are confused. Please ask of me anything.”

She felt a bit sheepish having been caught. “You speak our language very well from having come all the way from Goryeo.”

“Oh I’m not from there,” he laughed, a pleasant sound that soothed her. It made her feel as though she’d done something right. “I would hope with a name like mine, you’d be able to infer that my parents are both from here. I was born in Edo, my dear lady. However, my father is quite the…power hungry man. And that was not the route that I wished to seek. I wanted to find my own way outside of my father’s conquests and make my own name known. So I went to the mainland.”

She pulled out her little saucepan to boil water, and a cup of ramen.

Katsurou either pretended not to notice or he genuinely did not see her do these things. “As for my younger brother, he and my father had apparently been clashing heads. So he ran off.”

“You seem to have quite a few problems with your dad,” Kagome mentioned, her brow furrowing just a bit.

The man shrugged. “Perhaps. But I think all sons quarrel with their fathers. Don’t you?”

Images of a tall daiyoukai warlord dressed in pristine white and a young hanyou garbed in crimson came to mind, both of them fighting over a sword left behind by their sire.

“I suppose your right,” she admitted.

“My father is a good person,” Katsurou looked off with a glint in his eyes that Kagome would’ve called adoration. “He backs down from nothing and he fights hard for what he wants. He can be strict and stern at times, and even cold—but he cares about his family. Despite what many people would think, he is a very good father and a very good husband to my mother.”

Kagome giggled. “You mentioned your younger brother’s name is Hayate, is that literal?”

“I did say my father is very good to my mother.” He grinned. “And there are more still after my brother.”

They laughed together, their shoulders and sides shaking in happiness.

She poured the now boiling water into the cup of noodles. “Are you close with your mother, Katsurou?”

He looked up at her then, his lips upturning in a small smirk while his blue eyes glittered. “I would like to think so, my lady.”

A small flutter in her stomach made her feel uneasy. That was not quite the look she was expecting from that statement. Such a genuine and keen statement.

Clearing her throat awkwardly, she handed him the cup of piping hot noodle soup.

He took it in his hands, his fingers brushing against hers.

Kagome recoiled instantly. There was a spark of something bitter and sad that ignited in the momentary touch. She could see him, standing alone in a field of Goryeo screaming in pain and loneliness. So much sorrow flowed through the contact, so much agony.

“I hope you don’t mind me eating and running. But I have to continue searching for my brother,” Katsurou bowed his head before tilting the cup to his lips. “Thank you for the ramen.”

She shot up, her hand grabbing her weapon in an instant.

He sat straight up, his eyes widening as she pointed an arrow at him.

“What are you?” Kagome demanded, her eyes narrowing.

“Ah, shit-I mean shoot,” he winced, setting the cup down on the ground.

“What are you?” she ground out again, her fingers tightening their hold on the notch of the arrow. “You have five seconds to answer.”

He bit his lip, his face scrunched up and unsure. Still, he raised his hands slowly, showing her every movement so that she knew he posed no threat. His fingers grasped the edge of his gat. A small look of fear flitted over his features, and the he wavered for just a moment. Shaking his head, and putting a determined look on his face, he pulled his hat back.

Large, ebony ears fluffed out from the top of Katsurou’s head, and immediately tilted forward in apology.

“An Inu hanyou,” Kagome whispered, before looking over him completely.

Without the gat, his hair was free to fall in place however it wished. His shoulder length locks were almost as dark as the fur on his ears, and the blue of his eyes were tragically familiar. Now that the shadow of the ridiculous hat was gone, Kagome could recognize every feature in the hanyou’s face. It was, for the most part, like looking in the mirror. There were a few features, however, that did not mimic her own.

Such as the blue crescent hidden that barely peeked out from behind his choppy midnight bangs.

Katsurou’s ears shot up in alarm, and he veered around into a defensive crouch. The glittering silver hair was the first thing they both saw. Sesshomaru. He approached them with an expressionless countenance on his face, his brow knitted together in distaste. The hanyou stood up immediately, running and meeting the daiyoukai. Kagome watched the interaction, wondering what she should do when both Shippo and Rin had started to awaken.

Sesshomaru cast a brief glance to his little miko, checking her and the young ones over to make sure that they were well. “We will leave the kit and Rin with the village priestess.”

“Why?” She wasn’t questioning him, she wanted to know what was happening.

The Inu returned his attention to the hanyou. “We have found Naraku. And we have found his brother.”

Katsurou cursed and bowed deeply at the waist.

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[yoongiandchiminie]

Distance [Jungkook x Reader] Part 1

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 3,468

Genre: Romance, Angst

Warnings: Cursing,

Summary: After being friends with Jungkook for years, you’re finally coming to terms with your on and off feelings about him or so you think. He was a complex man and had been since you were younger. Everyone knew it, but did you know him the way everyone else did? 

Dear Google Docs,

I think I've loved Jungkook since I was fifteen. Over the last five years, I've fallen in and out if love with him, but I've always loved him nonetheless. Maybe I don't really know what being in love is. Maybe it was because of his admiration of me and feeling appreciated made me care for him more than I truly did. I guess I'll never really know.

I'm here because I didn't really know what else to do. I've always enjoyed writing and that's even how I met him. Through a writing outlet on Facebook back then. He was beautiful. One of the most gorgeous men I've ever seen and maybe that's where the initial lust came into play, but was that all it was? I hope not. He made me happy then. He made me confident in a way I'd never admit. Never to him. He had to have known about one of my crushes on him to a point. I wasn't exactly subtle at my young age.

Jungkook had this terrible habit of disappearing and playing it off as if nothing had ever happened. Acting as if he wasn't gone for three months as we were getting older. I've always had this terrible and irrational fear that everything would be over sooner than expected. Wasting days wasn't something I enjoy and it rather irritated me.

He told me he was lonely today and wanted to feel love. So I told him I loved him. I really did, but he didn't know how I meant it I guess. It went like this; “I think I'm lonely.” “I love you.” “I know you do, but it's not the love I need.” “What?” “You love me in a friend way, I need something more.” I was silent.

When he was telling me about his feelings today, it was the first time in years. Jungkook was a private guy and he always liked to keep it that way. After we spoke about the love thing, he told my friend Maeve and I why his ex-girlfriend broke up with him. They’d always been on and off because I’d heard she was a little bit crazy. Kook said that she approached him about a week ago and said that she knew nothing about him. So he told her to come over one night and they could sit up and talk about his life. His feelings. Then after he told her everything, she broke up with him on that spot. She said he was depressed and she didn’t need to be around that.

He claimed that he wasn’t depressed and she was spitting shit, but who was I to know? As much as I knew about him, it was really not too much. He was a private person. I only knew what he wanted me to know. When I was younger my mouth ran a lot and thus he knew- everything. I was open when it came to him and just couldn’t hide shit. He was always there for my whether it be through skype, xbox, or a phone call.

I've been thinking about that moment all day and that's why I'm here. I cracked and needed somewhere to vent to. As much as I enjoy a paper and pen, Google docs was more accessible to my venting needs. How do I explain to a pen and paper that I love a boy I've only met once in person? I guess the same way I do it here, but a little less pathetic. Nobody could ever find this unless I sent it to them, so I'm safe.

After writing down how I felt, I felt even stupider than I had without doing it. I sighed as I closed my laptop, pushing it off to the side of my bed. I grabbed my Xbox controller and it looked like Jungkook was still online playing Sea of Thieves. We’d been playing earlier all together, but I’d gotten off because I hit a point where I couldn’t contain myself around him. I had this constant fear that I’d say something stupid that would scare him off and the thing that sucked was that he had the same fear. Any form of feelings he could spit out, he kept bottled up.

I grabbed my controller and then my headset, plugging the wire into the prior. I hovered his gamertag for a moment. “JEONKOOKIE”  and hit X, inviting him. It took a moment but he joined into the silence. He never said anything when he joined  party, always waiting for the other to say it.

“Hey.” I lead, coughing after I spoke.

“You hoppin’ on? I’ll invite you.” He had this slight excitement in his voice that made saying no so hard, but I didn’t want to sit here sitting in my own feelings with his voice telling me to raise the sails.

“No, no. I just-” I cleared my throat and he made a small eh noise. I was starting to get flustered just by speaking to him. “I just wanted to tell you that you deserve the world. Even if you have to give it to yourself, you know? Unless you-”

“I know.” he was monotone, but I knew he wasn’t annoyed with me. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Unless yo-”

“I love you, you know that? You’re important to me.” he let out a small chuckled after he spoke and my face burned hot. “What were you saying? Sorry to cut you off.”

“Nothing.” I responded. All I wanted to say was unless you wanted me to give it to you, but that was it. My momentary confidence was gone. Ah fuck. “I’m gonna go.” Without listening for his response, I left the party and threw my controller across the room. All I did was fuck up when it came to him, but it didn’t really matter. Soon we’d go back to not talking constantly and I’d be sad for a week or so, then the feelings would fade away. I knew this for a fact, so why did I constantly fall in love with him? Fuck if I knew.

--

“We should meet up again sometime soon.” He’d said a few days later. The party was silent as it was just the two of us and sometimes it got like that. I didn't particularly like it, but I sat through it in hopes that I could say something to spark a conversation. “I had fun with you guys last time.”

I was on a road trip with Maeve and our other friend Jin, going to see our friend Yoongi for the weekend. We stopped at a rest stop and as we pulled in, I recognized it as the town Jungkook lived in. Naturally, we went to his job to surprise him. Imagine your internet friends showing up during your shitty work day? We thought it would be nice too. Jin had called out his name and we couldn't find him, so we left and decided to call his phone this time.

He didn't pick up, so Jin wrote in the group chat and it turned out he called out of work. Jungkook always had this habit of pushing people off if they came near him, but not this time. He came and met up with us. We waited in Maeve car and I was anxious. I really was. What if he wasn't as excited as me? What if our awkward silences transitioned to real life? My heart stopped as I looked around the parking lot and spotted him. As my obnoxious self would, I honked the moment he stepped into his car and I never thought a smile could make my heart drop.

Jin ran out of the car and the two hugged for a good while, as you do. Other than Maeve, our whole friend group lived around the country from each other. We only got to see each other if we traveled and it was nice to say the least. After Jin had picked him up and spun him with a laugh, Jungkook pulled away and turned his attention towards me. He had this big goofy smile on as his arms snaked around my frame and held me tight. I’d had dreams about this moment and for it to be coming true was eye opening.

I'd always figured Jungkook was someone that took good selfies and was kind of cute in person. He was the most attractive guy that I’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. As we sat around eating lunch, Maeve couldn't stop herself from texting me about how fucking hot he was and I just nodded.

“Yeah, that'd be fun. It's just a little far.” I played it off as if him wanting to see me wasn't music to my ears.

“We can meet halfway if you wanna. Six Flags is between us.” I could hear hear him smiling as he dropped anchor in our game. “We could have a fun day there.”

“Are you going on the vacation this Summer? Everyone is going to Namjoon’s to meet his daughter.”

“It's a bit of a stretch, but we could drive down together.”

“It's a twelve hour drive.”

“I like driving.”

“I like- driving. I like driving.” Real smooth. “So you're going to drive here and then we can drive there?”

“Looks like that's the plan, lovely.”

--

Dear Google Docs,

I really think I love him this time. We're driving together to the dumb squad vacation I didn't really want to go on. Being the only girl with them gets to be a little much. Yes, Emma was gonna be there and Claire as well, but ones a baby and the other doesn't like me too much. Emma was always uneasy with me, even if I haven't even met Namjoon in person. She seems sweet, I'll never hold her to the jealousy she felt for me.

So far out of the seven of them, I’d met Jin, Yoongi, Jungkook, and Jimin in person. I'd taken vacations with Jin and Yoongi. I had lunch with Jungkook and I’d spent five minutes with Jimin. It turned out the two of us were at the same anime convention and neither of us knew all weekend until the last day. He’d found the hall I was in and came to give me a big hug and took a selfie with me. It was a little awkward, but it was cute.

Back to the problem at hand. I think I'm going to need to get a second job up until we go away in two months. I need new everything to wear there, especially since we were going to be at a beach. I had to work out and shop, which means  more money than I’m making for a little bit. I guess I'll to job hunting tomorrow before I go to my job now. I hope it's worth it.

--

“Where have you been, Y/N?” Jungkook asked about two weeks later when we finally caught each other on Xbox. He worked the hours of my normal job, so we used to be able to play together right when we got home. Now, after that job I went straight to the night job and didn't get home until his Overwatch team started their nightly skrims. It meant absolutely no time to play with him, but that was alright. It was bound to happen anyways.

“Working a lot, you know me.” I laughed it off and opened up my game. “You ready?”

“Oh, I’ve been ready, baby.”

--

Dear Google Docs,

Today when I opened my group chat I saw a message from Jimin that said I was all talk. I wasn't too sure what I meant, but I knew the group chat with seven tight knit guys and myself wasn't the place to ask. So, when I got on Xbox with Jungkook I did and he said it was because I was a flirt. He went on to say that I've always been like this and mentioned I'd been flirting with him lately. Was I obvious?

We started the conversation as we both set Sea of Thieves to update, but it’s a big patch. He came back for a moment after getting a phone call and said he was going to take a shower. On one hand I hope he forgets about this conversation, but on the other I want to know where this talk could go. So, I’m writing this while waiting to come back.

I also realized I have another fear. What if when we get bored of this game, we go back to not talking as much? I guess I’d really have to wait to find out.

I closed google docs and instead of my laptop, I ended up scrolling through all of my social media as I waited. My anxiety wasn’t as bad as I expected, but I was still a little bit nervous. Also angry. And cold. Fuck. I heard his headset unmute and a quick breath. Luckily, he forgot.

“You know,” he cleared his throat a few minutes later as we sat on the ship, waiting out a storm that would definitely destroy our small ship. “I kinda like the attention you've been giving to me.” I knew he'd been lonely, especially since his ex. “It feels nice.”

“I wish I spoke to you more.” I admitted. “I just always feel like I'm annoying you.”

“You don't annoy me- Just your choices sometimes do.” he muttered, “You never annoy me.”

“The last really annoying thing I did was two years ago.” I responded, dwelling on my poor boy choices. The boys had introduced me to this boy named Kihyun who definitely admired them. In the Facebook writing community they were basically idolized and I just kind of faded along. I'd fallen quickly for Kihyun. He liked me a lot too, I thought. He lived fairly close to me and we even met up twice. He was my first kiss.

It turned out he'd been using me to get to my friends, or so we figured. He had this big thing where he didn't want to date me and played it off. The guys constantly asked if he was talking to other girls and he denied it, but we later found out he was. I see his name pop up sometimes and this little part of me wants to message him and apologize even though I probably didn't do anything wrong. It was a filler arc that went on for too long. Sometimes I still got upset about it and confided in Jin for some reason. Everytime he kind of made me feel bad about it and I got over it quick enough. “He was in my dream last night.” I finished.

“Ew, ugh, don't mention him.” Jungkook scoffed, a disgusted tone to his voice.

“Don't you talk to him? He fucking sucks your d-”

“Just drop it.”

--

Dear Google Docs,

Today I realized how different Jungkook had become after her. He gets angry easier. She texted him while we were talking yesterday and I could hear his attitude sinking. She wanted him to look for a makeup brush she thought she left there and he asked to know what it looked like. She got mad that he “never can do anything she asks” and he just got angry. He swore every minute and just bitched and bitched.  I felt bad, but what could I do? He got off right after that.

I'm worried.

--

I woke up at a good morning text today from Jungkook. It had a heart next to it and I couldn’t help but to find myself blushing at the thought that he thought of me. I’d gotten messages like this from him before, but it almost felt different. Whenever we went through our periods of talking he as like this. Maybe it was because he knew I thought that I annoyed him all of the time and he did this to ease me.

--

Dear Google Docs,

I think this document is so important to me because it's mine. Normally I'll vent on my private social medias, but my friends still can see my posts along with people I've never spoken to that may follow me. I was always fine with that, but I've felt kind of embarrassed about this Jungkook issue. Was it just in my head? Any friend I've spoken about this with thinks he has feelings to me but they don't- well, know him.

Kookie likes to fuck around. He was one of the sweetest guys I knew but he loved attention and loved being able to say he had someone wrapped around his fingertips. Kinda fucked up. It seems he was a little different now after her. To my knowledge, he wasn't truly about that anymore, but what did I know?

--

We haven't truly spoke in days at this point. Between us both working and whatever was going on with him it was rare that we even exchanged messages. It wasn't exactly hurting me, but more so leaving me in a state of confusion. Did he care the way I did or were they pity messages? All I knew was that I needed my anxiety to stop fucking around with me and let me continue normally. I didn't need this cloud surrounding me and bringing me down. I just had to work and focus.

--

I’d woken up to a message from him this morning that read, “Summer is only a month away.” It was sent at 4:33 in the morning. Why was he thinking about that so early? I went to work and the message didn't leave my head. I’d forgotten to respond to him in my rush and got another message an hour later that read, “I’ll plan everything, don’t worry. I’ll pick you up and it’ll be smooth sailing, baby.” Yeah. Real smooth.

--

Dear Google Docs,

He messaged me “You know what man. You haven't asked me to be a pirate in a while. I'm starting to feel some type of way.”  What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I asked 2 days ago and his replies have been scarce so I decided I shouldn't ask anymore. I didn't want to be annoying and I told him that. His response was “Never. I always want you to annoy me about being a pirate.” My heart fluttered, but I couldn't bring myself to respond with something cute so instead I said “Are you sure?” What a fucking idiot.

--

“I'm glad we have this game.” Jungkook sounded like he was smiling a week before we went away at 1 am. “I always wanna play with you but-”

“But?” I could feel my voice slipping as my eye drooped. I was exhausted, but I couldn't turn down an invite from him.

“You just play shitty games, Y/N.” he laughed hearing my breath stop for a second. I was so tired I couldn't even think of a retort in the moment. “Turn a little more west.”

I listened as I steered the ship while he basically did everything else. “I can't believe I have to drive for 12 hours in a week.” I sighed, dreading the journey. The longest car ride I'd been on was 9 hours and I hadn't even been the one driving.

“But you'll have me.” he basically sang. I was caught off guard by the cuteness of it and cleared my throat. “Back and forth, you'll have me.”

“Are you gonna talk to me though?” I joked with him. “You can't leave me on read or unopened if we're both in the car.”

“Well, we won't be texting, first off.” he almost sounded offended but, I think it was fake. “Maybe I'll be breathless if I stare at you for too long, gorgeous, but that's it. The only thing keeping us from talking.”

“Shut up.”

--

I'm leaving tomorrow for this vacation. I quit my second job, I bought clothes, and I'm excited. Being with all of my close friends for a week sounds like the break I deserve. So, I decided the best way to spend my night was to play some good ole Xbox. Jungkook happened to be on, but his attitude was different. He was normal Kook, but he just kinda kept yelling and was getting frustrated easier than normal. Nothing too serious, but he was being an ass.

“Why are you so mean today?”

“She came over yesterday and slept over and had sex with me so I'm kinda heartbroken.”

“Ah.”

“You know, even though I'm not enjoying my day, I'm enjoying my time with you.”

“Heart heart.”

“Heart heart.”

--

Dear Google Docs,

I don't think I can love him the way I want to.

A/N - hello and welcome to my sadness!! I hope you enjoyed & please let me know what you think in replies or messages! I’m super nervous about this story bc it’s very personal and i highkey need to know what everyone thinks before i continue writing. it’s gonna get a lot worse from here, boys. i can tell you that. heart heart xx

[horrorempathya]

‘ whatever it is that stirs your soul, listen to that. everything else is just noise. ’ moira at claire

BLUE  EYES  JUST  PEER  UP  MOIRA,  as  soft  as  they  always  are  when  she’s  looking  at  that  certain  burton.    there’s  hot  chocolate  cradled  in  between  claire’s  hands,  WRAPPED  UP  IN  THIS  BIG  sweater,  loose  sweatpants.    claire’s  hair  just  a  little  bit  more  messy  than  usual.    

HER  CURRENT  APARTMENT  HAS  THAT  neat  little  bench  in  front  of  a  wide  window.   the  only  thing  she’s  ever  wanted  in  a  home.    eyebrows  furrow,  she  just  thought  MOIRA  WAS  GOING  TO  BE  OUT  LONGER.    then  again,  as  much  as  she  cares  for  barry,  there’s  only  a  certain  length  of  time  the  two  can  be  in  a  room  together  before  THEY  START  PICKING  AT  EACH  OTHER.    claire  smiles  softly,  this  warm,  comforting  little  thing.    everything  about  what  she’s  doing  far  more  INDICATIVE  OF  HER  CURRENT  LIFESTYLE,  but  there’s  still  a  little  cut,  surrounded  by  a  bruise  on  her  forehead.    all  the  signs  of  a  job  she  can’t  give  any  time  SOON.      ‘  barry  starting  to  get  on  your  nerves?  ’  

and  just  because  a  pair  of  people  have  a  hard  time  getting  along,  doesn’t  mean  it  lessens  THEIR  LOVE  FOR  EACH  OTHER,  their  loyalty.    it  just  means  there  needs  to  be  some  adjustments.    did  she  look  sad  a  second  ago,  or  is  that  just  a  joke?    either  way,  IT  KIND  OF  WORKED,  there’s  just  this  momentary  flash  of  important  things  to  her.    that  moment  when  sherry  forgave  her  for  running  off  to  find  her  brother,  her  CERTAIN  HANDSHAKE  WITH  CHRIS,   you  chose  the  role  of  the  rescuer  in  leon’s  voice,  piers  hugs  every  time  they  meet  up,  barry’s  important  WORDS  OF  WISDOM  every  time  she  confided  in  him  about  missing  chris.    blue  eyes  are  still  looking  at  moira.    she  tilts  her  head,  understanding  for  the  words  FINALLY  REGISTERING.

‘  it’s  still  me.  ’      the  smile  still  warm,  claire  removes  one  hand  from  the  cup  to  flash  THE  ENGAGEMENT  RING.      ‘  i  still  remember  and  i’m  not  dying  anymore.  ’    this  slow  blink,  adoration  flashing  loudly  in  blue  eyes  because  as  it  turns  out,  the  one  thing  that  SHAKES  HER  SOUL  the  most  is  standing  right  in  front  of  her.   enough  so  that  any  other  form  of  happiness  doesn’t  compare  if  moira  isn’t  a  very  PROMINENT  PIECE  of  her  life.  

>  MEME \  @survivedempathy  \  accepting.