#I am really just looking for a discussion

[flawseer]

In your last ask, you mentioned misgivings with Book 10's ending, and especially how it pertains to Winter. I absolutely agree, and I know why, but I wanna hear your thoughts on it, too: What's up with Book 10?

The following is a (very long) examination of my personal feelings with regards to the WoF second story arc finale. While it is based on what is in the text, this analysis will be interpretive and fill in blanks with my own thoughts. Keep that in mind.

Hahhhh... okay. Since mentioning it in my last post I’ve gotten several requests to talk about my feelings regarding the second arc finale. There’s probably no way around it then.

If you haven’t read that last post (it was admittedly very long, and so will this one be), I talked briefly about why I didn’t like that part of the story. I have to warn you now, this will likely be the most negative and dour post in the history of this blog. In a few parts it will sound like I hate Wings of Fire, and I want to say now, while I still have the chance, that I don’t. I love this series, thinking about its setting and characters brings me joy.

I also—very emphatically—want to make it clear that I have no ill will against Tui T. Sutherland. I’ve looked around other people’s stuff a bit and there are a huge number of posts wishing violence upon her or threatening her for doing things to her series that people don’t agree with. That is NOT what I am doing here, shit like that is NOT okay! While I will be critical of her choices, I still respect her effort of bringing this vibrant, wonderful world of dragons to all of us.

Also, obligatory last disclaimer: If you liked the finale, that is okay. You are valid for feeling that way. I’m here to share my point of view, not to demand people agree with everything I say. Just be warned that you most likely won’t enjoy what I have to say. If you don’t think you can handle that kind of criticism, this is your guilt-free opportunity to stop reading.

Otherwise, let's get into it.

CW: Discussion of parental abuse, depression, disease, and extreme acts of violence.

In defense of the finale

Before I start to systematically disassemble this narrative and get lost in a quagmire of negativity, let’s talk a bit about the circumstances that brought forth this part of the story. The plot of this arc was a mess from the moment animus magic was unshackled from the restrictions it had in the first arc, and from then on there was no longer any conceivable way to end this story in a clean way. Sutherland had created an invincible, unbeatable, omnipotent villain; he could read minds, see the future with perfect clarity, and anything he could imagine he could conjure into existence at any time with no cost to himself and no drawbacks. She was likely wracking her brain about how to resolve this impossible conundrum. What we got wasn’t good, but I believe nothing could have been. The foundation was rotting and by the fifth book it couldn’t bear the weight of the plot anymore.

The thing about animus magic in arc 2 is that it is so potent, so all-powerful, and so free of restraint that everyone who uses it also HAS to be a simpleton, or they would be able to break the plot immediately and become god. From the moment Darkstalker broke out of that mountain, he could have said “Any and all spells that are cast with the intention to harm me, interfere with my plans, or do something I don’t consent to will not work, from now on until forever”, and he would have instantly won. The strawberry would have fizzled out. The Darkstalker-blocking earrings would not have been created, and no one could have saved the Icewings. On the flipside, Turtle or Anemone could have said “I enchant the concept of animus magic itself to no longer obey Darkstalker”, and his threat would have been neutered. Point is, powers as potent and easy to use as this really need limitations, or they will quickly eat your plot alive.

I don’t envy the situation Sutherland was in at the time at all. If you’re an author, that kind of thing is a nightmare. It really is no wonder she decided to blow up animus magic for good in her next arc, even if I would have preferred it to get more healthy restrictions instead of killing it outright.

The Darkstalker age regression thing

Everyone has talked this part to death already, but if I am to write a thorough analysis of my feelings regarding this finale, I’m going to have to talk about it as well. I’m sorry if I end up repeating a lot of things you’ve already heard.

This final fate of Darkstalker, to have his memories wiped and be reset to an infant, is really uncomfortable. As far as I am aware, though correct me if I’m wrong, Sutherland said in an interview that she didn’t want Darkstalker to die because, in her view, he did not deserve to. We can debate here about the philosophical question of whether anyone is truly deserving of death, and the merits of “justice” and “punishment”, but in general, Wings of Fire did not seem to have any issues killing off its villains prior if they committed suitably terrible acts. That makes this moment stand out as noteworthy.

Who is Darkstalker then--and if we assume villains can be “deserving” and “not deserving” of death--what about him speaks in his favor, or against? The guy had a pretty crappy childhood, coming from a broken home (there is that inadequate parent theme again). He genuinely loved his sister and felt protective of her, and whenever he liked someone he wanted them to be happy and feel affirmed. The thing that Queen Diamond does to his mother is awful and he is justified in hating her for it. He is also portrayed as rather sympathetic in Moon Rising. When he asks Moon to find his scroll for him and not to leave him, he is not manipulating her, he is sincerely begging for her help. He is stuck somewhere underground, trapped in darkness, in a space so tiny that he can’t move. He remains that way for months, lonely and sad. If you just focus on these aspects, it’s easy to understand why he has so many fans who want him to see healthy and happy.

On the flipside, while he is dedicated to the happiness of his friends, he doesn’t always go for the most ethical way to achieve it. He tries to brainwash said friends without their consent whenever they exhibit behaviors he doesn’t like, or when he thinks he knows better and wants to “fix” them. He has very little regard for other people’s autonomy, lies to his loved ones with alarming frequency, and is unhealthily attached to the idea of power. Those things are certainly not good, but they are his character flaws. These are his demons; everyone has them and they make him a person. If this was all there was to it, he might still be a villain, but I’d argue he’d not be wholly irredeemable.

But there are things about him that take him beyond the pale. Things that go beyond the realm of just being misunderstood, or easily excusable.

He is possessive. He wants Clearsight and Fathom for himself, and for them to listen to him primarily. When Indigo makes it clear she doesn’t like him and cautions Fathom against trusting him, he deceives his friends and traps Indigo in a wood carving, just so he can isolate Fathom from his support network and manipulate him easier. He alters Clearsight’s mind to make her more agreeable and stop her from holding him accountable for his actions; while he thinks he loves her, he only loves an idealized version of her that is wholly devoted to and unquestioning of him. This is why, when he later forcibly overwrites Fierceteeth’s existence to recreate her (which is another horrific thing), he tries to excise the parts he finds undesirable to create a perfect version of his lover. But this caricature he has created in his head is not and can never be Clearsight, which frustrates his attempts.

He is vengeful. Not against people who have actually wronged him, like Queen Diamond. That would be questionable, but understandable. What makes this unacceptable is his frequent targeting of innocent people who just happen to be related to the person who wronged him in some esoteric way. He enchants a secret murder knife that kills random Icewings regardless of who they are or what they think about the Queen, just because the one who took his mother from him happened to share their tribe. He hates Turtle and wishes death upon him in Moon Rising just because he is a green Seawing, like Fathom was. And then there is the big one: He tries to kill all the Icewings who are alive in the present day, where Queen Diamond is long dead and none of them have ever even met her. Even his mother, who suffered from Diamond’s actions the most and has the most reason to hate her, is horrified and calls him out on that one.

And lastly, he is sadistic. He revels in torturing those he hates. He forces his father to disembowel himself, while the latter is fully aware and powerless to resist AND the man’s traumatized daughter is watching. Later he sends a magical plague to kill every single living Icewing sans one.

It should be noted that Darkstalker possesses virtually infinite magical power; whatever he declares, with very few exceptions, will happen. Even if he wanted them dead, he had the power to prevent unnecessary suffering. He could have said “Arctic, fall dead instantaneously”, or “Every Icewing will fall asleep and pass away peacefully,” but he didn’t. He wanted them to feel pain and pass away in the most wretched, agonizing ways he could imagine.

So what he chose to do instead is—and I want you to picture this for a moment—Darkstalker sat down, calmly, and said “Henceforth every living Icewing, excepting Prince Winter and those of hybrid blood, will fall ill with an incurable disease. This disease will cause heavy internal bleeding and make its victims cough up blood and waste away for a few days, followed by certain death.”

This spell does not discriminate with regards to who its victims are. The book glosses over the implications, but imagine the ramifications. Young children are notoriously frail, how many newborns got infected and died because of this? How many families were torn apart because they couldn’t get the magic earrings fast enough? Or accidentally got one earring less than there were family members and had to decide who has to die?

Most of the Icewings were physically cured by the earrings, but an experience like that sticks with you for the rest of your life. Somewhere surely, a dragonet watched as his mother put the earring on him and then slowly wasted away because she didn’t have one for herself.

It’s really easy to overlook how horrific this spell is because it isn’t shown or dwelt on. But the trauma, grief, and suffering it caused must have been immeasurable.

And none of those victims have ever even met the person Darkstalker wanted to get revenge on. None of those deaths meant anything to anyone.

The attempted death toll and scale of the calamity here puts even Scarlet to shame. The ones who come closest to it were Queen Battlewinner and Morrowseer with their attempted Rainwing extermination. All three of those died for what they did. Gives you some food for thought for sure.

Peacemaker’s burden

Despite just airing all of his dirty laundry and declaring him an irredeemable villain, I actually do have a lot of sympathy for Darkstalker still. His story is really sad. He was a child born with an amount of power that nobody should possess, and it corrupted him to the point where it destroyed his life before it began. His parents were always fighting and no matter how good his intentions were, he was unable to understand why he couldn’t hold on to his friends and relationship. He kept making mistakes, then made bigger mistakes to fix those, until his hands were covered in blood and he couldn’t stop anymore. My belief is that, after he wakes up in the present and realizes Clearsight is dead, he loses his reason for living and becomes completely lost in his grief.

Therefore, my opinion is that it would have been appropriate for him to die. If not to punish him, then to finally grant him reprieve from all that rage and pain, and let him rest. I think that would have been a dignified end.

But instead he got turned into a baby. ... And then they decided to magically erase his father’s blood from him? I don’t know what it is, but something about that Icewing erasure makes my skin crawl?

The thing that turns this baby twist from weird into highly unsettling is the context. Darkstalker’s mind is erased, then modified into a new person via animus magic. This is the technique a lot of this arc’s villains used to victimize Hailstorm, Queen Ruby, Peril, Kinkajou, Fierceteeth, and Winter. The same technique is now used again, by the heroes, which is a dangerous thing to have your protagonists do if you want them to remain morally upright.

It is also very reckless, because in almost all of these instances, animus mind alteration has been shown to be very unreliable. The spells seem to wear down over time and are susceptible to partial breaking upon encountering certain strong stimuli. Hailstorm—while trapped as Pyrite—seems to retain trace amounts of his former memories, which is why Pyrite is subconsciously drawn to Winter and clings to him all the time. Ruby is able to ignore half of her conditioning because her familial love for her son partially overpowers the magic. Qibli is just straight up able to reason his way out of it.

The thing to note here is that spells of this nature require a very meticulous approach; you can’t half-ass your reprogramming or the victim will just think their way past it. If you alter someone’s mind, the wording of the spell must be ironclad, lest you risk it wearing down over time and even break.

Luckily we have nothing to fear in that regard, because the spell that created Peacemaker was written by a Rainwing with a total of four days of literacy training. No one better mention the name Clearsight to the new baby Nightwing, or next month is going to be rather interesting.

But that’s just speculation on my part. Let’s assume that, somehow, this spell isn’t as unstable as all the others. Somehow Kinkajou threaded all the needles, and masterfully dodged every conceivable pitfall to pen the perfect incantation, despite having been illiterate just a few weeks prior. This one is built to last and Darkstalker is sealed away really thoroughly, for good.

That is still absolutely terrible and morally dubious, because now you have Peacemaker, who for all intents and purposes is a COMPLETELY innocent little kid, saddled with this huge burden of being the certifiable reincarnation of a genocidal ancient wizard. He’s gonna grow up thinking things like “Mommy gets real quiet whenever the topic of the Icewing tragedy is brought up,” and “Why does Auntie Moon look at me like that? One time she accidentally called me a weird name, who is Darkstalker?” “What is this ‘Clearsight’ name my mind-reading friends from the village found in Mommy’s mind?”

In a village that will be full of mind-readers soon, eventually the secret will come out, and Peacemaker is going to learn what was done to him. A huge, messy load of undeserved baggage was forced onto this completely separate, innocent entity. He will be devastated. Whether he then chooses to forgive them for this remains to be seen. To be honest, he would be well within his right not to, and turn resentful.

Poor kid.

Qibli’s callousness

I love Qibli, he is one of my favorite characters. This happens to be his book, and the fact that I fundamentally dislike half of it makes me rather sad. If anything, I hope this tells you that I’m not just hating on it for my personal amusement. I really wanted to like this. I tried to, and I couldn’t.

Qibli is really weird in this one, to be honest. He is suddenly made to be co-dependent on Moonwatcher, fawning over her every third paragraph, saying how much he loves her, how he is an incomplete and dysfunctional wreck without her, how it physically pains him to be apart from her, oh if only the stars would grant his wish and split the mountains apart so that he may fly to his princess, his muse, his goddess of ebony wit. It gets so old.

And it’s not Qibli. He never acted this clingy towards Moonwatcher. It’s more intense than even Winter gets about Moon, and Winter was actually depicted with a crush on her in book 6. Qibli was always just a supportive element, eager to befriend Moon but never desperate, like he is going to keel over if he is separated from his true love five minutes longer. These very frequent love declarations feel so forced coming out of him. It strikes me like it was just written in service of the love triangle. Maybe if we make him confess his love every four seconds readers will overlook the fact that they had no proper romantic build-up.

You might rightly accuse me of bias. I have previously admitted I am fond of Qibli/Winter as a romantic pairing, on the surface this seems like I am just not happy with my pet ship being blocked by Moonwatcher. But I assure you, I am actually pretty flexible and accommodating even towards pairings that contradict my preferences. I have no issues with Winter/Moonwatcher, for example, because the possibility was properly established and they have good romantic chemistry in Winter Turning. In theory, I would have no problem with Qibli/Moonwatcher either if it was ever set up as an interesting romantic dynamic. But to me, it seems like Qibli is written as a good, supportive friend to Moon for four books, only to pivot hard into “Moon moon moon moon moon moon swoon” at the last second, and it just reads to me as obnoxious.

I got distracted. This section is called “Qibli’s callousness”, and I haven’t even talked about the main part.

Qibli and Winter have excellent chemstry together, whether you read it as romantic or platonic—both of these interpretations have merit and are set up. They’re always the highlight of any scene they’re in. Throughout the story arc you get the impression that these two really get on each other’s nerves, but they bond and grow into really strong friends who bicker a lot but have each other’s backs when it counts.

Then there is a scene where Qibli casually tells Winter that he wouldn’t object if someone wanted to mind-control away some of Winter’s more objectionable traits.

This is genuinely a terrible thing to say to your friend. Like, it crosses a line and ceases to be harmless banter; you’re just telling them that there is something you hate about them so much that you wish they were someone else. Winter actually WAS mind-controlled earlier and felt (and proably still feels) guilty about having attacked Qibli in that state. And now Qibli says “Hey, I wouldn’t mind if someone did that to you again! Hue hue!”

It is awful, BUT I don’t necessarily object to Qibli saying this here. Qibli is in the middle of his character arc at this moment, so he is expected to be flawed. He is making a mistake by thoughtlessly telling Winter this horrid thing, and it seems like a believable continuation of his current character track. This is a reasonable development as long as the plot acknowledges that it’s a mistake.

Spoilers: The plot doesn’t acknowledge that it’s a mistake. Qibli never has a scene after where he reflects upon what he said and apologizes to Winter. When Darkstalker has Qibli trapped in his mountain jail and mind-wipes Qibli’s grandfather into a toddler (hey, wait a minute), Qibli gets visibly disturbed. Like, this is so off-putting to him that he gets queasy and Darkstalker hastily changes the spell. That could have been a great way to bring this back. Like in the epilogue, have Qibli track down Winter and tell him about disturbing baby grandpa theater and how he realized that wiping people’s minds is actually messed up and should have never said that to him.

But he doesn’t. He just lets Winter go, allowing him to believe he is broken and needs magical intervention to be tolerable. It leaves me to think that maybe he’s still okay with it, and fantasizing about rewriting his friend’s mind. Great.

Moonwatcher’s character death

You will find as this goes on that, I get the impression that the second half of this book takes all of the wonderful, endearing characters I have learned to love throughout the story and replaces them with really mean, or stupid, or otherwise inaccurate caricatures.

Moonwatcher’s relationship with Darkstalker gets plenty of setup and development in Moon Rising. You get the sense that these two could be great friends if their circumstances were a little different. It does a great job at making you think maybe Darkstalker is just misunderstood; maybe Moon should free him from his predicament.

Then at the end of Escaping Peril comes the emotional gut punch. Darkstalker actually IS a villain. He callously admits to Moonwatcher that he used his magic to make his own father gruesomely disembowel himself. Moonwatcher is horrified and disgusted that he would do that. There is no circumstance in which something like that would ever be okay. She ends the scene awash in tears because the person she thought was her friend is a murderer and a sadist. This is good, that is a natural reaction to what she was just told.

A few hours from there, in Talons of Power, Turtle finds Moon again and she is completely cool with Darkstalker walking free, despite crying her eyes out after feeling so betrayed earlier. That may seem strange, but this is still good because later, Darkstalker’s mind control plot is discovered. This scene was obviously written to set that up, Moon is mind-controlled into forgetting that Darkstalker could do something that morally reprehensible, and thus forgives him. This is also completely in line with his characterization in Legends: Darkstalker. It’s a kind of stunt he would pull to get Clearsight to shut up about him slipping into villainy.

In my earlier post I alluded to a moment where Moon is set to narrative auto-pilot and says something so rampantly off-kilter that it does irreversible, permanent damage to her character. It happens here, in the second half of book 10. Qibli gives Moon the Darkstalker protection earring, and Moon, somehow, says “I’m not being mind-controlled, Darkstalker really is my friend.”

I get what the plot tries to do here. It’s taking this concept of mind-control and adding a nuance, in an attempt to flesh out Darkstalker and give his character depth. He is ready to control everyone in the world, but for Moon, who is his best friend in this era, he wants her to remain herself. Perhaps this is his attempt at attonement for playing with Clearsight’s mind and driving her away from him. It is very touching in a way, viewed in isolation.

Unfortunately, it does not work with the full context of all the books. Because Moon is in auto-pilot mode right now, her main character trait is “Darkstalker=Friend,” so naturally she would speak in support of him. But this revelation has devastating retroactive consequences. The earlier scene that was written with Moon under mind-control is now altered into her having been in her right mind! She is completely okay with Darkstalker’s admittance to cold-blooded torture and evisceration, within hours of being so shocked by it that it made her cry and ready to denounce him. That is such a quick turnaround it’s giving me whiplash. And what’s more it turns Moon from a principled, upstanding girl into a sociopath who casually accepts gruesome torture and murder if it is committed by someone she likes.

Did Sutherland forget about the scene two books ago, where Darkstalker’s actions were so inconceivably horrid for Moon to learn of that she started crying? It baffles me that this made it into the final version. Her saying she was never mind-controlled makes Moon come off as so awful. This torture-excusing lunatic is not the same kind-hearted and insightful character I followed in all the other books.

Kinkajou’s character derailment

The world is a sad place when I have to question the way Kinjajou is written. Fortunately she is mostly fine, despite her having the biggest excuse to act out-of-character since she’s the victim of a mind-altering spell. Her only real moment of “what!?” comes at the end.

I already talked about her role in casting the spell that regresses Darkstalker into an infant. But I didn’t mention how her being the source of it is questionable in itself.

The clue is in the first paragraph of this section: She herself has experienced the effects of invasive mind-alteration. She was cursed by Anemone in the previous book to be in love with Turtle, and kind of half-struggles kind of not with it, it’s really strange. Turtle is appropriately horrified and acts like really awful things are happening, but then it’s mostly played lightly for some reason. My assumption is that Sutherland introduced this plot point, but then realized how uncomfortable this premise really is and tried to downplay it until the story got to a point where it could get done away with.

But I think the takeaway is still supposed to be that this was a horrid thing to do (which it absolutely is), and that Kinkajou will have to spend a lot of time trying to untangle her real emotions from the fake ones the spell created.

The point is: Kinkajou knows first-hand how awful it is to do something like that to another person. Ideally she should never even conceive of the idea to cast a spell like that, but if we’re really set on this Darkstalker baby thing and it has to happen, she should at least be a bit hesitant about it. And afterwards she should struggle with the guilt of having resorted to it. Not celebrate it and be proud, like it’s funny.

The assassination of Winter’s future

Now we come to the part I’ve alluded to previously; the part where all of these threads converge to utterly destroy one character and drive him to the brink of ruin. Let’s talk about Winter.

Prince Winter is the son of Tundra and Prince Narwhal, hatching in the same clutch as his sister Icicle. He spent his formative years being unfavorably compared to said sister—who easily took to traits that Icewing royalty considers desirable—whereas Winter struggled greatly to embody those same ideals. He was just a little too kind, too merciful, too gentle. As a result he often had to endure abuse from his parents, who made him feel like he was defective.

Because he was young and didn’t have any other frame of reference, he embraced this abusive narrative and began to drive himself with a vigor unreasonable for someone of his age. He scraped and cloyed for every bit of credit he could get, obsessing over advancing up the circle rankings in an attempt to “purge” the wrongness out of himself. To make his parents as proud of him as they were of Icicle.

This never worked. He was always seen as the runt, poised to embarrass the family name. Whatever he did, no matter how hard he strived, there was always something he could have done better.

The only real source of love and affirmation in his life was his older brother, Hailstorm. Where everyone else only saw what Winter wasn’t, Hailstorm embraced his brother despite of his “failings” and was openly affectionate with him. When Winter was with him, it was okay to not think about rankings all the time, and just be himself for a bit. I assume Hailstorm fulfilled a similar role for Icicle as well, which is why both of them love him dearly, and Icicle destroys her own life to bring him back.

Winter also has a fascination with scavengers, possibly because they are small and perceived as useless, like he himself is. He likely feels a kinship with them and observes them being craftier and more adept than everyone else sees them. This is therapeutic for him, to see that a thing can have merit even if no one wants to see it.

One day, he and Hailstorm sneak into Skywing territory so Winter can catch a scavenger as a pet. This excursion turns hostile when they are discovered by a roaming Skywing troop and faced with the prospect of capture, possibly execution. In a gambit to save Winter from this fate, Hailstorm mirrors the words of his parents, calling Winter pathetic and useless, so the Skywings will not think of him as a threat and show mercy. His act succeeds in convincing the Skywings, but it also convinces Winter, who does not understand Hailstorm only said these things to save his life. He returns home—believing his brother hated him all along—to face the wrath of his furious family for losing them “the desirable son”.

For all of his life, these themes have repeated themselves and haunted him. “I was born wrong and defective,” “I am unlovable,” “No one wants me.”

A few months after the war ends, Winter is one of the five Icewings enrolled in the newly founded Jade Mountain Academy. Shortly after departing, he unexpectedly returns home, having successfully rescued his older brother and bringing him back. He is made to believe that this erases his mistakes, his mother even pays him a backhanded compliment, an uncharacteristically “nice” gesture. He is promoted to the top of the rankings, finally his parents are proud of him.

But of course it is all a trick. The “adoration” afforded to him was all a ploy. Secretly, his parents abused power and tradition to arrange for Winter’s death. They force him into a lethal trial they intentionally rigged against him, all to finally erase that stain on their family’s honor.

Winter finally realizes the true nature of his parents’ opinion of him. Even when he succeeds, and does everything right, he is still defective, unlovable, and unwanted. He will never be anything else to his family. And so he leaves his homeland, pretending he is dead, resigned to live in hiding forever.

During this time, while at the brink of despair, Winter is able to draw strength from one source: His new friends from the academy. He vocalizes that, for all the abuse he suffered at the hands of his birth family, he fervently believes that THEY would never do anything like that to him. They chose to stuck with him, even when he was awful, and told him he was not hopeless. He was not a mistake; he could be deserving of love.

So naturally, he returns to them; they accept him readily, are willing to be his new surrogate family. When he almost burns to death at a later point, they fear and weep for him. When Qibli sets out to confront his own abusive family, Winter, despite being mind-controlled into a placid potato at the time, feels concerned enough for his friend’s safety to insist to come along (returning the favor of them accompanying him in his time of need in book 7). When Darkstalker’s mind control forces Winter to attack Qibli, he is shown ashamed and guilty of it once the control wears off again.

They bicker and struggle, and make mistakes, they break up but always come back together again. Time and time again the one thing that is always reinforced: When the cards are down, Winter loves his friends, and they love him. They would never intentionally hurt each other, or give up on each other.

I want you to keep in mind how wholesome, and loving, and mutually supportive this ramshackle band of misfits has been portrayed to this point... Because we’re moving on to the arc 2 finale, and it will do everything it can to corrupt all of it and consign Winter to a life of misery.

We arrive at aforementioned scene, where Moonwatcher receives her earring. Just a little bit prior, Winter had learned that Darkstalker unleashed a magical plague onto his people in an attempt to wipe them out. Now here is Moonwatcher, revealing that she is not under any spell, and has aligned herself with this guy willingly, speaking fondly of him as if he was a dear friend who never did any wrong. Winter takes this badly and accidentally breaks a vase; the narrative lingers on this moment and really tries to sell us on how unreasonable Winter’s reaction is, how he is overreacting, but let’s examine that interpretation for a moment.

Moonwatcher doesn’t yet know about the attempted Icewing genocide, but she DOES know about Darkstalker being okay with casting spells to inflict immeasurable torture upon those he hates. WE know that she knows this, so her stance here is already suspect. Yet she goes on to praise Darkstalker and refer to him as a friend. Look at this from Winter’s perspective. This “friend” of Moonwatcher just tried to kill his entire tribe, and he actually succeeded in killing his aunt, Queen Glacier, a person Winter greatly respects. Winter is currently unable to return to his homeland for fear of being branded a traitor. Even if he could return, he knows his obstinate and spiteful family would prevent him from attending the funeral, meaning he is not even afforded the basic dignity of saying farewell to his aunt. The aunt whom Darkstalker murdered by making her vomit her own blood until she withered away in her bed. And here is Moon, absolving the person who did this to Glacier from his appalling actions, despite knowing full well what Darkstalker is capable of and choosing to look away.

I don’t know about you, but I think I can forgive the grieving, emotionally overwhelmed boy for shattering a little pottery after hearing his trusted friend—who held his hand when he was dying—say that the guy who makes people disembowel themselves and wipes out entire countries may be misunderstood and not so bad. I think I would have a similar reaction. In fact, I would never want to talk to her ever again.

There is no way I can read this scene in which Moon doesn’t come off as either an absolute lunatic, or critically stupid and callous. In fact, based on her earlier behavior I half-expect her to get over the news of the attempted Icewing massacre in a couple hours, saying “Eh, it’s kinda bad, but you just have to do these kinds of things sometimes, you know? I’m sure he had his reasons.”

Then there is the part where Qibli makes his off-color comment about how Winter’s brain could really use a good wash. I already went into how it could have worked but didn’t. But with the timing here, we’ve already had Moon spit on their friendship, so as Winter’s other closest friend, it naturally follows that Qibli also craps on his feelings.

Consider the context: Winter comes from an abusive household where his parents forcibly tried to change him away from who he was to purge the “wrongness” from him. When they betray him and he narrowly escapes their attempt on his life, he re-affirms his belief in his friends, and the knowledge that they wouldn’t treat him like that gives him the strength he needs to keep going. But now, Qibli asserts that Winter DOES need to be altered, thereby AGREEING with Winter’s abusive parents, rendering Winter’s affirmation from book 7 erroneous. Qibli WOULD treat him like that if it made Winter less “intolerable”.

Neither Moonwatcher nor Qibli ever make an attempt to repair this rift. Winter is left betrayed and alone.

Stuff happens, and the forces of the Nightwings and Icewings come to blows over Jade Mountain. With his two closest friends having written him off and his support network eroded, Winter relapses into thinking he is worthless, seeks validation in unquestioning patriotism, and realigns himself with his abusive family by throwing himself into the battle. Nobody wants him to, in fact his parents still hate him for it, but whatever. His father dies and his mother blames him for it.

Meanwhile Turtle, Anemone, and Qibli are cooking up a solution to the battle problem. They have the idea to make everyone’s minds connect in a huge empathy wave for a few moments, which I think is a pretty interesting idea for what it’s worth. But then they teleport both armies back to their homes, and the spell sweeps Winter up with them, taking him out of the rest of the finale and bringing him to the Ice Kingdom. The characters say “whoops” but aren’t further concerned with the situation. It’s all a big laugh.

Let me remind you that Winter is currently considered not welcome on Icewing territory. His family, whom he was sent back with, is extremely abusive and vindictive. His friends know this. Said parents have previously arranged for him to be killed, and are still on record as wanting him dead. His friends KNOW this. And now he is alone with them and a gaggle of other royal Icewings who all are extremely pissed off at him for ruining their sacred trial site.

It is very possible that he is being torn apart and mauled by an enraged mob right now. He could be forced into captivity and flayed. Maybe the interim regent is sentencing him to death and getting the rope ready. There is a million different horrible things that could be happening to Winter right now, while he is trapped alone with people who hate him, things his friends would be reasonably able to anticipate. And nobody is doing anything to get him out of there, to suggest bringing him back, even though it would only take a single spoken sentence to do so! They aren’t even concerned!

Then the climax happens, strawberry thing and all, and we get the coup de grâce. After all is said and done, the group decides that Winter is untrustworthy, and that they must protect the secret of Darkstalker’s fate from him, because they fear if he knew he would kill Peacemaker.

Moon, who read Winter’s mind in book 6 and reached out to him about how the “ruthless Icewing warrior” persona in his head is a facade and how she sees he has a gentle and good heart... Moon, who in book 7 finds out about Winter’s secret deal to kill Glory and STILL trusts him, who calls out his bullshit to his face because she KNOWS how kind-hearted Winter is and that he would never resort to murder... Moon who, again, held his hand while he was dying... thinks that the dragon she has reminded of his compassionate nature time and time again would kill an innocent child.

This is disgusting. Moon believing that is so far off the mark with regards to anything this group has embodied or done for any of the last 4 books, that my only conclusion can be that these are different characters. Maybe the Nightwing library collapsed on top of original Moon, and when Darkstalker magiced her back to health she came back wrong or something. I don’t know.

So after all of this, Winter is left alone. He somehow escaped from the Ice Kingdom; luckily there is a timeskip so we can just gloss over the horrible situation he was put in by his friends. He thinks about Jade Mountain. He reflects on everything that happened, how his parents never really loved him... How they hated him so much they tried to kill him... How he despaired, but found solace in his friends who loved him for who he was.... How those friends then betrayed him too and magiced him away... How they didn’t care about what happened to him... And he decides he is done. He won’t bother going back. A few people, probably Sunny, reach out to tell him he is welcome back, but he says “it wouldn’t be fair to other Icewings if an exile took up a bed”. The decision isn’t hard to make, after all there is nothing left for him there. Everyone has written him off, moved on and left him behind.

Kinkajou visits sometimes, tries to stay in touch, but that’s just how she is. Maybe the others sent her to check on whether he’s going to become troublesome. They don’t trust him. Better to keep an eye on him, he might kill the baby.

With nowhere else to go, Winter moves to Sanctuary, a place for rejects like him. I picture him standing there, at the edge of a cliff staring blankly into the distance. He is completely alone; no one wants to go near him or talk to him beyond the bare necessities. He could probably make new friends with the Talons of Peace if he tried, but there is no point. Why should someone like him have friends? It wouldn’t work. They’d just decide he is too inconvenient to be around. Sooner or later they would just tell him to leave anyway. It's better not to try, so he doesn't get hurt again.

And slowly it dawns on him. His parents had been right all along. It was never them, or the others, it was him. He is the problem. The Icewings said it, Qibli said it, Moonwatcher said it. There is just something fundamentally wrong with him.

He is defective. He is unlovable. Nobody wants him. He will never be anything, or have anyone. And so he stands at the cliff, looking over the broken vase fragments of his life... This is who he is. Prince Winter. A mistake.

And quietly, where no one knows or cares, he does the only thing he has left to do... he begins to weep.

As it is written, the tale of Winter is the story of a boy who is told he is wrong for being alive. He closes his ears and tries to keep walking forward, desperate to prove that he is not an error, that he has merit. But this book comes out and it unmistakably says that he doesn’t. He is nothing, and he deserves to have nothing.

And I just cannot accept that.

Why did this have to happen?

I think that the author was really struggling with the ending of this book. I’ve said before how much of a corner she wrote herself into with such an invincible villain. I think she came up with the strawberry idea as a solution to this problem. But as she was writing it, the characters kept fighting her. It was not a natural solution, not a decision the characters—as they were established—would ever make.

So concessions had to be made to force the issue. Established traits had to be bent slightly to make this plot work. The farther she went, the worse it got. The concessions piled up and turned into contrivances. Eventually the characters were no longer acting like themselves. Their bonds got stretched too far and some snapped. It’s a very tragic pitfall that occurs with long-running series.

I think Sutherland must have also been tired. Writing an entire book is a monumental task, and writing 6 connected ones even moreso. She also comes out with these things really quickly. Maybe she was burnt out? Maybe she wanted to be done and her attention lapsed. Maybe that’s why she forgot that Moon knew about the disemboweling. It seems reasonable to believe when you consider that the next story arc would make a relatively clean break from the problems of this arc, especially with regards to the magic system.

But I don’t know what ultimately happened, so I can only speculate. I reiterate, I bear no ill will against Sutherland for writing this. Even if I kind of hate everything about this finale, and very vocally wish it would be different, I don’t want this examination to generate (or reawaken) any hatred towards her, or to attack her personally. I understand the pain of an artist who gets trapped with something for too long and has to find the means, any means, to see it through to the end. I criticize the story, but I could never hate anyone for that.

But for me, I do not consider this half of the book as part of the story. The characters act too unnaturally for it to have happened. So to me, it didn’t. We don’t know what happened, maybe Darkstalker is still out there. Maybe they dealt with him. Maybe what actually happened is my crappy and self-indulgent rewrite of the ending which I will never show to anyone because it would be really embarrassing.

But whatever actually ended up happening, I am sure Winter never ended up at that cliff, pondering how worthless and meaningless his life was. He is currently at Jade Mountain, surrounded by friends who love him, and bickering with Qibli about the correct solution to their advanced calculus assignment that is due tomorrow.

Is there anything left to say?

Probably.

I didn’t talk about Anemone yet. You know, in the epilogue she enchants herself a bracelet that makes her “not be so mean all the time”. I find that creepy. To me it reads as Anemone voluntarily brainwashing herself with magic to erase her negative traits instead of growing past them naturally because she finds them undesirable and wants to work to change for the better. I would ordinarily assume that this is an overreaction on my part, and I’m just reading the scene wrong. But no, we just got through a part where the heroes brainwashing someone is treated as an unequivocal good and worthy of celebration, so I think my reading may actually be spot on. Why are we letting the little kid alter her own brain without supervision? Hello? Tsunami? Someone intervene maybe? This cannot be healthy.

Turtle stands out to me as the one bright spot in all of this. He (and Peril, but she’s mostly out of focus) remain as the only main characters of this arc who don’t have any mind-boggling out-of-character moments or sudden streaks of uncharacteristic callousness. I really like the part where Qibli goes to free Turtle from his captivity and plans to give him an earful about the comically unhelpful messages he’s been sending him. But when Turtle asks if what he did was helpful, Qibli sees how beaten down and exhausted Turtle is, and wordlessly drops his frustration to tell him “Yeah, they were helpful.” That is the true Qibli shining through for a moment, showing that he cares about the well-being of his friends.

Do I hate the pairing of Qibli/Moonwatcher? No. Well, I DO hate how it happened in the book, and how the story tried to assassinate Winter’s character to resolve the love triangle and make it happen. I don’t hate it on principle though. If you are a fan of Qibli/Moonwatcher and want to write fanfics about it, please do! I absolutely encourage you to do that! Maybe you can fix this mess and turn it into something that’s actually properly handled!

Mightyclaws keeps the power that Darkstalker granted him past the finale. That means all the spells that Darkstalker cast are technically still active. Does that mean the Icewings have to wear earrings for the rest of their lives? Do they get sick again if they take them off? Is Peril forever cursed to think of Darkstalker as a cool old uncle and has to somehow reconcile how everyone else thinks of him? How did the Nightwings relinquishing their powers work, do they have to wear the earrings forever too now?

And there is one more thing to mention.

My confession

You may have already intuited this, if you’ve been following the content of my blog. It is very heavily skewed towards the first and second arcs of the series. I would now like to confess something.

When I read the second half of book 10, I found it so disillusioning, Winter’s fate so upsetting... that I put down the series then and there. And I haven’t picked it back up since.

That’s right, I have not read arc 3. I don’t know if that makes me a fake fan. I know pretty much everything that happens in it, the controversial twist at the end, Pyrrhia coming back into the story later, Snowfall getting brainwashed by a piece of jewelry until she cares about a plot that had nothing to do with her or the fate of the Icewings, etc..

It’s not out of malice, or because it’s a new continent. The opposite in fact; I would have greatly prefered a clean break with a new setting—Bug-themed dragons in a slightly more contemporary, developed environment sounds fascinating and full of potential. I don’t hate Pantala or the new characters.

I just... I can’t really do this again. I can’t handle the thought of Pyrrhia coming back post-Darkstalker, with Winter showing up and talking to these guys again like nothing happened, seeming like a different person, joking around with them like his entire character wasn’t dragged through a mountain of manure to make the plot bend a certain way. I think as long as this is the ending that the story is continuing from, seeing that would just make me miserable.

Maybe I will just stay in the parts of the story that I fell in love with. And imagine a version of reality in which Pantala is allowed to exist on its own, where Swordtail was the fourth POV character of arc 3, where Queen Wasp stayed the villain throughout, and Snowfall got her own legends book about how she reformed Icewing society and fixed all the shit that poisoned Winter’s life, so future generations don’t have to suffer through the same stuff he did.

~~~~~

If you’re still with me, thank you for reading this far. I think this is everything I ever thought about the finale of the second story arc, so now I never have to talk about it again. Writing this was difficult. I found it crushing at times. This will probably stand as the only overtly negative post I have ever made on this blog. I love Wings of Fire, and I want to celebrate it. To add to it, not tear it down.

I hope this wasn’t too boring, or painful, or frustrating, or soul-crushing to read through. I’ll see you later, hopefully with a more constructive post.

[yayll]

~ a little something about Dazai surprising you on your day off ~

Dazai's not by any means an early riser... That is unless he gets to see you that day.

It's 8 AM and he's tapping his fingers against his pant leg lightly, but he's actually really anxious and impatient. He’s waiting for you to open the front door and flash him that life changing smile of yours he’s been coveting for all week. Today’s your day off and he's decided to come over and spend the day with you so he can cherish every single moment, totally not because he’s slacking off work and wants to do the only other thing he does with his life other than avoid his responsibilities: Be the bane of your existence. You also have a nasty little habit of being a workaholic and he's here to break that once and for all. He's completely spaced out now, lips pursed and brows slightly furrowed in thought when suddenly-

You finally open the door. His angel, his everything. He immediately switches his whole demeanor, eyes twinkling as he scans your figure. You’re still in pajamas, and your hair looks messy. You look absolutely delectable for someone who just woke up to 3 missed calls and 10 texts. Dazai smirks as he leans in, wiggling his brows in an exaggerated manner.

"Well look who’s finally awake! What a sleepy little thing you are. Makes me jealous of that stupid bed of yours… Did you get my texts? Come here"

He looms over you in the middle of the doorway, kissing you softly, tenderly and hungrily.

You blink, and before you can catch your bearings you’re interrupted by the softness of his eager lips. If your mouth opens, he’s pouncing. After a few moments of uninterrupted bliss, you pull back, eyes still drowsy and breathing a bit shallow. You yawn, running your fingers through your bedhead.

“Sorry. I, um… was still asleep until now. I was trying to sleep in-”

He gasps, and tilts his head, as if baffled by this.

“Now why would you do that when we have plans today?”

“... We don’t, though?”

Dazai laughs, dismissing your rightful confusion. He knows you guys never discussed plans, he just doesn't care. He lightly pinches your nose in between his fingers.

“We do! It’s why I let you sleep in for a few extra hours before coming over.”

You lazily swat at him, crinkling your nose. He’s swooning! Dazai feels a jolt of electricity through his body upon seeing the way you respond to his doting. Making you flustered is his favorite entertainment, besides suicide of course.

“But it’s 8 AM.”

“Exactly! That’s like half the day."

"... How long have you been up for?”

He rolls his eyes affectionately as he buffs his knuckles on his tan coat, replying with a nonchalant hum.

“Hmm, not important— What’s for breakfast?”

He lets himself into your apartment and you sigh into a defeated smile that somehow still holds affection for this ridiculous man. You follow him as he strides to the kitchen and fold your arms across your chest.

“You know, I’m kinda grumpy right now. It’s too early, Osamu. I need my sleep."

“And might I say you look absolutely stunning when you’re grumpy? How ever did I get this lucky…”

“Keep it up and I’ll get even worse, you goofball.”

Dazai smiles, it’s sly and dangerous. A challenge, he hears? He pretends to think for a moment, his finger placed on his lips as if really contemplating something. He’s just picturing what you’d look like yelling at him. Heavenly, of course. He flashes you a tender smile as if you just said the most romantic thing and curls his arm around your waist, whispering.

“Ooh, then I can’t wait to see worse.~”

You roll your eyes, unable to help the pink hue spreading over your face. Maybe you're still half asleep, maybe you’re just hopelessly in love with him. Either way you’re screwed. You whine with a hint of annoyance.

“Osamuuuu…”

Oh how he loves when you say his name like that. Maybe it’s time for you two to skip breakfast, he already does anyway, but he knows you actually need nutrients to function. He replies in a singsong voice.

“Yeeesss?”

“I’m making pancakes and you are going to sit down and wait.”

You point at the kitchen counter trying to be stern, and of course, failing miserably.

He looks back at the stool and then back at you. He leans within inches of your face, his nose poking yours. He clicks his tongue disapprovingly and winks.

“No can do, cutie~”

You two spend the morning making breakfast, or at least trying to. YOU are trying to, anyway. Everytime you go to gather ingredients, he’s already handing them to you. When your back is turned to him, you feel his arms snaking around you as you flip pancakes unevenly due to the distracting trail of kisses he's leaving down your neck. You secretly smile to yourself whenever you’re not feigning irritation, you know he loves the banter… Why not indulge the poor man?

You serve two plates and sit down, along with two mugs of coffee. Dazai isn’t allowed to have caffeine around you, but once again, you took pity on him today for some reason… or is it his mystifying persuasion manipulation at play here? He takes a sip of his mug and a satisfying ‘Ahh’ releases soon after. He flickers his eyes towards you as you're about to sip yours as well, and it’s like the world stops. His pupils dilate and he watches intently as the rim reaches your lips, resting his chin on his palm as he leans lazily over the counter. He’s like a dog watching its owner adoringly. During his trance-like state, he thinks about how if you lived together this would be his every day routine. He could get used to watching you drink coffee and eat food. You'd wake up next to each other and hold hands as you watch the sun rise. He would tell you how breathtaking you look with bedhead and make you late for work after failing to keep his hands to himself. Maybe then you wouldn't think he's such an impenetrable wall of secrets. He wonders if there's a future where all of that happens... He snaps out of it, and murmurs.

“Can I have a taste?”

You perk up and look over, tilting your head to the side, amused.

“What, the coffee? You have your own.”

He’s so focused now, staring at your full lips, thinking of a proper answer. He wants to tell you that he's never had intimate moments like these with anyone else and he doesn’t know how long it’ll last before his luck with you runs out, that he’s afraid you’ll see right through his one dimensional facade and leave him for good. That you won’t follow him to his untimely demise should he ever fall, so he has to capture every second of it so he can keep you in his mind forever. He has to lock you up in his heart and throw away the key, otherwise becoming a man of virtue loses all its meaning.

Instead, he opts for the less complicated route, the corners of his lips curling up into a coy smile as he places a gentle hand on your thigh.

“No, your lips, dummy. I want to taste the coffee off of your lips.”

There are no words for the audacity of Osamu Dazai and the feelings thrashing inside you when he says things like that. You smile bashfully and look away, unable to accept his shameless flirting.

“You’re so weird, Osamu…”

“Mm, I'm so yours. No takesies backsies.~"

You slowly meet his gaze, his watchful eyes that ooze devotion practically holding yours hostage… God, you are so beautiful to him. Before you can even register it, Dazai scoops you up bridal style and carries you to the living room, laying you down on the soft couch. His eyes darken as he looks down at you, his fingers tracing the outline of your lips. As soon as you show him the look of love that gives him the consent he’s looking for, he doesn’t think twice about it. He grabs your chin and pulls you into a messy kiss. He kisses you rough, his tongue almost immediately sliding into your mouth as he moans into you. His moans turn into whimpers, like he's been starved of touch for far too long and you're satiating the hunger. He needs to taste the coffee you just drank, and he wants you to know exactly how much he's been aching for this moment. For your much needed day off. For you.

He keeps his hand at your chin, pressing you down deeper into the couch with his hips grinding against yours as he tastes the acidity of the coffee along with the honey you sweetened it with.

Finally, when you literally cannot breathe, you pull away with your dazed and blissed out expression, all red in the face just like he loves. You mumble in between pants.

“Wait— So... What exactly was the plan for today?”

He looks up from running his tongue along your jawline and flashes you that infamously deceptive smile he perpetually keeps on his face, tapping his index finger on your cheek. His voice comes out in a breathy whisper.

“Breakfast.”

“.. But we already had breakfast.”

He sighs deeply and his finger ghosts its way from your cheek down to the waistband of your pajama bottoms as he needily mumbles in your ear.

“Still hungry.. I’m a growing boy, you know.~”

You let out a breathless laugh, shaking your head.

"You're going to tire me, Osamu.. Work wears me out enough as is-"

He wiggles a finger at you, face full of sickening desire as he carefully lowers his head down by your stomach, resting his cheek on your soft flesh. He murmurs in that soft pleading way that drives you insane when he combos it with his reverent touch.

"Listen to me, please. No more work talk... No more stressing out your pretty self, okay? I haaaaate demanding jobs. It only takes you away from me."

You look down and simply nod, your eyes trained on the way he looks at you from under his lashes and the soft brown hair that frames his face. Your heart races with anticipation as a smile slowly creeps up onto your lips. You don't need words for what comes next.

For the rest of the day, he makes sure you have the best time off, it's the least he can do as your incredibly attentive and not selfish at all boyfriend! A day where you can shut out all thoughts of work... along with literally anything else that doesn't relate to him.

Unfortunately for you, there is no resting involved on said day. Fortunately for Dazai, you look so cute as you writhe under him for hours on end. That'll get it through your pretty little skull not to work so much.

[3142-redgrave-avenue]

Welp its over for ikemen 2007 anime dante. Goodbye. So long, your google image results. I will miss you and cherish every frame i have left before April 2025.

The time has come, my handsome devil.

[cosmerelists]

Bridge 4 Discuss Terrible Pickup Lines

As (sort of) requested by @dewypeach and @imtheseventh

So back when @cam-ulu29 asked for a Kaladin flirting list, I ran a poll about whether it should be a sincere, sweet list or a list full of terrible, out-of-character pickup lines. The former won by a MILE, but some people were interested in the latter. Dewypeach & imtheseventh in particular suggested doing something with Bridge 4 either suggesting terrible pickup lines or having Kaladin try them out. So here's something like that!

Skar: Worst pickup lines you can come up with. Go.

Lopen: I suggested one for Kaladin, but it wasn't terrible--it was really good. He acted like it was terrible, though--does that count?

Kaladin: It WAS terrible.

Kaladin: And...weird.

Kaladin: I'm not going to flirt with Dalinar. He is my boss. And married. And old.

Lopen: So what I said, right, was that Kal should look Dalinar right in the eye, all serious-like, and say, "My relationship with my father is terrible. Will you be my new Daddy?"

Moash: [spits out drink]

Skar: No!

Lopen: Listen, it would work! I can read a man, and I KNOW that would work on Dalinar!

Kaladin: I DON'T WANT TO FLIRT WITH DALINAR, MY MARRIED ELDERLY BOSS

Lopen: Okay, okay! If you prefer to flirt with Navani, you just gotta roll up with something like, "So I heard you like long, thick towers. It just so happens that I..."

Kaladin: NO

Moash: See, the thing is, Kal, you're attractive enough that you could probably get away with a really bad pickup line.

Moash: I bet you could tell someone that you want to "Plunge straight into their their Honor Chasm" and I bet it would work.

Kaladin: That would absolutely not work.

Moash: You say that, and yet...

Rock: Moash has point, though! We are all well-known now, yes? All good-looking (except maybe for Lopen, who is unfortunately very short). I think men like us get away with some pretty bad lines, yeah?

Letyen: "You did a bridge run straight into my heart."

Moash: "I wanna explore YOUR chasms."

Kaladin: (What's you and the chasms, man?)

Lyn: "Let's...bridge this distance between us."

Teft: "I'm from Bridge 4. Do you want to get a drink?"

Skar: "Let me show you how good I am with my spear."

Sigzil: "You prefilled the forms in my heart."

[They all look at him]

Sigzil: What? In Azir, that's a very effective line.

Moash: Is that true, though, or are you making up Azir stories to trick us stupid Alethi?

Sigzil: [sips drink enigmatically]

Kaladin: Fine, fine, okay!

Kaladin: If I wanted to "pick someone up" with my Bridge 4 cred, I guess I'd try something like...

Kaladin: ...

Kaladin: Uh... How about: "My days in the bridge crews were horrible and dark. I barely survived. I lost a lot of friends. Good friends. It haunts me still. But now that I'm out, I've decided to live. And that means doing things that make me WANT to live."

Kaladin: "Like going out with you!"

Kaladin: [Looks at them expectantly]

Moash: Oh, Kal...

Lopen: Even your pretty face can't save that one, gon...

Skar: The thick tower line is looking better and better...

Kaladin: WELL YOU GUYS ARE THE ONES WHO BROUGHT IT UP

[lk0727]

I'm crying because I love the idea of correspondence between the students leaving next year and I'd love to see more of it. The white day cards are so cute that I just want to elaborate (hc) on handwriting and maybe even writing quirks. Just Malleus (for now...)

Malleus would be really interested in how his partner writes, it's all so fascinating to him and he's a pattern noticer. The noticerrrr. And he sees so much that he even finds himself compiling all the repetitive actions you take when writing -not just what you're writing, and brings them to you to discuss further. The way you slant letters, when your pen lets up, if you type then the frequency of paragraph breaking, how you insert images, etc. I think it'd be something like "Did you know you tend to smudge the paper when you reach the furthest margin, are you perhaps left-handed? Oya, you are? I knew that to be the case." He says with a slight smile and downturned gaze because he knows he ate that. Sherlock Horns.

He would get overzealous about the fact that you're only a word away and would immediately call you with his archaic phone and pester you until you receive it. His Correspondence wouldn't actually be a surprise because you are usually visited by a heavy knock on your door and fae appropriate fanfare when it arrives, that's just etiquette when writing royalty. But, he always calls you the day he receives it so that you know he shall be returning post haste and he intends to dazzle you. In fact, you'll spend so long speaking to each other about what was written to him, that when you finally get his response, it's more or less just recapping what you spoke of two days prior. He can't hide his giddyness, even if he keeps a cool baritone while on the phone. Because you're a kind person, you pretend that his tail happily thumping against the ground is inaudible, because you know he can't help it.

He is going to surprise you by the emojis he uses because WHO taught you that!?!? He learned these from Cater and Lilia, but he doesn't change the way he speaks. It's "Good evening, How have you've been? The summer season of Briar Valley is particularly exhausting and hot💧, I am very bothered by the heat of it all.🥵🥵" and when Lilia intercepts it, he's like "that's a perfect sentence, go ahead and send it. Actually, one note, send more sweating emojis, it's really hot this summer, right?"

Your messages go through a diverse array of moderators and middle men. Those people being his Grandmother, who reminds him that he's a prince, Lilia and Silver (the two who initially opened the letter, and finally his transcriber and narrator, Sebek who scoffs at the quality of the smut you're peddling his young master, who shouldn't even be hearing this, but he'll read on against his better judgement. (It's literally benign, the furthest thing from smut, Malleus argues). His letters would look a little like this:

21.09.19XX Child, It's been nice knowing you.😌 Why do I say that? Since we've met, it seems as if Briar Valley has taken a lead in comedy and our collective temperament could not be more jovial. Your humorous description of your familiar, Grim child, was very well received by my Grandmother, as I was awoken early enough to the sounds of insects humming and birds chirping well into the night to read it aloud to me, guffawing as she spoke. (I apologize, I cannot stop her from opening my mail, but we're working on her problematic behavior, that's a fact.😉) She in particular has asked if she may keep it, you know how older individuals are with their chucklesome cat stories. 🙄 There's this understanding of the world that I just don't possess when it comes to what grabs the attention of the people's comedy, it continues to evade me. For instance, what is the humor of "surprise hot dog 🌭" and why must it be a surprise to be enjoyed? The children of Briar Valley seemingly shout this and end their sentences with it, and I am surprised and annoyed every time. It seems like you have an understanding in the matters of humor, so you are welcome to explain it to me. But I digress, If I sat down and listed to you all the things that escaped me, well, you might find yourself as old as I am by the time we've finished! 🤣The trees and wind must sense the happiness in our friendly union, and have planned accordingly to block out bad weather🌧️ and unforgiving spirits. The weather is nice enough that (forgive me I've overstretched my hand) planned your visit for sooner rather than later. Next time we meet in person, this shall be us ->🕺💃, as I've already made arrangements for a night in a cabaret club in the Capitol for us to partake in. It's a culture so far from the realm of possibility of establishing itself in our quiet little country, that I was astounded when I stumbled across its zoning request permits one day and I rushed to see it in person, paperwork be damned. The smaller fae who perform insist it to be a "cheeky, yet inoffensive showcase of the arts", and after witnessing it for myself, I knew it would be the type of entertainment you'd enjoy.🤫 Even now, it doesn't feel natural to write, like an odd mouth feel that doesn't change as I turn it over and over. A cabaret in Briar Valley, a music club in a quiet kingdom... it's as I've mentioned earlier, Briar Valley has surprisingly given itself wholly to the Joviality of life. Sincerely yours; Malleus Draconia, Heir to Briar Valley p.s Surprise hot dog 🌭

On the other hand, as confident as he is in your responses, he's always a little embarrassed to send something back. It's not fear of his ability, but rather, if you'll care to hear about the day to day of a crown prince who's routine is very boring and full of nothingburger drama. He doesn't understand that his 18 page assessment of his life is literally replacing the cable you can't afford, and when he describes the way the lion prince attacked him during a diplomatic meeting, the colorful language of his response makes you laugh, and then cry, and even gag because "how did he get close enough to gash you!?" You can see the face he's making as he writes this, pouty and angry and even chuckling when he describes the punishment that followed. Just like in his real life, Malleus has a hard time concealing his emotions. He's not shy about who he is as a person, and his writing is not either. The way it flows is a little different from traditional correspondence, if anything, he's sending you disjointed journal entries and prose while also clipping what you send him to respond directly. Your 2 page crapped out response filled with emojis and memes and inside jokes is returned in full by 20 pages of thoughtful dialogue, assessments of politics and fondness of your life, and even sketches of the things around him (okay... just gargoyles and Sebek, but those are things in all fairness.) He has a real zest that he doesn't try to contain, and even his handwriting gives it away. When he's in a good mood, it's very pristine, heavily slanted cursive that his heavy hand oppresses by not dotting his i's or crossing his t's. It's just understood between you two what he means. Likewise, when he's angry or melancholic it's surprisingly very light, almost inelligeble as if he was speaking through gritted teeth. He must be getting up and pacing, because of course he is. When upset or recounting something terrible, his handwriting is unusually neat, funnily enough the sentences are much shorter, as if he's hiding something or thinking long about what should be said next. He's a very wistful person, after all.

Malleus enjoys fine art that seeks to appease the senses and refine beauty, so attached to his letters will often be trinkets like necklaces, earrings, watches, and pocket squares that he found in shops in Briar Valley, or a ticket to a play or music shows that dazzled him. The heavier packages (these tend to come at random) are filled with small desserts, books on the anthropological history of different fae species, woven pieces from more aesthetically competent fae and their fashion, and of course, fragmented pieces of ancient gargoyles he found hiding in deserted rooms of the castle. <- He'll know if you've thrown it away, so hold on to the heavy, weird rock fragment, please.

[bbernard-03]

Begin Again

˚｡ ❀ ˚｡The Beginning˚｡ ❀ ˚｡

Summary: The weight of it all finally gets too much, and the decision is made, but will the kind words of a stranger be enough to shine a light into the blinding darkness?

Warnings: use of y/n, mentions of suicidal thoughts/suicide

thank you @bernardsbendystraws for proofreading and being the best <3

**i do not consent to my work being copied, used for inspiration, or republished**

prologue <- -> next part

----------

Two weeks ago, I was prepared to take my own life. The decision made, the plan in place, the letter… almost written. The plan was halted when a brown-haired, ocean-eyed stranger reminded me why life was worth living. Why my story was worth completing. Matt spent hours with me that night discussing everything from dreams and fears to thoughts and memories. He breathed life back into me, and I will never be able to repay him for that. 

Today, I was walking down the streets of the small town I had escaped to, facing the daily challenge that Matt had so graciously deemed upon me: Do something for yourself. After much deliberation and argument, I walked towards an ice cream shop I used to love as a kid. The happy memories were plagued with the dark events in the years that followed. I paused as I approached the double doors, taking a shaky breath. I took out my phone and typed out a message.

Y/N:

I can’t do it. 

I stared at the screen, watching the bubbles appear almost instantly in the bottom corner. 

Matt: 

Yes, you can. Remember, there are things worth living for. You’re working on finding them. 

I sigh and gnaw at my bottom lip. 

Y/N:

I’m trying. I really am. But I don’t think I can do this. It’s too much. 

Matt: 

Look up, sweetheart. 

I lifted my eyes and saw Matt standing a few feet away with a comforting smile as he approached me. He placed his hand on my shoulder, his thumb gently caressing the bare skin. 

“You can do this. You have to do something for yourself. Ice cream is a treat, right?” He asks softly, his words firm and encouraging. 

“Yeah, ice cream’s a treat. I just..” My voice trails off as I stare at the ice cream parlor before me. “I just haven’t been here in a very long time.” My voice is soft, filled with nostalgia and a hint of pain. 

“Do you want to try something else?” He offers gently. Despite my stubbornness and hesitations, in the past two weeks, he has never once lost his patience with me. 

“No,” I say softly. “This used to be my favorite place.. This is for me.” I say with as much confidence as possible, which isn’t much. He smiles softly at me. 

“Lead the way.” 

I shakily grasp the door handle and pull it open, the familiar scent filling my nose as I step through the door, Matt following closely behind. 

“Oh, our little Rainbow!” A voice exclaims from behind the counter. My head snapped up as I saw Belinda, the older woman who runs the shop. 

“Mrs.B!” I exclaim happily as she rounds the counter and crushes me in a hug. 

“It has been too long, my girl. You’re all grown up. Let me look at you!” She states and holds me at arm's length as she examines every part of me. “Your hair is longer.” She says softly. 

“I decided to grow it out.” I smile softly. “It’s so good to see you, Mrs.B.” 

“I love it; it suits you and makes you look like an adult.” She smiles widely and then notices Matt. “And who’s this?” She asks with a slight smirk on her face. 

“This is Matt,” I say with a smile. “Just a friend, Mrs.B.” I giggle and turn to Matt. “She tends to romanticize everything.”

“I can’t help being in love with love!” She exclaims with faux dramatics. “You want your usual, Rainbow?” I can’t help but smile at the fact that she remembers my order despite it having been almost ten years since I’ve set foot in the shop. 

“Yes, please, Mrs.B. One for Matt too,” I say sweetly. 

Five minutes later, we’re both sitting at a small booth in the corner of the shop, sipping strawberry milkshakes. I hum lightly along with the music and glance around at the parlor. Nothing had changed in the last decade and it’s oddly comforting. 

“What’re you thinking about, hm?” Matt asks, looking at me curiously. 

“Just how much nothing has changed here. It’s.. comforting.” I smile softly at him. 

“How often did you use to come here?” He questions gently. 

“Every day, every summer.. Until I was 13.” I glance around again as if trying to memorize every detail. 

“Why’d you stop?” His question, seemingly innocent, creates a heavy pit in my stomach. 

“Mom and Dad got divorced that spring. Nobody was really up for family vacations after that.” I say quietly, omitting most of the details, unsure if it was for his or my benefit. Matt looked at me curiously, almost instantly knowing there was more to the story but choosing to pick his battles in breaking down my walls. 

“I’m sorry that happened,” he spoke softly. “This seems like a very special place, especially to you.” 

“It was.. Is.. This town, this shop, it was the focal point of my childhood. The happiest memories I have.” My voice was dripping with heartache as I recalled all the years spent here before my family crumbled to pieces. 

Matt and I sat in comfortable silence for the rest of the visit. The only sound being the hum of the machine and occasional conversations between Mrs.B and customers. Despite the ache in my chest remembering the happy moments, I can’t help but feel a sliver of relief that I’m here. I’m making new memories, happy ones. I look at Matt, a small smile on my face. He was the reason I was here. 

“What?” He asks with a soft chuckle. “Do I have something on my face?” He wipes around his mouth. 

“No,” I giggle. “I.. I’m just.. I feel a little better than okay right now.” My words are met with Matt's bright smile. 

“I am so glad, sweetheart.” He reaches across and squeezes my hand before pulling it back. He’s made sure to respect my personal space these past two weeks, never having physical contact with me more than necessary. Another fact on the list of why he’s the best person I’ve ever met. 

“I’m grateful for you,” I say simply. He looks at me, and I can see the happiness on his face. 

Once we finish our milkshakes, we begin the stroll back. The air swirling around us, the hint of saltiness from the ocean soothing every ache in my soul. I take in my surroundings inch by inch. A flower had bloomed more than it was yesterday, I saw a new face pass by us, a little girl hugged her Mom after getting a toy. Joy. A feeling I had almost forgotten existed. 

This was where I was meant to be. I think.

[rey-jake-therapist]

Ok, here am I again posting another TROP/Haladriel meta... Feel free to mute me if you can't take it anymore, these are gonna be two long weeks as there are still two episodes left...

We're having a lot of discussions about what we'll get to see in Episode 8 (maybe even a bit in episode 7??), and it's really great and exciting to speculate about what will happen when our two love birds mortal enemies finally meet again.

It seems to be the general consensus that Sauron will try again to convince her to be his queen. Now I may be the dissonant voice, but I personnally don't think it will be that straightforward.

Charlie said several times that Sauron was pissed that Galadriel rejected him, but that it wasn't the end of the world, for him. Meaning: he totally believes he can make it without her.

To the Nerdist, he said :

"Speaking of your old screenmate, Sauron asked Galadriel to be his queenOpens in a new tab at the end of season one of The Rings of Power. How much, if at all, does he still want that by this point? And does he think it’s a possibility? Vickers: I think he probably does think it’s still a possibility because he has this hubris and this self-love. He thinks he’s really cool, and he thinks, “Well, she rejected me once, but next time I come back for her, she won’t reject me again because I’ll be so powerful she won’t be able to.” But I don’t think he necessarily wants that. I think his initial proposal to her was to join him, and they could be king and queen of Middle-earth, but really, he would’ve been king, and she would’ve been his righthand woman. Any kind of dreams he has involve her being number two and him being number one."

(I would love to see him try to submit Galadriel to his will, btw. I mean, c'mon man)

To Collider, he said,

"His getting rejected definitely leaves him with this sour taste in his mouth, and he goes away thinking, “I can make this right.” Whatever that means to him. That's one of his throughlines in terms of his motivation or goals for this second season is how much he's driven and how much this relationship gives him a sense of purpose."

And to Schön:

That connection will endure as long as the show endures because although they might not be together in proximity when we pick it up, he’s pissed off that she has turned his pitch down [laughter]. That drives him to think, I can make her join me, or I’ll make her pay for this.

Here, there's also an interview he gave for Total Films, where he reveals that there's a "huge amount of urgency in each of them trying to obtain what they want in that situation": https://x.com/totalfilm/status/1830244276539654595

I'm sure I've read an interview where Charlie said that Sauron would probably want to taunt Galadriel with what they could have done together had she said yes. Edit : found it! Interview for TV Insider.

Second to his lust for more rings is Sauron’s desire to get the Elven rings back. “While he didn’t directly touch them, which is a big thing this season, [Galadriel] has this ring that he put all this effort into, and he wants that back,” Vickers admits. Sauron “covets” these jewels, “and particularly hers,” he explains, “because he knows what they represented when he was making them.” Sauron feels “taunted” and “pissed off” that Galadriel rejected him. That makes getting her ring back personal, but Vickers insists that “he’s past ruling with her.” That won’t stop him from showing her “what could have been, what you could have had,” Vickers teases.

Of course Charlie can't give much away. But so far, it matches with what we saw in season 2 : he's in Eregion, forging his rings of power with Celebrimbor, he's visibly happy (just kidding, the man looks exhausted and depressed), but sometimes he can't help but think of Galadriel.

I love how the experience is completely different for him, from it is for Galadriel: while she had a bittersweet flashback of her and Halbrand in the Southlands, he gets lost in the contemplation of Mirdania's hair because she reminds her of Galadriel, and manifests images in his mind palace that also remind him of her (there are several posts about all this on Tumblr, including one of mine... I won't enter into the details again).

It would be very OOC of Sauron to display an outright nostalgia for the time he spent with Galadriel as Halbrand, imho, even if it was only for the audience to see. He's not supposed to be sad and nostalgic, but pissed at her for rejecting him, and determined to move on and to obtain what he wants without her in the picture. He's probably annoyed af to see his thoughts shifting towards Galadriel while he's in the middle of something very important. He's in his "the fuck with her" phase of the breakup, which pretty much matches what Charlie said. In his hubris, he believes that once he has his rings, he will be so powerful that Galadriel will have no other choice than joining him. She hurt his pride, so now he wants to relish the sight of her submission to him.

Regarding the mind palace scene, precisely the one where the guy tells the Galadriel look alike he wrote a poem : it probably remained unnoticed by most viewers, but I think it's very significant that this scene arrived at THIS moment. Let me explain:

To convince Celebrimbor, Sauron first assures him that when the story of this age is written, the Silmarils will be "no more than a whisper". Of course it's meant to motivate Celebrimbor who always wanted to create something that would be remembered, like the Silmarils. But it can be interpreted as a personal goal for Sauron as well :

1) Morgoth found the Silmarils so beautiful that for weeks, "he could do nothing but stare into their depth".

2) Fëanor admired Galadriel's hair so much it gave him the idea of imprisoning and blending the light of the Trees, and three times requested a tress of hers (she always said 'no').

The two people he loved/admired but hurt him the most are connected to the Silmarils in a way, so he could see the creation of something "more precious" as a personal challenge. After he promises Celebrimbor that his rings of power will be "deemed the most precious creations in all Middle-Earth", and Celebrimbor returns to his workshop, his attention is caught by the sight of a couple. The man (whose face remains unseen, because he's a just a self-insert) tells the Galadriel look alike :

"I've written a poem, but I fear your beauty still overshadows anything I could possibly write."

Of course we joked about Sauron's pathetic attempt at poetry (it's terrible lol), but imho there was a deeper meaning to this scene. I think it was his subconscious manifesting what he already knows deep inside of him : that without Galadriel's light, there will ALWAYS be something missing. That what he told Celebrimbor was a lie, no matter how much Sauron wants it to be the truth. The Rings of power are his poem, but Galadriel's beauty/light will always overshadow it.

Hence why it's pretty much granted that he will try to "get Galadriel back". He'll show her how powerful he is now that he has the Nine rings, and his proposal will probably not be as charming as it was the first time. I think we should prepare ourselves to a lot of gaslighting and threatening from his part (he's still pissed off, guys). He'll surely tell her that Eregion is burning because she refused him, that kind of thing. He will definitely use her memories of Halbrand (it's pretty much confirmed by the presence of Halbrand's theme within The Temptation music, and maybe Galadriel's vision of Halbrand enters that scheme too), but will it be to show her what they could have had if she had said yes the first time, or what they could still be? It remains to be seen.

We probably shouldn't forget that in his mind, it happens like this: "she joins me, or I'm making pay for it".... It should be pretty intense.

Then we've got what Charlotte Brändström revealed about Sauron (bless her heart) :

"I think Sauron even really loves Galadriel and you will see that at the very end”

There are already several threads discussing how Sauron will show his love for Galadriel... Will he spare her? Save her in one way or another? Heal her because she's hurt? Prove her in some way that what he said he felt as Halbrand was real? Something entirely different? Anyway, it will be something that can't be confused with manipulation.

There, I said my piece. Why isn't it next Thursday yet?

[jamdoughnutmagician]

Secrets Out (fluff)

Mechanic!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Set in the A Cut Above The Rest universe, and kind of follows on from the little fic I wrote a few weeks back. I just love these two and I really like writing little snippits of their life after the fic? idk?

Word Count:1, 772

Masterlist // Eddie Munson Masterlist

“I can’t believe that that’s our baby.” Eddie said, as he looked at the small black and white photograph that you were holding in your hands. “Like that’s inside you right now.”

You were sitting comfortably beside Eddie in his van after coming back from your very first scan. After finding out you were pregnant, the both of you couldn’t have been more thrilled, and the trip to the hospital had been filled with a mixture of excitement and nerves.

You watched as his big brown eyes shined with bubbling tears threatening to spill over his lashes as looked down on the photo with a soft smile.

“Aw, Teddie, you're getting emotional about this, huh?” You said softly as you rubbed a hand up and down his arm.

“It's not that. It's just… I don't even know what I meant to be looking at.” he chuckled slightly, wiping away his tears. “Like I know it's a baby, but it just looks like a gray blob!” 

“Oh, Teddie! It's okay! It won't look like much right now, our baby is still really small.” You reassured him. “The doctor said everything looks perfectly healthy! That's a good thing! Our little baby's going to have those strong Munson genes.”

“They're going to end up with my big ‘ol schnozz aren't they?”

Leaning in, you press a kiss against his cheek.

“So who do you want to tell first?” you asked Eddie as he plopped down next to you on the sofa, his hair still slightly wet after his shower and vaguely smelling of your coconut shampoo.

“I'm counting on it.”

You and Eddie had discussed it beforehand, and now you were at a safe point in your pregnancy where you felt comfortable telling people the exciting news.

“I was thinking that I wanna tell Wayne first. It’s his birthday next week and I wanna surprise him with the news!”

“I love that idea! You know he’s going to be so excited to hear he’s going to be a pop-pop. He'd always joked to me about wanting grand-kids.”

“And have you had any thoughts about who you’d want as godparents?” You and Eddie had also discussed the idea of having your child have godparents. God forbid that anything happen to either you or Eddie, but you wanted someone who would be able to look after your little one if anything were to happen.

“Well, I know who I want it to be.” Eddie replied confidently. 

“..And I know who I want it to be too. Do you wanna say it on the count of three?”

One. Two. Three.

“Robin and Steve.” you both said simultaneously. 

“Well, that’s that solved.” he chuckled to himself.

You and Eddie arrive at Wayne’s place nice and early, with his favourite dinner that you’d promised you’d make for him tucked under your arm in a glass dish, a lasagna made for sharing, and Eddie carrying a bottle of wine for him and his uncle to share. 

You and Eddie had spent time in Wayne's place enough for it to feel like a second home, but now with this big secret you were harbouring, suddenly the air felt different as you stepped over the threshold of the house. 

And with the dinner eaten and cleared away, and wine glasses emptied (and thankfully your refusal of said wine went without so much as an graying eyebrow raise from Wayne)

“Thanks for making dinner, darlin’” Wayne thanks in his gruff southern drawl. “But you kids didn't have to come down to spend your day with an old man like me.”

“Of course we did! We couldn't let your birthday go un-celebrated, uncle.”

Eddie says.

“Boy, when you get to be as old as I am, birthday's ain't much to be celebrating besides waking up another day and not being dead.”

“Oh, so you don't want the presents we got for you then?” You ask with a teasing tone in your voice. 

“Now, I didn't say that..” Wayne grumbles despite the slight smile curving at his lips.

You reach for the small gift bag that you had brought along with you, placing it on the table in front of Wayne.

“Just a little surprise for you, Uncle.” Eddie says. “It’s from both of us, we hope you like it.”

You and Eddie watch Wayne open up his present with bated breath. Waiting for the big secret to come out. The ruffles of tissue paper are pulled from the bag as Wayne pulls out his present. A new, very special mug to add to his ever growing collection.

“World’s best grandpa? Boy, I know I’m old, but I ain’t that old yet.” he jokes, looking over to Eddie.

“Actually, Wayne, I think you better look inside that card too.” Eddie prompts, nodding his head towards the bag where the envelope is.

Wayne reaches for the envelope that is tucked away in the bag before opening it up to see the front of the card.

A standard ‘Happy birthday Grandpa!’ card, with a birthday cake and candles on the front.

You and Eddie exchanged a quick glance and shy smiles, realising that Wayne still hadn't quite got the message you were putting across. However, it all came together as he opened his card.

‘Happy Birthday Grandpa Wayne, I can't wait to meet you!’ Written above a picture of your ultrasound that you had taped inside the card. 

“Wait..You’re…Is this real right now? You’re not yankin’ on my chain right now?” Wayne asks as he begins to show the slightest bubble of tears in his usually stern, steely grey-blue eyes.

 “No, it’s not a joke, Wayne! I promise!” Eddie assured him.

“Yeah, we found out a few months ago, and we wanted you to be the first one to know.” you said softly, tears of your own now coming up to gather in your lashes.

“I’m so touched that I got to be the first one to hear about this.” Wayne says, his voice shaky with emotion as he gets up from the table to pull you in for a hug. “I’m so happy for you guys, I really am.”

Eddie sits back, watching the two people he loves the most in this world sharing in this very tender and soft moment.

“How long was it before this one started freaking out, huh?” Wayne teases, raising his eyebrows towards his nephew.

“Hey, I’ll have you know I didn’t “freak out”, I was actually very excited.” Eddie defends himself.

“No, it’s true. I think I did enough freaking out for the both of us.” you laugh. “I count myself very lucky to have someone like Eddie to hold my hand through this.” 

You had invited Robin and Steve over to yours and Eddie’s place under the guise of having a chill movie night, but actually you just wanted them both to be together when you told them the news.

“I hope it’s not some sappy, romantic, chick-flick you’ve chosen.” Steve grumbles as he steals a handful of popcorn from the bowl Robin was holding.

“Don’t pretend you don’t secretly enjoy them too, dingus. I caught you crying when you were watching When Harry Met Sally the other week.” Robin calls him out.

“Meg Ryan’s acting got to me, alright!” Steve defends.

“Actually, before we start the film,” you interjected between the pair’s lovable bickering. “Eddie and I have something we wanted to share.” you say.

“Well, we wanted to share some news, and ask you both quite a big question.” 

“You’re pregnant aren’t you?” Robin blurted out.

“Oh my god Robin you can’t just ask that!” Steve chided her with a gentle slap on her arm, but the silence that fell in the room suddenly felt like the loudest thing in the world. “Wait..Are you?”

You manage to huff out a gleeful ‘Yes!’ in between giggles as both Steve and Robin rush up to hug you.

“Congratulations to both of you, that’s so amazing!” Steve smiles broadly.

“I knew there was something up when you passed on doing shots with me after work last week. Oh my gosh, that's fantastic news!!” Robin cheered, her freckled cheeks beaming brightly. “How long have you known?”

“Only a few weeks, it was certainly quite the surprise let me tell you!” you smile as the both release you from the tight hug they had you in.

“And that brings us on to the other important question of the evening..” Eddie said as he laid a gentle and reassuring touch on your shoulders. “We were looking for two godparents, we wondered if you knew any good ones?”

“I think what Eddie means is, would you and Steve consider being godparents to our baby?”

“Is that even possible? You know we're not, like, a couple or anything. Isn’t it too early to do this sort of thing? You only found out a couple of weeks ago, you said so yourself!” Robin babbles

But before Robin can babble anymore Steve speaks over her with tears brimming in his honeyed hazel eyes.

“Don’t listen to her, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. We’d be honoured to.” Steve manages to get out as he wipes away the tears gathering in his lashes.

“Well that went better than I could have imagined.” Eddie said with a smile. “Didn’t bet on you crying so much though, Harrington.”

“Crying? Who’s crying? Not me, this is just..uh..allergies…shut up..” Steve sniffles.

“Well it’s nice to know that our baby’s godfather is already so emotionally invested in them.” you laugh softly.

Resting a gentle hand on the almost unnoticeable curve of your belly, you can’t help the warmth that floods your heart. Even though your baby hadn’t been born yet, you knew that they were already going to be so loved by everyone around them.

As Eddie strolled into work the following morning, he’s greeted by Randy who was turning the garage’s oil-stained radio down as he came in.

“Your old man told me your girl’s got a bun in the oven,”

“News travels fast around these parts, huh.” Eddie nods, reaching for his toolbox sitting on his work bench. 

Laying a clap to Eddie’s shoulder, Randy fixes him with a stare, his forehead wrinkling as he  raises his dark eyebrows.

“Good fuckin’ luck Munson, you’re gonna need it.”

@penguinsandpotterheads @aphrogeneias @mrsjellymunson

@eddiesxangel @ali-r3n @seatnights

@munsonsbtch @keeksandgigz

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

i see there's shipping discussion occurring in your ask box so i figure i'll throw in my two cents as well!

i used to be a REALLY heavy shipper, in exactly that shallow "reduce their personalities to the concept of kissing each other" way that tons of people are complaining about. i wouldn't get into ship wars or harass people or anything, but i was totally the kind of person who you couldn't just have a level character discussion with— because i would be pretty intent on just going through the motions with whatever best friend or acquaintance I'd decided they had a huge crush on.

by contrast now my biggest most important "ships" end up all being somewhere between 3-5 people with a lot of care put into the nuances of each connection on the relationship chart— i still refer to them as poly ships (as a shorthand mostly), but of the 3 to 10 different relationships between the characters, i usually only see a few of them as romantic or sexual, with the majority a lot closer to a found family or queerplatonic sort of vibe

honestly i think the biggest reason for the reductive style of shipping was that 1) i wasn't as skilled a writer then as i am now, so i wasn't really sure how to really retain all of the features of a character that i liked, and 2) i wanted the biggest feelings IMMEDIATELY and there's some kind of instant gratification to shipping where the end goal is for them to kiss and you can just draw/write/think about them kissing and you're done.

it's kind of like the instant ramen of fictional relationships to me. it's kind of "one size fits all", low writing skill requirement, low effort, really really fast and easy, and ultimately not really that rewarding at the end of it. and just like how real actual ramen exists separately from instant noodle cups, it IS possible to write a really amazing and beautiful and deep romantic ship fic that successfully plays off of the kinds of people these characters are, but ramen still isn't the end-all be-all of relationships! there are so many different hypothetical dishes that could be made with the same characters!

and my personal favorite is polyqueerplatonic ships for this very reason, because with just a few characters you can get a whole diverse array of interactions and dynamics!!

anyway tldr; i think romantic shipping is fun, and even "cheap" reductive romantic shipping can be fun, but (to return to my instant noodles metaphor) it would be reasonably upsetting to attend an awesome community potluck only to find like 90% cup noodles. and the people serving the cup noodles frown at you whenever you ask if anyone's serving like, gourmet spaghetti or dumplings or something.

so just know that if you're bringing your silly "ouhhh they should kiss" fan works to the fandom, you're appreciated and I'm glad you're having fun, and if you're bringing the super precisely thought-out nuanced relationship fan works to the fandom, you are ALSO so appreciated and additionally i really wish there were more of you in my own fandoms.

flashbacks to the time i looked up a ship that i THOUGHT was pretty popular but it only had like 230 works on AO3 at the time and basically all of them were romantic instead of my hyper-specific one-sided queerplatonic one-sided fully platonic thing i had pictured in my mind....

Okay, as someone who has tried their hand at writing slow burn in the past, I totally get the instant gratification thing. "You know when would be a good time for them to kiss? NOW"

I'd get frustrated at my own characters for not just making out already and I was the one writing them not making out lmao

[callsign-muffin]

Heal Together: Chapter 6

(Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw fic)

Sorry this chapter took much longer than usual. I wasn't sure if I wanted to share this on the page but y'all might already know... I'm a nurse. So my schedule is nice because I only work 3 days or nights a week but... sometimes those days/nights knock me on my ass. This week was no exception.

I really appreciate every single person who has liked, reblogged, and commented on my work. It means EVERYTHING to me. I hope you all enjoy this part!

Masterlist + Playlist

Word Count: 2.2k+

You had been flipped to nights this week and your body was suffering from the sudden change to your circadian rhythm. You and Carly walked to the parking garage in exhausted silence together as the sun rose over the hospital. It was a hard night to say the least, you both were assigned to unstable elderly patients that seemed to be circling the drain. It almost felt cruel to keep them from dying peacefully because there was no way they were ever going to get better. The life sustaining care you were forced to give was just prolonging the inevitable. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, Bradley tried to text you when he woke up at 5am for work to ask how your shift was going. You quickly responded that it was crazy and that you couldn’t talk until you got off at 7:30.

Bradley Bradshaw: Please tell me you’re out of there and able to see this incredible sun rise

You: I am, thank God! I love San Diego sunrises

“Who’s that?” Carly peered over at your phone and saw the name, “Oh my god! He’s checking in on you post shift?!”

You rolled your eyes, “It’s his second time checking in on me, he texted me when he got up earlier but I said things were too crazy on the unit to talk.”

“What happened between you two then?” She asked, “You said he didn’t stay the night or anything.”

You knew she was going to ask for more information soon enough. You two were on your feet caring for your patients all night so there was no time to catch up at the nurse’s station. “He didn’t. But we hung out for a while, talked, drank a lot of wine, and he couldn’t drive himself home. So he took an Uber and then took me to brunch when he came to pick up his car.”

“He didn’t kiss you?” She asked.

You shook your head, “Nope, didn’t after brunch either.”

“Huh,” she looked puzzled, “He’s obviously so into you, we could all see it at the bar. And he took you out on a date. And he’s texting you first thing when he wakes up… he obviously likes you. Why hasn’t he kissed you?!?!”

You shrugged, “I mean, maybe he isn’t and he just wants to be friends. I also feel like dating a former patient probably breaks some kind of nursing ethics code.”

It was something that occurred to you after brunch with Bradley the day before, the possibility of this flirtation messing with your professional life.

Carly’s face dropped when the two of you stopped at your car, “Oh my god… I hadn’t even thought of that.”

You shifted your weight uncomfortably, “Yeah… so I’ve gotta ask you and I’d like you to pass it on to Madi and Sam too, not to discuss Saturday or my… friendship with Bradley at work.”

She nodded, “Of course, I’m sorry I even brought it up briefly when we got on the unit last night.”

“It’s okay, no one was around to hear. I’m just not very well liked by the senior nurses and some of the providers. I just don’t want to give them something to talk about, you know?” You explained.

“Absolutely. When is your contract up?” She asked.

“4 weeks, they asked me to extend though.” You rubbed your eyes, desperately trying to stay awake.

“Are you gonna do it? Or is it too early in the morning to talk about this?” She giggled.

You nodded, “Bingo. Let’s leave this as ‘to be continued’.”

“Alright, get home safe.” She waved you off and headed towards her car a few spots away. 

Once in your Toyota Corolla and buckled, you blasted loud music and freezing cold AC to keep you awake and alert on your commute home. Once there you peaked at your phone.

Bradley Bradshaw: Now that you’ve enjoyed the sunrise, you gotta get your ass to bed.

You: Yes sir, I’ll be out of commission until 1500 hours.

When you arrived home, you looked at your phone again to see Bradley replied with the saluting emoji. You dragged yourself out of the car and up to your apartment, in front of your door was a plastic takeout bag. The parcel was still warm when you picked it up, it was clearly left there just minutes ago. You blinked through your exhausted blurry vision and saw a note typed in the comments on the receipt… it was from the same place you had brunch with Bradley two days before.

“After working through the night, you deserve a true Californian breakfast and a nap. —Bradshaw”

This may be one of the most thoughtful things anyone had done for you in a while. You were so exhausted, you didn’t realize how hungry you were until you caught a whiff of the parcel. When you entered your apartment, you threw your bag down and went straight to the kitchen. You opened the bag to find a breakfast burrito neatly wrapped in aluminum foil, Bradley’s go to menu item. Maybe it was because of the surprise of it waiting for you at the door or because you were absolutely starving, but that thing tasted better than sex. You started your post night shift ritual with a shower. After brushing your teeth, doing your skin care, and changing into comfy clothes, you drew the black out curtains in your room, turned on the sound machine, and set an alarm for 2pm before popping a melatonin gummy. After many years as a nurse and often flipping between days and nights, you had this sleep ritual down to an absolute science.

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █ 

Y/N <3: thank you so much for breakfast. That may be one of the nicest things anyone’s ever done for me.

Rooster’s heart fluttered when the message flashed across his phone around 8AM. The Dagger Squad had just finished running a drill that ended with 200 push ups. That small rush made him forget how his muscles were screaming at him. He went to reply and saw the “do not disturb” icon was on. He was so glad since that meant you were most likely sleeping. So he left a reply for you to wake up to.

Bradley: I’m glad it came just in time! Hope you’re taking the best nap ever :)

“Is that sexy nurse?” Natasha inquired as she peered over his shoulder.

Rooster rolled his eyes, “Phoenix, she has a name… and that’s none of your business.”

“So yes,” she smirked, “you are texting her.”

“I’m replying to her,” he corrected, “she worked all night last night and is on again tonight. So she won’t get it until she wakes up.”

She stood on her tip toes to get a better look at the screen, “You sent her breakfast?!?!”

Bradley was not loving this line of questioning but he knew he had to answer or Phoenix would never lay off, “I sent UberEats for her to come home too.”

“You are down bad, my friend.” She shook her head.

“Am not.” He quipped back.

“ Are too!” She shoved him.

“That’s not fair Phoenix, just cause you’re one of the boys doesn’t mean I’ll stoop low enough to shove a woman.” He groaned.

She chuckled, “You’re just scared to get your shit rocked, Bradshaw.”

Hangman suddenly appeared beside Phoenix, skillfully placing her in a headlock. “Is this little lady giving you trouble, Rooster?”

She squirmed and screamed, “Hangman, I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

“Ya know Phoenix,” he sighed, “Forever the bully.”

Phoenix reached over and Hangman a firm tap in the junk, causing him to jump and release her.

Rooster couldn’t help but smile as the two of them fought like siblings.

“I was asking him about the hot nurse from the other night.” She explained, “He’s texting her and sent breakfast to her place for her to come home to after work.”

Hangman’s face lit up, “Bradley, Bradley, Bradley… I never thought I’d see the day. You’re courtin’ a fine lady.”

Bradley rolled his eyes, “Courting is a strong word. I’m showing her that I’m… kinda interested.”

Hangman and Phoenix gave each other knowing looks.

Natasha nodded, “Uh huh, yeah. Sureeeeee.”

2pm rolled around and Bradley was wrapping up his work day on base.

Y/N <3: Not the best nap ever but pretty damn good. I’m gonna walk on the beach and get some sunshine before it’s back to the dungeon for the night. What are you up to for the rest of the day?

Should he shoot his shot? She wouldn’t keep engaging with him if she wasn’t at least a little interested, right?

Bradley: Joining you for a walk on the beach if you’ll allow it.

Y/N <3: I would love that. What time can you be at my place?

This was good. This was really good. She’s invited him back to her place. 

Bradley: I gotta change out of my uniform and stuff, how does 3 sound?

Y/N <3: Perfect, I’ll see you soon :)

Rooster had an extra skip in his step as he packed up his things, grateful for the 6am start allowing his work day to have an early finish. Once in his Bronco, he sped home to change into some casual clothes. He decided to really shake it up and not wear his usual Hawaiian shirt and jeans combo. A UVA t-shirt and some gym shorts seemed a lot more appropriate for a casual beach walk. Bradley really couldn’t believe he was putting that much thought into what he wore for something so casual. 

When he walked up to her door he could hear music through it. Whatever Y/N was listening to, she was clearly jamming. When he knocked, she quickly called out, “It’s open!”. He got a better listen to the music once the door was open, it was high energy with a… saxophone? It was kind of lit.

“What is this?” Bradley asked, “It’s awesome!”

“Modern Woman by Bleachers,” she entered the living room wearing a similar outfit to his, a university t-shirt and gym shorts, “Isn’t it great? Kinda gives me Springsteen vibes.”

He paused and listened a little more, “Yes, that’s spot on!”

“Let me just make sure I have my life together for work, so I can just change and leave later.” She said, heading toward the kitchen.

He took another good look at her as she took her lunchbox, water bottle, and an energy drink from the fridge and set it out on the counter. Fresh faced from her nap, hair in a bun, shorts and a t-shirt… he had never seen anything more beautiful.

Y/N paused for a moment and looked over at Rooster, “Is everything okay? Do I have something on my face?”  

He shook his head, “Yes, everything’s great… you look great.”

She smiled shyly and continued her task, “Thank you, Bradley… are you ready to head to the beach?”

“Hell yeah,” he asked, “which beach are we headed to?”

“Nothing fancy, just the beach a few blocks away.” She shrugged, “Hope you don’t mind tagging along on my normal, boring jaunt.”

He shook his head, “Y/N, nothing with you could be boring. I’d have fun watching paint dry.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █ 

The two of you walked along the shoreline; the waves ebbed and flowed across the sand and towards your feet. The wind whipped across your face and through your hair, making it dance wildly. Bradley looked so handsome beside you, you couldn’t help but stare and hope that maybe it would be less obvious since you had sunglasses on.

“I should start doing this more, it’s much more pleasant than running.” He chuckled to himself, “It’s so peaceful.”

You giggled, “Drinking bleach is more pleasant than running, in my opinion.”

“You’re not a runner?” He asked.

“Not unless something’s chasing me.” You quipped.

A smirk slowly crept across Bradley’s face. You weren’t exactly sure what was going through his head but you felt the sudden urge to start sprinting. Next thing you knew he was hot on your heels and you couldn’t help but giggle breathlessly, running on sand was so freaking hard! Two strong arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you off your feet with ease.

“BRADSHAW!!!” You cried out through your giggles, leaning your head back on his shoulder behind you.

His face burrowed into your neck, “You say you’re not a runner but you’re pretty speedy.”

You turned your head to look at him, nose to nose, still giggling breathlessly.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said simply.

It was like two magnets, your lips crashed into his, there was no force that could stop it. Once you realized what you did, you quickly pulled away, “I’m so sorry.”

He placed you gently back on your feet, “Y/N, the only thing you owe me an apology for is stopping.”

Your stomach fluttered, “Soooo… you wanna do it again?”

“Kiss me, you fool.” He chuckled, grabbing you by the cheeks and stroking them sweetly with his thumb.

You stepped closer so you two were chest to chest and gently brushed your lips against his. With a jolt of pure electricity, you pressed deeper into his kiss. It wasn’t until this moment, when you tasted his lips, that you realized how fucking starving you were.

Tag list:

@sarah-bear706318

@dizzybee03

@that-gay-person-27

@alwayshave-faith

@caitsymichelle13

@thespillingvoid

Please message or comment if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

[agencyboys]

I couldn't get this little missing scene out of my head!!! I mean how do we go from Niko asking him if he knows it's okay to be gay to just straight up asking if he wants to kiss boys in the next episode?! I think perhaps they did have some discussions between the episodes, and while Edwin was still figuring himself out, Niko was able to suss him out for certain.

"Niko, I am afraid you might have misunderstood me earlier at the library today... Of course, I know that two boys can - what did you say?- Ah, "like like each other." I may have died in 1916, but my politics certainly did not stagnate there. I simply meant... while, yes, Monty and I are both boys, that is just... not where my... proclivities lie."

Niko stares at him with what can only be described as gentle confusion and asks "Okay... so you're saying you don't want to date boys?" Edwin tries not to panic because he can hear the doubt in her question.

"Precisely. Frankly, I do not think courting as a whole is in the books for me. I never truly understood the appeal, " he explains. Niko looks at him with poorly hidden sadness at this comment.

"Well, that's toootally okay. You don't have to date anybody if you don't want to! But... I really think you should still read some of my manga. They can be very informative."

[kazbiter]

with s8 coming out next week i just wanted to let u guys know that the way i got into buddie in the first place was through occasionally seeing mutuals mention it on the tl and not really thinking much of it bc i didn't know anything abt it until the episode where buck being bisexual went canon (a timeline event for the ages) and ppl were discussing destiel in relation to it basically saying that buddie might get the chance to go canon in the way they never did and i was like okay hmmmm i am curious abt this from a purely objective perspective let me look into this and see what i think. and then after like a week of observing the goings-on and interviews that were coming out around that time and finding out more about the buddie storyline in general i was like ???? lol yeah you guys are absolutely getting that canonized. like from a marketing perspective w the way they were handling this there is literally nothing else they could be planning to do. and then of course bc i had already started down the slippery slope of exploring buddie i then eventually became obsessed with it in my own time and now instead of you guys are getting buddie canon it is very much WE are getting buddie canon but that's neither here nor there i just wanted to say i have literally never questioned if this will happen lmao i'm not claiming to have any inside information or specifics about how they're going to do it but. i would have bet every dollar i had on buddie canon before 911 was even of the slightest personal interest to me at all so i will be rubbing my hands together gleefully watching this unfold.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

okay okay, it's a lil silly but hear me out konig + phantom of the opera au

man's got it all; need to cover his face, obsessive tendencies, and the need to be a secretive lil (big) weirdo *chef's kiss*

NO NO NO HOLD ON YOU'RE COOKIN. NOT SILLY AT ALL.

Now look here, I dunno if you know this, but I am a sucker for classic literature. One of my top three favourite books of all time is Frankenstein by Mary Shelly. That woman ate when she wrote that book and I will listen to nothing else. I also really want to write an essay about how Frankenstein is Mary Shelly discussing the inherent horror of motherhood in those times and how the lack of a mother figure shapes an individual. I think it's an extremely layered book, but I like to see the parenthood lens of the book.

Now now now, this is about Phantom of the Opera. I do know a bit about the original phantom, and I don't like to think König or reader dies in the end (just personally, I can't write a tragic ending. I really need a happy ending, not for the reader, but because I need a happy ending). So, let me introduce the idea that this is a version where the phantom wins.

This is one where the phantom was fucking right and actually, freak of nature as he is, maybe he had a point!!! Maybe, reader shouldn't be dating someone twice their age. Maybe, though König is a bit older for sure, he's actually not that old and a more appropriate age. Albeit, though now recovered, König still suffered a case of leprosy after being exposed during a war. He considers himself hideous, but maybe reader would be able to look past his sickness?

Now, is König appropriate as a lover? Probably not. He's obsessive, jealous, and a borderline stalker. He's determined to kill off the man who's trying to seduce her ('How dare you try and take my little songbird away from me!!!') and will do anything to keep reader to himself. However, he's also saving reader from a far worse fate with someone worse than him.

Reader is enchanted by Makarov of course, but König knows better and is determined to show her the light. He desperately wants to just talk to her and explain everything to her, but at this point he's committed to what he's doing and social anxiety makes him unable to just knock on her door and talk to her like a regular person.

Once again, like every incredible story in the English language, if you guys just talked everything would be fine but nobody knows how to be an adult.

Anyways, König loves reader dearly. Watching her perform makes his heart ache. His one saving grace is a beautiful voice he uses to enchant her. If his face is nothing but sickness, let him sing to his little songbird and help her connection to music. He'll do what he can to cling to any connections he has to her. He's desperate to hold her, and he'll do whatever he needs to to get to her.

IMPORTANT EDIT:

König with the phantom mask but he has two long red ribbons coming out the bottom of the eyes and the rest of his face is hidden under a dark hood. Consider it.

[clangenrising]

have you considered slightly fixing your tone when it comes to addressing your audience? you push so back and argue against certain points so often, it's sort of inevitable that ppl are going to apologize even when asked not to

I'm sorry, "fixing my tone"???

There is nothing wrong with my tone. I regularly get people telling me that I am far more calm, fair, and measured than they would have patience to be. If me asserting boundaries or shutting down harmful opinions is upsetting to you, that's on you, not on me.

When I tell people not to apologize, it's not that I want them to stop being upset. It's totally valid to receive critique and be wounded by that. What isn't okay is for them to turn around and make me feel responsible for their emotional state. It's not my job to console them and what I'm ACTUALLY asking for is for my audience to act like mature adults and go manage their emotions in private instead of floundering for my approval or forgiveness.

A lot of fans online these days feel entitled to a relationship with the creators they like -- just look at the shit Chappell Roan is going through. Now, I'm not as big as celebrities like that and I luckily do not face nearly as much harassment as they do, but there is a similar attitude going on in parts of my audience (and I do mean Parts, most of my audience is lovely).

I'm not going to change what I believe or be quiet about my opinions in order to cater to my fans. This is my blog and I'm going to say what I want to. I'm not going to just passively let people say really problematic stuff in my asks, partially because I think having firm and honest discussions about those things is really important in order to shift attitudes and move towards progress.

So, no, I will not "fix my tone." I have and always will strive to speak with kindness and respect to my audience. Asserting my boundaries and pushing back on harmful stereotypes doesn't violate that. It would be less respectful if I treated you all with kid gloves and tip toed around trying not to upset anyone.

[uniquexusposts]

Her || Charles

Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff  Story type: novel  Part: 27/? Word count: 3414 Co writer: @mistrose23

Story summary: Matilde Jørgensen, the new Scuderia Ferrari team principal, faced the nerve-wracking challenge of reviving the team's fortunes and aiming for a championship. Leading a historic team as a 'newbie' and separating her work and personal opinions posed a significant challenge. The big question: is she capable to do so? Note: Italian is not our first language, we're trying our best to translate the sentences to Italian :)

Previous chapter

Chapter 25. F1 Giggles & Tea... Espresso

"Hello, hello," the blonde hostess said into the microphone, opening the podcast.

The brunette smiled. "Hello, it has been a while," she said, looking at her friend. "The last time was around Austria."

"Phew, before the summer break. And a lot has happened since then." The blonde took a sip from her iced coffee. "First of all, we would like to apologise for our absence."

"Yes, absolutely."

"Some personal things happened, summer break, job switches... However, this podcast is about Formula 1, and oh, my god, there's so much tea to spill. Well, espresso. Because this podcast will be all about Monza."

"Welcome to F1 Giggles & Espresso."

The first twenty minutes were all about what had happened from Austria to Zandvoort: the famous Ferrari sandwich in Spielberg, the chaotic race in Silverstone, the DNF race in Hungary, the redemption race in Spa, and the wet race in Zandvoort. And, of course, the needed drama with some drivers (the partner drama during the holiday and the needed rumours of breakups).

"Let's dive into the Monza madness; it's not only Ferrari's home race, but also AlphaTauri's," the blonde said.

The brunette nodded, her eyes shining with excitement. "Even though it is also AlphaTauri's home race, I think all eyes will be focused on Ferrari. They might have a chance to do something this weekend."

"I have to say," the blonde said, leaning forward. "I am quite surprised to see the success of Ferrari so far." She was thinking about her next words. "There has been a lot of drama so far, but they are performing, and unlike last year, there is competition with Max."

"The drama," the brunette breathed. "I don't think I have seen a team with this much drama. The sneers during interviews, the behaviour on track... It almost starts to feel like a drama movie."

"But can I say how calm and polite Matilde stayed during those times?"

"Did she? Or was she just uninterested?"

The blonde raised an eyebrow, considering her friend's question. "You think Matilde was uninterested?"

"I mean, it's possible, isn't it?" The brunette shrugged. "She seemed so composed, like nothing fazes her."

"I think you have to do that because it is known that Ferrari came out of a mess. It was a rough start, but I think she's handling everything really well. Look at the crash at Spielberg; she just called Charles and Carlos back."

"I don't know..." The girl with the brown hair leaned back on her chair. "I mean, I don't think she is suited for the role." She crossed her arms. "She looks so uninterested, but also like she wants to be popular. I don't think she takes her job seriously. I think she's barely working, and I never see her really do anything on the track."

The brunette squinted her eyes, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Do you see Toto working?"

"Well, I feel like he is doing his job right. How often are there discussions in his team, what is shown in the media? And how many of them are affecting the team and the results?"

The blonde leaned forward. "But that's just it, isn't it? Perception versus reality. Just because we don't see Matilde working, which I believe is wrong because she is always working, doesn't mean she isn't. Perhaps her leading style is different from everyone else."

"I can't take her seriously. One moment, she's dancing on a Max song at Zandvoort, or she is constantly laughing, making comments, being popular. And the other moment she's not interested. What is her deal?"

"I think she is very passionate about her job. She's always wearing red nail polish, representing Ferrari. Or she's wearing a red hair tie, or a red bracelet. She is actually having fun at her job and it shows in the results. That moment at Zandvoort, where she's dancing to a Max song... It's just wonderful to see she isn't afraid of showing her fun and excitement at work," the blonde defended Matilde. "She's young, she leads a team her own way, and it works. After Zandvoort, Max has 233 points, Charles has 183 points, Carlos has 179 points, and Checo has 106 points. Red Bull currently has 339 points and Ferrari 362. If we take last year's results, Max was leading with 310 points, Charles had 201 points, Checo had 201 points, and Carlos had 175 points. Red Bull was leading with 511 points and Ferrari 376."

"Hmm-hmm. I haven't heard your point yet. I conclude that Ferrari is not doing a much better job so far."

"You'd think that. But Max has 90 points less than last year, Checo has 95 points less, Charles has 11 points less, and Carlos has four points more. Ferrari is doing a better job, keeping the points away from Red Bull."

The brunette slowly nodded and sighed. "The point of winning a championship is actually to win as many races as possible. Not to keep points away from each other."

"Taking the points away from the opponent or collecting as many points as possible is both a strategy," the blonde replied and raised her eyebrows, dropping an imaginary bomb.

"Maybe," the brunette said, running a hand through her hair. "For some reason, it's just hard for me to shake off the feeling that she's not cut out for the job. But we will see. Let's see how things play out at Monza. If Ferrari performs well - because Monza and Ferrari don't go together for some reason - then maybe we can give Matilde the benefit of the doubt."

"You," the blonde replied. "You will give her the benefit of the doubt. I think she's slaying, absolutely nailing it so far, and is an absolute girlboss. And it isn't just Matilde who is Ferrari, she has two drivers and an entire team around her."

"But she's on the top of it. If a team doesn't perform right, the first one who will be out is the trainer or leader - football-wise." The brunette shrugged. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

The discussion ended, and they switched to a new topic. The two best friends weren't afraid to discuss or share their opinions, even though they would clash with one another.

* * *

Wednesday is only two days away from the weekend. And the day contained stress, pressure, and pure chaos at Ferrari HQ. Many meetings were planned, the drivers were present at the factory for the entire day to fine-tune the car, and everyone was working twice as hard. This had to be their weekend. And they didn't want to have a mediocre weekend; this was about getting everything or nothing.

Matilde came back from a meeting and got into her office. She put her laptop on her desk and let herself fall into the chair. Her brain started to turn into jelly; nothing made sense anymore. With a tired sigh, she ran her hand through her hair. The morning meeting had been particularly gruelling, filled with endless discussions and strategic planning sessions that seemed to stretch on forever. Monza was coming up; everyone basically worked towards this weekend for a year straight. And to top off the meeting, Matilde had a midterm interview, and they cranked up the pressure for Matilde to perform extra well at their home race.

She turned on her computer, and her agenda popped open. A relieved sigh left her mouth when she saw she had no meetings scheduled for the upcoming two hours. It was a rare moment of calm in the team's chaos. Leaning back in her chair, Matilde closed her eyes momentarily, allowing herself to simply breathe.

You know what, she thought, I'm gonna lunch outside of the factory. Matilde logged out and got up from her chair. She doubted taking her work bag with her, but decided not to take it to the lunch spot. All she had to take with her was her phone, wallet, sunglasses, sunscreen and a book. She concluded she had to take a bag with her, so she found a tote bag in her desk drawer.

"I'm going out for lunch," Matilde told Galileo while standing before her desk.

"As you should," Galileo smiled. "How was the meeting?" He leaned back in his chair.

"'Matilde this. Matilde that.' Too much information to keep up with. And it's intense," she breathed. "Matilde just needs an hour off," she emotionlessly smiled.

He smirked. "Welcome to the hell week. Go enjoy your lunch. Rest and recharge well for this week," he said.

"Grazie," she said. "Go take a break, enjoy the sun in peace." Matilde walked through the department and passed the department canteen. "Hey," she greeted her drivers, hanging against the standing table.

"Hello," Carlos said.

Charles turned around, his face lightening up by her presence. It would be the first time they would see each other since Sunday. "Hey," he smiled. "Where are you going?"

"Out for lunch. Want to join?"

His eyes lit up with genuine interest at the invitation. "I'd love to, but I don't think we will get out alive."

Carlos agreed. "It's hectic out there. They say there have been fans here since seven this morning."

Matilde looked impressed. "It feels like we're royals or something."

"This week, we are," Carlos snorted.

"But anyway, I know a secret escape from this park, avoiding everyone. But it's up to you," she offered, leaving the decision up to her drivers. "I'm taking the bike; it's easier to avoid crowds. I'm sure you can ride a company bike for an hour." She waited for a reaction with a warm smile on her face. The Ferrari park was huge, so there were bikes to share within the park to move more efficiently and quickly.

Charles and Carlos exchanged glances, considering Matilde's proposition. The thought of escaping the chaos inside and outside the office was appealing. Carlos raised his eyebrows, leaving the decision to Charles.

"That sounds like a plan. Lead the way, boss," Charles said, looking at her gate a few seconds longer than necessary.

Matilde squinted her eyes for a few seconds before she nodded, pleased that her offer had been accepted. Together with the men, they walked to the ground floor and the back of the office, exiting out of the public sight.

"Can I put this in your bag until we get there?" Carlos asked and showed his pass.

"Sure," she replied and held her bag open. Carlos put his pass in her bag, and Charles did the same.

Carlos inspected her bike. "Nice bike. This isn't one of ours, right?"

Matilde placed her bag in the basket, which was attached to the steer of her bicycle. "Nope, this is my own bike."

"Did you cycle from your home to here?" Charles asked, knowing that would take about 45 minutes.

She nodded. "For days like this, cycling after work is like therapy." She was wearing a blue shirt as a jacket with a white top underneath, so she slipped the shirt off since it would be more pleasant during the bike ride to the cafe. "Ready?" Matilde called out, a playful glint in her eyes.

"You're making it sound like we're about to start a massive mission," Carlos smirked, putting his sunglasses on.

"It's an adventure, Carlos. You have to be ready for it," Charles said, also putting on his sunglasses.

Matilde couldn't help but smile. It was spontaneous, and she liked it. It reminded her of the bike rides with her brothers back home in Denmark. They pedalled away from the main building. Matilde navigated them through the factory park, finding the 'secret' backdoor exit.

As they rode through nature, Matilde couldn't help but feel a sense of liberation wash over her. With each paddle stroke, she felt the weight of the horror meeting lifting from her shoulders. She used to cycle a lot back in Denmark, but she never really realised how comforting it could be. It even made her chuckle; she never thought she would love to cycle for fun.

Matilde led the way; she scanned the surroundings and enjoyed the warm sun on her skin.

Despite their silence, there was an unspoken understanding that they were all enjoying this moment. Charles's face rested with a relaxed look. Carlos was recharging, and they were glad they had left the office.

Eventually, they reached their destination. The cafe was located on the border of a small village, so it was quite an unknown spot—but once you knew, you knew. The owners prefer to advertise by word of mouth, so it stays local.

The three people parked their bikes and made their way to the entrance, a shed. It looked like the cafe owner had renovated the shed in their backyard to start a cafe. Carlos and Charles were leading, also taking in the new surroundings and being impressed by the small place.

Charles saw the waitress behind a coffee machine. He put his sunglasses on his hair and was about to greet her so he could take the lead. But before he could say anything, the woman cut him off, whose eyes lit up when she saw the guests.

"Matilde, ciao!" the young woman greeted. She seemed to know Matilde. "È bello vederti qui. Come stai?" (Matilde, hello! It's nice to see you here. How are you?)*

Charles closed his mouth and looked at the young woman and then at Matilde. Carlos raised his eyebrows and expected Matilde to go into full panic mode. Also, they both expected a crazy 'omg, you are Leclerc, Sainz and Jørgensen' attack by the look the woman gave, but that didn't happen as well.

"Ciao, Cecilia," Matilde brightly smiled. Cecilia walked around the counter and kissed Matilde on the cheek. "Bene, grazie. Sono occupato al lavoro adesso. E tu, come stai?" Matilde felt proud. She was aware that Charles and Carlos were beside her, and she also was aware that she never spoke Italian around them. (Hi, Cecilia. Fine thanks. I'm busy at work now. And how are you?)

"Bene, bene. È una mattinata molto tranquilla, per fortuna. Oh, grazie per aver aiutato mia nonna con la spesa. Ama la tua compagnia," Cecilia said. (Very well. It's a very quiet morning, fortunately. Oh, thanks for helping my grandmother with the groceries. She loves your company)

"Sí, certo, non è un problema," Matilde told her. "lo aspetto sempre con ansia." (Yes, of course, it's not a problem. I always look forward to it.)

Impressive looks grew on Carlos and Charles' faces, and they looked at each other, not expecting this. What else was she hiding? Since when could she hold a conversation in Italian?

"Ancora, grazie," Cecilia said and then she looked behind Matilde. "Como posso aiutarla?" (Thank you again. How can I help you?)

"Ah, sí," Matilde nodded. "Avete un tavolo per tre, per favore?" (Oh yes. Do you have a table for three please?)

"Certo, abbiamo un tavolo fuori,," Cecilia suggested. (Of course, there's a table outside)

"Perfetto, grazie," Matilde thanked her. (Perfect, thanks)

They walked over to a free table. The only other people present were two elderly men who didn't even seem to bother to look at the trio.

"Hello, since when do you speak Italian this well?" Carlos asked, as he took it very personally.

Matilde only proudly smiled; it started off as a confident smile but slowly turned into a shy smile because both the guys proudly looked at her. "Well, yeah, I've been practising. But this is all I know, so please, no complicated questions."

He held up his hand. "Very good, mate," he said.

She gave Carlos a high five. "Grazie."

"You will get there," Charles smiled. "How do you know this spot?"

"Cecilia is the grandchild of my neighbour. And once a week, I will do the groceries together with my neighbour and visit this cafe for her grandchild. Her grandmother also helps me with Italian, so yeah," Matilde shared.

"That is adorable."

At first, the ambience between the three was a bit stiff. They had ordered a drink and something to eat, but they didn't know what to talk about for some reason. Within Ferrari, there was an unspoken rule not to discuss anything about racing when you would lunch outside of the factory. But if you had lunch planned for work, then it was obviously standard to talk about work. Matilde looked around, enjoying the sun, while Charles and Carlos were unsure what to say. They looked at each other, waiting for the first one to say something.

"Who will you bring to the race?" Matilde then asked when the coffees were served. She softly gasped. "Or is that a race-related question?"

"Well..." Carlos hummed. "It's a close call." He smiled. "The usual," was his answer. "My family and girlfriend."

Matilde nodded. "Sweet," she smiled and shifted her eyes to Charles, waiting for his answer.

"My family, as well; mum and brothers. And, of course, Joris and some other friends," he replied. "Well, Arthur has to race, obviously."

"And what about you? Will your family be there?" Carlos curiously asked.

Charles observed Matilde. "I've never seen your family at the track before."

An awkward laugh left her mouth. "Yeah, that's true. My oldest brother went to Silverstone, but that didn't really happen. And my dad was at Spa with me. But my entire family will be at Monza, so I'm really looking forward to that."

"Why haven't they been at a race before? If you don't mind me asking," he continued to ask. Matilde barely shared anything about herself; she was really private. It was not like Charles was noisy, but he was curious since she had met his family, Carlos' family, and other families.

"They have to work," she replied and shrugged. "They can't take a random weekend off and travel to another country. Plus, they have their own responsibilities."

"Oh, yeah, I get it. What do they do for a living?" Carlos asked.

A smile curved on Matilde's lips, the question cheered her up, distressed her a bit. Talking about her family made her proud. "My mother is a senior flight attendant, my father is a history professor at the university, Jens works for the army, and Lars is a press officer and a teacher at the uni for a communications study."

"Wow, that's interesting. I didn't expect that," Carlos replied. "I don't know what I expected, though," he laughed. Matilde and Charles laughed along with him. "I'm happy they will be there for you."

They chatted for a bit longer about their families, keeping the conversation light and easygoing. Then, their lunch was served.

Carlos got up and excused himself when he had to go to the toilet.

"Oh," Matilde mumbled when she felt the sunburn on her skin. She reached for her bag and grabbed the sunscreen. Charles looked at her and raised his eyebrows. "My Danish skin is not made for this Italian sun," she said.

"Still not used to it?" Charles asked.

"I'm almost used to the heat now, but my skin refuses to do that," she said, spraying some sunscreen on her arms and neck. even though it wasn't sunscreen for her face, she put some of it on her face. Matilde passed the bottle over to Charles. "I know it's Ferrari week, but let's not make it physical." She noticed that Charles was kinda confused about why she handed the bottle to him. "You need protection, too, Charles. Even if you are already tanned."

He looked impressed at her, but he showed a warm smile.

"And I've seen some summer photos of you on Instagram... Ferrari style," she cheekily said.

"So you look at my Instagram?"

"Your posts show up on my feed, yes," she mumbled, looking away from him. The way he smiled at her, made her blush.

"Hah," Charles said, putting on some sunscreen. "For you, I will do it." He took off his sunglasses so he could put some on his face.

"I'm glad." Matilde looked at him. "You have some..." She pointed at her own cheek, but she pointed out the sunscreen on Charles' cheek.

Charles rubbed his fingers under his cheek. "Gone?"

"No," she chuckled. "Come here."

She leaned over the table and gently wiped the sunscreen off his cheek with her thumb. Their eyes met, and time seemed to stand still for a moment.

"Thanks," Charles said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Matilde nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Anytime."

Just as quickly as the electricity between them appeared, the moment passed, and they both pulled away. Charles cleared his throat, put on his sunglasses and continued his lunch. Matilde looked down and put on her sunglasses again. There was silence between them, not knowing what to say now. Matilde almost didn't remember how to breathe normally without sounding weird.

Carlos returned, seeing the awkwardness between Matilde and Charles. He flashed them a curious look. Matilde gave Charles a side eye; to her surprise, Charles did the same.

"So, what did I miss?" Carlos asked, taking his seat again.

"Nothing, really," Charles replied.

"Here," Matilde said, giving Carlos the bottle of sunscreen. "Protect yourself from the sun."

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos@crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc @ironmaiden1313 @blodwyn4u @sltwins @heart-trees

[loveesiren]

Doing It All For Us (Pt. 8)

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: (I apologize for the bad gifs, I'm reposting but I can't find the ones I used before 😭) Y/n gets the help she needs before her and Rafe start a new life together.

Warnings: Drugs, psychosis, mental health, self harm, and surprises, ya'll know me by now.

Word Count: 5.7k+

You moved your food around your plate as you listened to Topper, Rafe and Kelce discuss baseball. You couldn't be bothered to eat.

Rafe knew you were craving drugs. He knew you too well. You couldn't hide it from him. So, of course, he became annoyingly overprotective. He didn't leave you on your own for long.

You didn't want to be at the club right now. You hadn't showered in four days. You were still in the same old t-shirt you borrowed from Courtney. Your hair sat in a messy bun on your head and you had no make up on. Thank God you had at least drowned yourself in your Juicy perfume.

Rafe dragged you to the club, forcing you to eat and socialize. But you didn't even try. You sat there, obviously unhappy, just bringing everyone else down.

Rafe ran his fingers over your leg and smiled at you. You attempted to smile back but it was just pitiful. Topper and Kelce were staring at you with worried looks.

"Baby-"

"I'm gonna go smoke." You said, standing up and heading towards the door.

"Do you want me to-"

"No!"

You walked across the street from the club and sat in the grass. Lighting up an American Spirit, you laid back and watched the clouds move above you.

_

"What's going on with her, dude?" Topper asked Rafe.

Rafe was on the verge of tears but he held them back. "I-I don't know. I mean, a lot is going on but she won't talk to me. She just sits in silence and barely eats..."

"Maybe Courtney could get through to her?" Kelce asked.

Rafe shakes his head. "She tried. Court says she's gone through this before. Told me not to leave her alone for too long." He said as he looked out the window. He noticed you weren't where you had been moments ago. He stood up quickly and walked outside. "Y/N!" He yelled as he looked around for you. You were gone.

Rafe ran back inside, panicking. "She's gone!" He told Topper and Kelce.

"What?" Topper asked as he stood up, throwing some money on the table.

Rafe ran his shaking hands through his hair as his eyes began to swell with tears once again. "We gotta find her, man!"

The boys ran outside and piled into Rafe's truck.

-

You heard the sound of a bike approaching you but you didn't turn to look. You just kept walking lazily down the side of the road, dragging your cigarette every now and then.

"Hey, Princess!" You hear Barry say as he pulls up next to you. You sigh and turn to look at him. "Where's Prince Charming, huh? Lettin' you walk all alone out here. Never know who might swoop you up!" He laughs.

You just stare at him, too tired to say anything back. You can feel the bags under your eyes. Your face felt heavy and your body was weak from malnourishment.

"Shit..." He says as he examines you. "You look like you need a fix, am I right, Princess?"

You nod.

"Hop on," He says. He doesn't even offer you his helmet but you don't care. You climb on the back of his bike and wrap your arms around his waist. He drives off towards his house.

You know Barry was a bad guy. He'd probably want to take you back to his place, get you high, try to get in your pants. But you just didn't care anymore. The voices in your head were eating you alive.

Worthless. They don't really love you. Burden.

The words play over and over again in your head as you watch the trees pass by.

"Here we are," Barry says, helping you off the bike. "Come on, I'll fix you up."

You follow Barry inside. You scanned his house, noticing the few people that laid lazily on his couch, obviously doped out of their minds.

"You ever freebased?" Barry asks as he sits down at the kitchen table, sprinkling coke over a piece of foil.

"Yeah." Your voice was weak. You sat down across from him as you watched him prepare the foily.

He slides it over to you with a tooter and a lighter. You bring the tooter to your lips and light the bottom of the foil. You inhale the smoke slowly, feeling an instant buzz.

Barry smiles as he watches you. "Damn, you go harder than Country Club!" He laughs. "I ain't ever seen no Kook Queens up in the trap house smoking foilies!"

"I'm from LA," You tell him, feeling a little more talkative now that your buzz was hitting.

You hand him the paraphernalia. "That's all you, Princess. Go crazy." He said, waving you off.

You chuckle, bringing the tooter back to your lips to smoke more. After a bit, you were on Cloud 9.

People began drifting in and out of Barry's house. He'd sell them drugs, talk to some girls, then come back and sit with you, continuing to fix you up with the makeshift crack.

"You wanna shot, Princess?" Barry asks as he taps your arm with a bottle of whiskey.

You take it from him and quickly chug as much as you can before you get back to making your foily. You were really feeling it now. You hadn't been this high in a long time.

"Ayo, Y/N!" Barry says, snapping his fingers in your face.

You snap up to look at him. "What?"

"Chill, girl! Have another shot, you need to relax."

You eyed him for a moment as your nose twitched, but you took the bottle and chugged more.

"You really love that kid?" Barry asked you.

"What do you mean?"

"Rafe," He said. "You was bout ready to kill me for his ass!" Barry chuckled.

Rafe. Rafe. The love of your life. The only person that made you feel at home. You had left him at the club. You looked around now, realizing it was dark out and Barry's house was full of people getting high as fuck. Music was blasting way louder than you realized and you could feel your anxiety start to rise.

You snap out of your trance and look back to Barry. "Yeah. I do." You said confidently.

Barry smiles. "You know, for a Kook, you're not half bad. Country Club's a lucky man."

You look up at him with your devil eyes. The one's that came out after you'd drown yourself in substances. The eyes that showed who you truly were under your make up and jewelry. The psychopath.

Barry eyed you for a moment, looking almost scared. You offer him a small smile, hoping to convey that you were fine but knowing deep down you probably looked crazy.

Barry offered you a bill to snort one of the lines he just poured out. You accepted and leaned over the table, railing the white powder quickly.

"Well aren't you a sight," You hear a raspy voice say from behind you.

You turn around to see an older man, probably your dad's age. But he looked even older. Years of alcohol and drugs taking a toll on him.

You scrunch your nose up at him as he steps towards you and places a hand on your hip.

"Back up, Luke." Barry said, pushing him away from you.

"Ah, keepin' her all to yourself?"

"That's Cameron's girl." Barry states, keeping you behind him.

"Well I don't see that little shit around!" Luke laughs an intoxicated laugh.

You could feel anxiety rise in your chest. You didn't want to be here anymore. You wanted Rafe. You wanted to go home. You didn't want to be this fucking high anymore.

Barry turned around as he noticed you hyperventilating. "Ah, fuck." He said. He grabbed the whiskey off the table and put his arm around you. He pushed Luke out of the way as he lead you back to his bedroom.

You felt yourself pulled back as Luke grabbed your hand. "Get off me!" You yelp.

Barry turns around and punches Luke in the temple causing him to instantly fall to the ground. "Don't fucking touch her!" He turns and ushers you back to his bedroom.

You were a weeping mess now. Crying and hyperventilating. Barry closed the door behind him and you coward away from him, nervous he was going to do something.

He holds his hands up in defense. "Hey, Y/N, I'm not gonna hurt you okay?" He says. "Sit."

You sit down on the edge of his bed and pull your knees to your chest.

"Hear, drink this. It will calm you down."

You take the whiskey from his hand and chug. Too much crack. You were scared and paranoid. You didn't have your phone or anything. You were stuck in the middle of this party out in the Cut high off your ass and you hadn't talked to Rafe in hours.

"R-Rafe." You stutter.

"Hey, just relax, okay? I'mma call him right now."

You nod your head quickly, taking another swig from the bottle.

Barry paces his small room as he dials Rafe's number. Your eyes flicker back and forth as the voices in your head come back. You put your hands over your ears and shake your head, trying to get them to stop.

You're too high. You're going to die.

"Ayo, Rafe! You need to come get your girl, man!" Barry's voice echos in the background.

The voices became too much and you start screaming.

"Shit, shit! Yo, she's freaking out! Come get her!"

You were practically ripping your hair out.

"Y/N! Stop!" Barry yelled, grabbing your hands and keeping them by your sides.

You continued to thrash around on the bed, shaking your head back and forth violently. You let out another scream.

"Rafe's coming! He's on his way!" Barry yells at you.

You ease up slightly at the sound of Rafe's name but you were still terrified and you didn't know why.

"Listen to me, it's just the drugs okay? You smoked too much. You're okay. I promise." Barry said, trying to calm you down. "Look at me!"

You try to focus your eyes but you couldn't help but shake.

"You're good," Barry reassured you.

You nodded nervously. Barry let go of you and you remained somewhat still on the bed.

Fifteen minutes later, there was knocking on the door.

"Barry!" Rafe banged on the door. Barry opened it and Rafe, Courtney, Kelce, and Topper piled into the room.

"Y/N!" Rafe screamed as he ran to your shaking body on the bed.

"Take me home!" You cry as you throw your body around him. "I don't want to be here."

Rafe held you tighter than he ever had before.

"What the hell did you give her?!" Courtney yelled at Barry.

"Look, I'm sorry-" Courtney slapped him, cutting him off from his sentence.

Barry nodded, knowing he deserved it. "She freebased a bunch of coke, man. Just get her home."

Rafe wanted to strangle him, but you were more important. He had one arm around your waist and one cradling your head as he pushed past Barry and out to the living room.

"The Kooks are here!" People start saying as Rafe carried you through the sea of junkies that invaded the trailer.

"Fuck off!" You could hear Courtney, Topper, and Kelce telling people to back off. These weren't even Pogues. They were lower. This house was disgusting and you just wanted to leave.

You knew Rafe was probably furious with you. But he still came for you. You clung to him so tightly as you shook in his arms.

"I got you, baby." He said. His voice was so soft and it calmed you down. "Top, drive." Rafe said, throwing him the keys to the truck.

Rafe pulled you into the back seat with him, Courtney climbing in after.

Rafe placed you in his lap, he forced you to look at him. "Baby girl, you're safe, okay?"

All you could do was sob. Fear taking over your body. "The end," You spit out between sobs.

Rafe holds your face between his hands. "The end? What end, sweetheart?"

He'd never seen you cry so much. Your entire face was bright red and moist from tears. Everyone else in the car was silent as Topper drove.

"My end!" You sob loudly.

*insert my favorite gif i can't find*

Rafe is just staring at you with a puzzled look on his face, tears spilling from his eyes. "Baby, what are you talking about?!"

You quickly grabbed the door handle, swinging it open as you tried to jump out.

"Y/N!" Courtney yelled.

Rafe had his hands around your waist and Courtney grabbed your wrist pulling you back in.

Topper swerved at the sudden commotion but quickly regained control. "Dude, what the fuck!?" He yelled from the driver's seat.

You started screaming again and tugging at your hair again.

"What is wrong with her?!" Kelce yelled.

"Psychosis!" Courtney replied, pinning your hands down. She got on top of you, straddling your lap. "Rafe, hold her still!"

Rafe did as he was told, bawling his eyes out. He'd never seen anything like this in his life.

Courtney decked you as hard as she could in the side of the head and you went unconscious.

"What the fuck!" The boys yelled.

Courtney sat back, letting you rest in Rafe's lap. "Drive," She says.

The car ride was silent besides Rafe's sobs as he cradled your head.

When Topper pulled up to your house, Rafe carried you inside, immediately going to your room and tucking you into bed.

He sat and stared at you, his tears never letting up.

You stirred slightly but leaned deeper into your pillow.

"I need to talk to you," Courtney said from the door.

Rafe looked up to meet her gaze. He nodded. He looked back at you, placing a kiss on your forehead before joining Courtney in the hallway.

Courtney pulled Rafe down stairs to where Topper and Kelce were.

"What the hell is going on?" Kelce asks.

Courtney sighs. "Psychosis. She has episodes when she's really depressed."

———-

You tumbled out of bed and grabbed the knife from you bedside table. You crawled toward your bathroom and locked the door.

Rafe was surely mad at you for going to Barry's and getting fucked up. All your friends were probably about done with you. Your dad was gone. Fuck it right?

You took a small post it note from your counter and wrote out a few simple words. I love you, Rafe.

You stuck it to the counter and sat down.

They are better off without you. Kill yourself. Bleed.

The voices made you cry. You didn't want to leave Rafe but what if they were right? Maybe he was better off without you.

You put the knife to your wrist, tears falling down your cheeks. You force yourself to smile and slice the knife quickly across you skin, far too deep.

———-

"I'm gonna go check on her." Courtney said.

She had explained to the boys what exactly was happening to you. You were spiraling into a deep depression. But not like most people experience. Hallucinations, anxiety, the comatose states. It was taking over your body. You were in a very fragile state and the drugs didn't help.

"RAFE!" Courtney screamed.

Rafe got up immediately and ran upstairs, Topper and Kelce not far behind him.

"She locked herself in the bathroom!" Courtney cried.

Rafe didn't waste any time as he threw his shoulder into the door.

"Y/N!" He screamed, finally kicking the door in. He saw you motionless body on the floor, blood draining from your wrist.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, NO, NO!" Rafe repeated as he ran to your side. "Call 911!" He screamed as he ripped his shirt off and wrapped it around your wrist.

Courtney was frozen, tears falling from her eyes as she watched you bleed out. She couldn't help but remember the time you'd tried to do the exact same thing in her bathroom at nine years old.

Kelce caught Courtney as she collapsed. Sobbing over the fact she could never make you happy enough to stay on this earth.

Topper was level headed. He called 911. He explained everything that happened.

Rafe was hysterical when the paramedics arrived. They had to pull him away from you.

He climbed into the ambulance with you. There was no way he wouldn't be with you this time.

"Stay with me, baby, please, please, stay with me. I love you so so much." Rafe said as he held your hand.

"You her boyfriend?" The paramedic asked.

Rafe nodded, keeping his eyes on you. "Why couldn't I help her?"

Rafe's eyes scanned your body. You were pale and thin. Your hair was matted and you had circles under your eyes. He couldn't help but blame himself for not taking care of you.

"It's not your fault, kid." The paramedic said.

Rafe pressed his lips to your frail hand, praying for the first time in his life. He asked whatever God was listening to help him build a life you would want to be a part of. He just wanted to know what to do. What he could do to make you happy.

Rafe sat and watched as they once again hooked you up to machines. His angel, his baby girl, his goddess. He would never understand why she wanted to destroy herself.

As frail as you were, you were still vibrant in his eyes. And maybe that's why he hated himself. He thought you were were perfect every time he laid eyes on you. He couldn't see your bones pertruding or your hair falling out of the loss of your voice. Any state you were in, he was completely in love with you.

————–

You opened your eyes, taking in the blinding white walls of the room around you. The fluorescent lighting burned your retina's as you reached up to shield yourself from them. That's when you noticed the pain in your left wrist.

"Ow, fuck!" You examined the white bandage that was wrapped around your forearm. A deep red leaking through the cloth. You furrowed your eyebrows at the sight. You don't remember what happened or how you got here but judging by the placements of your wound, you knew you had done it to yourself.

"Shiiiit," You mutter as you sit up and scan the room. There was a doorless bathroom in the corner, a small desk in the other. You were on a small twin sized mattress that lay atop a metal bed frame. The small window was covered in bars, letting in little sunlight. This wasn't the first time you'd been in a room like this.

"No, no, no, no..." You said as you got off the bed and rushed to the large metal door. You looked out the small window for any sign of someone. "Hey!" You start yelling, banging your fists against the door, completely ignoring the searing pain in your wrist. "Hey, let me the fuck out of here!" You continue banging and kicking the door until someone finally opens it.

You step back as you watch two people enter. One woman in a lab coat, dark hair pulled back, glasses, clutching a clip board. The other, a man, in blue scrubs.

"How are you feeling, Miss Y/L/N?" The lady asks.

"Why am I here?" You ask, staring angrily at her. "Where's Rafe?"

She takes a step forward and you take a step back. "You are here, Miss Y/L/N, because you experienced a deep state of psychosis and tried to take your own life."

Psychosis. You hadn't had an episode since you were a kid. It only ever happened when you got severely depressed.

"You also had a large amount of cocaine and alcohol in your system. You became a danger to yourself and others. After you were treated at the hospital," She motions to your wrist and you bring it behind your back, hiding it. "You were brought here for treatment.

You scoff. "I don't need treatment. I just had an episode. I need to go home. I need to see Rafe!"

"You have been placed on a mandatory 72 hour hold."

"How long have I been here?"

"Six hours."

"Fuck that! Let me out, I'm not fucking staying here!"

The larger nurse steps towards you.

"If you literally step any closer I will fight you!" You spit at him.

"Y/N, we need you to try to calm down. This stress isn't good for you or your child."

"What the fuck are you talking about?! I don't have-" You stop, swallowing your words.

"You are pregnant, Miss Y/L/N."

Your eyes fall to the floor as you try to take in the words you just heard. You slowly turn and walk back to the bed, sitting down calmly.

Pregnant. Pregnant. The word repeated itself in your mind.

"Are you okay?"

You scrunched your face and waved them off, laying down on the bed and pulling your knees to your chest.

"Visiting hours are four to six. Mr. Cameron will be waiting to see you."

You don't respond, burying your face into the pillow and letting the tears fall silently from your eyes.

____________

The clock struck four and you were already sitting up, waiting for nurse to come retrieve you. You'd been thinking for the last few hours about everything. Whether or not you were going to tell Rafe. You had no clue how Rafe was feeling. You'd just tried to end your life. You also got high as fuck. You wouldn't blame him if he wanted to leave you.

You traced the RC that was scarred in your skin and silently prayed he would forgive you. Your other hand traced your stomach. You didn't want to die. You wanted to be with Rafe. You wanted your baby. You wanted to be normal and be happy for your family.

You heard the door click open and you jumped. "You have a visitor," The nurse said, holding the door open so he could escort you to the visiting room.

You walked slowly, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater. Courtney must have packed your bag. A few pairs of sweats, tank tops, and sweaters. All things the hospital would accept. She remembered what you could and couldn't have in here.

You enter the cafeteria, scanning the room and seeing people sitting with their loved ones. Your eyes landed on Rafe and you breathed a sigh of relief.

He looked up, eyes meeting yours. He slowly stood from his seat, scanning over your body as he tried to accept the fact you were in here.

You couldn't hold back the tears as you ran to him and jumped in his arms. You wrapped your arms around him tightly and you could feel him sniffling into your hair.

"Hey baby girl!" He mumbled, letting his own tears flow. He gripped you for dear life, as if he were to let go you'd simply evaporate.

"Rafe, I don't remember anything." You whisper.

You could feel Rafe try to control his breathing. He obviously remembers everything.

"Sit down, baby." He says, releasing his grip on you and helping your weak body into the chair. He sits next to you, taking your hands in his.

He choked back tears as he felt how frail you were.

The expression on his face broke your heart. Knowing it was your fault he was in so much pain. "Rafe....I'm so sorry..."

He shook his head. "No, baby, no. It's not your fault. I'm sorry I didn't take care of you."

"Rafe, baby, what are you talking about?" You lean forward, tilting his chin up to look at you. "All you do is take care of me. This isn't your fault."

"I just-" He begins, trying to take in a deep breath. "I just want to make you happy. I want to build a life that you will be happy with."

"You make me so happy, Rafe. My head just isn't right. But I'm gonna get it right. For you. For us. For-" You stop yourself. "For us." You repeat.

You hated yourself right now. The way tears spilled out from his beautiful blue eyes. You can't believe you put him through this.

You force yourself to smile. You didn't want to be here. You had absolutely no idea what to do about the news you were pregnant. But if being here could potentially get you some help, you were willing to do so. For him. For your baby.

You climb into his lap, wrapping your fragile arms around his neck. He brings his arms up, wrapping around your waist. His wrist rested on your hip bone, noticing how thin you were under your sweater.

"Did you eat today, baby?" He whispered, already knowing the answer.

You shake your head. "No, but I'll have dinner after this." You promise. Knowing you have to eat for two even though the thought of food made you sick.

You pull back from him slightly. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Rafe sighs, the memory of the night prior causing him extreme anxiety, but he nodded his head.

-

A look of disgust sat on your face as Rafe finished telling you what happened. You were so upset with yourself. You could have reached out for help but you decided to fuck up instead. As you always do. Always afraid of asking for help and just getting high and trying to end it all instead. Even when you were with the love of your life.

"5 minutes," A nurse said as he walked past you.

You and Rafe both ignored him.

"Rafe..." You began, tangling your fingers with is. "I'm going to get better okay?" He was hesitant and you didn't blame him. Rafe was a coke head, yes, but he had never seen this side of addiction. "I'm going to talk with the doctor tonight. Talk about meds and therapy and all that shit. Just please...please don't give up on me."

His eyes shot up to meet yours, almost offended by your words. "I would never leave you."

That's when you realized how fucking shitty you were. Rafe was a coke head. But he stopped for you. He took care of you when you overdosed. When you tried to end your life. He was completely addicted to you. Drugs couldn't compare. He'd do anything just to have you but here you were, running off to the trap to get high and landing yourself in a mental institution.

The nurses announced that visiting hours were over and your stomach dropped. You weren't ready to spend the night without Rafe.

"I'll be back tomorrow," He promises. "I love you more than anything, angel." He said as he pulled you into him and pressed kisses to your head.

"Can you bring Courtney tomorrow?" You ask.

Rafe's face falls. "Uhm..."

"What is it?"

Rafe sighs. "Courtney is, uhmm...she's upset."

You look down. Courtney had been subjected to this before. You couldn't blame her.

"I'll talk to her, okay?" He says, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. You just nod in agreement and he presses a kiss to your lips.

You want to savor the moment forever but it's cut short by the nurses ushering you all back to your rooms. You turn to look at Rafe one more time. He attempts a smile but you can still see the pain on his face.

Once you are back in your room you let it all out. You sobbed loudly as you thought about your actions, how much pain Rafe was in, how Courtney was hurting, how you had a tiny human growing inside you. It was all so overwhelming.

A nurse knocked on your door and you quickly wiped away your tears. "Dinner?"

You offer a smile, walking over and taking the tray of food from him. "Thank you."

You go back to your bed and pick at the food on your plate. It looked disgusting but you knew you needed to eat. You rubbed your belly, knowing the little life you and Rafe created was growing inside you. Suddenly, you didn't feel so alone.

_________

You stayed calm the next few days. You saw the doctor and she prescribed you some antidepressants, ones that wouldn't hurt the baby, you made sure.

She voted against the anti-psychotics, since it didn't seem to be a prominent thing. You knew this last episode was fueled by depression, alcohol, and far too much cocaine.

Rafe visited you every day. You still hadn't told him. You couldn't, not like this. You told him how hard you were trying to get better, and he could see your change in behavior. Being completely sober seemed to improve your mood so much.

After Rafe left on day three, you headed straight to speak with your therapist.

"Hey," You said as your plopped down on the couch in her office.

"Y/N, how are you feeling?" She asks with a smile.

"I'm good," You say, biting your lip and blushing. "Just saw Rafe. I can't wait to get out of here and be with him again." You throw your head back, smiling like an idiot.

She chuckles. "Will he be the one picking you up tomorrow?"

"Yep!"

"Have you told him?" She asked, motioning to your stomach.

You smile and place your hand on your belly. "Not yet. I want it to be special. I don't want to tell him while I'm locked up in here. He'll go nuts. He's a very hands on type of person."

She nods. "How are you feeling about your sobriety plan?"

"I can do it. For Rafe and for our baby. I don't want anything to happen to him."

"Him?" She asks, raising her eyebrows.

You smile. "Yeah. I've been having dreams the last few nights. It's a boy."

Your therapist humors you. Getting through the rest of your session, she makes sure you're all set up with your medication, contact info for any help you may need, and goes over the plan you two worked out for getting back on your feet.

In all honestly, you didn't care. Yes, you were going to take your meds. Yes you were going to stay sober. But you just wanted to get home. You wanted to be with Rafe.

________

You woke up the next morning with a smile. You threw on a clean pair of sweats and a tank top. You tossed your beach waves into a high ponytail. You couldn't help but smile in your tiny bathroom mirror. Rafe would be here soon and you'd get to go home.

All you wanted was to get some McDonald's, go home, make love, and watch movies with the love of your life. You were determined to prioritize your happiness so you could be a good girlfriend and a good mother.

You sat on your bed, clutching your duffle bag. You couldn't help but smile as you tried to be patient for the nurse.

Finally, he came to retrieve you. "Ready to go, Miss Y/L/N?"

You jumped up from your bed and walked out the door. "Yep!"

You walked with confidence, feeling like your old self again. You clutched your bag to your shoulder, running your thumb over the RC on your chest. You couldn't help but smile. Things were going to be good now.

The nurse escorts you out to the lobby, and to no surprise, your blue-eyed, 6'4" boy was waiting for you. You dropped your bag and jumped into his arms.

"Hey baby!"

"Pretty girl," He whispered into your neck. "I've missed you so much."

You enjoyed his embrace for a moment before he set you down and picked up your bag. "You ready to go?"

"Fuck yes!" You say excitedly.

Rafe laces his fingers through yours, trying his best to ignore the bandage on your wrist.

He walks you out to his truck and helps you into the passenger seat. "You hungry?" He asks.

"Mickey D's!" You yell excitedly. Your meds were doing a great job of bringing your mood up.

Rafe chuckles. "As you wish, angel." He closes your door and runs around the truck to hop in the drivers side.

Rafe pulls into the drive thru, ordering you nuggets and fries and a McFlurry, of course. He orders himself some food too and he parks in the parking lot.

The two of you giggle, throwing fries at eachother and sharing food. Just enjoying the moment on this beautiful sunny day.

"So I'm guessing you're ready for a horror movie marathon?" Rafe asks as he drives back to Figure Eight.

"Most definitely!" You tell him. "But...can we stop by Courtney's real quick?"

Rafe bites his lip at your request, but he nods.

Courtney had barely talked to the boys in days. She was traumatized. It was the second time she'd seen you try to take your life. She did everything in her power to make you happy and it was never enough. It wasn't her fault, of course, but she couldn't help but feel like it was.

Rafe pulls into Courtney's driveway. He's about to get out of the truck but you stop him. "Just, give me a minute. Please." You tell him. He's reluctant but he nods.

You hop out of the truck and head towards the front door. You take a deep breath before ringing the door bell.

Helena answers, taking in the sight of you. She held back tears as she pulled you into her arms. She didn't say anything. Just held you tight and rubbed your back before nodding towards the basement.

You offer her a smile and head downstairs. You could hear a movie playing loudly. You turned the corner to the theater room, seeing Courtney spread out on the couch. A plethora of soda cans and snack wrappers littering the table in front of her.

"Court?" You say softly. Almost hoping she doesn't here you. But she does. Her head snaps to you, but she doesn't move to get up.

She reaches for the remote and pauses her movie. "Hey," She finally says. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm, uhm...I'm good." You told her. "How are you?"

She snorts at your question. "Living the dream."

"Courtney, I'm so sorry-"

"Why'd you do it?"

"I-I don't remember doing it. It was a mistake."

"So I'm supposed to forgive you and just wait for you to do it again?" She scoffs.

Her words hurt, but they are valid. "I'm totally sober now, Court. And I'm on meds. I'm really trying to sort my shit out."

"What's gonna keep you sober? Rafe obviously isn't good enough. You should have seen him after they took you to the nuthouse. He was a fucking wreck. I've never seen a grown man cry like that!" She's standing now, yelling at you.

Your face twitches but you bite back tears. "I know. But it's different now."

"How's it different, Y/N?! Please, enlighten me!"

"I'm pregnant!" You say, standing up to meet her gaze.

Her eyes widen, trying to find the words to say.

"Rafe doesn't know yet." You add.

Courtney's lip quivers. She couldn't be mad at you. As much as you hurt her, she loved you more than anything.

She pulls you to her, hugging you tightly. You hug her back as she rocks you back and forth.

You hold each other for a solid five minutes. She pulls back, taking your face between her hands. "You're gonna be such a good mama." She tells you with a smile. And she meant it. As fucked up as you were, you were loyal, and you put the people you loved first.

You beam up at her. She leans down and presses kiss to your lips. "Don't you ever do that shit again," She scolds when she pulls back.

"I promise, Court."

She smiles. "Go, tell Rafe."

You smile back at her. "I'll text you. I love you."

"I love you, too." She smiles.

You run upstairs and out the front door, quickly hopping into Rafe's truck.

"Everything okay?" He asks.

You smile. "Everything is perfect. Can we go back to my place? Watch movies, order food, and maybe take a bath?" You ask.

"That sounds perfect, baby girl." He says, leaning over and kissing you.

You bite your lip and look out the window, excited about your future for once in your life.