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thedeviltohisangel · 9 months ago

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All The Things I Did (3): Don't Leave Me Alone

chronology: chapter 1 chapter 2 interlude 1 chapter 3 interlude 2

a/n: well well well. here i am again. not as sad as interlude 2 i promise. i put them in chronologic order up top for all the new fans of this fic. focusing on gale and cass this chapter. i've appreciated all the screams in my ask box (i will explain anything about spook x bucky i've got going on in my head whenever you want, shoot me a dm) and will work on more interludes this weekend. keep the prompts coming! good a good mix of current & post war bucky x spook. love you guys and enjoy this longer one in celly of the finale.

Of all the places for them to bump into each other, no one should have been surprised it was in the base library. It was small and quiet and didn’t have the nicest lighting. But it had plenty of books on plenty of topics and very few people ever frequented it. Normally, it was her place to unwind and seek solace. Breathe in the scent of the worn bindings and get lost for a few hours. Cass wasn’t sure if John even knew it existed so it only made sense that this is where Gale would find her first.

Gale Cleven had been in communication with John Egan since their first day of basic training. Had watch him fly and crash on occasion. Watched him flirt and dance and take girls home. Only a few times had watched him give a piece of his heart and never once had he watched it go anywhere. When he had sent him the unicorn to pass along as an apology to a bar owner in Greenland, John had written one line at the end that made him more confused than the figurine had. A little note at the bottom: P.S. I think I’ve found my girl.

Gale hadn’t known then, wouldn’t know for awhile, that Bucky had only seen her across the airfield when he had written that. Hadn’t even spoken a word to her. Had taken one look at the way every man on that base stopped and parted for her. One look at the way she navigated herself around the airfield while never looking up from the paper in front of her. John Egan had been gone like a freight train.

“Excuse me, Lieutenant Cooper?” She was in an armchair in the back of the library, curled up as much as her uniform would allow, thumbing through a book on Prussian history with two others opened and balancing precariously on either side of her and a stack of yet-to-be-read books piled on the floor. “I don’t mean to intrude. I just thought I’d introduce myself. Gale Cleven, friends call me Buck.”

“My friends call me Cass.” She shook his hand as firmly as she could, her right arm in a sling. “You know, John has a whole thing planned for us to meet. He’ll be heartbroken.” Him and Cass had spent the night on a blanket in the flowers, just like she had wanted upon her return. He told her all about his best friend Buck and that introducing her to him was almost like her meeting his sisters or mother. Joked that she needed Buck’s approval before he could take her on another date.

“We can work on our story. Let him still have his moment.” Cass smiled and motioned for Gale to take the chair next to her. She placed a notecard between the pages to keep her place before giving him her full attention.

“I’m sorry your first impression of me was when I got off that plane yesterday. I promise I’m not always that dramatic.” Gale laughed. The swelling in her eye had gone down slightly and there was color back to her cheeks. Maybe a couple of new bruises on her neck but he assumed his friend was more likely the culprit of those than the secret police.

“I barely noticed over the commotion of Bucky.”

“I wasn’t expecting that,” she noted shyly. All of a sudden her fingernails were much easier to look at than Buck’s gaze.

“I’ve known Bucky, John, a long time. You’ve enraptured him, Lieutenant.” Gale hadn’t expected such a reaction either. Bucky had always been somewhat impulsive, sure, but always with a personal gain in mind. Win the bet. Win the girl. Win the game. But yesterday had been near primal. A base instinct to protect. To put himself in between her and those who would do her harm. It had come as natural as breathing.

“Your word choice is inspiring, Major Cleven.” Her eyes twinkled. She knew.

“Has he serenaded you yet? Then you’ll really be inspired.”

“I don’t know if that is what I would call it. I haven’t worked my way to that level of affection yet.” He thought back to the desperation in John’s voice when he called Cass’ name yesterday. Thought back to the venom that replaced it when someone got in the way of him reaching her.

“I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.” She ducked away from his gaze again.

“Don’t tell him I’m telling you this, but I’m pretty enraptured by him, too.” Gale reached over and squeezed her hand, locking the secret between them, and stood up to let her get back to her reading and to find the book he had come here looking for in the first place. “Cass? I’ve got a favor to ask. It’s kind of a big one.”

“Something wrong, Buck?”

“No. Just something that’s been on my mind since he left.” He mulled over the words for a moment. “He’s got a big heart. Does a good job at hiding it. I’ve been doing my best to protect it since the day I met him but if something happens to me up there…”

“You don’t even need to ask, Gale.” She would be his armor. Protect John Egan the way her soul had told her she should from the second she laid eyes on him. Had recognized the purity within him and felt the need to protect it. Cassandra Ann Cooper had been gone for John Egan the moment he stepped foot in England.

Gale nodded in appreciation. “I’ll see you at dinner tonight.” He walked to a shelf out of her sightline and Cass sighed deeply. She had faced down some scary people. But that interaction had her stomach in more knots than any of them. She had met, and talked to, and hadn’t made a fool of herself in front of, Major Gale Cleven. Cass smiled. John was going to be so happy when he found out.

----

The man in question was having a bit of a devious streak. Decided he was going to be early to pick up Cass instead of simply on time. Decided, after five minutes of waiting, that it had been too long since he last kissed her. Mary rolled her eyes when he came strolling in, thinking better of it when she opened her mouth to ask what he was up to.

“Mary, I swear if Major Egan is early, tell him I’m not ready.” He smiled as he heard Cass answer his knock.

“Too late, Spook. Let me in so I can see whatever potions you're brewing to look so goddamn beautiful.”

“Are you calling me a witch?” Her voice was closer this time. John pressed his palm to the door where he imagined hers was.

“I miss your face,” he provided simply.

“I have curlers in my hair.” Her mother had never let her father see her with her curlers in. Even after thirty or so years of marriage. Told Cass it took away the allure of femininity.

“Good. I’ve been imagining what you might look like in my bed in the morning-” He almost fell through the door when she opened it, her fist around his tie and all confidence choking off in his throat.

“No remarks like that in the hallway where anyone can hear you.” Cass sat back down at her vanity for the finishing touches of mascara and powder.

“Afraid they won’t find you so spooky anymore?” There weren’t too many artifacts of her life for him to look at. Photos of what she presumed were her parents and her siblings. A pile of letters with a return address in South Carolina. A jewelry box on top of her dresser.

“I don’t mind the nickname. I never had one growing up.” John stopped to admire her in the mirror as she pulled the curlers from her hair. He swallowed. It did look like he imagined she would be waking up next to him. How she would be after spending the night letting him worship her.

“Hey, wait on that for a second.” Cass put the tube of lipstick down and looked at him with a question across her brow. “Don’t want to mess it up when I kiss you.” She smiled and crooked her finger to beckon him forward, standing on her vanity chair as he got closer.

“So handsome,” she sighed as she took the opportunity of her newfound height to really take him in. She knows he would disagree but Cass found something ethereally beautiful about John Egan. The slope of his nose and the angles of his cheeks. The soft hair on his upper lip that she had found such joy in kissing.

“I’m glad you think so.” He started with just a quick peck, enjoying the look of annoyance on her face.

“That’s not worth holding up my lipstick application for.” John took that as a challenge. He felt guilty for only a second as he tangled his fingers into the curls at the back of her head and held her steady. John was trying to be mindful of the healing cut on her lip but she was pushing herself closer and closer and he had no choice but to give her more and more. It wasn’t slow. It was a spark spinning itself into a fire. An ember catching fire on all the things around it. He was a man starved for her oasis. She was a girl all too eager to tantalize him in the desert.

John slid his arms to wrap tightly around her waist, lifting her against his body and turning so her back was against the wall. Instinctually, she wrapped her legs around his waist and gasped into his mouth at the sensation. “Fuck, Cass.”

“John, we have to slow down.” She was enjoying his lips that had moved to her throat all much. Was so flushed with desire for him that beads of sweat were collecting in her collarbone. Cass unwrapped her legs from around his waist and John smiled with pride when her knees buckled ever so slightly.

“You’re right. Do this the right way. The slow way.” He straightened his tie and bent down when Cass reached up to fix his hair.

“Doesn’t have to be slow forever. Sir.” She knew exactly what she was doing when she said it. Relished in the way it made his eyes darken with lust again immediately. “We’re going to be late to dinner. And I already made a literally bloody first impression with Gale.”

“Come to think of it,” he noted as she expertly coated the red pigment around her lips, “it might’ve been more fun to try and kiss it off of you, Lieutenant.”

“There’s always later.”

He watched her hips sway to the Jeep, held her hand while he drove and smiled so wide it hurt when she slid across the bench and kissed his cheek. It all felt so normal. Felt like he was back home taking a girl to a movie and milkshakes on a Friday night. Felt like being with her was exactly where he was meant to be.

“Before you ask, no, we are not going back to the pub tonight.”

“Oh?” she asked as they drove right past. “Our memories from the other night incapable of being topped?”

“Just thought we would meet him somewhere nicer. This little bistro up the way a little bit.”

“John Egan, are you nervous?”

“Maybe.” She laughed but snuggled into his side.

“It’s very sweet that you love Gale so much.”

“Don’t tell him. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.” Cass thought back to her conversation with Gale in the library. About the mushy heart right behind the very ribcage her cheek was resting against.

“You know, I’ve been told I’m good at keeping secrets.”

----

Gale watched from the window by the table as John’s Jeep pulled into view, smiling to himself as Cass held his friend’s and kissed him. Stayed close to whisper reassuring words and knock his nose against hers to seal the promise.

“Bucky you lucky son of a bitch,” he muttered. They held hands as they walked in and when she let go to shake Gale’s hand, firmer this time as the sling hadn’t gone with her dress, John had kept his hand on the small of her back. Looking back on it, Gale doesn’t think there was a moment the whole night they weren’t touching.

“Cass, this is the best man I’ve ever met, Major Gale Cleven. But I call him Buck.”

“Gave everyone else no choice but to call me Buck, too.” John pulled her chair out for her and pushed it in, sitting straight as a rod in his own until her arm locked around his comfortably. He visibly relaxed and kissed her forehead when she offered it.

The conversation flowed smoothly, John none the wiser the two of them had already met. Buck had her giggled over stories of a younger Bucky, taking her back to their days when they were first learning to fly. She asked about Marge and John noticed the way her chin dropped into her hand and she watched Gale with adoration as he spoke about the woman he had loved since he was a child. And would love until the day they died.

“She sounds absolutely lovely, Gale.” Cass reached across the table and squeezed his hand when his gaze turned melancholy for a moment.

“If you’re crazy enough to see it through with this one,” his chin jutted towards John, “I’m sure you and Marge will be thick as thieves.”

“Hey! I’m not that bad of a guy,” he spoke around bites of his dinner.

“John, you’ve got a little…” Cass motioned to the corner of her mouth to signal a bit of sauce was lingering on his. Without even really thinking about it, she used the corner of her own cloth napkin to dab away the offense.

“Better?”

“Perfect.” Gale could lose his stomach with the sweetness. “Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me to the powder room.” John stood as she left, watching her with a dazed smile on his face until Buck coughed.

“She’s something, Bucky. A real class act. Whip smart. Has you wrapped around her finger many times over.” John hummed around his sip of whiskey.

“I’ll keep wrapping myself around it as long as she’ll have me.”

“Yeah? I should tell you she’s too good for you.”

“You’d be right. I don’t deserve someone like her.” He swirled his glass pensively. “You know I love you and I love Marge and I love the little world you two build whenever you're together. I’ve always wanted that but kept getting in my own way. Chasing the immediate instead of being patient. Cass and I, it’s going fast because of this fucked world we live in. And I’m not getting in my own way because I’ve found a girl who won’t let me.”

“Watching you two, I think it’s real, John.”

“I think it is too,” he swallowed the lump in his throat. “We’ve got to make it through this thing, Buck. I came here with nothing to lose but now I’ve got something I couldn’t stand to.” There was something desperate in his eyes. The same look Gale had seen yesterday when he was fighting the officer to reach Cass.

“Feels nice to have someone to live for, doesn’t it?” he teased.

“Nice, scary, like I’m being mauled by Meatball.” They both laughed in spite of the truth. “You think she’s smitten with me?” Gale rolled his eyes.

“I do.” Bucky nodded.

“Good.” Cause he thinks he might love her.

“Sorry for the prolonged departure.” She came back with a smile, John standing and kissing her gently. “Major, I just reapplied that.”

“Couldn’t help myself.” Didn’t want to.

He watched her and Gale banter back and forth the rest of the night with a smile on his face. Cass was the first girl he was introducing to his best friend, wished it was under better circumstances. Wished he had met her somewhere the threat of not making it to tomorrow didn’t exist. That he could court her properly and take her to the drive in and canoeing on the lake by his parents house and listen to a ballgame on the radio in the summer. Wished he had the courage to tell her and Buck that he was scared of losing them both. That he had been up there once and would back up a hundred times more if it meant they could live in a safer world.

And one day, after all three of them had done their part to end this war, John will mention this dinner at Buck’s wedding. And Buck will mention it when John asks him to be their child’s Godfather. But they didn’t know what they would have to go through to get there. That John’s fear of losing them both will come true. And that he would almost lose himself in the process of getting them back.

#masters of the air #john egan #callum turner #mota #masters of the air fanfiction #john egan fanfiction #callum turner fanfiction #mota fanfiction #masters of the air fanfic #john egan fanfic #callum turner fanfic #mota fanfic

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months ago

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WIBTA if I told my friend to wait his turn to speak during our D&D sessions?

I'm in a D&D group with a total of 4 players and a DM, all in our early 20s. My friend is a good intentioned person, but he's a little overbearing and bossy sometimes. In our group, he frequently interrupts when the DM is trying to answer another person's question or explain the setting. He'll also interrupt when a fellow player is talking through their turn or roleplaying an interaction.

At first we would just stop what we were talking about and let him finish speaking. Now, though, it seems like my groupmates are getting annoyed with it, because they will sometimes try to continue talking while he interrupts, so there are two people trying to talk at the same time. It's not world-ending to me, but still frustrating for myself and presumably(?) everyone involved.

If I were to approach him about it, I'd do it 1-on-1 in private. The reason I hesitate: I'm afraid my friend might take it harshly. He and I have known each other for years. He has autism, and when I've brought up issues with his behavior in the past, he has been too hard on himself for his lack of social skills.

Additionally, this is only his second experience with D&D (first one went awry after I introduced him to the group and someone got upset at him for a really trivial matter that wasn't 100% his fault). Our current campaign is FANTASTIC for everyone involved, and I am afraid to spook him by bringing up his behavior and potentially reminding him of the past experience.

So. WIBTA if I privately discussed his habit of interrupting people and risk ruining the campaign for him?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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izzabela · 5 months ago

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Gotta Catch 'Em All - Kenshi Takahashi x fem!reader

in which a certain swordsman has a hard time with you and your little friends

a/n: tumblr buggin. i think the requester said i could make it with any earthrealm character, so i choose kenshi! if you requested this, comment or shoot me a DM!

ship[s]: kenshi takahashi x fem!reader

warning(s): shameless self-insert of favorite pokémon, post-story, no (y/n) bull, hater to lover?

[look at them. loverbirds]

=====================

You sigh sadly as you sat alone under a cherry blossom tree in the Wu Shi Academy. Despite the clear joy on your pokèmon's faces, you couldn't help but be doleful as you thought about the recent events in your life.

You were on your Charizard's back, soaring through unending skies of your home in the Sinnoh region. You had come home from your travels to the Galar region and wanted to take a break by flying.

One minute, you, Charizard, and Noivern were happily flying through the clouds. Free-wheeling, diving, and looping over one another as your companions stretched their wings and flew high above the ground.

The next minute, you were downed by a flying lightning man. Forced to land, you were circled in by orange-clad people as their hands and weapons were pointed at you and your friends. It didn't help that they were both knocked out by a swordsman in a suit and tie. He had used the back of his sword to knock into the pressure point of each pokèmon's body.

How he knew where they were would remain a mystery.

You saw red at the sight of your companions limp bodies. The trauma your pokèmon had, since they had come from a background of abuse. They were rescues, all of them, diligently taken care of by you when you found them at their worst.

You remembered the rest of your pokèmon coming out as well. Your Metagross, Gardevoire, and Luxray protecting you in a defensive circle.

The madness only stopped when a man with glowing eyes, who you now knew as Liu Kang, came in and ended the scuffle. You immediately went to your flying companions' side, crying at the sight of their disabled bodies.

After reviving them with a spray, you allowed him to ask you questions. Who you were, where you were from, what timeline you were part of- you answered his silly questions honestly. Thanks to his good judgement, he let you go, but not without answers of his own.

He told you about their world. How their world was full of magic and sorcery, gods and goddesses, and bizarre things you only read in light novels. He introduced you to his own friend, Geras, who was the Keeper of Time and protector of the hourglass.

After relaying your story to him, they concluded you were not a threat, but an unfortunate accident of a pervious situation that happened. You were ordered to stay at the Wu Shi Academy, under the careful gazes of his champions, until they were able to bring you home.

Days turned into weekS, and weeks turned into months. Right now, it marked the seventh month you had no sign of going home. Despite the bleak situation, you had made the most of it by making friends.

Johnny Cage was by far the easiest to befriend. Easy to talk to, extroverted, and a natural people-person, you found his egotistical self a joy to be around. He asked you many questions of your world and pokèmon, taking pictures of them- even asking if he could come home with you to see more. He got in trouble with your Metagross once, knocking on his metallic head and getting a small Bullet Punch in response.

Kung Lao was similar in that regard, except he was filled with more pranks than a ten year old child. Yes, he checked up on you from time to time, but he mostly played with your pokèmon and included them in his pranks and bets. He once led your Noivern to scare Raiden's little sister as she was given a tour by a couple of monks. Poor girl, spooked out of her wits. Your Noivern was also quite shaken, following her to try and make it up to her.

And speaking of Raiden, he was by far the kindest one to you and your pokèmon. He offered to feed them, play with them, even bathe them with you. You rewarded him with your Pokèdex, showing him all the pokèmon that you had encountered on your journeys. The way his eyes sparkled with curiosity, asking questions about their evolutions, origins, and more.

The only person you couldn't get past was Kenshi Takahashi. His face was plastered with a constant, unreadable emotion, and the sunglasses didn't help his case. He always avoided you, whether with his eyes or his entire body. He also spoke very little with you, and seldom did you see him with your pokémon- granted, did you ever see him with your pokémon?

He also had his hand on his sword, Sento. Every time you saw him, his hand was always on his handle. You knew that it was to aid his handicap, his vision taken from him during an incident that proceeded you.

Why he avoided you, you didn't know. Perhaps it had to do with the knocking-out of your pokèmon, but you had let that go due to the fact he did it out of defense. Perhaps it's what you said, but you couldn't think of a time where you held a conversation with him. Maybe it was the way you looked at him? But his vision was only there for him to see, not truly allow him to use it to enjoy life.

Which brings us back to where we started- you sitting under the cherry blossom tree as you watched your companions playing and roughhousing with one another. You pick at the grass you sat upon, unknowing to the group of men that stood behind a circular concrete opening.

"There she is!" Kung Lao whispered with a pointing finger.

"Well not shit, razor-rang," Johnny scoffs. "Come on, Ken-doll, go and talk to her!"

Kenshi is behind all his friends as he breathes a sigh. He's nervous, but his mastery over his facial expressions allows him to keep his truth close to his chest.

Kenshi had been avoiding you for the entirety you had been here due to the fact he felt bad for tranquing your pokèmon. He had been trying to get closer to you, but he couldn't bare to hear your scared voice. That was how badly the entire debacle had been affecting him.

"Don't egg him on," Raiden scolds, "Kenshi knows what he's doing." He turns to face his friend again to try and read for any sign of discomfort.

Kenshi just looks at him with a light smile, and Raiden takes it as a sign to not push further. He then takes the other two men to leave the swordsman alone.

"But we want to watch!" Kung Lao cries as he's dragged away. Kenshi's stealth is no use as your head turns at the sudden voice. Only then does Kenshi come through the stone entrance, slightly stumbling. You get up at the sight of the swordsman, and your pokèmon stop playing as they're on high alert.

"K-Kenshi," you stuttered, but composed yourself as you greet him. "A surprise this is. To what do I owe you the pleasure?"

You're over the moon with his presence. In seven months, Kenshi finally came around. Albeit, it a confrontational way, but you were open to it so long as you made him your friend. However, you note how... unprofessional(?) he looks.

Scrutinizing his every move, you watch his body language. How his head moves askance, trying to avoid "looking" at you. He shifts his bodyweight from his right to his left leg, and you see his fingers rhythmically tap the scabbard of his sword.

"Earthrealm's Greatest Swordsman" was nervous.

On cue, your pokèmon are behind you as your ensemble. Like protectors, they watch the swordsman with great intent to make sure the events seven months ago do not transpire again. You command them with your hand up, stopping them from anymore advances. Regardless, you can feel the warmth coming from your Charizard's mouth as he stood directly over your shoulder.

"I, uh, just wanted to see if there were any updates on Lord Liu Kang's search for your way home?" You're dumbstruck over this conversation starter.

In the seven months you had made friends with everyone, this was the first time Kenshi spoke to you. The topic in which he chose to converse with you, however, set in stone your thoughts on how he thought about you. Any hope you had in allying yourself with him was gone, and it was evident in your response.

"O-oh," you say, a little dejected. "Well, no, Liu Kang hasn't found any leads."

That was a half-lie. Liu Kang mentioned to you in the last week that he found the faintest tether to your world, but he would need more time to make the connection more stable. In the mean time, you were to remain alert.

Kenshi didn't know this, though. And you intend to keep it that way as you went back to sitting on your bum on the warm grass, telling your pokèmon to scatter and play once more. Kenshi is stunned at your response, but he doesn't relent.

"I, uh," he clears his throat. "I would like to apologize for what happened a while back."

Your head turns up to see Kenshi, rubbing the back of his neck as he stands where he is. His brows are scrunched together, a look of contemplation and regret as his apology rings out in the air. You sigh and let your head hang.

"Kenshi I-. Agh, it's fine, really." It's now awkward as you begin to pick at the grass, trying to fill the silence that envelopes both of you.

Kenshi takes his own seat next to you, and you're reddening at how his shoulder brushes against yours. Thankfully, his sight only limits him to see shades of teal and black, so he can't see how flushed you've become.

"I didn't mean to avoid you," he begins as he watches your pokèmon play. "I just felt... guilty? Shameful? Whatever words describe the gnawing feeling in your chest."

You give him an upside-down smile, gently shoving at his shoulder.

"You knocked my pokèmon out! At the very moment we met, you knocked them out at their pressure points- how did you know?"

Kenshi can hear your playful tone as his shoulder relax a bit more. He snickers as he rubs his nose.

"I mean, it's no different than any other animal," he explains, thumb rubbing over the sheath of his sword. "I have experience with things like these."

And he begins to tell you stories about his missions with the OIA, an organization that investigates the weird and wacky that happens in this world. He talks of dragons that tower over skyscrapers, great battles across realms, and more fantastical tales of his adventures.

You hadn't even realized that your pokèmon had begun to crowd around you two. Luxray had nuzzled himself in between you and Kenshi, his head leaning towards the tattooed man's hand. Noivern had situated herself upside-down on the tree above you two.

Charizard sat behind you both, while Metagross put his arms close to himself to indicate rest. Finally, Gardevoire sat next to you, purring her name as her hand was on your leg.

"You seem to have a strong bond between your companions," he envies, unsheathing his sword.

"Is your sword not animate?" you ask, "Johnny mentioned that it could move."

He awes you as he focuses his energy to move the sword up and down, spinning it in its place as a blue light was emitted from it.

"Amazing!" you clap. Kenshi smirks a bit as he recalls his sword back into its sheath.

The rest of the day wastes away as you two conversed amongst yourselves. Finally, you had caught all of your friends, especially the rare Kenshi Takahashi, and put them into the database of your memories.

=====================

aighr, ain't gonna lie, i restarted this fic three times because i couldn't find a way to incorporate a beginning

requester, i hope you enjoyed your prompt come to life!

i've got a couple more fics on the way, so stay tuned in

i'll see yall in the next fic!

#mortal kombat #mk1 #kenshi takahashi x reader #kenshi x reader #kenshi x you #kenshi takahashi x you #mortal kombat 1 2023

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collapsedglasshouses · 1 year ago

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An Angel for Noah || Noah Sebastian x OC [Part 1]

DIVIDER ART WORK BY @cafekitsune

PAIRING: Noah Sebastian x Jules (she/her)

SUMMARY: When Jules finds herself assigned to be a rockstar's guardian angel, she couldn't be more overwhelmed.

WARNINGS: ANGST (LIKE A LOT), talks about death and grief, talks about mental health issues, talks about religion, swearing, … (each chapter is going to have individual content warning, if I forget something pls let me know)

A/N: Hello! I'm back with a new series. I’m not religious at all but I wanted to do something like this because it spooked in my head for years but I never found a fitting story line. Also this was my way to tribute Keaton Pierce, whose music I loved and whose death still makes me so incredibly sad. So this fanfic is dedicated to Keaton and therefore very dear to me.

Keep in mind, this takes place in an alternative universe. Even though I write about real people, the way I write them has nothing to do with how they are in real life.

If you wanna be added to the tag list, please let me know in the comments or DM me.

When her alarm rang at 6 AM, Jules was everything but pleased. The weekend had been way to short and the gravity of life slowly began to hang on her shoulders again. Sometimes she couldn't believe how stressed she was at such a young age.

She was twenty-two years old, a music student at Juilliard and literally all the pride and joy of her family. Being an only child of a couple who wished to have children for years, made it very clear that Jules was going to have everything she needed in life.

So when she crawled out of her bed and made her way into her bathroom, she reminded herself of how proud her parents were always going to be.

When she looked at the clock again, she realised she was running late, so she quickly grabbed her coat and scarf, before heading to the front door, where she reached for her backpack and keys.

Not even five minutes later she ran out of the apartment building and looked from left to right. Quickly she started to walk in the direction of her university. She knew she couldn't be late again. It was only weeks before a very big performance with the school orchestra and this semester she finally got the opportunity to play one of the first violins.

When she reached one of the big crossroads, she quickly glanced at the green traffic light and than back at her phone, ready to dial her best friend's number to inform her about her possibly being late.

But she hadn't had the time for that, because the next thing she knew was a sharp pain in her whole left side and than a hit on her head.

When she woke up again, her head rang. The room she was in, was so bright that her eyes just couldn't adjust to it. It took her several minutes to finally realise where she was. She was laying in a hospital bed. Or was she even laying? She just noticed her parents in front of her. Eagerly Jules tried to remember what had happened but she just couldn't put the pieces together.

"Mom?" She asked weakly but couldn't hear anything except her mother's muffled cries.

Jules felt so different. She could remember the immense pain she had right before she was here but she just couldn't think of the thing that made her feel like that. When she tried to get up, it was easier than she thought. Everything just felt so light and easy.

She sat at the edge of her hospital bed, when she realised that she had no cables attached to her. Why was she even here, when she wasn't even in pain?

"Mom? Dad?" She said again but again her parents didn't answer her.

She sighed before standing up and turning to the bed, when it hit her just like the vehicle earlier this morning.

Why was she still laying in that hospital bed?

Jules's gaze wondered between her parents and herself. Her parents were crying. Her mom almost crumbled in her father's arms, while he tried to hold himself together.

When she looked back at herself in that hospital bed, she just couldn't believe it. She looked awful. Her hair was tangled and a bandage was wrapped around her head. She couldn't even recognize herself anymore. There was no color on her except the blood sticking on her forehead and neck. When Jules noticed that even on her other self no cables were attached, it really hit her.

She was dead.

Her parents cried because they lost the only child they had. The child they loved more than anything. And only because she was looking at her damn phone.

"The driver is still alive." She heard a familiar voice behind her and jumped a little. When she turned, an older man stood at the door of the hospital room and she instantly recognized him.

"Grandpa?" She asked the man in front of her and couldn't believe her eyes. He stood there like she remembered him. Very colorful and satisfied.

"The driver is still alive. A single mother. She also looked at her phone and didn't realize she drove over a red traffic light." He explained and stepped next to his granddaughter.

Jules didn't know what to say so she just looked at her parents again, who couldn't bear to leave her side.

"What now?" She asked her grandpa, who put an arm around her.

"Now begins your new forever, my dear." He answered her softly before guiding her away from the bed. Jules realised she had began to cry. Everything in her wanted to go back inside her body. She didn't want to go. She didn't want to leave her parents.

"Five more minutes." - "Jules, you know it wouldn't be just five minutes."

Her sobs became more hysterical. "I can't go, grandpa. I can't leave them."

Jules closed her eyes for a couple of seconds and tried to contain her cries but when she opened her eyes again, she was in a white room. Confused she looked around her while her tears ran down her face. Her grandpa was gone. Everything around her was just white.

"No!" She screamed and tried to run in one direction to get back to her parents but soon her head was met with a transparent wall. She fell to the white ground and held her head in reflex. She couldn't even feel the impact. In fact she couldn't feel any of the things that happened to her. No head injury, no pain at all.

"Let me out! I NEED TO GO HOME!" She yelled with so much anger and sadness in her voice that she knew she would have had a sore throat if she hadn't been dead and therefore numb already.

"Fuck." She swore and ran a hand over her face. This couldn't be real, this was all just an obscure dream of hers. She would be woken up by her alarm in a couple of minutes and she would go to university and she would drink a coffee with her best friend Meghan after classes and than she would call her parents and talk to her mom for hours, like she always did. "Fucking hell!"

"In fact, it is not." A voice suddenly said, causing Jules to get up from the floor and look around the white room. There was a man she didn't recognise at first, but when she got closer she got even more confused.

"Aren't I supposed to be dead? Why the hell do you look like Oli Sykes?" She asked the person in front of her. He laughed.

"No worries, darling. Oliver is pretty much alive." The man exclaimed while Jules eyed the guy closely. There was literally no doubt, he looked like Oli.

"Then why the fuck do you look like him?" - "Oh, yeah... I'm an angel... You know... Heaven and shit." - "I don't believe in god and that doesn't explain your appearance."

"That is kinda rude, Julliett." The man walked through the empty white room and looked around before his gaze landed on her again. "You may know about angel appearances. We normally don't look very human-like. So we got the regulation to turn into someone our new angel trainee wouldn't be scared of... And since I know about the dirty little fanfiction you read when you thought you were alone, I thought I would make myself attractive to you."

Jules mouth fell open. Did an fucking angel just out call her and her taste in fiction?

Her cheeks must have been a dark red tone, because the Oli look-a-like cleared his throat and began to talk again, "No worries, I wasn't the one who was spying on you. That was own your guardian angel."

Jules couldn't even talk. She hadn't even had the time to process her passing and now some Oli Sykes guy tried to tell her something about heaven and guardian angels.

"I know this is a lot, so imma just talk you through it. I'm just here because your guardian angel is a very busy one... You know... Sometimes not enough people are fitted to become guardian angels and than our workers need to protect more than one person and than things get messy... That's actually why you aren't playing your violin at the moment... BUT... To his defense, he really has some difficult people to watch over and that is where you come into the game." 'Oli' told her, while her mouth still stood slightly open. She knew if she would have been alive right now she would have drank herself into a coma.

"And who is my guardian angel? And where the fuck did my grandpa go?" Jules finally asked.

"Your grandpa his back at his well deserved rest. He just wanted to make sure you got here and wouldn't freak out." - "But I AM freaking out right now." - "Well, you are stuck with us so no need to panic." - "How kind of you."

"To your other question. You guardian angel will be here any minute." 'Oli' explained and with that there was a door banging shut and a stressed man appeared in the nothingness this room was.

"I'm so sorry... I couldn't make it earlier." A man stumbled into the room. He had blonde hair and soft face features. His nose was decorated with a nostril and he wore a band shirt and a black jeans. He instantly made Jules feel comfortable.

"Jules!" The guy exclaimed happily and gifted her one of the most heart-warming smiles she ever received. Immediately she recognized the feeling she had in her stomach right now. She felt it pretty often over the last couple of months. Was it him? Did she always feel it when he was near?

"I'm Keaton... Your guardian angel." He introduced himself to her and she felt herself began to smile. She liked that name.

"I know this is all very confusing. I do remember being in your position pretty well." He instantly started to explain and Jules noticed how his smile turned sad for a moment. He hadn't been here for long. "They are very picky about their guardian angels, so consider yourself lucky to be part of the team." He joked, before looking at the Oli-angel.

"You can go if you want, I'll take care of her." Keaton told the angel and with a last examining look, Oli smiled a little and than disappeared into thin air.

For a couple of seconds Keaton looked like he didn't know what exactly he wanted to say, so Jules decided to take the lead. "I just wanted to thank you for helping me. The Oli look-a-like told me you were really busy with watching over us all... You did your best. I felt protected... You couldn't save me from being dumb and looking at my phone."

Keaton looked surprised by her statement, blinking a couple of seconds before talking. "Thank you. That means a lot to me... I feel really guilty though... You were literally just an adult and now... You are here."

Jules shrugged her shoulders and gave him a reassuring look. "So? Guardian angel? What am I going to do?"

Keaton reached out to grab Jules's hand and before she knew she sat on a bench near a forest. The scenery was beautiful. The sky slowly turned into red tones while the cold wind blew around her face. She wasn't cold, but she felt everything.

"I wasn't really fond of this whole Heaven thing myself... But they really except every opinion. If you don't believe in god, it's fine. If you do, it is also fine. They usually don't have anything to do with this whole thing anyways." Keaton started to explain. "You will be assigned a person, you will guide over."

"And how exactly do I do that?" - "That is yours to find out."

Jules looked at him confused.

"You will find your ways. The only things I can tell you are: You protect them. You need to guide them. You need to prevent them from making mistakes. If you fail, they fail. If you succeed, they will thrive." Keaton explained and Jules didn't know what to say, so she just nodded confused.

"They asked me to assign you someone. You always get to watch over someone that matches you and your energy. It will be easy. Really. I got the opportunity to watch over my friends. My best friends to be exact." He explained further. "So I am more than honored to tell you, you were the first person I was assigned that I didn't already know when I was alive and it was such a fun experience seeing how a twenty-two year old reminded me so much of myself when I was younger."

Jules eyes turned a bit glossy. Seeing Keaton talk about his past and everything, made her so honored and sad at the same time. They were just two souls that were took way to early.

"So, I'm literally going to be the one to support you by taking over some of your duties?" Jules asked interested, nearly forgetting the fact, that she died not even 24 hours earlier. Keaton nodded.

"But since I know you, I decided to give you just one task." Keaton than explained, "It is something I trust you with and I just know, you are going to be the right person for it."

Jules gestured for him to continue talking.

"You need to watch over my friend Noah for me."

PART TWO HERE.

#bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfic #collapsedglasshouseswrites #bad omens rpf

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fubardish · 4 months ago

Note

Hey!! I love your work (both vore and non vore)

I have a bunch of questions if that's okay

1: Do you have any ocs you do vore with besides MobFlams?

2: Are you open for rp?

3: What are your favourite vore tropes (both safe and fatal?)

4: This is a nonsexual vore blog, right?

HeyHeeyyy!! And hell yes, les gooo

1 - Do you have any ocs you do vore with besides MobFlams?

Yes I have WAY more pred OCs up my sleeve, but I'm hyperfocusing on MobFlams all the time because... I like mobster preds :^)

Here we got my boy Kenji:

He's angry most of the time and a horrible glutton. I often draw him in various AUs because in canon he doesn't (always) eat humans. And when he DOES eat people, it's uhh... not safe :). Probably. You've gotta be REAL good friends to do safe vore with him, tho I think he wouldn't mind some casual mouth exploring?

And then we've got my man Yaten:

Again, his canon version actually doesn't eat humans AT ALL. In fact he hates it (which is why I sometimes do unaware with him, whoops :^) ) But because I am absolutely OBSESSED with creating AUs of my OCs, I obviously did also one with Yaten as a giant mean Seadevil merman that eats people. Safe and fatal, both works with him. But he's always mean and full of himsel >:]

And then I've got big nice uncle Hiroki:

He's Flams' best buddy and he's NICE. Safe vore? Absolutely yes. He can go fatal on AUs, but in canon is super friendly. Loves eating people and keeping them safe.

And then another character I love who's not mine, Andre:

He's my friend's character, but I designed him for my buddy. I often draw him because I like him... a lot 8). Also very friendly, loves humans and will never hurt them. Safe vore. Yes absolutely :)

Man... I AM really hyper-focusing on Flams. I got so many OCs I rarely draw vore with, holy shit XD

2 - Are you open for rp?

Right now, yes. Though again I prefer multi-paragraph RPs most of the time. But either way, if you're interested shoot me a DM with what you're interested in playing and we can talk about it :>

3 - What are your favourite vore tropes (both safe and fatal?)

When it comes to safe vore, I ADORE pred that wants to keep the prey warm from the cold. Spooky teasing is also very good, I LOVE cat and mouse scenes. Always a bit of thrill makes vore real gud, I love it. However when it comes with the trope of trusting eachother despite being scared of the pred MHMM YES THAT SHIT. It feels like an extended hug, but it's a spooky scary hug. A hug that keeps you safe from the outside world <3

In fatal vore I LOVE evil preds. They're just eating because they gotta eat :). Not caring too much and happily devouring spooked little peeps. Better when it comes with foodplay. Teasing the prey that they're just food and enjoying every bit of their fear and struggle. Unaware vore is also an absolute favorite of mine. Prey getting themselves accidentally stuck in food and getting eaten. They beg to be let out but either pred doesn't hear them over eating more food or they just don't care.

My two preferences in vore are VEEEERRY different from eachother, I'm aware of that. It's horrible XD. I really like both! But it's hard to keep them both in this blog because I know not everyone is fan of fatal. But I've come to a point where I don't care too much anymore. I'm gonna tag my art accordingly so that people can avoid it.

4 - This is a nonsexual vore blog, right?

Yes, absolutely! I always see vore as something non-sexual. As much as it goes into fatal and nasty stuff, I'm always seeing it as non-sexual. However even non-sexual stuff can be NSFW (as in not safe for work, in NOT LOOKING AT IT DURING WORK, I would never look at vore during that, holy shit no) But basically yes, it's non-sexual still. But please this blog is still +18 so no minors :'). Go look at my friendly blog where I have super harmless comic lmao

#ask #vore mention #vore art #soft vore #fatal vore #implied fatal #G/t vore #nonsexual vore #V0re #fatal vore mention #GT vore #giant tiny vore #male pred

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stayevildarling · 2 years ago

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Billie Dean Howard x Reader- I wanna be yours

A/N: I just woke up from a nap and had a dream about Bette Porter. This reminded me so much of Billie so here we are. Hope everyone is doing well🖤

Prompt: You are working as Billie‘s assistant and you are utterly in love with her. Thinking you are quite subtle about it, you quickly realize how wrong you are as Billie can sense a lot more than just ghosts.

TW: flirting, slightly smutty

word count: 1.7k

Tag list: (if you wanna be added or taken off, send me a dm or an ask)

@lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay, @whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson, @isle-of-earle, @paulawand, @paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld

„Is there anything else I can get for you Ms Howard?“ you ask, wrapping your hands around the little folder you carry with you at all times.

Your boss hesitates and you could tell there was something on her mind. You had worked with the medium for quite a while now and despite always trying your best to stay professional, you could tell there was something wrong.

The medium flutters her fingers, touching her fingernails and you could tell by now this meant she was nervous about something.

„I..“ The blonde hesitates and you notice she starts to shake a little bit.

„I don‘t think this is working anymore, you can‘t work for me any longer“ she almost mumbles, the regret and shame visible in her voice and features.

Your world stops turning for a minute. It feels like your breath is knocked from your lungs and your feet swepped away from you.

In the past few months working for Ms Howard, you never thought this job could become something more than that for you. It surely wasn‘t your dream career to be working as an assitant but somewhere along the lines it was all you wanted and needed.

It started off well, learning her coffee and lunch orders and little errands that Ms Howard required during her day. It wasn‘t necessarily part of the job description but you liked running errands for her and making her day a little better each day.

Her words take you back to the first day you saw her, unlike everyone you weren‘t obsessed with Billie Dean Howard, medium to the stars. You had heard about her of course and you watched bits of her show but you never thought you could like her this much.

However, meeting her for the first time completely took your breath away. Your hands were shaking throughout the whole interview because her appearance was breathtaking. Her blonde curls, her perfectly manicured fingernails to her perfect carefully picked outfits. Everything had to match, whether it was a set of pearls on her neck or her perfume. She was quite literally breathtaking.

Of course you had to remind yourself of your part in this, that you aren‘t supposed to be liking her or looking at her this way but you couldn‘t stop yourself. Especially with the little nicknames and petnames that sometimes slipped from her lips. „Thank you darling“ after bringing her her morning coffee and breakfast order.

The two of you grew closer in the months leading up to this, using the summers to stay longer in the office or going to drinks together, of course with more people from the office or using the colder months to go on walks to watch the sunset and so Billie could clear her head, this often helped her to rewind from her days or give her new ideas for her shows.

At some point you earned the mediums trust, maybe it was the way you always quite knew what she needed or that the emails, letters or whatever needed doing was finished each morning before she came into work. When a day at a set didn‘t go quite well, a spirit spooking her a little bit, she wanted to run to you. She wanted to see your calm little face and she liked being in your presence because she felt like you cared and that made Billie feel safe.

Safety isn‘t a feeling Billie would use to describe her life before meeting you, in her childhood she didn‘t necessarily feel safe most of the times and certainly not in her younger years when she suddenly saw bloody ghosts in her bathroom. Figuring out she was a medium and learning how to use her powers helped of course but she never felt quite safe, not knowing when she would have the next scary encounter.

Despite the blonde seeming tough on the outside, it didn‘t quite not affect her like everyone thought. She did spend some of her nights alone crying, finally being able to let her guard down without everyone watching her. Most people didn‘t see her as that but Billie also felt anxious, she didn‘t always like walking into a building, despite knowing there is a camera following her. She did get scared, shaky and sweaty hands and the ocassional heartbeat rising.

„I‘m so sorry Ms Howard, did I do something wrong?“ you ask a little shocked. Your mind automatically runs to a million things you might have done wrong.

„You really don‘t need to call me Ms Howard“ she almost whispers, the guilt causing her perfect features to crease.

Her office fills with silence, everyone already having left for the night and you aren‘t sure what you are meant to do. Should you just leave and accept her decision or should you try and fight for your job and being able to stay in her presence?

„I‘m sorry Ms- Billie“ you reply, feeling a little shy to use her actual name.

„You haven‘t done anything wrong darling“ she replies to your inital question.

Her guilty eyes meet yours after a second and you can‘t help but stare into her brown eyes.

„Then what is it?“ you ask a little hesitantly, as part of you feels like you deserve an explanation.

It takes the blonde a while to reply, you can visibly tell she is struggling to speak the words that are so clearly on her mind.

„It‘s the way you look at me“ she states eventually and the confusion is written in your face.

„I‘m sorry, I don‘t understand“ you explain.

Billie‘s hands start shaking again so she tries to cover it up by playing with her rings.

„You look at me like you are in love with me“ she finally lets the words escape her.

In the past few months you hadn‘t noticed but Billie noticed that your eyes started sparkling whenever you were near her. It looked as if Billie was your whole world, like her presence made your whole day better and as if you would change your whole world for her.

The blonde never knew that feeling as she never found the right person that wasn‘t just after her fame, money and status or wanted nothing more than to spend a night with her. However from her friends and various romantic movies she watched, she knew what it looked like when someone was in love.

She couldn‘t stand the fact that someone truly loved her but at the same time she knew you and she knew that you didn‘t just want those things from her. You liked her for the way she is but that terrified her, so she is trying to do the only thing she has learned her whole life to avoid these feelings.

„Believe me I have had a fair share of assistants that wanted me to do them right on this desk but none of them looked at me the way you look at me“ she explains.

You gasp a little bit, thoughts instantly filling with your head, even though you try to ignore those. Part of you wants to run away and part of you isn‘t sure whether you should stay.

„I‘m sorry.. I..“ you can‘t even form a reply worthy of what she just said. You know she is right and that you have feelings for her and of course you know it‘s inappropriate as she is your boss.

„So is it true?“ Billie asks, catching a glimpse of your eyes before taking a step towards you.

Your breaths gets caught in your throat and you start feeling a little dizzy as you see her beautiful brown eyes lingering on yours.

The blonde is scared, she is terrified of the idea of someone loving her like this, truly and unconditionally, without any intentions other than honest ones. But there is something about the way you still look at her that she can‘t quite comprehend.

Even of the possibility of being sent away and Billie calling out your feelings, you still have that sparkle in your eyes, mixed with a little bit of fear. It‘s as if she could hear your heart beating out of your chest.

„I do“ you whisper as she keeps taking steps towards you, taking all your bravery together. If you had to decide between losing your job or losing the medium forever, of course you would choose Billie, you would choose her in every life time and every universe.

Despite only blinking for a second, while taking a deep breath, it feels like an eternity and when you open your eyes again you suddenly see Billie‘s warm eyes right in front of you and feel her warm breath on your face.

„Kiss me, darling“ Billie whispers before pulling you in. When your soft lips touch hers it feels like your world is complete. If you were to die in this moment it was all worth if, just for her and for this kiss.

The blonde smiles a little into the kiss as your hearts now beat loudly against each others chests. She could tell this was a hungry kiss but it was also really gentle. She could tell you would never want to hurt her and only the best. Despite her being your world you want to give her everything and she can feel it by the way your lips touch hers.

As you stop kissing to gasp for air, you lean your head into Billie‘s neck and she wraps her arms around you. „I never said I didn‘t want to be done on your desk though“ you whisper.

The medium gasps and smiles in surprise at the same time and gently her hands wander down to your hips, her lips finding yours again and gently moving you over to the table, when your back hits her desk gently. She lifts you up and leans down you, trailing your face and neck with kisses.

„What would you like babydoll?“ she whispers, while still kissing you.

„I wanna be yours Ms Howard“ you whisper and smile cheekily and all you can hear in return is a pleased chuckle from the blonde, still lingering over your body.

#sarah paulson #billie dean howard #billie dean howard x reader #ahs #american horror story #ahs season 1 #ahs murder house #cordelia goode #wilhemina venable #sarah paulson x reader #sarahpaulson #americanhorrorstory #ally mayfair richards #writing #fic

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randaccidents · 8 months ago

Text

Intro Post thingie!!!

Finally making an intro post <3

So hi! Welcome to where I make Random Accidents happen!

Just call me Randa, any pronouns work for me I don't have a preference. I'm a creative who specialized a little too heavily into writing and worldbuilding :3

I'm also randaccident13 on AO3!

Unfortunately my dear mutuals, I am old (sike I'm in my early 20s), and unfortunately further to half my mutuals, my timezone is GMT +8. (I simply sleep at ass o clock in the morning)

Main Tags:

Art: #rand.art (my old tag is #my art, I couldn't be bothered to change all the way back 4 years of work)

Writing: #rand.writ (my old tag is #my writing, I couldn't be bothered to change all the way back 4 years of work)

Headcanons: #rand.hc

Me talking shit: #rambles

RP related stuff (cause I cant stop chattering about it it has consumed my brain): #rp chatter

Answered asks: #reply

Current interests

Currently? CCCC/Chonny Jash. Guys I am so insane about it.

There's also a side of: Minecraft (I never left the mine), Hermitcraft, WTNV, Fallen London (sorta), MILGRAM Project, Hollow Knight/Silksong (please please please release this year) and Honkai Star Rail

AUs

Cause they are getting CLUTTERED around here, here's a list of all the AUs I have currently:

Heartless AU (Masterpost here)

Tangled Wisteria AU (currently no masterpost, use #Tangled Wisteria AU)

Lie of Concord AU (HEAVY criticism piece of certain fandom tropes, use #Lie of Concord AU)

Tridential Whole (just my personal interpretation that went a little wild, use #Tridential Whole)

Find the Pieces AU (new, use #Find the Pieces au)

Organic Machinery AU (new, use #Organic Machinery au)

When the Sky Falls AU (new, use #When the Sky Falls au)

Carousel of Time AU (new, use #Carousel of Time au)

What Lies in Apathy AU (new, use #What Lies in Apathy au)

Rotten Faith over on @tridential-sauce

(And for the oldies here: #shadow people au <- this the tag for all my writing under SPAU when I was still part of the community)

I've got my ask box open and I'm always open for interaction! And asks! I'm an AU writer after all, asks might inspire something (most likely angsty sdfnsjk). But beware that I might ghost you if you spook me with a random DM or ask.

Credit for dividers goes to cafekitsune

#finally an intro post #Imma put my main tags down here too #but not the au tags #rambles #rand.art #rand.writ #rand.hc

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smolvenger · 2 years ago

Text

Miss Narracott and The Captain, Part Four (Capt. James Nicholls x fem! Reader Miniseries)

Fandom: War Horse

Series Summary: It is 1912-1914. You are Y/N Narracott, the older sister of Albert Narracott. You must do what you can so your family can keep their farm. And so your brother can keep his beloved horse. Under financial struggles, you never expect romance to come into your life...until you have a chance encounter with James Nicholls- a Captain with a knack for drawing. But the threat of war lingers in the air...

Chapter Word Count: 7K (one of the bigger ones)

Part One//Part Two//Part Three//Part Four//Part Five Coming Soon!

Chapter Warnings: Angst and Fluff. Reader being thirsty (can you blame her), but no smut. Jealousy. It's a light, Diet Slow Burn. I choose violence by selecting a cliffhanger for the ending. Attempts at historical accuracy and Cottagecore vibes.

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

A/N: Comments, Reblogs, DMs, and Asks about my work are always appreciated! Feel free to ask to be tagged in this and/or my other stuff! Thank you!

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract

@eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @infinitystoner @12-pm-510

Autumn 1913

That Sunday, You and Albert went about on one of your typical Sunday walks. As usual, Joey trotted next to you. The long grass was turning brown. The sky was so bright, yet the air was very crisp. The trees were growing orange with the harvest.

“And how was sitting in that rowboat with Lyons?” he asked, recalling the church picnic yesterday.

“Dreadful. I thought I’d fall asleep from how he droned on!” you recalled.

Joey shook his head and let out a neigh. You patted his nose. Then reached up a hand to run through his mane.

“He agrees with you on that one!”

After a beat, Albert asked.

Y/N, have you ever ridden him?”

“Oh no! Not even tried! I don’t know if I can!” you cried.

“Come on, try it!” Albert suggested, handing over the reins.

“But Albie, I could get hurt! I’m not the type to gallop!” you objected.

“Oh, he won’t! He only gallops if you urge him on! Or some loud sound spooks him! Come on- have some fun, Y/N!” Albert argued.

Albert did it all the time. He made it look so easy. And you were curious. You never rode horses. No one taught you how. Usually, the horses on your farm were for plowing instead of riding.

"Just once, Y/N! Save your feet!" Albert suggested.

You wanted to feel less afraid of things. You heard of people dying when they fell off horses. You wanted to feel in control. You envied Albert's freedom in private to run around after farmwork. And his bravery in training and riding a galloping horse. You wanted to know what it was like...and there was only one way how.

Not that you hated Joey- oh no! By now, Joey was a member of the family. He had grown bigger than the colt your family's future depended on to a gorgeous stallion. He even had a special saddle, bridle, and reigns for him. The dear horse would even sometimes trot up to you as you left the house for work. He'd nuzzle against you and sometimes let you brush his mane. One time you and Albert put your gloves on Joey’s ears for fun. Then you both roared into laughter at how his twitching ears moved the gloves like eager hands on his head. And wasn't that why many people kept horses as pets? To ride them?

“Alright...I’ll ride him. Just show me how,” you said.

“Wonderful! He can sense if you’re nervous, so just calm yourself! I won’t make him go fast!” he promised.

Albert was big and strong for a boy of sixteen now. He put his hands around your waist and hoisted you up on the saddle. Joey only let out a small sound at the feeling of your weight on him. But the horse kept still and even moved his head to glance at Albert. You swung your legs to be on one side like you noticed ladies doing. You held onto the reigns tightly.

"You see how he stood still when you got on him? That's proof he likes you!” Albert informed.

"Lead him, Albie. He doesn't really listen to anyone else," you advised.

"Come on, Joey! Let's give Y/N a ride back home!" he ordered, clicking his tongue as he gestured to the horse.

Joey began to move on the path back home, and you gasped some. You were on a breathing, living thing that could throw you off!

Balance your weight, Y/N...and be sure to keep your heels down,” Albert taught you.

You shifted to make sure your body was even and secure. Your leg stretched as you pointed your heels down.

"Good boy, Joey! Gentle…gentle…" You urged as he walked forward.

You felt Joey’s body relax under you and you relaxed on Joey. With the slow pace, you did release one hand to briefly pet him. It wasn't too far from home. You both had walked down the usual path- you and Albert had been perhaps- at most- ten miles down. And the meters were flying by. You heard the clop-clop of his hooves beneath the ground.

You got used to the pace. It was a pleasant day. The sun was shining, and one could hear the birds whistling at each other. The grass only dipped with the gentle wind. Autumnal colors painted the few trees that formed lines across the green fields.

Although it was a hilly area, Joey was used to it. Any larger rocks were stepped over or avoided. The slope on the path was slight. Though you did eye the side of the hill nervously. If you fell, you'd be rolling all the way down the hill like a wheel barrel until you landed among the sheep in the valley. You placed a hand on Joey's skin to note his temperature. If he was getting hot, he'd be slow and it was dangerous to ride a hot horse, according to Albert. But he didn't feel bad. Probably the cool air that kept him happy.

"We can go a little faster," you suggested.

"Alright!" Albert complied.

He then walked a little faster and clicked his tongue. Joey picked up speed to prance. You found yourself smiling. The Narracott House and farm appeared in the distance. Albert then looked up at you.

"You think you can ride him back?" he asked, pointing to the farm.

"Yes, I think I'd like to try!" you answered, feeling braver.

Albert then picked up his pace to a light jog and clicked his tongue.

“Okay Joey-little faster, boy!” he said.

Joey’s prance became a light run. You let out a squeal at the speed.

"Y/N! Don't scare him! And tug the reigns when you want him to slow down! Or click your tongue!" he instructed, though he was jogging next to you and getting breathless.

You smiled, feeling the sun on your skin and the clean, fresh air. You felt buzzed with movement, nature, exercise, and life. Joey passed Albert to head home. Why- in fact- it was fun! It felt like flying! You could feel how Joey’s black mane would tickle you. The air in your face was like a kiss. Albert was laughing as he kept up behind you. You were not worried about anything for once. You could enjoy the feeling of air and of your weight not touching the ground but moving. Beneath you, everything was smaller and flying faster, quicker by you. You couldn't help but giggle at it despite yourself. And sooner, sooner the farm was in view.

"Let’s keep walking home, alright boy? Keep this up, and I'll give you a whole apple from the tree! All for you!" you promised.

Once you approached the farmland, you tightened the reigns. And then clicked your tongue too for good measure.

"Slower, Joey, slower!" you urged.

Joey did slow his gait down to a mere trot. You pulled the reigns to lead him to walk through the yard to the horse area in front of the stable.

"Good boy, Joey. You're the best boy out there!" you said.

Tugging on the reigns (as you saw Albert do) Joey stopped. You then petted him.

"You're far better than half the boys in Devon! And far more handsome too!" you whispered with a giggle.

Joey brushed his lips in response. Harold the Goose let out a honk as you made your way back into the circular field in front of the stables.

"There, Joey! What a good boy! Who's the best boy?" you cooed. "You deserve an apple and a carrot too for good measure, don't you! Yes, you do!"

You hopped off. You began petting him. Albert caught up behind you. You looked into Joey's eyes, wrapping your arms around his head. Cuddling him as you would a cat. You heard Albert exclaim.

"Why- sir! Hello sir!"

"Albie, I’m not a sir-"

The rest of that phrase was cut off as you turned to see Captain Nicholls in his coat with his sketchbook. You jumped.

"Captain Nicholls! We weren't expecting you!" you cried.

"It's alright! At least your mother had plenty of leftovers for lunch!" he replied.

“What are you doing here?” you asked.

“I only hoped to draw the horse and the other creatures on the farm! What, may I ask, are you doing on Joey?” Nicholls teased.

“I…I only just rode him for the first time!” you explained.

Albert strolled up with a grin.

“Did you see that sir?” he asked Nicholls.

“Indeed, I did! I saw her gallop in from inside the house as I was done eating!” he replied.

“And how did she do?” Albert asked.

The captain turned to you.

“You did excellent Miss Narracott! You’re a natural!” he praised.

“I’ll keep that in mind, sir. You think I have a horsewoman in me?” you asked.

“If not already!” he quipped.

The picture of him and that girl at the Goose Fair snuck into your brain. You excused yourself and walked inside the house. Mum was already in the kitchen, watching the oven.

“Mum, tell me- where’s the feed? I want to make sure the animals have their lunch! Or the floors- they need a scrubbing,” you chatted. It was better to immediately distract yourself.

“There’s some dry laundry that needs folding!” she noted.

You ran out and got the dry laundry basket, bringing it to the table to fold.

She got a pan out of the oven. She set the hot, baked loaf on the windowsill, opening it up to cool. Mum then glanced out the window. James Nicholls could be seen out on the field with Joey already got his pencils and chair out and was starting to draw. Albert opened the door to the fence and then returned to talk with the guest.

“He sure does come around here, often, Captain Nicholls…” Mum commented.

“Yes…he does…” you agreed.

She turned around and sat down. Getting a fresh shirt from the basket and putting it on the table. But she paused. She glanced at you with a smile.

“Y/N, I will let you know…he has been perfectly nice to us and to your father. We…we do like him…” she prodded to you.

You set down the skirt you were working on.

“What are you implying?” you asked.

She glanced outside. Once it was clear that the men were far away, she leaned into you, placing a hand over yours.

“Y/N…if he’s showing up here often, I doubt it’s just for the animals…” she whispered with a smile.

You jerked back, shaking your head.

“It is for the animals. He’s seeing a girl!” you objected.

“How do you know?”

“Saw them together at the fair!”

Your mother blinked, her shoulders drooping.

“Oh…well then…there’s that…but don’t you think he was talking to her, nothing more?” she muttered.

Tears stung your eyes. False hope was not something you could afford. You grabbed the laundry basket with a grip.

“I’m going to do this in my room now…” you dismissed.

She put a hand on your shoulder to stop you.

“You…you have feelings for him, don’t you?” she asked.

You paused.

“Yes…that’s why it hurts…” you confessed.

She squeezed your shoulder.

“I’m glad you told me, Y/N; we can deal with your broken heart together…”

The laundry basket was placed on the table. You reached over to hug her. Quiet tears poured out of you for only a minute.

Though the sound of hooves made you look up. Then you gasped and jumped.

Joey was leaning his head through the windowsill to try to sample the cooling bread. You got out a tablecloth, batting it at him as Mum burst into laughter and so would you. Yes, bit by bit, day by day, your feelings for James Nicholls would pass…

Winter 1914

January arrived- cold, bitter, gloomy January. Thank goodness for the snow. It turned everything white and crisp and beautiful. It was one of those snowy days that saw her again. The slender blonde all the way from the summer. You knew in your stomach that it was her. She walked in with another fashionable coat and hat that you had eyed in a high-end catalog.

“Good day, welcome to Mrs. Snow’s shop,” Mary greeted, professional as always.

“The same to you,” she replied.

She only half-nodded at you as you looked about. Alice then turned the corner. She spoke in her chirrupy voice.

“Can I help you, Miss…”

“Corbyn. Sarah Corbyn,” the blonde lady introduced herself.

“Miss Corbyn, what are you looking for?” asked Alice.

“I am looking for scarves. The ones from Mrs. Valerie makes.”

“Those scarves? Oh, we just sold our last one, I’m so sorry!” Alice lamented.

“Oh, well, that is too bad…I know things run out for you here,” Sarah said with a smile.

“We will inform you when they are in stock! Ask any time!” Alice encouraged.

“How good! Thank you!”

Sarah sauntered around. Looking through items with a smile on her face. She then turned to you with a smile. She held up a bar of soap.

“Could I please have this Miss…”

“Narracott.”

“I should like to buy this lavender one, please,” she said.

She handed you the money and bought the soap. Shop bag around her arm, She then wandered over and got a newspaper, returning to you.

“Miss Narracott…there is a dance in two weeks, correct? There is the advert for the town hall…”

She pointed at it, and you glanced at it.

“Yes, yes, it is…Two per month,” you confirmed.

“I must ask you a favor. I am quite nervous despite myself! As a fellow woman, may I confide in you?” she cajoled.

“Yes. At least before Mrs. Snow arrives,” you said.

“Do you happen to know a gentleman named Captain Nicholls?” she asked.

Your eyes never left hers. You placed your hands on the counter to keep steady.

“Yes. Yes, I do.” You answered.

“My father invited him and a few of his men on a walk through the country this past Autumn. I joined them. It was a rather long walk all over. I do enjoy jumping from high places. I got to a tall rock, jumped off like so and Captain Nicholls caught me! It was the most thrilling moment of my life! And he’s quite strong too! Fathers invited him to call sometimes for tea- but I hope it’s for more than that! Miss Narracott, I believe I have affection for him and him for me! I do hope he likes me!” she voiced.

The ears floated in your brain. Never landing. Never processing. The images stuck to you, and you wanted to wash them off. But politeness and the fact you were at work forbade you.

“Other than the catching, what makes you think that?” you asked.

“Well, last Friday, I told him how I never usually go to dances. He asked why. I said, among other things, I tend to prefer better things to do with my time and I never have partners. He promised me two dances! Two! That’s a sign if ever!” Sarah continued. Her smile never drooped.

“That’s very…very good. Good for you,” you replied.

You desperately wished there was new cloth to fold or items to restock this minute.

“Well, do you think my father would approve?” she whispered.

There was a glint in her eyes. A thin eyebrow of hers arched up.

“He has no reason not to,” you answered.

“Oh, how kind you are! How good of you!” she replied.

It did not sound like a genuine compliment. She reached into her bag and retrieved her purchase.

“And I do like this soap! I advise you to buy it yourself! It helps keep away smells- especially that of farms,” she added.

It hit you like a slap. You forced your jaw shut else it’d hinge off. She then said her goodbyes, placed her soap in her bag and flounced away. Gripping onto the counter, you turned away to try to collect yourself. The three others all grimaced at each other and began to gossip about her.

“And she seemed so nice!” Mary cried.

Ida went up to you.

“I heard that last sentence! The nerve of her! Don’t you listen to her, Y/N! If she sets foot in this shop again, I’ll slap her! Mrs. Snow would fire me, but it’d be worth it!” she encouraged, rubbing your arm.

You stayed quiet.

To think this was the girl James Nicholls liked!! Other than her beauty and money, what did he see in her? Could he end up married to someone like her? All this- finding you, singling you out. Rubbing everything into your face. Why was she doing this? Had Nicholls somehow mentioned the Narracott farm? Then no doubt she found out that you- a single woman-lived there. And she wanted to make sure you knew she had her claws on him.

You let out a sigh. It would feel good to complain about her to Mum and perhaps Albert too.

When you returned home, you ran upstairs. You stared at the rabbit drawing. It was still pinned up against the wall. You didn’t have the heart to tear it to ribbons or burn it. James was never yours, to begin with. So, you only settled for keeping it in the first drawer of your desk. It was too tender. It was too kind. You could always fold it up and look at it. It was a gift that showed kindness and appreciation. Even if not specifically to you, but to your family.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

That winter there was more ice than usual. It sleeted all over the ground. Poor Joey couldn’t break into one of his famous runs about the yard. He’d have to be careful or slip. A blizzard swept over for a week, keeping everyone inside and closing businesses. When it calmed down, men poured salt onto the ground. Everyone could walk around again like normal. Animal or human.

When the shop reopened, customers filed in, each one more demanding than the last. More than once you had to fetch Mrs. Snow to reason with them. Even your co-workers were all complaining.

“I don’t know if I can talk to another Mrs about hat pins now,” Ida groaned.

“I’d like to sit for a bit for once!” you sighed.

Everyone was quite grateful when the last customer left, and the hour struck for closing. Mrs. Snow turned the sign on the window to say “CLOSED”. You gathered your basket, and put on your hat, dark coat, and gloves. You managed to get yourself a new pair for winter. But you didn’t want to discard the single one- it was too pretty. You began to head out.

“Goodbye, Alice! Ida! Mary!”

They all wished goodbye to you.

But as you began to walk out, the wintry air bit you. You shivered with the snow falling down like sprinkles.

But after a few steps who should run into you but Captain Nicholls in his long coat walking about town. You did not notice any lady near him. He grinned and approached you. You fought the bitterness in your heart. You greeted him with a smile.

“Captain, it is good to see you. It’s been a while since you graced our farm!” you greeted.

“A certain storm provided quite the obstacle. May I walk with you, Miss Narracott?” he asked.

“Thank you… you may,” you permitted.

You kept walking on. His own long stride was slowed. Some leftover ice had stretched out to the roads. Motorcars and carts had to be slow. Not to mention people.

“You have lived here over a year, what do you make of it? Country life too quiet for your liking?” you asked.

“Oh no- it’s perfectly fine and comfortable to me!” he chatted.

“And the people?”

“Oh, everyone has been splendid! Quite splendid! All the men agree!”

You didn’t want to mention the women. Lips shut, you would not play the game of manipulation and false sweetness Sarah did.

“And how have they been?” you asked.

“Good and jolly. Not that the storm stopped training or patrolling.”

As you turned over one corner you realized that the road was slipping beneath your feet. Looking down, you saw ice below your feet. You even let out a gasp and held out a hand to regain balance.

“Miss?” asked Nicholls.

“I’m quite alright!” you tried to assure him.

There was ice right before your path for several feet. And as you tried to take another step, you felt yourself wobble. If you didn’t solidify your footing, you would trip. Nicholls looked over and saw you were swaying with your arms still open. He walked slower and heavier, side by side in his gait.

“Here Miss Narracottt-allow me!” he proclaimed.

He held out his hand and took your hand. Gloves on gloves.

“Let me help you, how does that sound?” he asked.

You nodded.

How warm his hand felt. Even beneath the leather - the only thing keeping you from the contact of his bare skin against your bare skin. You felt the air in your lungs pause, only to rush out for want of air. You became nervous and excited at once- fearful and thrilled. He smiled gently at you as he held your hand. How handsome he looked- a shining star in the sky, an angel in a uniform. Letting all petty thoughts of jealousy melt away if only for a few minutes.

He guided you on the ice. He advised you how to walk slowly. Side to side with full weight on each foot. The way a duck waddles on land.

You curled your fingers over the base of his hand. You could tell he was strong like Miss Corbyn said. He seemed unbothered to lend the support you needed to keep from falling. And how gentle his hands were despite their size and strength. The leather was kept clean, and his touch did not squeeze you, but it was the right pressure. How safe he made you feel. You lingered, enjoying the touch until you made it to the not iced sidewalk. Then he let go of your hand. Your own remained in the air until you retreated it back.

“There- are you alright?” he asked.

You blinked, coming back to reality. Feeling a bit of air where you missed his touch. Even covered in gloves.

“I am,” you confirmed.

“Is there anything else you need, Miss Narracott?”

“Well, no. There’s nothing. I only ask for a safe passage back home.”

“Then, do you need me to walk you back there? Is it icy?”

“It’s not as bad…but it’s there…”

“Then let me walk you back. I wouldn’t want you to fall and get hurt.”

Through the white, thick snow, he walked you there. Only holding your hand again if it seemed the only path forward had ice on it. It made you wish that the men of the town poured less salt about the ground.

Spring 1914

Finally, Spring arrived with pomp and splendor. With the turnips and crops blooming, you could use your wages to have a ticket for a dance and a new dress to go with it. But Dad insisted Albert accompany you there and dance too. Your brother grumbled when he heard.

“You’ll never meet any girls if you stay cooped up with Joey!” you teased your brother.

“Neither will you meet any fellows!” he retorted as you both cleaned up the dishes.

He looked around. Mum and Dad were relaxing by the fireplace. Then leaned in.

“But…will Lyons be at the party?” he whispered.

“I don’t know…don’t think so. Said he hates dancing. He told me he likes to spend evenings checking his accounts with brandy.”

The evening of the dance, you checked your mirror to make sure your hair looked nice. When it met your approval, you looked at the new dress on you. In its pink with shortened sleeves, it was the nicest one you could afford to splurge on. The color’s shade looked flattering on you. Just like the ones in your garden. You wanted to forget work, the family’s rent, Miss Corbyn and Nicholls, Lyons's interest in you…and there were plenty of men in town. You only wanted to have a good time while you still could. As it matched the season, you wanted to be like a flower. To enjoy being in “bloom” when you still had it within you.

Entering the dance hall, all was happy and astir. Though this time paid for and hosted by the local militia. It seemed every young person in Devon had arrived there. No Mr. Lyons but his son, David, was gulping down glasses of punch. It was a large place with the walls painted light green. There was an open space with chairs shoved to the side for the dancing. There were two long tables filled with refreshments and drinks. It was brightly lit with the new electricity running through the place. The crowd flocked inside, and many among them were the green-uniformed soldiers.

It felt warm already. You heard the cacophony of a thousand conversations appearing at once. Many held plates and ate standing or sat in a chair. Flowers, fresh with the season's arrival, decorated each corner. A string quartet and piano, played by locals, were getting their music books in order, and warming up. You didn't know which would intoxicate the partygoers faster. The wine and champagne, the music, the dancing, the thrill, or the flowers.

Then the host went forward and said that the first dance was about to begin. Men selected their partners. They brought the ladies, blushing and smiling, out onto the floor as the musicians turned their music books to the first page.

“I barely remember any of the steps!” Albert complained.

“Oh, please! The ladies will thank you later! There are never enough men in the dance hall! They’ll always appreciate it,” you replied.

“Well, where’s dinner? I’m starving!” Albert complained.

Both of you walked over to the table. As you began helping yourself to a plate, Albert went over to talk with his good friend, Andrew Easton. You did notice out of the corner of your eye was Sarah Corbyn. She dressed elegantly in purple. The richness complimented her blonde hair. A silk ribbon tied about her waist, accentuating how tiny she was. And of course, she was talking to all the soldiers. You turned your head. You didn’t want to see it. Didn’t want it in your face. No- you would do your best to smile and be charming. Do all you can to win over as many dance partners as the evening allows.

"Oh, Y/N! I am so glad! How much we missed you!" cried Alice, running up to give you an embrace. She was decked in a lovely yellow complimenting her brown locks.

"Alice! I've missed you too! Especially seeing every man in Devon fight to be your partner!" you said.

"Oh, stop it!"

"It's true and you know it!"

"Oh, you should see Mary- she's already on the floor!"

In one corner, talking to other soldiers, you saw Captain Nicholls. He had removed his hat and placed it under his arm. You even could make out his laugh as one made a joke with him. How striking he looked even among them. And his smile made you smile as well. The gentleman pointed to his silk cap and took it off, showing it to Nicholls. He inspected it, looking at it thoroughly with his handsome hands. Then he handed it back. Nicholls said one thing that was indistinguishable, which broke the group into laughter. When his head turned, you looked away.

Once you finished your plate, you met your friends. Beaming and smiling, you managed to find a partner for the next dance through a mutual friend of Alice’s. As you went over to a table to get a glass of lemonade, two soldiers walked by, chatting. Not once did they glance at you, engrossed in their conversation. You heard the tenor voice of the first one clear as chimes.

“…I would say I should be shocked, but I’m not…. always had a bit of the romantic in him…” the first gossiped.

“Hard as he keeps it in, he does, Old James. A romantic wouldn’t have that sketchbook…” the second said.

You paused. Realizing you wanted to overhear. Before you could stop yourself.

“He’s mad about the girl! He’s a Romeo but you’d never guess it when he charges…”

“Jamie says he lights up whenever someone asks about her…”

“You don’t think…he’ll make an offer, sooner or later? I bet her father would lose his head to have a Captain as a son-in-law!”

“Oh, it’s only a matter of time. I doubt it’ll be long…they say things are getting tense. With every alliance Britain got itself into…it won’t be long then…he’ll hurry her to the altar…”

Swallowing back tears, you promptly turned away. You would not, no, could not listen further. You joined Albert and Andrew. You would distract yourself, you would…

Besides, you were determined to move on. To distract yourself. To meet with every young, eligible man you could. To give yourself options. Before the next dance began, you turned to Andrew.

"How about a dance? You must break out into there!" you prodded.

"Why, sure thing, Y/N!" he agreed.

As you began to dance as he discussed how his dad was doing. Talked about Joey. About the Easton family dog. Andrew was a stiff and awkward dancer, but as he talked, he relaxed some. You then went to your friends.

"Ida...how many of the soldiers and officers have you met? Could you please introduce me?" you requested.

Ida's face lit up like it was her birthday.

"Oh, I know some!" she bragged.

"I want to spend as much time dancing as I can!"

"To make up for the lost time?" she asked.

"Yes," you replied.

It was mostly true. You were not going to tell anyone other than your mother how you felt about Nicholls. She kept secrets better than anyone.

"Then, let me show you one gentleman! Booker's his name and he's a wonderful dancer! Oh, and Mister Smith, too!"

Ida couldn't have been better. You found out you had plenty of young officers to meet and chat with. And some of them danced with you! Though often you had to sit down and rest your feet. Even to admire everyone. There was a good balance of sitting and resting with dancing. And with a full crowd, there were plenty of other handsome faces to focus on.

Even Albert himself was smiling a little. He danced with several girls. He blushed bright red when he missed steps but kept dancing anyway. You did notice David Lyons and how smooth new his grey suit was. There was a red-haired girl, very pretty, who danced two in a row with him. It looked like she was the one to endure his sneering.

“Ah, the Narracotts!” said a low, familiar voice.

Turning around, you saw Major Stewart. He bowed in his uniform, and you returned the gesture. And right next to him, there was Nicholls. Your heart leaped into its chest.

“Why, haven’t seen any of you yet! How are you gents this evening?” Albert asked.

“Oh, just fine! The men here- we’re all happy to have some fun!” he responded.

“I hope you’ve been well, Mister and Miss Narracott! We haven’t seen the two of you all evening!” Nicholls queried.

“We have been,” you replied.

“And Albert, how’s Joey?” he said.

“Fit as can be! And gallopin’ every day, sir!” Albert declared.

“Don’t overwork him so he cannot plow,” Nicholls advised.

“Oh no sir, only after the plowing’s done! You should have plenty of time to draw him again if you want,” Albert responded.

“I shall be glad to!”

His eyes softened. They turned to you.

“Then…Miss Narracott, could I have the next dance?” he asked.

You had no partner. You could think of no excuse. You felt stupid just standing there looking at him. Part of you swallowed a scream of joy. The other part cried “No!” There was no polite way to turn him down- ladies had to dance whenever a gentleman offered. You replied.

“Yes…yes you may,” you permitted.

He offered his hand, and you took it, swallowing. Realizing you felt his bare palm on yours. It was calloused by his work with weaponry. You felt both enthralled and relaxed from his tender touch. You let him lead you on as other couples made their way around.

Just like when he helped you when the road was icy. You can indulge in it. Let him take your hand. Enjoy only one dance with him. Just one.

You let him put one hand on your back. Feeling the light pressure. You could see his thick lashes and the blueness of his eyes. You put a hand on his arm, feeling the texture of the uniform. He smelled like light sweat from dancing and cologne. You felt his breath and could even tell the slight lift in his muscles when he inhaled.

“I hope you forgive me. I’m rusty at this. I used to go dancing all the time. With work, not as much…” you explained.

Other couples gathered on the floor around you. You looked directly at him and him at you.

“I can understand. I used to avoid them,” Nicholls confided.

“How come?”

“I was too shy when I was younger. Couldn’t gather the courage to ask a girl. Then when I did, I did the wrong steps. I’d crush a girl’s toe. They all will tell you as proof!”

The violins put their bows on the strings. And you started to dance with him. Moving with his lead.

“You’re keeping out of mine just fine…I think you’re a lovely dancer, Captain…” you encouraged.

“Really?” he asked.

“Like your drawings…you should enjoy it. You should be here…”

He led you to sway as you stepped your feet into a square pattern. You accepted it. Letting him start to pull and push you with the music.

“And Miss Narracott?” he said.

“Yes?”

“You look pretty as a picture tonight.”

Your mouth went dry, and you felt the racing of your heart against your chest.

“You’re very kind, sir,” you replied.

You continued the dance. Feeling the step of the music’s downbeat. He kept turning you around and you danced with him. Let the music take you both. You could almost hear his heartbeat from how close you were.

He took a step back and you took a step forward. When he stepped sideways you followed. It was all so simple. You clutched onto his hand and let his hand on your back press you closer. The waltz was at a moderate tempo. You felt eyes look directly into yours. You couldn't peal your eyes off Nicholls either. He gave a small smile. The way he would step into the downbeat was natural, and you found that you followed.

A glimpse at the crowd showed Stewart smiling, crossing his arms. But Albert's eyes were wide, staring intensely at both of you. He hadn't done that with your previous partners. Nicholls, as always, was dashing in his green uniform. His closeness made you notice details. You can see each button on it. How pressed and perfect it was. Smooth as the round buttons ran down his chest. The four pockets- two on top and two on the bottom are like windows on a building. His lighter green shirt contrasted with his darker green tie. The lovely and ornate cream decorations on his sleeves. The more obscene part of your brain wondered what he looked like underneath it.

It felt natural to dance with him. Natural as eating, as blinking. It was like there was a crook on your body, a niche, that only he could fill. He held you with both confidence and gentleness. He didn't throw you around like a ragdoll. His rhythm met yours. Each step you moved in tandem. Looking at him was as close as one could get to feeling drunk while completely sober. You became aware of how your breath must smell of the refreshments. You only saw slight sweat on his brow from the movement and the heat of so many bodies packed into one space. You felt your own breath become ragged and short. Being so close to him, almost like an embrace. He was quite a tall man, but he was not intimidating. If not, there was a delicacy in his touch, his stature. He could break you but chose not to. It was only a gentle press to keep you steady. You realized it was your fingers curling over his. There were several other couples dancing with you. But with him, that was easy to forget.

His hands even sweated a little. But you saw he was smiling. Your own lips parted, but no words came out. It was a gentle dance. He would sometimes glance at his toes to make sure he didn't step on yours. Then they returned to you. The movement was never forced. And you found the pattern too easy. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.

After the dance, you both paused, catching your breath. You felt as though you were coursing with fire through you looking at him. You could feel your chest heavy with each intake. It felt too soon for that dance to end. People clapped.

“Miss Narracott…are you-“

“Oh, dear Captain!”

In cut in Miss Corbyn. Blinking, you took a step back.

“Miss Corbyn! I hope you and your family are well,” he greeted.

“Couldn’t have been better! How kind of you to ask!” she chirruped.

She then turned to you.

“Ah, Miss Narracott, how good to see you,” she greeted in acknowledgment.

She then promptly ignored you back to him.

“Captain, you promised me two dances. Two!” she pouted.

“That was at the one in January!” he corrected.

“And what about this one!? Will you leave me without a partner?”

She turned to you.

“It is bad for a lady to be without a partner, isn’t it, Y/N?” she asked.

“It is bad…” you said.

She whipped her blonde hair back to him.

“Well, we can have a dance?” she pleaded.

“Then, I…I, Uhm, excuse me. Goodbye,” you replied, turning around, and leaving them.

You stomped to the corner to have some dessert and another glass of lemonade. The burning, hot sensation in your body from movement and his skin's touch required it. The unspeakable, shameful things you’d let him do to you as well as the gentle, loving things. And not to look at them. Anything to keep you from looking. You even turned around a chair for two dances and kept your face focused on the wall.

You then danced with one more bloke. Then another. Just to wash Nicholls from you and invite men to call for tea. And to end the night on a good note. Especially about how he was the best partner. How you could still feel the touch his hand burned onto you in the morning.

Summer- 1914

It was such a nice, sunny Friday all that afternoon. Perfect weather. But out the shop window, there were dark clouds. Thunder boomed ominously as your shift reached its last hour.

Returning home, you walked at a quick pace. The bright sun contrasted with the darkening clouds. There were some sheep in the middle of the path. You waved your arms and shooed them off. As you hurried towards your farm up the hill, it started raining. As you walked in, you saw your own parents inside for shelter.

“Where’s Albie?” you asked.

“Out riding!” your mother answered.

The rain turned to torrents. Lightning reached like a large, terrifying finger right through the clouds. It beat against the house in a never-ending fury. The rain broke through the roof and opened the windows. Gusts burst the door open.

Albert arrived, his shirt, boots, and overalls were drenched. Dad got out a tall pole to adjust the roof, so water didn’t break out. You and your mother went about to close and secure windows that the gusts blew open. Running upstairs, you saw that each of your rooms had some rain from the open windows. You shut them closed and secured them. But the rainfall punched against it, like a burglar insisting on getting in. Downstairs, you even saw that the Goose had broken into the house, shaking his white feathers dry.

“Shoo, Harold, shoo!” Mum scolded, pushing him aside.

But the defiant Goose honked in protest and went to a corner to tuck himself in for the night.

It was hard not to shake like a child at the sound of the thunder. It rattled the house when it boomed. But eventually, you managed to crash to sleep. Glad that Dad managed to seal the hole allowing your room to remain dry. In fact, as you lulled, the rain was beginning to sound peaceful.

The next morning, you discovered that the peace of the rain was only in its sound. The bottom field was flooded. You and your family drudged around, the muddy water up to your ankles, trying to save what turnips you could. Only a meager few in the whole field survived. But it was all a muddy, destroyed mess. It would be too late to begin to plant something else.

Albert ran off to check the rest of the farm. You and Dad sat by the fire. Mum fixed all a cup of tea, blankets wrapped around you. Dad only looked sadly into the hearth.

“I know what I can do. I’ll talk to Mrs. Snow. Ask for longer hours. I’ll work earlier or later. Or both. Whatever I must do…” you promised them.

But that Monday, Mrs. Snow said flatly that you were working the maximum hours. And that there wasn’t any need for early or late work.

It was that Friday you hurried home, your paycheck in your basket. Thank goodness it was pay week! With that, it would cover part of the rent. You would do it. You would gladly give every guinea. What need did you have for dance tickets or other indulgences now? If it gave everyone (including yourself) peace of mind, if Dad stopped drinking and staring into space with tears in his eyes, you’d do it. The choice was made when you first got the job! Even if it couldn’t cover all the rent, it was something! Then, you’d scrap up the turnip sales and rely on the animals. Yes, dinners would shrink. But your family would keep the house!

But you noticed a shiny red motorcar parked right outside. As you walked into the front yard, Albert was pacing about. Mum was trying to feed the chickens, pouring feed out from her apron.

“How long have you been out here?” you asked.

“About a half hour,” Mum answered.

“Where’s Dad, what’s going on? What’s Lyons doing here?” you asked.

As if in answer, the door opened. Out walked your father and Lyons. Albert took a step forward, then his steps froze. Mum glared at Lyons, her face red.

“Y/N, come on in the kitchen,” your father urged.

Today was not the Fifteenth. Not the usual day for paying the rent. His son and servants were nowhere in sight. Why you and not your mother and brother too?

“Mr. Narracott, may I have your permission to speak in private with your daughter?” he asked.

The answer hit you.

Terror gripped you. Nausea soured your stomach, and your legs and hands were shaking uncontrollably. You felt as if you could get sick in the yard. Or as if you could faint. You wished you could faint. Just so you could black out, and escape into nothingness. Then awaken in your room to a new day with nothing expected other than the usual. But no, you were in your body. You folded your hands.

“Yes sir, you can talk to her.”

Your father looked up at you. His eyes had both sadness and hope inside them. You clutched at his shoulder, urging him to stay. Stay with you. Don’t leave me, don’t leave me, please don’t leave me. He can talk with both of us, please.

“We’ll be right outside, my girl. He said he won’t talk long,” He said. He then put your hands down, walked outside, and closed the door, leaving you alone with Mr. Lyons.

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itzcherrybonbon · 1 year ago

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Hello everyone,

If KOSA does end up passing, because I am not entirely sure, I'm talking to my friend and he's assuring me it won't happen, but I'm still scared and on edge..

Anywho, if that goddamn bill ends up passing, I want you all to know you're dear to me. Being in Tumblr has been a great journey, and all of you are amazing.

@candied-skulls-and-licorice, @sourpatchfr, @angel-beloved, @nightskymyth, @anotherrosesthatfell, thank you for putting up with me and for being like a real family to me, I love you guys. I am grateful we met, it was a pleasure to get to know you. I love you so so much, and if I could I'd crawl through your screens and give you all big hugs. If this bill gets passed we won't be able to see eachother again, but..I'll do my best to hold on for you all. Thank you for the good memories, thank you for making my day talking about our characters, thank you for the lovely roleplays and for putting up with me at certain times. I love you, and I will forever appreciate you. You guys are my real family. I'm glad I managed to be there for you, I will miss you all dearly..Maybe one day we'll be able to see eachother again. Stay strong for me stars, Cherry loves you

@fandomsoda, @koshka-in-the-corner, @sunnymainecoon You guys are gems, bright stars even. I enjoyed drawing North and Spook in Magma with you Sunny, I wouldn't stop laughing from how silly we were. Koshka, I enjoyed our roleplays with Neri and Rev, and your company is very appreciated. Soda, I appreciate how we were almost on the same wavelength about things. It was really nice knowing you

@nyx-mrbones-2360 We haven't talked in a while, but I still remember when we used to talk about Tex and Krono and how fun it was making this ship. You're awesome and neat

@thvnderhashira It was fun talking to you for even brief moments, I will never forget your Cross fanarts, or Mauve. Thank you for being so sweet, I really appreciate you

@nithmere Thank you for the memes Psina, your art was always really lovely and a sight for my eyes. Thank you for everything, you're a gem.

@not3nergy-spirit Thanks for the lovely art, and for the sweet words that day! I've always loved your artstyle, keep being you! I appreciate you a lot

@cool-persom Thank you for your amazing art, I will always cherish it! Mersia was a neat character, and I loved her motherly attitude towards Arti. I will never forget the first time we met, your compliments made me laugh a lot. Thanks for being chaotic with me! Ilysm bestie

@shadow-5065 Long time no see but, I remember how we used to interact in my early days in Tumblr. I'm sorry for not checking in on you and starting some sort of conversation myself but..I still really appreciate you. I think you're funny and neat, thanks for supporting me back then <3

@eventide-roses I think you're an amazing person, keep being you! It was nice talking to you for that brief moment. Thanks for being a better mother figure to Angel than I could ever have been, I really appreciate you

@joficeandwind Hope you're doing okay, sorry for not starting some sort of conversation in the dms. I wanna say thank you for treating Angel so nicely, you deserve only the best. It was nice talking to you that day

And to all the people who have followed me, thank you for the support so far. I love you, and stay strong. They won't continue crushing us under their boots for long, in the end our rights will always be valid and they can never change that.

#cherry rambles #a final goodbye in case kosa ends up getting passed #thank you everyone #i really love and appreciate every single one of you #stay strong and keep going

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crowholtz · 2 years ago

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I want to hear more about the other NPCs in your CoS campaign! I stumbled across your Doru bio and I was baffled by how wildly different he is in your campaign vs the one I'm in. It's always so cool to learn about different adaptations of characters!

OMG I am so glad you asked

Okay I'm gonna touch my faves! Obviously spoilers for the campaign~

First up we have Escher. I love what my DM did with Escher! He's a genderfluid shapeshifter (though his main 'true' form is elven) from Waterdeep that Strahd brought to Barovia through the mists. His personality often gives me like... Double Trouble vibes from She-Ra. He's very fruity eheheh. He's an empath - literally, he has the ability to sense people's emotions when he touches them (all the True Vampires in our campaign have a Special Ability). He's a bit of a whore. he's actually a ripper (my dm sorta borrowed this term from the vampire diaries in which some vampires are just more violent and hungry than others) and was pretty bad when he first became a vampire, but he redirected his bloodlust more into sex and drugs. very Dionysian. He's very decadent and selfish, but he also does have a good capacity to care thanks to not being able to turn his empathy off, and he uses his ability to please others and be what they want him to be. He also in his mortal life had a degree in psychology from the University of Waterdeep, and is quite smart and good at reading people and their issues, though he likes to pretend he's a useless bimbo. He's currently traveling with the party because he's worried about Strahd....

Another favorite of mine is Vasili von Holtz. He's actually the reincarnation of Strahd's mortal soul in my campaign instead of just being his alter ego. Strahd thought Vasili was the reincarnation of Sergei for a while, and put Vasili through a lot of tests and trauma when he was a teenager 30 years ago to see if he'd react to situations in the way Sergei would. When he didn't, Strahd was always disappointed with Vasili. The irony being, Vasili made the decisions Strahd would have made since he has his soul, and that's what Strahd hated. Strahd essentially tortured himself and he doesn't even know. Vasili is 45 years old now, a lovable rogue, kinda scrungly. He's charming and cunning, but good. My party put him in charge of Vallaki in the form of running a council with father Lucian, Lady Wachter, and Anastrasya. He's got a bit of a drinking problem, but he wants to do good by the people. Much like Strahd, he has the mentality of "no one can do it but me. It has to be me." My character Helene is romancing him. And Strahd. It's very messy.

I have more, but I don't want this to get too long, so if you are interested in hearing about more pls send another ask ^^ my DM has made all the characters in this campaign so multifaceted and complex and interesting. Strahd is honestly my favorite -- he took his character and crafted him into such a fascinating villain and plays him really well. But god, going into Strahd's psyche and story would take a whole ass post.

I'm also gonna put more info about Doru too under a read more just to give more context to his personality!

My DM didn't honestly plan on Doru being in the campaign -- he figured he would die or remain trapped, as he often is in CoS.

In my DM's canon, Doru was a soft spoken young man romanced by Strahd and Doru agreed to become one of his brides. Doru insisted however, that during the turning process he remain close by the church in the village and his father so he could prove that even after turning into a vampire he was still himself. Doru requested Strahd not be there bc he knew Strahd's presence would spook his father. Strahd acquiesced to his request. Unfortunately in the transition, Doru's father and many of the villagers became distressed, outraged, tried holding him down to try to basically "exorcise" him. Doru's ripper instinct activated (yeah unfortunately Doru got the ripper trait) and he slaughtered and drained some of the villagers present. Donovich managed to get Doru into the basement of the church where he stayed for 10 years, though Donovich announced that Doru was dead. Strahd mourned him.

So when we managed to save Doru with a wand of polymorph (which we can thank @gothoctopus for thinking of using), it changed his creature type and therefore he could leave the consecration of the church! Then I had my character Helene "pray to her god" so she could contact Strahd when he intercepted the prayer, and she let him know that Doru was actually alive and that we rescued him. Strahd was shocked Doru was alive, and Helene had to talk him down from doing something drastic to the people of Barovia village. He was grateful, and sent down a carriage to put bunny Doru in so it could take him back to Castle Ravenloft. Strahd said that he now owed the party one favor (which Helene used in the bones of st. andral incident to make him leave us and Ireena alone for the time being).

Anyway, Doru took some time to heal at the castle. Mentally he was not doing great, and he's still trying to heal, but he is much better now. He bonded with Rahadin, who took care of him. Doru is still a faithful follower of the morninglord, which has manifested in an ability to still use radiant/healing magic despite being undead. (My DM gave all the True Vampires special abilities. Escher, for example, is an empath and can sense others emotions when he touches them!)

Doru is soft-spoken, sassy, smart, and generally wants to be a good person. His vampiric tendencies get in the way of that though, especially with his underlying bloodlust that he has to keep in check. He's always itching for a fight, but suppresses it. He's also autistic and is very cute when he infodumps :D

#curse of strahd #curse of strahd spoilers #cos blogging #escher #vasili von holtz #strahd von zarovich #doru

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petalpierrot · 1 year ago

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Festival Updates Part 3

Honestly, a lot happened this session - more under the cut

So last time we left off with Eidys watching Rahadin preparing to bake in the baking competition.

He seems to be in a friendly rivalry with this other woman, Dorina and honestly, it was really fun to watch them interact

Dorina was making a Strawberry and Rhubarb pie

Rahadin opted for a Blueberry and Lavender pie (if you know you know)

I'm cutting out a lot of the banter but both of them were making friendly comments and it was nice to see Rahadin interacting with people normally. It made Eidys very happy to see him having fun.

He ended up winning first place, and Dorina second, there was one contestant who just rolled a straight 1 so I imagine everything that could go wrong, went wrong.

Eidys did not start a riot.

Eidys claps for Rahadin and gets weird looks directed at her as people don't understand why she would cheer for the Chamberlain. Eidys doesn't care. She is proud of him and thinks he did extremely well.

Eidys gives Rahadin a little wave

I just need to provide visual evidence because oh my god this was the funniest score to get. So yes Rahadin spots her and gives her a small smile and a returned wave.

Rahadin will stick around his station, to make sure people only get a single slice of pie and clean his equipment. Eidys decides to move on so as to not distract him from his tasks.

When Eidys rejoins the party they move to other attractions.

Veshen tries himself with the hammer and bell, he misses twice but manages to hit once, winning a fancy mask that he gifts to Ireena.

Ireena wants to return the favor for the boys by winning them gifts as well.

Ireena wins Veshen some fancy white gloves.

Ireena apologizes to Dris for hitting only once and not being able to get him anything this round.

Dris assures her that it is fine and she shouldn't feel obligated to get him something. (this man is difficult when it comes to receiving gifts)

After that, they hear of a horse race, and both Dris and Ireena think it could be fun to join, so they sign up.

Dris bonds very well with a Black Stallion named Skylark and Ireena with a grey Appaloosa named Rowdy.

They both do very well against their competition. Ireena won first place and Dris won second, though Dris was in the lead for most of the checks. Ireena wins a bottle of the fabled Red Dragon Crush. and Dris wins an elven insignia of a lost legionnaire.

Ireena mentions that something spooked her horse after the race. (I'm sure this is fine)

Ireena wants to gift the wine to Dris (because he is a big wine drinker) but instead opts to ask him to share the wine with her sometime to which he agrees.

DM: they have a wine date now possibly.

Eidys joins a dancing competition next, she is very fond of dancing and thinks it could be fun. She doesn't really have a partner so, what my DM described as "Dracula from Bram Stoker's Dracula when he was in London" dressed man approaches her and asks to be her partner for this dance to which she agrees.

Though she also spots Rahadin who is eyeing this man who asked her to dance.

But anyway, this man introduces himself as Sergei Belview (I wonder who this man could be surely it's not who we think he is)

Me jokingly: The only other name he knows aside from Vasili and his own.

Rahadin is looking very unhappy and is glaring daggers at this Sergei fella

Rahadin pairs off with another partner (looking like 2005 Mr. Darcy just, completely miserable)

His deathly choir ability going off a little bit (in our campaign it goes off when he's getting angry - so yeah he was getting angry at this stranger)

Eidys was popping off in the dancing competition.

"Sergei" was also keeping up with her very well. Literally got the same score as her.

Everyone is popping off

The first round ends with that.

"Sergei" tells Eidys that "she dances as lovely as she looks" with a small bow

Eidys tells him that he is also a very good dancer

Rahadin doing well keeping his anger in check

Rahadin thanks his partner and dismisses himself politely as he is making his way to Eidys.

Eidys smiles when he catches up to her and greets him politely

Rahadin asks her to the upcoming dance. He is eyeing this "Sergei" suspiciously he will add "If it is alright with your partner"

Eidys agrees to dance with him gladly. She is almost dismissive of the permission.

Sergei tells them that he would not deny the lady and flashes a little smile toward Rahadin (I was screaming internally)

Rahadin is still keeping it together but there are cracks in his facade as faint whisps of the choir are heard.

Eidys isn't completely sure where it's coming from so she is not frightened but she will look between the two men and tells Rahadin that they should get ready to distract him from his distaste for the man.

In the second round, Eidys and Rahadin get about a 13 dex/performance, they are both perturbed by the bad vibes "Sergei" has left

Rahadin apologizes for his behavior saying that he doesn't like how Sergei was looking at her

Eidys tells him that it is alright and that she just didn't want there to be a conflict

Eidys asks him if he also likes dancing Rahadin replies that it's not something he goes out of his way for and only when he has an agreeable partner.

he mentions that not a lot of events take place at the castle

Eidys says that if Strahd was a bit nicer maybe others would actually enjoy events at the castle. She also comments that he is probably the one burdened with organizing such events

Rahadin does say it is a burden to bear when it does happen

Eidys tells him that she hopes he doesn't find them being invited to the castle a burden

Rahadin promises her that he does not and that he hopes she will enjoy herself when the time does come.

Eidys says that yes, it should be a bit more enjoyable since she will not be alone

I'm crying, you guys

Rahadin and Eidys won the dancing competition.

She wins a pyramid of black incense and a 1-pound egg with a bright red shell (that we agreed on being a fossilized dragon's egg)

Mother of Dragons jokes ensued.

that's where we ended the session

#Baking rahadin gave me so much serotonin #also dancing Rahadin gave me even more serotonin #also STRAHD MIGHT BE ONTO THEM. WHICH IS CONCERNING.#curse of strahd #alek rambles #dris being a horse girl in this one #dris participating in a RACE !!#*screams*

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ghostbrawl · 10 months ago

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sent the 🐯 - nono the thing is i do know you!! youre not a stranger im just... sometimes i get spooked off, from interacting so much. because sometimes i think people just hate me and only keep me around as to not make me upset :( and thats got nothin to do with you, you didnt do anything wrong. its me with my stupid thoughts and shit. i think youre really cool and i love your art and style and you seem so confident and dont give a shit about a lot of things. im intimidated by that

tried to answer this one privately and realized i couldn't because its an anon ask haha .. welp! i still want you to hear my input on this one so it's just going to be no reblog.

i'm going to put my response under the cut though for the sake of people's dashboards and because it's somewhat mushy. continue if you dare, followers - i'll be talking in depth about, like, emotions an shit.

so i sat on this ask for a while and really rolled it around my enclosure a little bit. full disclosure i need to just say for a long time i also felt this way - by that i mean feeling as though [people just hate me and only keep me around as to not make me upset] - for various reasons.

one reason was that i had experienced real world examples of this sort of coddling many times - people online and in real life would often entertain me to my face and talk about me behind my back, mostly until i got too annoying to bear and was openly lashed out at or shunned. most of these incidents occurred when i was 16 or younger, to be fair, but they did make a mark on me.

another reason was just anxiety - if i didn't know exactly what the people around me thought, it would be safe to say those thoughts were bad. it would've verified what i thought about myself- and assuming those people already hated me allowed me to empathize with the versions of my loved ones that i created in my head. i often mourned the fact that they had to deal with me before i even knew whether they were annoyed or not.

these were the two main reasons why i often felt like people hated me, but i'm sure there were more.

i don't have an EXACT read on who you are anon, though i feel like i have an idea (you don't have to tell me, but if you'd like, reach out and send me a dm) - but personally, if we know each other, and i've not yelled at you or blocked you or told you not to talk to me, there's an incredibly decent chance (99%) that i neither hate you nor think you're annoying.

if you're my next door neighbor from two years ago, i take that back. but if you aren't, keep reading!

other than in my deepest darkest worst moments, i've pretty much trained myself out of the kneejerk assumption that my friends and loved ones hate me. i'll try not to sound preachy when i talk about why, but trust me when i say i have a point here in talking about it.

anyway - here's how i stopped doing that.

#1 - i started to model my own understandings of people's attitudes toward others based on my own attitudes.

ok i know that sounds weird or isn't very easy to understand so let me just give an example.

a technique i used a lot was just thinking through how, when, and why i liked or loved my friends. i loved my friends because they have similar interests to me, because of the history we had together, because it was easy to communicate with them, because i loved their minds and ideas, because they enriched my life (even when i didn't talk to them as much), because i was excited to hear from them + learn about their life, because i cared about them and didn't want to see them sick or hurt, because they were fun to hang out with, etc. etc etc.

then, i'd think about how i felt when one of my friends messed up, was irritating, annoying, or made me angry in some way. depending on how egregious the ill was, i reacted anywhere from pretty much none at all (for most irritations or annoyances) - to 'angry in the moment, it fades later' (for high stress situations in which i had no excuses for that friend) - to 'we seriously need to work this out' (for ongoing situations in which i was building up the strength to address).

most of the time, the irritations i encountered fell into the first category. many times i couldn't even be annoyed - i loved those friends so much that it didn't even matter, either in the very second the irritation happened or in the grand scheme of things.

in the few moments that i encountered more grave irritations such as those in the last category, what usually would happen is either that me and the other person sorted out our grievances and both agreed to change our behavior, or we parted ways.... and many of the friends i parted ways with i found wanting their company again and reconnected with them.

in evaluating myself in the context of my friends, though i can never know how, when, or why my friends love me, i know for relative certainty that when i am irritating or annoying to them, it is incidental and fades just as quickly for them as it fades for me. my friends will never be as concerned with my small flaws and ills as i am - it simply doesn't affect them nearly as much as it affects me.

^ this idea is doubly true for acquaintances and people you don't know as well as to say "friends" -- at the acquaintance level people can choose whether to get closer or to drift, factoring in time, interest, hyperfixation, location, their jobs, etc.

but this first technique only worked when i had the self-esteem to internalize the fact that other people's inner worlds were both just as complex as mine (holding complex feelings about oneself and each other) and just as simple as mine (annoyed or not? and for how long? etc)!

so another thing that really helped me was

#2 - faking confidence until i could build it properly.

i know everyone says this shit and it seems so ineffectual when it feels much more grounded and real to be cynical, to be anxious and upset with oneself.

and in many senses, it IS ineffectual - immediately. faking confidence is something that only works over years of doing it, and in faking your confidence you must also identify very real parts of yourself to be Actual Confident(tm) about and work toward feeling that way for real.

faking confidence is the sandbox where i, personally, found actual things to be proud of myself for within. when i faked confidence in my voice, way of thinking, my art, and my personality, i eventually found actual things to like in each of those aspects of myself based on how people reacted to that "front" of confidence i put up about those aspects of myself.

for a while i faced an awkward phase where my faked confidence was so intense that it manifested as arrogance and aggression toward others -- avoid this if you can . facepalm emoji.

but in presenting myself as somebody who was equal (or even greater) than other people in social situations i was in, other people pointed out things to be praised about me.

at first i'd be skeptical, but i'd keep it in the back of my mind. but over time, i'd see over and over the success of those parts of myself in social situations, artistic circles, athletic contexts, etc, and start to think "maybe i am good at [x]" or "maybe [personality trait] about me is helpful and cool", and on and on and on.

confidence and self-like is a process that builds on itself and gets easier over time. the second i began to question whether traits i had were really harmful or bad, the more i started to see reinforcing evidence of the contrary; of them being productive, healthy, interesting, worth having rather than destroying.

and the further you progress in this avenue, the easier it is to #not give a shit about things - or to respond less to attacks on the psyche or personality.

and when i reinforced + gained a respect for the parts of myself i once hated, it became easier to believe that others could admire me as much i admired them - that others could brush off my shortcomings as easily as i brushed off theirs.

recently, i hate to admit, i've had to start this process of loving myself all over again as i've started to experience a major personality shift brought on by gaining different + new responsibilities in my life. i respond differently to new circumstances so many times that i'm becoming somebody different - somebody i'm not yet prepared to love. somebody that i'm much more inclined to loathe, because i've seen the effects of my new personality traits on myself and others; not in observing my own actions, but in observing the actions of people in my life with the same personality traits such as my family.

so for now my confidence in a lot of situations is much shakier than it used to be - but the foundations i created back when are still there. when i don't believe in myself or punch down on myself i can keep it relatively contained internally and not project it onto others - or if i can't avoid projecting it, i at least understand on some level that i'm being unreasonable... and i can still keep that outward confident look pretty seamlessly while working out new insecurities from within.

trust me - i give a lot of shits, and so does every other confident person you know. we just keep it to ourselves - not to say that keeping it to oneself is inherently better, but it just helps to keep oneself from spiraling into deeper and deeper self hatred. keeping that hate on the down-low keeps it from gaining significant power.

in terms of being intimidated by other confident people....

i have nothing really to say about that. i think it's something that both affirms and worries the confident person in question - to be intimidating is to be slick and cool and impenetrable. but to be intimidating is also to be impenetrable (/neg) - impossible to see the inner life of through that glare of coolness or confidence. i guess its a double edged sword, i dunno.

but i think it gets easier to see even the intimidatingly cool as dorky, regular people when you recognize that pretty much everyone has or had crappy self image at one point. people are less intimidating when you allow the idea that they too, are people who fuck up, who go through things, who break down, who hate themselves, and who are just trying their best to seem like somebody lovable and worthwhile. and do that in order to CHASE interactions with others - and that wanting those interactions doesn't reflect badly on you or them.

but idk. i get it if u don't wanna read all that.

TLDR: ur thoughts aren't stupid and we've all been there. and i'm just some tumblr user on the internet it's really not so serious or scary. i post incessantly about robot sex and wizards instead of getting groceries. and everyone is just as stupid and dorky as the worst person you know and that's totally fine.

#may archive or private or delete this post once i feel like the anon in question has seen this - sorry for the MASSIVE fucking post.

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