#fair warning this is VERY long hence the read more

[fanfic-inator795]

WoY: A Decade Later (A personal retrospection)

Wander Over Yonder… for a time, it was - in my opinion - the best cartoon ever. It was my number one, and I wasn't sure that anything else could top it. While I don't necessarily feel the same way these days, it's still a cartoon that very much lives in my heart and I don't think I'll ever truly leave it behind.

From a personal perspective, it was probably the biggest and most active Fandom I had been in at that time. It wasn't my first fandom/hyperfixation - prior to WoY, there had been Cartoon Network's Chowder and Regular Show, as well as Disney's Phineas and Ferb. But Chowder was short-lived and RS and PnF were both shows I had lost interest in due to them beginning to dip in quality.

WoY, however, was new, fresh, exciting and growing rapidly. It inspired me to write probably at least a hundred fanfics. It was a blast live-reacting to new episodes with everyone and seeing all the art that would come afterwards. It brought me into the RP scene and, if not for that, I might have never met my best friend of 10 years (and counting! Love you, Tessa).

Looking back on it 10 years after the fact, I can't fully say that WoY is still my favorite cartoon (shows like Kid Cosmic, The Ghost and Molly McGee, Big City Greens and Craig of the Creek have all outshined it in one way or another), nor can I claim that it is/was a perfect show. But man… It sure was a hell of a ride.

(Keep reading for all my admittedly VERY LONG personal thoughts or opinions regarding this one of a kind show)

Humble Beginnings

Pretty sure I've mentioned this before, but I actually didn't care for WoY at first. It was the summer right before college, and I remember watching the sneak peek - The Picnic - early one morning after not being able to go back to sleep. I remember not really laughing much or even seeing the appeal… and yet the episode stuck in my mind, to the point that I ended up watching it again during a free moment I had from Freshman Orientation Week. I had a similar reaction to the show's proper pilot, The Greatest - not loving it, but not hating it either.

The fact that people/friends from my RS and PnF days were also posting about it helped keep the show in my mind (shoutout to Taylor, Erin and Darkwing). But it wasn't until two specific episodes - The Fugitives and The Good Deed - that I managed to finally start to connect with the characters myself. 

I started to see the appeal in this little furry orange spoon who just wanted to do good and make others happy, even when it was a struggle. I really liked the show's core theme of not just optimism and positivity, but also just being kind. I also started to really enjoy the show's sci-fi and space aesthetic and grew to adore its animation and gorgeous backgrounds, as well as laugh at its wacky sense of humor (I still laugh at The Fugitives/Good Deed quite a bit, even though I probably have their entire scripts memorized at this point).

So, it was official. I was hooked. Whenever there were new eps, I'd either try to watch them on the basement TV in my college dorm or wait for a livestream or FreeCartoonsOnline upload. If we're being honest, the first half of season 1, while being much more low-key than the wackiness that the show would end up eventually shifting to, was probably when it was at its most consistent. Other eps later on would reach higher highs, but getting stuff like The Bad Guy, the Prisoner, the Troll, the Pet, the Box and The Little Guy back-to-back just made my love for the show grow more and more.

The Little Guy specifically is one that is just incredibly well-crafted in its dialogue, story-telling and pacing, being both enjoyable and heartfelt. (Also the last time I watched it the ending made me bawl so, there's that, lol). Shortly afterwards, The Hero was another ep that I distinctly remember sticking in my head for whatever reason (Dracor and Demurra are still adorable, ngl). Then we had another favorite of mine, The Nice Guy.

I know I may be in the minority on this one - I remember my parents being annoyed and frustrated when they watched it with me, haha - but I absolutely love this episode. I find the jokes funny enough - the cashier is one of my favorite minor characters tbh - and the space gas station appeals to my aesthetic. But what really sells this episode for me is how it handles and portrays its moral of "being nice isn't always easy, but it's still right and still worth doing". Its ending never fails to get an "awwww" out of me, and honestly I could probably go on for an hour about all the little details and things I like/appreciate. I've also grown to really like its sister episode, the Time Bomb.

But no show is perfect, and right around here is where the show, in my opinion, started having some misses. It was mostly just "meh" affairs like The Night, The Toddler and The Big Job (weird, since I usually like heist eps… though I haven't rewatched this one in a while so *shrugs*). Other eps like The Tourist and ESPECIALLY The Helper (which I consider to be the show's worst outing, the vibes are just SO WEIRD on this one) I just didn't care for at all. 

Nothing terrible (save for the Helper), just cases of the jokes not landing or the stories being boring. This was also when the show really started leaning into the wackiness - which wasn't BAD persay, since it led to some really funny jokes and memorable moments when it was used well - it's just that looking back, I sorta miss the simplicity of early s1.

Thankfully, the season put out some real bangers by its end, with my personal faves being The Epic Quest (that ending will never not make me cackle. Again, it's a case of the wackiness actually working incredibly well), the Halloween/Christmas special, and the Rider, which is a great adventure to cap off the season and also the Horse from Horsin’ Around guest stars in it! (and does a pretty good job too. Will Arnett is def one of my favorite celeb VAs at this point, ngl)

So yeah, between the two seasons, s1 is easily my favorite. Call it nostalgia or personal taste, but for me it's all about that consistency. Adding in the fact that s2 has some pretty notable flaws and is thus a lot harder to look back on without noticing those flaws, and it's really no contest for me. 

New season, New problems

I certainly remember the excitement - as well as the fandom's stir craziness - in the lead-up to s2. There were crackships that were invented, silly RP blogs were rampant, Craig McCracken and crew (back when they were still on Tumblr) kept us fed with cool behind the scenes info as well as sneak peeks of the new season, and while I can't recall when it specifically happened, I also vividly remember the 'Bad End to Episodes' phase that the fandom was in at one point. Ah, the joys of still being in your angst phase.

Come that year's Comic Con, and a new round of hype came from the reveal that our new villain of the season was going to be a girl! …yeahhh, it sorta sucks recalling how hyped we all were about Dominator now that we know that she didn't quite work out the way we were all hoping for…

But regardless, s2 had a very strong start. Outside of the premiere, my favorites of this first batch would easily be The Boy Wander and The It for both just being incredibly funny. Although, if you had asked me at the time though, I probably would have said the Skeleton Dance fueled eps that were The Big Day and the Fremergency Fronfract - and like, yeah those eps can still be funny and enjoyable, but I've definitely cooled on the Skeleton Dance ship since these eps first premiered. (Still love a lot of the cute fanon stuff though)

Skipping past the next tent-pole episode for right now, this season had two of my favorite episodes of the ENTIRE SERIES - these being The Cartoon and The Black Cube. The former is just hilarious while the latter has a unique visual presentation and feels like an early s1 ep, and I mean that in the best possible way. I also really enjoy the Eye on the Skullship as well as the Hole… 'Lotta Nuthin' (this one especially, as it's another instance where, for as good as the ep is as a whole, it's the heartwarming lesson and hilarious ending that makes it such a winner in my book).

But for as much as the show was still putting out hits, I'll admit that there were also quite a few meh or just okay eps, especially as the season goes on. Some eps I found funny when I first watched them, but that humor doesn't hit as well when I watch them now. I also feel like there were points where it tried to be TOO silly to the point where it inhibited the actual humor and made the characters flatter and a bit flanderized compared to how they were in s1 (Hater especially got hit bad with this, where it’s less about him ‘softening up’ to show that he has the potential to be a good guy, and more just him constantly leaning into him being a bratty teenager instead of having that mix of dumb/bratty teen boy and legit evil conqueror).

Other times, it was just another case of a story not being as good as it could have been - and by this point in the season, while there are still enjoyable eps with fun concepts/jokes in the latter half of the series, the only one to get near the peak of the show's typical high quality is the musical ep, and if we're being real, it's Andy Bean's impeccable songwriting that saves this ep and makes it so good to rewatch despite its connection to the season's flawed overall story.

And I think it's about time we talk about that…

Not Quite Ready for Serialization

Being a show that was made right after Gravity Falls but before stuff like Star VS, Amphibia, and Owl House, s2 of WoY felt like a show with one foot stuck in episodic stuff and one foot trying to step into serialization. Because of this, the season’s overarching plot feels incredibly underbaked.

Now… Am I saying that I’d want the show to be like ATLA where every episode had to relate back to either the overarching story or one of the side-arcs? No, absolutely not. We’d be missing out on some of my favorite one-shot episodes if they did that, and if I had to choose between the season we have now and the season we could have gotten had the WoY crew gotten more freedom and were allowed more serialization, I’m going with the former each and every time.

HOWEVER, I still have to acknowledge just how poorly done the structure of this season was when it came to the overarching story. Basically we got four tentpole episodes acting as the season’s beginning, arc shifts and ending. During the season’s second and third arcs, there would be certain episodes afterwards reacting to the change in the show’s status quo.

Now, I get what they were TRYING to do but in my opinion it just really didn’t work as well as it could have. I’ll talk more about this in a bit but the season’s second arc (the “romance” arc) definitely got tiring after a while, meanwhile the third “Stop Dominator” arc felt like it was sort of killing time given that it was mostly just the main 4 trying to find some sort of weapon/figure out some sort of plan that ultimately resulted in some ‘funny’ failures and some quick lessons, with the occasional character piece thrown in here or there.

Now, I didn’t hate these episodes. By this point, it should be evident that one of my favorite elements of WoY are its morals and lessons, so even if the episodes themselves didn’t amount to much in the grand scheme of things and were essentially filler, I can at least appreciate a message like “being sad doesn’t mean you’ve given up hope” or “allowing yourself to laugh even in the dark times can help a ton”. So yeah, not completely pointless.

Unfortunately, even with a few bright spots here and there, the overarching plot of s2 still feels underbaked somewhat - and that’s ultimately because of the new character its focused around.

Dominator’s Dilemma

Okay, fess up. Whose idea was it to completely exclude Dominator from the first six episodes of the season (after the s2 premiere)? Because WOW does this decision backfire a lot. I don’t even like Dom that much and I can still acknowledge that she needed much more screen time and focus than she got.

I don’t know if this was to build up the ‘mystery’ surrounding her or because they wanted to get back in the groove of writing the main 4, but this was the crew’s first crucial mistake. Hell, in the first two episodes she plays an active role in, she’s nearly silent in both of them, only having her little fangirl rant in The Greater Hater and a small handful of lines in The Battle Royals. (Which, if I’m being honest, is still a really fun episode for 90% of it, having both great action and absolutely hilarious jokes that still make me laugh, but I get the ending of it making people sour on the episode as a whole.)

Again, it felt like trying to build up this artificial mystery surrounding her when it really wasn’t necessary. Dominator was meant to be a MAIN MEMBER of the cast! Yet I’m pretty sure Emperor Awesome got more significant screen time than her in the end!

Things got a teeny bit better as the show went on, with Dom at the very least getting more lines and more moments to be both badass and totally villainous, but she still felt more like a goal/obstacle than an actual character. I’m not sure if the writers MEANT to do this persay, or if it was just an accident.

Ultimately, it wasn’t until The Night Out when Dom finally got a spotlight episode… which was a little over 3/4ths of the way through the season. You could argue that she also got a bit of characterization in the musical episode, but it was really more emphasizing what we already knew or could infer about her. 

The Night Out, meanwhile, gives us something new - that she’s lonely - and we get a teeny hint of this again in The Robomechabotatron before being told outright in the series finale. Ultimately, it truly does feel like too little too late - especially when her secretly desiring friends just sorta feels like it’s aping off Hater’s secret motivations of wanting to be liked/admired and to have friends/people who love him for who he is.

So yeah, the crew completely dropped the ball on Dom’s characterization, using her as just a goal/threat/obstacle/etc. for nearly all of her appearances. Not only does it make Dom feel like a shallow character, but it also just feels unfair in general. Practically everything we know about Dom is for the sake of other characters.

She’s a test for Wander, an enemy/temporary love interest for Hater, an obstacle for our main four to overcome, and a threat to the characters we already love. Again, there’s nothing wrong with having a character that’s only meant to serve a purpose in the narrative, nor is there anything wrong with a character being shallowly evil… it’s just that the WoY crew hyped her up so much and claimed that she was a fifth main character (implying that she would get about as much development as the main four), so it just felt all the more disappointing when we didn’t get that. Add in her character design - a mix of goth/punk girl energy with Hartman Hips - and it does feel just a tad misogynistic.

There were things I liked about Dom - her cool lava powers and gadgets, her excitable personality, her villain spotlight moments, and her fun vocal performance provided by Noel Wells were all excellent. But unfortunately, these were all surface-level elements, and the crew just didn’t put in enough time to give her much else, essentially saving all her deeper character stuff for the never-made season 3…

A love-hate relationship (leaning towards hate)

Of course you can’t talk about Dom without discussing the season’s second arc, which many see as both a tumor on the plot and the absolute low point of the season. Admittedly when I was watching the season for the first time, I didn’t mind the romance arc all that much. I didn’t care if Dom was getting short-changed, I was too busy laughing at Hater falling all over himself like a dork and thought all the ‘critics’ of the arc were just focusing on the wrong thing and didn’t know how to have fun with a silly cartoon.

Obviously, this was the wrong perspective to have about this sort of thing (I was in the mindset of “I don’t want to accidentally make myself hate this thing I love so I’m going to ignore all criticism of it”. Definitely not the right approach), one that I still apologize for because the critics were totally in the right. From both an objective and a storytelling standpoint, this arc was just the worst - and for several reasons.

Leaning into the overall problem with Dom herself as mentioned previously, this arc was focused solely on Hater and Wander (and to an extent Syl and Peeps as they tried to talk some sense into their respective friends). Whenever Dom was brought in, she either used Hater’s crush to mess with him or just ignored it entirely, being obviously annoyed - and that was the extent of focus that her feelings got.

Outside of those moments, however, Dom’s feelings are relegated to the background, deemed as ‘unimportant’. Sure, in the climax of the arc, she gets this big whole musical number about how she’s “not the damsel” and isn’t interested in Hater’s affections - but again, it’s at the VERY END of the arc and the moment is less about Dom standing up for herself and more about emphasizing just how cruel she can be, as instead of simply rejecting Hater’s advances, she laughs in his face, continuing to mess with him to try and make the rejection as painful as possible before ultimately trying to kill Hater.

But while the arc ends in a showy (and admittedly still kinda fun, thank you Andy Bean and your musical talents) way, the way it starts sorta proves why this idea was so rotten to the core. The ONLY reason why Wander tries to get Hater and Dom together is ONLY because he knows Hater wants a GF and believes that a ‘positive’ thing like love could only ever result in the two villains finding happiness and no longer being evil. Nevermind the fact that Wander is shown only really caring about Hater’s perspective, not once considering Dom’s feelings or even asking if she wants a BF or romantic partner in general.

We get Syl calling him out on this a couple of times, but it’s in that ‘oh that Wander, always with the crazy ideas’ way. You’d think Sylvia, the icon that she is, would be just a bit more blunt and maybe even a bit harsh about how Wander’s treating Dominator - it’s not just a matter of it being a dumb and dangerous plan, but it’s essentially objectifying Dom, treating her like Hater’s missing piece. But hey, it’s fiiiiine, because Wander learns his lesson in the end, right? Except, no not really.

Because even when Wander FINALLY realizes this and feels guilty about causing so much trouble, Syl is more concerned with comforting Wander about it, because he TRIED to do what he thought was right and that “acknowledging you messed up is the first step towards making things right”. Like… yeah I guess but you could have let Wander actually acknowledge what he did was wrong and super messed up, focusing more on the personal aspect of how his whole romance scheme affected Dom AS WELL AS Hater (not JUST Hater) instead of how his scheme broke Hater’s heart and inadvertently made Dom more powerful.

(Also we see Wander shipping and actively pairing up the little Pikmin things in “The Sky Guy” soooooo no I don’t think he fully learned his lesson)

I also have to bring up how there are fans who view Dominator and her whole anti-love thing as aphobic. As someone who only recently figured out she was almost definitely aromantic, I’m certainly not the authority on this, but I can certainly understand the critiques.

What I THINK the WoY Crew was trying to go for was a ‘strong female villain who don’t need no man’, but between Dom constantly being described as ‘heartless’ and Peeps saying that he “doesn’t think she likes anybody” and her cruelty being turned up to 11 whenever someone expressed romantic feelings towards her, it does sorta imply “She can’t love and THAT’S why she’s a villainous monster” rather than simply “she’s a villainous monster”. And because we don’t get any real development or strong characterization with Dom, it’s hard to say where exactly her cruelty comes from, so it’s hard to really argue against these implications without simply inserting headcanons like “Dom is a lesbian”.

Now to be fair, I have seen some aromantics see Dom as good representation - I recall a month or so back when I saw people praising her after she was included in one of those Tumblr polls, with this one being focused on aromantic characters, saying that they liked how she didn’t sugarcoat her rejections and seeing her as this strong, cool, badass villainous who didn’t need romance. So yeah, obviously not every person who shares an identity is going to agree on representation and whether or not it's good, but considering all of Dom’s baggage and the inability to determine whether or not her heartlessness is the cause of her evil or simply a by-product of it, I personally feel like she’s just too messy of an example of a potential aro character.

(Honestly, Syl feels like a better example of an aromantic character to me, given that she and Ryder seemed just as platonic as she and Wander are, as well as her multiple rejections of Awesome and general disinterest/discomfort with romance. Buuut given that those latter examples are specifically with villains and thus it makes sense why she’d reject them regardless of her orientation, it’s still just a vibe/headcanon).

Before I close off this section, I do wanna acknowledge that beyond the potentially aphobic nature of Dominator, WoY’s LGBTQ+ rep isn’t nearly as great as I thought it was once upon a time as a young shipper. Some parts are still pretty okay, like Wander being coded as genderfluid/agender, but overall it still feels more like an old Looney Tunes cartoon than an episode of “The Owl House”, if you get what I’m saying.

In Craig’s defense, the man has never been all too interested in romance in his shows nor has he claimed otherwise - he either uses it as a joke while portraying it as a negative (see Ms.KeenexProf.Utonium, BlooxBerry or, obviously, DomxHater) or it’s a wholesome relationship that ultimately still stays in the background because it’s not all that important (see DracorxDemurra or Ramona and Carlos Flores from “Kid Cosmic”). 

BUT given that there were LGBTQ+ crew members working on the show in s2, such as N.D. Stevenson, as well as LGBTQ+ allies, it is a shame that no proper representation came of that. We got a whole episode where the joke was “oh, Wander and Hater are planning Wander’s execution like it’s a wedding”, an episode where Peeps and Hater essentially break up when Hater fires him, and an “I just can’t quit you” sort of moment from Peeps in the s2 finale when he goes all heart-eyed over Hater deciding to continue being a villain. That’s it, all jokes but nothing substantial. Even the show’s number one lesbian/wlw pairing of SylxDom got a quick Girls Night montage and one sweet moment between them, nothing else.

Again, it’s fine if you’re just looking for jokes, and yeah the WoY Crew never outright promised any romances… buuuut given how much they chose to lean into the Skeleton Dance and DeathGlare stuff while at the same time never outright confirming any of these characters as LGBTQ+ (they didn’t even have to make any ships canon, they just had to say whether or not Wander/Hater/Peeps were gay/bi/pan/etc), I’m not gonna invalidate people who feel just a bit queerbaited about the whole thing.

Bittersweet Goodbyes

As I said before, I was starting college when WoY first premiered. It’s the show that led me to my best friend and it’s the show that helped me through those first two years of college (easily the roughest part of college). It was a show that made me laugh and got me excited, even during the times where I was stressed out or worried. For all its flaws, it was one of the brightest lights in my life at that time.

So, needless to say, when I heard the show was canceled, I was devastated. I remember crying about it that night and even the day after, and I remember joining in as many online strategies as possible to try and get the show back, from letter writing to petition signing. Of course none of that worked, but as a bright side, going through this helped emotionally prepare me for the next time one of my favorite shows was suddenly canceled (looking at you Nickelodeon. Though considering how the RotTMNT movie turned out maaaaybe it was for the best…)

Honestly, for as much as I can look at the show through a critical lens nowadays and point out all the ways it could have been better, I think there will always be a small part of me that wishes we could have gotten some sort of continuation, whether it be through a special, a TV movie or a comic - or hell, I’d even take the plans for s3 leaking at this point. Now, given that the end of WoY brought about the creation of “Kid Cosmic”, I feel like this part has faded a bit, but I’m always gonna want closure on things like Hater’s arc as well as his origins given how much they were teased.

But that in itself is another critique I could give the show. Whether it be Wander facing a different type of threat that wasn’t just another villain, Hater’s transition into becoming a good guy, Peepers getting fed up with his boss and striking out on his own, or Dom’s true characterization that the crew kept insisting was there - the show simply saved a lot of it’s most interesting ideas for a potential Season 3. It was a gamble, and it was one they ultimately lost. It sucks, but it is what it is.

There’s a few more things I could critique about the show, such as its take on the idea of character redemption and Wander becoming a bit of a karma houdini that the show pretty much stopped calling out, and while these critiques are valid I feel like there are other fans who could do a better job talking about those points. But in the end, while season 2 was both a let down in some parts and a bit of a mess in others, I still feel like there were ultimately more good things to be found within the show than bad things.

It’s not a perfect show, far from it. Frankly, I don’t look down on anyone who fell out of love with this show or enjoyed s1 but hated s2. But for what it’s worth, the memories I got from the show are still ones I treasure, and episodes like “The Good Deed”, “The Little Guy”, “The Nice Guy”, “The Epic Quest”, “The Rider”, “The Boy Wander”, “The Black Cube”, “The Hole… Lotta’ Nuthin’” and “The Cartoon” are ones I still love to bits and will probably always love as I watch them over and over.

Disney Channel itself may not care all that much about this show these days save for an occasional rerun or a quick cameo in their Chibi-Verse shorts, but I’m always gonna remember it - for better and for worse. So here’s to 10 years, WoY. I may not always like you, but I still love you.

[wordbunch]

oh, how unreasonable [Halbrand]

LONG A/N: I hope yall have lots of fun and feels while reading this, and I am living for any comments and impressions ♡ if it is slight ooc, I really don't care. If you don't consider Halbrand a warning in itself, then the only warning I have is occasionally suggestive conversation.

❗️this is essentialy Halbrand x my OC Díorien (she), who is a half-elf with the other half of her roots unknown, but there are no physical descriptions - feel free to consider it a reader insert. The only extra bit of knowledge is that she can use fire magic (hence multiple fire references), she is more-less one of the elves but not fully, and is very much on the fence about who to side with. A girl is struggling

I wholeheartedly recommend these 2 songs for the mood ♡

“So it is true.” 

“What is?”

“That evil never sleeps?” Díorien’s face appeared in warm candlelight amid the dark room. Her eyes scanned the figure in front of her with equal parts disdain and intrigue.

“Ever so witty, my queen,” Halbrand cackled, positioned in front of the door of Díorien’s private chambers. “How could I sleep, knowing you are here, and not by my side in a realm of our own creation?”

Cautiously he began to approach her bed, thick darkness everywhere except for the cool glow of the moon through the large window above her headboard, and the candle in her hand she had lit seconds ago. Fitting. 

“What brings you here?” she inquired dryly, pretending with all her might that his presence in the dead of night wasn’t making her shiver from head to toe. Having just awoken abruptly, she needed a few moments to wrap her head around the situation and realize she was dressed only in a delicate, sheer nightgown with sheets bunched up around her waist and legs. Swallowing thickly, Díorien decided to just pretend she was dressed properly - however, she was convinced Halbrand could see right through her anyway. Somehow he was always able to. 

“What brings me here is…” he began, voice heavy with something inexplicable, “the fact that the most enchanting, strong, passionate woman in the world, does not want to partake in that world with me.”

“But how could I, Halbrand?” She defended herself, not fully convinced she stood behind her own words. The way his eyes pored over her vulnerable form in the candlelight pulled the very ground from beneath her feet. “Y-you want me to-”

“I want you to rule with me, I want you to be my other half, I want you to come with me somewhere you will be not cast aside, but worshipped.” All decorum aside, Halbrand sat on the edge of her bed, and he could see her swallow thickly. If he said that heat wasn’t overcoming his whole body in her presence, that would be a very transparent lie, since that usually was the effect that she had on him. And he knew that she knew about it very well. “They do not understand you. They do not drive you to grow greater, to aim for more - they do not see you the way that I see you, Díor.” He was sliding one hand slowly over the mattress towards Díorien’s hand which was tightly clutching the silky sheets. “I know how that feels, my starlight, because that is how they are to me as well. But not you. Not you. You know my mind like you have walked the very steps inside of it. And I - I see the greatness that burns within you, the flame that terrifies everyone else, except someone who has walked through fire before.” His voice was quiet and gruff, but with an edge of persistence.

“Halbrand-” she whispered, furrowed eyebrows reflecting her inner turmoil.

“When you say my name like that, I am willing to throw the rest of the world away and just live in you instead.” He interrupted her eagerly, but she cleared her throat, determined to continue.

but you’ve come to offer, i’m here to receive / your face is my gospel, your body my creed / bring me to your altar, drop me to my knees / the more i worship, the more i believe 

“You are asking me to betray my own kin-”

“And you would betray your own heart.”

His calloused hand found his way to her closed fist and wrapped around it. Had the windows not been open and graciously letting in a light breeze, Díorien would have combusted then and there. In spite of that, she allowed him to touch her. 

“Do I not make you feel better than any of them, my queen? Do I not make you feel euphoric, boundless? I find it hard to believe you have already forgotten how we relished in each other, away from any judgemental glare,” he pressed with a deceitful pout. His other hand found its way to her bare shoulder, his touch almost scathing in the crackling air.

“Even when I try to bury those memories, they come back all the stronger, and I tremble every time I feel the ghost of your lips on my body” she admitted earnestly, her eyes bearing a striking vulnerability. “I feel you even when I least wish to do so, but I do not believe you and your proposals and schemes.”

it’s not fair, oh, it’s not fair how much i love you / it’s not fair ‘cause you make me ache, you bastard

Halbrand sighed away a self-satisfied smile, composing himself before speaking up once again. “You would not be betraying any of them - I need you to establish a new order with me, I need you to save your beloved world with me. You would not be betraying anyone, quite the contrary, you would be their savior, and nobody would have any right to pass you any judgment.”

There were a few steady beats of silence, the only moving thing the meek, flickering flame of a single candle on the windowsill, and the light that it cast on all around it. 

“Do you speak of betrayal because you were conditioned to do so, or because you feel that way truly? You speak of your kin, but are they, really? What makes you anymore closely bound to any of them, than it does to me? Had you been so important to each other, you wouldn’t have been treated like some lesser-”

Díorien interrupted his barrage of questions before his voice could adopt an even more venomous tone than it just had.

“And what do you know of true feelings, of truth in any capacity?” She chuckled dryly, hoping to have finally caught him off guard. In that moment, the only perfectly true thing about her was the fact that she was holding onto her morality by a thread, weakening by the second. He knew too well exactly where to hit her, and how, and she was aware that she had entered a battle inevitably to be lost. 

“The way I feel with your hands on me is the only measure of truth I need. You are the very flame of my heart.” 

Whether her senses and sanity were failing, or was there something so genuine and frail in the way he delivered his confession, there was no way to tell. Their eyes met as an abundance of feelings grazed his facial expression. 

and if you asked me to, if you asked me, i would lose it all / like petals in a storm / ‘cause darling, i was born to press my head between your shoulder blades, at night when light is fading

The thread weakened to become next to nothing. Against her better judgment, Díorien reached out a warm hand to remove a stray curl that had fallen over Halbrand’s eyes. He himself was growing uncertain of what exactly he was holding onto. Perhaps it was just her existence, just her closeness, her overt ferocity and her inescapable radiance. He only knew he wanted more of it, all of it, until the end of all the ages of the world. 

“But if your plan for a newly established perfect harmony fails, what then, Halbrand?” Díorien’s tone was stiff yet hushed, but it was all false pretenses; those troubled eyes, unruly hair and towering height had broken through her guard one too many times already. She sat there, defeated, all but vibrating with things left unsaid, and the expectations of things yet to be heard. 

“We would still have one another,” he retorted with a pinch of desperation in his voice, and you would still have thousands… millions, under your merciful hand.” He touched her jawline, brushing over her lower lip with his thumb. “And me, merely a breath away from your lips.” Halbrand’s eyebrow twitched upwards ever so slightly; she would have missed it had she not been so familiar with almost all of his crevices and corners. “You would have tried saving the elves, saving Middle-earth, if that is necessary to still your conscience. But failure of my mission or not - in the end you still come out a winner. We do.” His hand found her trembling fingers, firmly bringing them to his lips, never ceasing to hold her gaze. 

“When you look at me like that,” she whispered, subconsciously leaning into his touch and toward his face, “I find myself failing to draw a single breath,” she finished shakily, mentally cursing herself for falling under his influence time and time again. Although she had aimed to hold her ground, she was walking a thin line between the right choice and the reckless one. But, oh, the reckless one had a smile which made her forget her own name, and the rasp in his voice drowned out even the sweetest elven melodies. She wasn’t walking a line - she was falling over it right into the strong arms of her ravishing, twisted enemy (or at least whom she was raised to believe was one). 

Halbrand offered her a devilish, partially relieved, grin as he pulled her onto his lap in one swift motion, twisted sheets and all; she drew in a sharp breath weaving both of her hands into his unruly hair. Forehead against forehead, they were now painfully aware of both of their strained breathing and the thrill that was palpable in the, until very recently still, air. Díorien eagerly renounced the last bits of her poise as soon as his face was buried in her tender neck, his beard deliciously scratching her skin. However, as soon as she let out a sweet breath of pleasure, Halbrand moved away to look into her face again.

“Is that a yes, my queen?” he whispered, looking up at her through his lashes, his hands firmly dug into her hips. 

“It is anything you want it to be, my king,” her answer was hurried, desperate, starving, merely a millisecond before she collided her lips with his. 

It didn’t take long before Halbrand maneuvered them so that he was hovering over the wide-eyed girl with fire inside her body and heart.  

“I think it is time I make you forget all those wretched little excuses you tried giving me, darling,” he murmured into her skin before hastily blowing out the candle.

oh, how, oh how unreasonable / how unreasonably in love i am with everything you do / i’ll spend my days so close to you / ‘cause if i’m stood here, then i’m stood here / and i’ll stand here / i’ll stand here with you.

♡♡♡

shoutout to my most beloved 💖💖💖 @queenmeriadoc @lady-of-imladris

and @entishramblings i know you're not a ROP girl, but perhaps the writing style will be right up your alley 🥰

[ronearoundblindly]

How does mermaid reader feel about Steve? Like what is her take on their relationship?

just fair warning if you keep writing I’m gonna keep asking questions lol.

I...don't know what happened with this, but it was kinda fun! (unedited, not long, no real warnings except, yeah, he's a human and you're a mermaid, semi-angsty fluff!!)

Steve Rogers x deep sea mermaid!Reader from Sun, Salt, and Shield

Steve is a novelty.

Originally, you just considered him a split-tail with a crown of morning sunlight and high-ocean eyes. Later on, you learned it's called 'hair,' but a closer translation based on how mermaids see it is a 'mane.' Steve has a golden mane--something no one in your species has--hence, you think of it as a crown.

You were caged when you first saw him. That made you assume certain things when Steve walked up to the Raft's tank. Even in near darkness, his mane is bright. No other person you've encountered so far has that.

You're curious, frankly, but on-guard as always.

When humans are deprived of sleep, they can hallucinate, and mermaids are no different. You thought he was a complete figment of your imagination until Stark interacted with him, until Steve stepped into the water and put pressure across your heart and hips. The push of his hand, forcing your head against his chest, could have made you howl in relief.

All you wanted was to rest, but something in the back of your mind also told you not to scare him.

Stark, you don't mind scaring, Chuck is right where he belongs, excreted out into the industrial filters beyond the wall of your tank, but Steve? He must be protected.

He sees you. He listens to you.

You did not thing surfacers could do that. Not really. Not nicely. All humans want to do is control and take, use and abuse. However, you aren't afraid of them. You absolutely can kill any one of them that gets closer than you'd like. They're fragile.

But the way Steve grips you? Maybe he's not so fragile...

English is freaking hard. You learn quite a bit from Tony and then practice with Steve. You can feel his patience but love earning his admiration more. You find yourself wanting him to be proud of you and your progress.

You love making Steve laugh. It takes so long to figure out how to amuse him.

Numbers are a pain in the ass to learn because they have a concept, a symbol, and a written word. That's the point Tony halts teaching you to read alongside the verbal language. You threw a fit. He threw a fit. He left in a huff to cool off. You shrieked for Steve to come back for hours.

Eventually, when Tony returns, you threaten to eat him, and he calls it quits for the day.

Tony knew you favored Steve Rogers from day one. He planned to use that knowledge--and to some lesser extent, he did--but soon Tony simply realizes making you happy makes Steve happy...plus you cooperate and become an ambassador of sorts in your home realm.

You keep learning for Steve, not for Stark.

Mermen are, in your experience, domineering and uninspired. Their immense size differential to mermaids is useful to the brute-force model of society deep in the ocean, but they are boring. Your father is not stupid though. Almost none of them are stupid. Simple-minded remains the best translation you can manage.

Steve fascinates you. His attention to detail, his open nature, and his empathy are entirely new to you.

Mermen don't hide their baser instincts, so they freely ogle and flocked toward the most physiologically attractive mermaids. No interest in what's beneath the surface, ironically. Very shallow.

That's not to say bonds aren't possible. They absolutely are. Bonding with a partner is secondary at best, an afterthought most often, and unnecessary at worst.

Yet again, Steve wins you on every level--he has a sharp mind and acknowledges yours, he challenges your development without critique, and, lastly, he's quite attractive for how small and smooth he is.

"Should've seen me before," he once mumbled after you explained all that as well as your vocabulary would allow.

You don't know what he meant by that.

Because a certain level of indifference is common in couplings of your species, you were quite alarmed, embarrassed, and uncomfortable with how deep your affection for Steve became. You know how other humans react to you, and it doesn't build much confidence that one of them could feel this way about you.

During these long, repeated hugs with Steve, you realize that it's not just curiosity, or the novelty of his existence, or interest in learning from him: you feel about Steve how others feel about their mates.

Not gonna lie: that's terrifying. You don't actually know if Steve reciprocates. Sure, he explains human couples in great detail, and he shows you some of what he means, but all that could be...part of teaching you.

Until Steve discusses kissing, you convinced yourself he could not possibly harbor romantic affection for you.

It's lips against something, he says, that's all. His lips can press anywhere and boom! you've been kissed. He illustrates by kissing the back of your hand, kissing your cheek, kissing your forehead.

By now, your face is cradled in his hands. You can hear his heart racing as he sits on the steps in your pool and leans toward your body. His high-ocean eyes are shadowed as he looks down your face, captivated by--

"--your beautiful lips," he says, gently pressing his atop yours.

It's difficult to describe why something so simple hits so dramatically in your mind. The golden-maned man, almost the strongest of his species, amongst the softest of yours, kisses you like he needs to learn you, like he needs your existence, like he's curious.

There's a phrase you hum at the back of your throat once he releases you and sits up, a dusty rose painting his neck and cheeks.

"Swim beside me."

The better translation to English would be "I love you," but you haven't learned that yet.

Thank you for asking!

A/N: why am I crying?????

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[rawbin-hsr]

Aventurine x reader

You die.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

TW: DEATH, heavy angst, gore, blood, kind of disturbing, a bomb explodes, derealisation/disassociation, graphic, I'll be so honest this fic is kind of fucked up

Lmk if I should add any more specific warnings!

If you're sensitive to violence and dark themes, you probably shouldn't read this.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

This mission had gone terribly awry. 

It was only meant to be a routine checkup. The IPC was planning on allocating resources from this planet, something the locals had not been pleased about. Aventurine understood. He would not be particularly happy to have his planet drained of all that made it worthwhile either. (He had not been happy. But all things considered, he thought he was being generous. Nobody was being directly killed, the IPC merely wanted a cut of the many materials the planet offered. The Avgins on Sigonia had all been very intentionally exterminated. He was not doing that to these people.)

Still, he couldn’t afford to take risks, hence the many IPC assigned bodyguards he had brought along. Deals like this, where the clients were undeniably on the losing end, were bound to go wrong in one way or another. Often violently so. 

He just had not expected the bombs. He had not expected the mass amounts of guns. The people were more capable and vengeful than he had assumed, then. Ultimately, it was his own fault.

Most of his goons were dead. Most of the government officials were dead too. It made sense they’d want to go out in such a loud and proud way. A declaration to their people they wouldn’t lay flat before the otherworldly corporation that had come to essentially take away what made their planet their home. Bold to be ready to kill so many of their own, but he could respect it. 

Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be very angry. It was fair, all things considered. He’d had this long coming; being killed by the people whose lives he was ruining. In their positions, he’d love to kill him, too. The only issue was that this hadn’t happened under normal circumstances. 

No, you were with him. You’d been just a bit away from him when they opened fire, when they set off the bomb. 

It was so stupid. It was so, so unbelievably stupid that he’d let you come with. It was your job, yes, but he should have reassigned you to some other mission. Something safer. Something that didn’t involve visiting planets to drain them of all their worth. Something that didn’t bring about rage from the clients. 

He could see you. He’d been saved from the brunt of the impact, and his luck had once again protected him from serious harm. He had only been slightly grazed by a bullet, had only been slightly burned by the heat of the explosion. Nothing serious. Nothing he couldn’t walk off within a week or two. You had not been so lucky. 

Your arm was outstretched over your head, body lying limply on the floor. Missing the other arm. There was only a gaping, red hole where it had once been attached to your body, a little bit of bone sticking out of the gory mess. The blown off hand with your engagement ring lay close enough to him that he could touch it. Maybe intertwine his fingers with it for the last time. The pinky was missing.  

He pushed himself onto his feet on unsteady legs. He could barely feel his own body at all. One glance down at it told him he’d been right in his initial assumption, though. No parts of him were missing. He was intact. 

He stumbled over to where you lay, your expression calm, almost peaceful. No pained pinch between your brows, no worried frown on your lips. Were you unconscious, or were you dead? Though he knew it was unlikely you’d leave this place alive either way, he hoped desperately for the former. 

He fell to his knees next to you. Something was buzzing beneath his skin. Something was buzzing in his vision. Had the world always been so blurry? Had there always been such a loud noise ringing in his ears? His hands trembled as he carefully reached out, a hand tenderly cupping your cheek. Your face was red, slightly burnt in places. Your hair was singed. You felt hot to the touch. 

No, not hot. Warm. Warm as in alive. He couldn’t hear you breathing, but warmth meant life. Warmth meant life. You were alive, surely.

He brushed his thumb under your eye. Tried to find something to say, but he found his mouth refused to open. Carefully, so carefully, he shifted you onto his lap. He stared at the dust from all the debris that had settled onto you. He couldn’t breathe. 

(He thought back to a time when the dust had been sand. He thought back to the red that had painted the ground then as it did now. He thought back to another body he had pulled closer, with hands much smaller and weaker than the ones he had now. He thought back to the taste of salt as tears fell in an endless stream from his eyes to cover his face and hers.)

He moved his free hand to your neck, gently pressing a finger to where he knew he was supposed to find your pulse. It wasn’t there, but only because he wasn’t searching hard enough. He carefully felt around, and though he couldn’t find it, he knew it was still there. He just didn’t dare press down hard enough to find it. The same applied when he felt your wrist. He was just bad at finding things today. 

(He stupidly hadn’t found a good enough reason to put you out of this mission. He stupidly hadn’t found anything that happened before the explosion suspicious enough to leave early. He stupidly hadn’t found his way next to you quickly  enough to save your life.)

When his hand landed on your chest, absent of a heartbeat, tears started falling from his eyes. But why was that? You weren’t dead. In fact, the longer he looked at you, the more sure he became this couldn’t be you. Your skin wasn’t this hot. Your arms were both still attached. You did not have fresh burns covering your face. Most importantly, you were alive. Alive and well and happy and safe from this little mishap. He had misremembered, you had stayed home during this mission. The hand he’d been so sure belonged to you had been someone else’s, he’d merely mistaken the ring for yours. It was such a bland ring, after all. He’d have to buy you a new, much prettier one once he came home to you, and apologise for his oversight in giving you such a boring design. 

He ignored the repeated whispers of ‘not again, not again’ going through his head. Nothing was happening ‘again’. This was not Sigonia. This was not a person he loved, or even knew. He couldn’t understand why his body curled over the stranger’s, sobs wracking his frame as he pulled them close, soft apologies tumbling from his mouth. He nuzzled his face into your- their hair, hand carefully cradling the back of their head as the other supported their back. 

The body smelled like you. The body felt too similar to yours in his arms. The body had your face, even if your features were a little damaged. The longer he stared, the more he could feel his gut sinking. So he shut his eyes and reminded himself that there was no possible way this was you. It couldn’t be, it couldn’t. The universe would not be that cruel to him, would it?

Then again, maybe he had deserved this. If it was real. He was not a good man. He had not come to this planet with good intentions. Losing the thing most precious to him, the only thing precious to him, after taking away so much from so many others was a befitting punishment. 

But you hadn’t deserved this. Wouldn’t have, if it was real. You were so kind and generous and perfect and lovely, so different from him, so different from the position your job wanted you to be. You didn’t deserve to die. 

Die. Dead. 

Dead. Dead. Dead. 

You were dead. 

(Aventurine had seen so much death in his life. He should have been used to it by now. He was used to it. He had just forgotten how much it hurt when it is someone he loves.)

He held you tighter. If he held you tightly enough, could it piece you back together? If he held you tightly enough, could he replace the parts of you that were missing with his own? The sobs that escaped his lungs were violent, and quickly, some morphing into gagging. He felt sick. He had to turn himself away from you briefly to throw up, not wanting to soil what was left of you further, before he desperately held you again. Would it be the last time he held you?

Maybe if he took you back to the ship quickly enough, something of you could be salvaged. Maybe he couldn’t piece you back together, but he could find someone who would. There had to be something he could do. This couldn’t be it. He couldn’t lose like this again. 

He could barely stand. His body was already weak and your added dead weight made it even harder to balance. He picked up the parts of you strewn about on the ground he could quickly spot. Your hand, your shoulder, what he thought might be your bicep. He couldn’t find your forearm and he didn’t have time to properly search for it. Maybe someone could put all of you back together? Maybe you’d be whole again. He wanted you to be whole again. 

(He couldn’t save his people. He couldn’t save his mother. He couldn’t save his sister.)

(But things had to be different now, surely. He was a different person now. He had power, he had wealth, he had everything. What would it all be good for, if he couldn’t save you?)

Other IPC personnel met him outside the building as he stumbled out, and Aventurine’s mind was so hazy he couldn’t make sense of anything that was happening. He was pretty sure his own, now dead, workers had sent a distress signal. People rushed in to find anyone else from the wreckage. After, Aventurine found out he was the sole survivor. (He always was.)

(You had not survived.)

He demanded you be taken into surgery. That the medical staff on board had to get you to breathe again. For some reason, they had been hesitant. He threatened to have them fired or killed if they didn’t get to it. He set you as first priority, putting the best doctors they had on hand to work on you. 

They sewed you back together as best as possible at his insistence. They got your heart pumping blood again, they hooked you up to machines and forced your lungs to breathe. The surgery lasted for four hours.

It did not change the flatline on the screen signalling your brain activity. 

He could find the best doctors in the whole galaxy, but he already knew the line would remain flat. Nothing was bringing that back.

He stared at you for hours after your surgery. Interlaced his fingers with yours, feeling the artificial warmth of your hand. It did not feel like you. The temperature was wrong. The look on your face was wrong. Your body was wrong. Everything about what remained of you was wrong. 

He eventually laid his head on your chest, and then he cried.

He cried until the black spots in his vision grew so numerous he could no longer see, until everything faded and he could no longer hear the beeping and humming of the machines keeping you hollowly alive. 

(Why did he ever let himself love again?)

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Sorry that was messy I wrote everything today because I am con-crunching tomorrow and won't be available for like at least 3 days after this (usually I write over the span of multiple days so I can re-read for grammatical/spelling errors and so my language will be a little more varied + I get fresh ideas). Sorry this fic was ?? kind of messed up ??? I think ??? I think my perception of what's messed up and not is kind of weird (I grew up on warrior cats HELP.) so to me it didn't feel that fucked up to write about Aventurine literally picking up your body parts after you died but I've realised upon mentally summarising that part of the fic that maybe that was kinda horrific. Just a glimpse into my twisted mind heh 😈.... sorry

My inbox is open, feel free to send in asks or requests, I'd love to ramble about things <3

[pagegirlintraining]

helloo

i have been re-reading your sex-shop au (it's really good) you co-wrote with sb else and i have been wondering. in the sequel when stuff gets more explicit, how is it to write that? do you plan intimate scenes a lot or more than other scenes. what is important? or are they more spontaneous? is it a big challenge to write them together with sb else and do you read each others parts to give feedback? what kind of feedback?

haha that's quite a few questions but i'm curious :)

hi there anon :)

First of all thank you, that’s so sweet and I’m glad it’s holding up on the re-read too 🫶🏼

Now as for your questions, I’ll try going through them one by one. Just a warning, this might get a bit long (when asked about writing, I’ll always have a hard time shutting up again 😅).

Also disclaimer, I’m obviously not some sort of expert on this topic. This will only be an answer based on my personal experience.

1) do I plan explicit scenes more than others? - Not usually. In fact, the only real planning I do for them in any of my other fics is whether they’re gonna happen and where in the plot. The specifics are being decided as I write.

Obviously, with sex shop it was a bit different because we needed a different toy/gimmick to be included in each chapter. We actually made a list of six things we wanted to include beforehand, then each claimed the ones we felt like writing ourselves (or in my case, handed off the one I didn’t feel like writing). Beyond that, though, it was write as I went again.

2)what’s important in an intimate scene? - Emotions. I could read the most detailed description of a sexual act and feel nothing if it doesn’t include how the characters feel. That starts with what they perceive, what they hear, see, smell, feel etc. (think moans and such, the light catching in someone’s hair/eyes/on their skin, do they smell freshly showered and like a comfy hug or are they still sweaty from a run, the temperature or strength of someone’s touch and so on and so forth) and moves on to how the things they perceive make them feel in this moment. Most of the time, that second part is in some way amplified or modified by the fact that they’re experiencing it with this specific person, which is my personal favorite part about intimate scenes.

I’m sure there’s also plenty of people who lean more toward description heavy stuff, which is more than fine. It’s just not what I’m trying to do with my own writing.

3) are they more spontaneous? - kinda answered that one already but I’ll add that I’ve never been able to write out of chronological order, so every intimate scene is very much written with the previous parts of the story in mind. It’s spontaneous in what the specific sexual acts are, but I always know ahead of time what I want the characters to feel/think about/realize during them.

4) is it a challenge to write explicit scenes with someone else? - I guess it depends on the person, but in this case, not at all. I think it’s important though to discuss ahead of time if one or both parties are uncomfortable with writing or reading certain things.

Also, writing together mostly means we write different parts of the same story, hence we each write our own explicit stuff, then make sure both parts fit well together. So the real challenge is daring to show somebody else your vision and hoping they agree with it.

5) do we read each other’s parts to give feedback, and if so, what kind of feedback? - YES. That’s the best part of writing together imo, is hyping each other up but also getting to give and receive the kind of input that can make a story even better. To be fair, my feedback to most of @the-amber-fox’s smut is a pretty unhelpful combination of 🫠 and 🔥, but we make do 😂 from time to time we’ll suggest adding something, mostly if the other person’s a bit stuck. But yeah, most of it is just getting to read it ahead of everyone else and being happy about that 😁

I hope I could answer some of your questions in a helpful way 💜 Thanks for giving me the opportunity to think about this so explicitly (pun not intended). I’ve never done that before so that was fun :)

[know-the-way]

Miss Fisher and the Crypt of Tears Discourse(?)(maybe idk?)

So… at this point I’ve watched the entire 3 series and film. Twice. I was going to post episode reactions for series 2 and 3, but I really need to skip ahead to Crypt of Tears because I have… questions. If anyone knows the answer or potential answer to any of them, please weigh in because I am just… struggling to understand some of the narrative decisions they made here.

(Btw, overall I enjoyed it, so I don’t want it to seem like I’m coming from a solely negative perspective - obviously, the last 5 minutes in particular… talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, etc etc. I may do a separate ‘things I enjoyed’ post. I just needed to talk this out. lol)

****Full warning, this is a very long post, I am so sorry in advance.****

1. Alright, first things first - wtf do you mean it’s been a YEAR since she left Melbourne?! What was she doing that whole time? Like obviously, you could infer that she got caught up in local shenanigans and hadn’t seen everything to a satisfactory end yet, but I feel it would’ve taken maybe 1-2 minutes to just briefly explain that for the audience’s sake.

I also totally understand that they were attempting to make a stand alone project that could be independent of the series, so referencing where the series left off would be antithetical to that. HOWEVER, I think at the point where fans of the series invested $1 million… that should have maybe made tying up loose ends from the series a bit more of a priority?

I also saw that they hoped to garner new audiences from the film. And maybe it’s just me, idk, but - I’m a new audience and the only thing that brought me to the film was the knowledge that I had 3 seasons worth of backstory to immerse myself in beforehand. There are very few scenarios in my mind that would’ve had me watching just the film and nothing else. So… help.

2. Similar to question 1 - SIX WEEKS?! Where was she for six whole weeks? How did she escape the train? Was it like a Bear Grylls situation out in the desert for a while or did she have to barter with local villages or something? Just again… 1-2 lines of dialogue and I’d be good. Instead, I’m just sitting here confused like, “okay cool, I’m super glad you’re alive and stuff, but um… HOW?!”**

(**acutely aware that this is how Jack must feel all the time) (and he deserves a pint from the pub for his troubles ‘cause omg)

3. SPEAKING OF JACK - *r2d2 screech* This poor man. Jesus. How many times does he have to grieve the love of his life? It’s kinda rude at this point.

I’ve read articles with the writers where they talked about wanting Phryne to be strong and independent without emasculating Jack as a character. And I remember thinking, “Yes! They do such an excellent job of finding that balance in the show and it’s really satisfying. It’s one of the things I love most about their dynamic - the freedom to be themselves while still having this very strong collaborative connection.”

^These scenes, though? Whaaaatttt happened? 🫠 I don’t think it emasculated him, but Phryne’s almost non-reaction to him being there… grieving her... it comes off kind of insensitive and perplexing at its bare bones, to me.

Upon a few rewatches of that scene, I’ve been able to slowly formulate potential justifications for her behavior - i.e. she did tell him to come after her and he didn’t, so maybe she lost hope on her end and dove into the first perilous mystery she could find to help herself get over him. Thus, when she finds out he’s there for her memorial service, I could see her inwardly going, “Okay wow, it took me dying for you to make any moves whatsoever. Cool. Good to know I’m only worth the trip if I’m not here anymore. (Hence, the ‘And I’m very sorry that I’m not dead!’ line later.)”

Which would be a fair point, imo, and they do have a track record of just… infuriating miscommunication, but ultimately… it’s all still hypothetical. We aren’t given any actual, spoken insight into her motivations or feelings in regards to Jack (the smallest glimpse we get is her teary eyes outside the door at his guesthouse along with the “damn it, Jack” line). So, without any further follow-up clarification in the film - at face value, that scene is harsh and almost callous imo. And, despite their many conflicts in the show, there was never once where I felt they weren’t at least making an effort to understand each other. Like there is never a point in the film where they take a moment to acknowledge the time lost between them. They don’t get to have that (necessary) release of emotion and mutual understanding (there’s no nightcap moment), so it just feels incomplete.

4. I promise not to make all of these redundant, but the quicksand scene. Obviously, I love it ~*for reasons*~, but I found myself once again choosing a side (Jack’s)???? Which, throughout the entirety of the tv series, I never chose a side between them ‘cause I could always understand both of their perspectives. In this scene and the reunion scene, I’m left confused both times about Phryne’s perspective. Maybe because Mac isn’t there to pull the full truth out of her just afterwards? That’s probably it.

But her lumping Jack in with “any other man” she doesn’t need to explain herself to - either that was a fear response or a flat out dishonest one. Girl quit playin’… we all know he’s not just any other man and we all know he has never tried to change you or take charge of you. Please, the bottom-leaning switch vibes that come off that man… he LIVES for you telling him what to do. He doesn’t want to control you, he just wANTS TO BE BESIDE YOU. GOD.

I so didn’t want to be frustrated with Phryne (I love her**) and I was honestly upset that I was, but there was just something… missing in both these instances for me (vulnerability maybe? idk) and I can’t quite get it to add up. It really probably was a lack of Mac, though.

(**again, Me 🤝 Jack, complicated feelings for a complex modern woman, we’ll both be at the bar if you need us)

5. Last one - “Is this your idea of sweet nothings?” “I thought they were out of the question?” “They are. Continue.”

Did I miss a scene where they laid ground rules for their partnership going forward in Shirin’s case? Or was that something that was cut/not included? Because… if there was a scene of them discussing that before Jack agreed to stay… that would have taken care of most of what I said above in and of itself.

(But no fr… did I miss a scene? Is my copy broken? Help?)

Gonna Leave on a Positive Note, because if you asked me if the below scene made it all worth it, I’d have to say yes:

[justphilia]

Hello everynyan :3 I wrote somethang :]

Fandom: SPY x FAMILY (Anime) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Becky Blackbell & Anya Forger, Anya Forger & Loid Forger | Twilight & Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess, Damian Desmond & Anya Forger, Damian Desmond/Anya Forger, Loid Forger | Twilight/Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess Characters: Anya Forger, Becky Blackbell, Damian Desmond, Emile Elman, Ewen Egeburg, Loid Forger | Twilight, Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess, Original Characters Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, Background Relationships, (as in just like in canon, romance is not the focus), Theatre, Cinderella references (not disney), Comedy, Fluff, reads like an episode basically, Not Beta Read, Self-Indulgent

Preview:

As per yearly tradition, Eden Academy once again opens up auditions for every cohort to try and earn a spot on their respective theater plays. Scripts are predetermined, so all they really have to do is display their ability to act and memorize their scripts, and hence…

“You’ll get a Stella for landing a leading role?” her father raises his brows in surprise, definitely brimming with interest behind his wilting newspaper.

“Ye,” she nods once firmly, fists clenched up to her chest.

Anya wasn’t really interested in the theater play from the start, but Becky, with her fair share of interest towards drama and all things romantic, heard the storyline they picked for their cohort is going to be Cinderella—a classic among all ages—and so wouldn’t stop talking about it.

Overhearing this, Damian ended up revealing the Stella bit between his ramblings of, “I’m totally gonna land the prince’s role.” and “You’re gonna watch my wonderful performance on stage soon!”, which then prompted Anya to boldly declare that she’ll audition too.

It’s two birds one stone, she thought to herself as her father mulls it over. If she lands any lead roles, she’ll get a Stella and spend more time with Damian, boosting their friendship status.

“Oh, Anya,” he would say—she can already imagine it. “Acting with you was so fun! Let’s do more acting at my house and also bring your dad to meet my dad!”

“Okay dokey,” she would answer, very cooly but also surprised so he wouldn’t think she planned this.

“Hurray, you have achieved world peace, Anya!” her father would then say, right after. “Good job! Millions of peanuts for you!”

“Did you bring the script?” her real, non-fantasy father asks, snapping her out of her daydream. She nods once again, running to her bag to pull out a relatively thick script—about the width of her clenched fist, but still lighter than all her textbooks combined.

He does not say it, but she clearly hears him go, Oh dear. 

She lets him take a look, knowing it won’t take long because she’s seen how fast he can read, and makes her way over to her mother, who has busied herself with doing the laundry right next to her husband on the couch.

“Is mama any good at acting?” she asks, resting her cheek on one of her mother’s legs.

“Oh, I don’t really think so,” her mother laughs in reply, shaking her head. “I’ve never been an actor, and I’ve never tried.”

“What about you, papa?” Anya turns to her father, despite knowing fully well what his true answer will be. As bad of a liar he is, his ability to alter his expressions at will is definitely awesome. If Anya didn’t have the ability to read minds, she would’ve thought his feelings could change just as easily. 

“I’m not sure about stage performances, but I suppose I have to act a little in front of my patients,” he answers. She thought he would’ve said no flat out. “Otherwise, showing my true feelings may disrupt the trust between us.”

“Maybe I can become a star!” Anya says cheerfully, clasping her hands together as she dreams of herself on the red carpet. 

Her father’s smile strains, “Perhaps.”

[beautiful-songbird]

Hello! Hi! I see that you are an avid book reader and I am here to kindly ask for book reccomendation reccommendation recommendations. I at long last have some time to return to the wonderful world of reading and I very much long to hold a book in my hands and get lost, but alas I cannot find one that piques my interest. You look to have good taste and I would love to hear your thoughts on this.

Yours sincerely,

Snurt

P.S. <3333333

P.P.S. Why is "recommendation" so hard to spell?

Hello friend! You don’t know how happy seeing this made me! 😆

Be warned this is going to be a long post because I read a lot of books last year that I loved…so…yeah…

I feel like I need more to work with than just “give me a book rec” butttt 🤔 I suppose we can make this work

I mostly read fantasy but I assume you knew that since you follow me 🤨👀

(Unless mentioned otherwise these are all trilogies or duologies)

If you like puzzle games I’d definitely recommend The Inheritance Games 😌 I thoroughly enjoyed that trilogy and it made my puzzle mind go brrrr

As for fantasy, I have quite a few to recommend

If you’re into classic fae (as in…darker stories I suppose) I’d recommend The Cruel Prince and These Hollow Vows. They both have deeply romantic undertones but they’re more heavily focused on the politics that the stories revolve around.

*The Cruel Prince also has two novellas that go with it and a sister duology about the main girl’s younger brother, so if you’re looking for a world to get immersed in and keep reading, I’d seriously recommend reading that entire world.

If you’re looking for more whimsical fantasy I’d recommend Caraval and Once Upon a Broken Heart. They’re sister series that are semi-connected and they both have very immersive fairytale vibes. These two are heavy on the romance aspect but they also have great plots that carry them!

If you’re into low fantasy where there’s a bit of magical element in the plot but it’s not overwhelming, I’d recommend Six of Crows and Defy the Night. Both of these books have amazing plots but they focus more heavily on the relationships between the characters and how they trauma they’ve experienced has shaped their personalities. Six of Crows is a lot heavier of a read, so if you’re looking for something lighter, start with Defy the Night.

If you’re looking for fantasy that’s just a bit fun, I’d go with Assistant to the Villain. This book was very silly and fun while also dealing with serious topics. It was, however, to my dismay, a trilogy with only one book out…so…be warned.

If you’re into dragons and war colleges I’d recommend Fourth Wing, but keep in mind that this one has smut and lots of swearing. Despite the fact that this is one of my favorite books, I give this recommendation very loosely because of the content in it.

As for standalones, I have a few great recs:

- The Forgetting

A sci-fi (?) mystery about a city where everyone loses their memory every 12 years. Lovely characters and great plot.

- The Half-Life of Love

Absolute tragedy of a story that you know will end awfully from the start but you read it anyways and then sob your eyes out.

- Greymist Fair

A paranormal Brothers Grimm-esque collection of related stories. The town of Greymist Fair is very enchanting, and the way the stories all tie together is so much fun.

- The Stars We Steal

This was sci-fi and I read it in 2020 so honestly who knows what happened in it but I remember really enjoying it 🤷🏻‍♀️

If you want to see everything I read last year and my reviews of it all, you can go to my 2023 reading recap

I also have a short list of sappy modern romance novels if you’d like, so send me another ask if you want those too! This post is too long already 😆

P.S. I think recommendation is so hard to spell because it sounds like it should have multiple double letters…hence why I say “recs”.

P.P.S I love the way you type. Very eloquent and lovely use of words.

[robbie-roo]

hey guys whats up I've been working on taxidermy in one of my classes and I thought I'd document the process here!

a fair warning I will be showing images of a dead animal and the pelt of said animal it isn't too gory (at least by my standards) but please proceed with caution if you are sensitive to these topics

my specimen is a female fox squirrel I don't know how she passed away but her pelt will be used in my college's zoological museum as a mount to teach other students about their physiology.

(photos under read more- final warning)

left: me holding the fox squirrel's upper half in my hands for comparison

right: same photo but zoomed out you can see the skinned carcus in the bottom right corner

you'll also notice there are bloody tissues and a bag of snarge behind me (snarge is basically the guts/remains of an animal that's the actual term for it I didn't make it up I promise)

(side note: her head on top is not supposed to be that flat her skull was unfortunately crushed and shattered into quite a few pieces)

so when skinning an animal first you make a ventral cut from the midpoint of the stomach to the genitalia

I am really bad at this part.

I accidentally cut into the muscle lining holding together all the guts and innards this isn't a huge deal as you can just sorta pull them out and set them aside since I didn't need the carcus for future specimen mounting. So that's what I did I took the snarge out and set it aside so I didn't have large intestine sticking to my fingers

the problem that occurs when you do this though is you open up bleeders the body cavity will start to fill with blood as the specimen thaws (they are kept in a freezer until skinning NOT formadahyde or other embalming chemicals) and there's really nothing you can do about it so that's why there are bloody tissues I basically re-stuffed the squirrel with paper towels so I didn't get blood all over the pelt

ok so on to skinning I have done this one other time with my lovely little mouse corn dog (I'll explain)

after you make a cut and DONT fuck up the guts like I did you can start skinning which is honestly way easier on a squirrel than it is on a mouse (who would have thought)

you start with the hind legs and you pull the meat out all the way to the ankle joint and then we cut right at that joint to keep the foot bones intact connected to the skin some people will take these bones out but we don't just to make it easier on us once you have both legs out you pull all the bones out from the tail (you basically deglove it it's kinda cool to look at after) and then you pull the rest of the skin off like a jacket until you get to the arms (follow the same steps as the hind legs) and the head

the head in complicated once you get to this part you have a lot of things to keep in mind- the eyes, ears, nose, and mouth and you must keep as much skin as possible in the eyelids and lips while keeping the ears completly attached

it's very difficult... also TW for gore in the next photo

so corn dog

(jumpscare lol)

Corn dog is a little different thus mouse was prepared the same way as I just described however we mounted her to become a study skin

once she was skinned we made basically a tube of cotton to stuff up in there and sewed her up she looked like a corn dog- hence the name

this post is getting a bit long so I'll break it into two and traumatize you some more later

[peekapen]

Into the Deep Chapter 5

Summary:

Moon is trying very hard to not care about you whilst you learn more about how poorly your job had been handling you before you have a run-in with Clide.

Notes:

Trigger warning for Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment (I think) and Attempted Sexual Assualt! You have been warned!

Moon stared at the toys you'd let him keep in his hand as well as the tuna he had taken from right under your nose feeling both proud that he had been able to steal them from you and annoyed that it had been so easy and that you had laughed afterwards. God, you were so stupid! It had been way too easy to grab these things without you noticing, but honestly, what did he expect from you? For you to actually notice? You were too trusting for that, always way too trusting of him...

It just kept baffling him how you never seemed truly afraid of him. No matter what he did or how he came across, he never really sensed any fear from you. Rather, he always felt awe and wonder. Granted, he should've known better than to sit so close to you, he's seen how you responded to Sun being close to you, it was obvious you were happiest when one of them came near you. He really shouldn't have done that.

That being said it had been shockingly nice lying next to you. It had been unnervingly relaxing to just lay by your side as you read under the stars, watching as your face subtly shifted in expression as you read your stories, one moment smiling widely before cringing or seeming close to tears the next. It was...fascinating. You were fascinating.

His eyes widened in shock as he registered that last thought of his. What the heck?! You weren't fascinating! You were just another dumb human who barely seemed to know safety from danger! He angrily started biting on the ring he had taken from you and felt another wave of frustration at himself for thinking that about you. I mean look at how much he took from you! How stupid were you to not notice he had taken all of the tuna when he had?! And instead of getting mad you just laughed? Who does that?! It's not normal, not normal at all. No, normal was the last word he'd use to describe you...You were anything but with your fearless excitement and curious nature. If you kept going as you did, there was no way you'd survive out there on your own, you needed to toughen up!

He caught himself and snarled again before biting harshly into a tuna. What was he thinking?! Why did his thoughts always seem to change when it came to you? He didn't care about you! Never would and never will! All he cared about were the stories and tuna you brought, for all he cared you could just keel over and die!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You yawned tiredly as you went scouring through the library. You had slept for nearly another whole day last night, but you couldn't sleep in more today. After all, it's already been a little over a week since you'd started working here, which meant you only had so much time left before you had to finish your strange task.

Because you've been here for as long as you have and have spent time with both Sun and Moon a fair amount you decided to try caring for them both at the same time around sunset. Ideally, you would've continued seeing Sun and Moon separately for a little while longer, but after what had happened with Sun you didn't want to freak him out anymore as you were pretty sure anxiety was the cause of his lack of sleep and eating. Though you weren't sure what made him so anxious that he ignored his natural clock and his food, you think it might have something to do with you, though you weren't sure what you were doing that could warrant such behavior from the boy. So maybe if you spent time with them both, you could avoid extra stress for Sun.

Hence, why you're here in the library. Now that you knew Moon liked stories, you were going to make sure to find out what he liked, so you grabbed a little bit of everything save articles on Mer biology. You doubted he wanted a Biology class on his own species when you were there. But you made sure to pack extra legends and myths as he seemed to really like them last time. You giggled as you remembered the look in his eyes as you read the story to him, he had just been so cute! Sun had also been really cute when he got all indignant at Moon too. They were both just too cute-

"Ah!" You yelped as you bumped into someone and staggered back a few paces. Thankfully you were able to catch yourself before you fell or dropped the books, but it was still a ridiculously close call.

"Hey watch it you-Wait a second I know you!" Before you could respond the person grabbed the front of your shirt and tried to pull you toward them, but due to your natural instinct to pull away they weren't able to do anything except for causing you to drop your books on their feet.

They cried out in pain and immediately went to grab their foot, but you didn't stick around to see who it was and quickly rushed out of the library. Due to your panic, you didn't realize you were being followed until your hand was grabbed from behind you. Acting on instinct once more you yelped and punched toward the person, but thankfully they dodged before you could land a hit.

"It's me (Y/n)! It's just me." The other person assured you and it took you a few moments before you had calmed down enough that you vaguely recognized the brunette as Charles' husband Henry.

"Henry...? What are you doing here?" You asked as you continued to take deep breaths, confused.

"I saw what happened in the library with Clide...Are you alright?" He asked and your eyes widened in shock.

"That was Clide?! He was uglier than I thought he was." You blurted out without thinking, causing Henry to stare at you blankly for a moment before he started laughing, causing you to awkwardly smile back as you blushed in embarrassment before you tried to defend yourself. "I swear, I didn't recognize him!"

"Don't worry, I believe you. Just don't let him hear you say that. the last thing we need is for him to have an actual reason to go after you." Henry assured you with a chuckle and you huffed.

"I'm just saying it as it is. He's an ugly person." You said and Henry snorted out a laugh.

"However true that may be, you shouldn't tell him that." He stressed, but the smile on his face showed you how amused he truly was. You smiled and nodded at that before growing curious.

"Don't worry I won't! Soooo, what were you in the library for?" You asked with a tilt of your head.

"Oh! I was just looking for some data on Octopi Mers. A new one just came into the Sanctuary and they need a proper look over, but we've never really had one before." Henry said and you nodded before realizing something: Though you two had been introduced and you knew he worked here, you had no clue what he actually did! You smacked yourself in the head, surprising Henry before you gave him an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, I just realized how silly I've been. I have absolutely no idea what your job is around here." You said sheepishly and Henry smiled before pointing over his shoulder.

"Wanna find out?" He asked and you, as curious as you were, of course, said yes.

He led you down the hall to Charles' office and held the door open for you. Confused you walked inside and looked around. Charles' office was one of the biggest in the entire building even if it didn't look like it with the large bookcases lining the two side walls and the desk which stood in front of a window that made up the farthest wall. Scattered on the shelves, the desk, and the floor were maps and other miscellaneous items to help him learn more about Mers from ancient sources. You carefully picked up a particularly old scroll, only to have it deftly plucked from your hands by Henry, who smiled at you before making a tut-tut motion. You pouted but relented and followed him to one of the bookcases on your left. With an overly dramatic spin, he grabbed a red and gold book from one of the shelves and pulled it, causing it to swing open and reveal a shiny metal door behind it.

You watched with wide eyes as Henry confidently approached the door and turned to a black pad next to the door where his eye was quickly scanned before it slid open, revealing one of the coolest things you had ever seen. Now you knew what had happened to all of that extra space in Charles' office, for behind that door sat a lab that looked like it came straight from a sci-fi movie. Inside a medium-sized room with iron-plated walls were multiple metal tables scattered throughout the space with one or two robotic arms hanging above each one, some doing something whilst others remained still despite their table having random stuff on it too. Multiple screens showed different loading bars which were either randomly filled or showed a green complete on them. Behind these tables though on the farthest wall was a huge supercomputer. It was made up of one huge screen in the middle and various, randomly sized ones surrounding it, though none were nearly as big as the center one. Each screen showed something different, but the big one showed a dark-red Mer with eight tentacles instead of a tail, the new Octopi Mer Henry must have been talking about earlier.

"Welcome to my lab!" Henry said as he spun around slowly before sitting down in a high rolling chair. "This is where all of the newest tech for the Sanctuary is both created and finally approved. Considering what we do for a living we need the best of the best to care for our Mers, and with that, we don't just mean people, we mean machines as well. How else do you think we are able to filter out seawater to put in the tanks? And clean them without needing any extra workers to do so? That's what I'm in charge of." He said proudly as he grabbed a metal glove from one of the complete tables and fired it, causing a grappling hook to appear which crashed into and cracked the wall it hit. You giddily jumped up and down with stars in your eyes at the coolness of it all! Who knew one of your coworkers was this awesome?! "This is why Charles says to come to me if you have any questions. Due to my role, I know pretty much everything you might need to know about Mers and their care."

"Woah! This is amazing! I didn't know we had this sort of department here!" You said excitedly as you started zooming from one table to the next, not noticing Henry's frown as you did so.

"You didn't know about it? I get that you didn't know where I work and such due to how busy you've been, but you didn't know about this department at all? Weren't you told about it during orientation?" He asked as he placed the glove back on the table. You turned to him with a confused look and tilted your head at him.

"Um...what's orientation? All I had was a crash course on what to do if you're suddenly pulled into the water by a Mer." You said sheepishly and Henry stared at you in shock, obviously dumbfounded.

"You didn't go to orientation?! But every newbie is put in orientation so that they know how this place works! Please tell me you at least know what the different labs on the second floor are for?" He asked as he gripped your shoulders tightly. You furrowed your brows at this but shook your head.

"No, I know pretty much nothing. Well, I know a little about Sun and Moon and the stuff that Charles told me on the tour, but outside of that, nope, nothing."

"That's not good. How could the higher-ups have allowed this?! There must have been some sort of mistake...Why don't you go and get the books you wanted from the library? I'll get some guards to deal with Clide, so don't worry about him, alright?" He said with a serious look on his face, causing you to grow worried you had done something.

"Why? Did I do something wrong?" You asked and Henry shook his head as he ushered you out of the door.

"No, you did nothing wrong here. Your superiors missed something vital when you arrived and now I'm going to fix it." He said as he led you out the door before promptly speed walking away, leaving you incredibly confused, but you decided to just leave it be and collect your books before you headed out to see your boys. Sadly, this didn't go as planned as not even three steps towards the library your collar was suddenly snagged again and before you could react you were pushed into the wall behind you, causing you to let out a wheeze from the sudden impact.

"There you are you piece of shit! Did you really think you could escape from me just because the higher-up bastard was there to save you?" Clide hissed in your ear and you glared at him.

"I wasn't escaping from you and Henry didn't save me, I just left because I got startled. Those are two very different things, my friend." You said with a shrug before you were slammed into the wall once again by Clide, causing you to grit your teeth.

"You'd make up any excuse to not seem like the fragile little pussy that you are. But then again, what should I expect from someone who stole my job just to see me suffer." He hissed and you cocked your head in confusion, not understanding where he was coming from.

"What? I've got no beef with you man. If anything, I should be thanking you for giving me this opportunity. Sun and Moon are lovely Mers. If you're just missing them I would gladly show you how to care for them properly so that you could say hi to them." You offered with a smile before yelping as he hit you against the wall for a third time, far harder this time before pulling you so close you could smell his breath as his spittle flew onto your face. What the heck was wrong with this guy?! He wasn't making any sense!

"ARE YOU MOCKING ME?! WHY THE HELL WOULD I WANT HELP FROM SOMEONE LIKE YOU?! God, you really are stupid if you think I would ever, ever come to you for advice. You know nothing, NOTHING, in comparison to me, do you hear me?! COMPARED TO ME, YOU ARE JUST A USELESS, TOE-LICKING, STUPID SLUT WHO KNOWS NOTHING ABOUT MERS! ALL YOU KNOW HOW TO DO IS WIN PEOPLE OVER WITH YOUR LOOKS AND YOUR BODY, THAT'S THE ONLY REASON YOU GOT THIS JOB!" He yelled before giggling like a maniac and grabbing something from his back pocket. You stared in shock as he pulled a boxcutter out of his pocket and held it up to your neck, a psychotic gleam in his eyes as he licked his lips. "Well then, how about I treat you like the slut you are? Have my way with you before I slit your throat and toss your body into the ocean where it will never be found-"

He started, but before he could finish you kicked him off just as Henry, Charles, and a bunch of security people ran into the hall. Charles pointed at Clide and before he could retaliate he was apprehended by the security guards. Once Clide's boxcutter was confiscated and he was hauled onto his feet Charles led the guards and him as well. He screamed a bunch of vengeance-like nonsense as he was dragged away by the guards, leaving you with Henry fretting over you as you tried to figure out what the heck just happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Despite Henry and Charles' advice you still went out that night to see your boys. What could you say, you hated doing nothing and this was something that brought you joy, so it was a good distraction from the horrible and weird encounter with Clide. You had no clue where he had gotten even half of those ideas, but you honestly didn't really want to know either way. You were happy to just leave it be as he was being taken care of now.

You sighed before turning to your cart and smiling. Considering you were going to see them at sundown you had brought something for them both. Drawing supplies and puzzles for Sun and books and a harmonica for Moon and that's not counting the wide variety of treats you had brought for the two to hopefully distract at least one of them if you grew overwhelmed. After all, you had never worked with both of them at the same time before, so this would be new. Instead of your usual excitement though, you were filled with ice-cold dread and worry as everything that had happened with Clide only hours ago made you feel unsure of, well, everything.

What if he was right? What if you hadn't earned this job at all and you were just given it because you look good? But you had been trying so hard to do well here and to just get here...And yet the way you had gotten this job just left a bad taste in your mouth now. There was no way a place such as this one would do that to you...Right? But what if he was right? Then that would mean that all of your hard work had meant nothing and you were just a useless nobody who was just in the right place at the right time and given this job because you looked alright-

You were suddenly torn from your thoughts when you heard dull banging right beside you, causing you to jump in fear before relaxing as you saw who it was. Sun was waiting for you by the front of his enclosure, staring at you with bright happy eyes as he started swimming circles when the two of you made eye contact. You giggled at this and shook your head. What were you thinking, of course, you had earned this job! That bastard was just jealous you were his superior in every sense of the way. You were going to show the whole world what you could do by keeping this job and doing right by your Mers! That would show Clide and everyone else who might be doubting you just how worthy you were of this position.

With your self-esteem boosted and a new sense of rigour you motioned toward the door to Sun who stopped spinning before nodding wildly and swimming away. You grinned and started running after him with your cart, but you quickly fell behind due to how much faster he was and the fact that he wasn't carrying anything heavy on him. You stopped running once you'd passed the glass part and walked the rest of the way to the door, bracing yourself with a smile as you opened it. And it was a good thing you had, because the moment the doors opened, Sun drew you into a bone-crushing hug which made you gasp before you dissolved into giggles as he started licking you.

"Hey, Sunny! It's good to see you too baby, it's good to see you too." You said as Sun suddenly stopped licking you and started sniffing you instead, causing you to giggle at the ticklish feeling. You were giggling so much you didn't notice Sun's low growl before he started rubbing himself against you furiously, but even if you had noticed you wouldn't have cared as you were too happy to see the sweet boy after your stressful and eventful day.

When he finally put you down you grabbed your cart and closed the door behind you, causing Sun's rays to perk up and his tail to wag as he noticed the items in the cart. You laughed and nodded and he quickly grabbed as many puzzles as he could before lying down nearby as you got the rest of the stuff ready for the evening. Once you had unloaded your cart you went over to Sun and sat down next to him, immediately getting cuddled on by the large Mer and started doing some puzzles with him. He seemed to try and teach you how to solve them through his movements and speech, but sadly his chitters were untranslatable for you, and his movements too quick to follow, so you failed to solve any of them. Every time you failed he'd whine empathetically before giving you a lick on the face and you'd start laughing again, causing him to make a sound akin to that as well. After a while of doing this, you vaguely noticed Moon waking up, grabbing a tuna, and plunging into the deep, but you let him be and instead started drawing with Sun.

It wasn't until Sun started to yawn that Moon came out of the water and started toying with a few of the puzzles as well at a safe distance. They weren't as interesting to him though and he quickly put them back in the pile and grabbed a book instead. He started scooting over to you when Sun quickly untangled himself and rushed up to his brother. Due to the sudden lack of support, you were unable to catch yourself and fell on your back with an undignified yelp.

You decided to just lay there though and listen as they 'spoke' to each other with their little clicks, trills, and growls. At one point, Moon sounded really upset, but you weren't paying that much attention as you were watching the sky above you slowly turn from vibrant pinks, golds, and oranges to a deep indigo and violet before turning inky black as stars slowly started to become visible. They continued 'talking' for a little while, Moon sounding more and more upset until you heard and low huff and something moving towards you before Moon popped into your view. You smiled up at the Moonlight Mer and gave him a small wave.

"Hey there Moonie! Want me to read you a story?" You asked and Moon nodded, but then stopped himself.

Concerned, you tried to get up and see what was going on, but he pushed you back down and covered your eyes. Confused you tried to move them before freezing as a song drifted through the air. You had never heard it before, you were sure of that, but it sounded vaguely familiar to you. You hummed along with the song for a bit before yawning. God, why did you suddenly feel so sleepy? Maybe your adrenaline crash started? You yawned again and tried to push Moon's hand away, now telling him you really needed to go but your words came out in slurs and he failed to relent his hold. You pouted, but...Wait, why were you pouting again? You really needed to sleep...And with that final thought you fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

[reapcrbunny]

Hello.

To the Followers that remain, new people seeing this message wondering what thas been going on, and people checking on this blog to see if I’m still here . .

I’m writing this to express my apology and accountability for the last year and a bit that this blog ( and soulseekcr ) was active.

My original pinned with my rules doc attached has been replaced with this post but I will place my rules for prosperity purposes here. If you are reading this post on soulseekcr's blog, you will see it link to dahlia's rules document, though the rules information that has been updated was also updated on that too. Fair warning, this post is long and there will be no read-more, hence the content warnings below. I do not wish for it to be seen as me trying to hide something when I at this point am trying to be genuine, truthful and sincere in where I have failed.

Thus, the content warnings are as follows and read at your comfort or pace: mentions of grooming / predatory actions, my behaviour, boundaries being pushed, mentions of incest.

I implore people reading this already rolling their eyes to bare with this whole thing — please. This is not me tossing blame on other people. It’s just .. me. I know this is long. I apologize. I have much to apologize for and acknowledge. This apology is to the people who saw me in general and to who that hurt because of my past behaviour that, in 2016 - 2018 had been predatory and grooming. This apology is to the people that have been effected directly or indirectly from my actions of being in various servers either from their conception or later on — it was never at all my intent to “ block evade “ as I have been said to have. This apology is to the people who I made feel my writing(s) with them were coerced. I will get into everything if I can. If I miss something, I am sorry, there is a lot that is going around that I have done and without any real knowledge of what else there is besides what I know. I'm speaking about what I know I have done in years past up to the Australian date of 19th April 2023. This was written by me and me alone. Before you ask yourself or think to someone who may have prompted me to write this - no one has told me to make a statement or say any of this. This has been written over a course of a day throughout my work breaks and upon me returning home by my own volition. Thank you.

This apology will cover the grooming / predator accusations, the block evasion accusations, my behaviour and some other things that I believe have been brought up over the course of the last few days through people writing to me as a final goodbye through discord or other means. For starters: my intent was to try and find a community to interact in where I could possibly grow and change in. It is clear, obviously, that this action was taken as something more hurtful and my intentions? They do not matter. I’ve hurt people by existing in discord and certain tumblr spaces and effectively caused more harm. Making my blog over on soulseekcr was, in my mind, harmless. But to some it was seen as, once again, block evasion or someone I did out of malice. To say I did not, again, I know may not be believed and that is alright. I understand how things now look and how I can be believed is non existent. To comment on the apparent confusion, surprise and most likely ridicule, about my rules seeming to be non transparent is something I absolutely apologize over.

For the past few years ( since the edit done when my receipts blog was created in 2020 ) no one brought up the fact that my rules were hard to read due to the formatting itself or that the rule under where I dropped my receipts blog wherein my callouts are located was an issue or seen as me hiding my past. While it clearly does not matter now as, well, y’know … it has been updated to be at the very top and if I ever decide to write either here on this blog or anywhere on tumblr again it will be done in such a way. I am not placing blame on any one person for not telling me this, nor am I going to blame my autism OR my learning disability in full for it not clicking that when people seemed surprised over things that were in my rules when it was brought to them by other parties that, like, it was an accessibility, placement or a me problem rather people than just not reading. I am aware that I have absolutely expressed my disgruntlement on main ( and in private ) about it which, absolutely has been hurtful to the people who were affected by this. Again, I am sorry for not taking the steps earlier to move things around on my rules document sooner. Following the issue with my rules document not being clear or as some clarified " being too far down " … it does make sense wherein people would be surprised over the actions I committed seven years ago.

The behaviour of me writing smut or initiating smut discussions, sharing nsfw art that I have commissioned among other things related to smut content . . was understood to be agreed upon on my end to be something chill on all fronts. If I ever felt something was a little off I either clarified to make sure everything was okay / if comfort levels were okay or dropped the conversation. In my belief, if content being written was being continued then I didn't think anything was wrong as I believed comfort levels were intact. Clearly, they were not. Should I have been, like, more self aware? Probably. Was I? No. Despite my learning disability and autism in understanding things like tone in writing or subtle hints to be like 0% and with long covid throwing that into the negatives . . i still pushed boundaries. Whether I meant to or not does not matter. The excuse I used wherein I would be excited to write with people at all does not matter. People were made uncomfortable and I pushed your boundaries. To individuals I was under the impression I writing with and coming up ideas with -- I wasn't on top of it enough to catch onto discomfort and disassociation and I am at fault. I got caught up in writing something I believed to be at comfort level, when it was not due to signs i did not see - and that is on me. If boundaries were actively being pushed and told to me directly I would have backed off, apologised, and carried on with different genre's of content as I would have been aware that the consent of the nsfw was no longer, like, consensual. For that, to the probable boundless people I have hurt with this, I do not blame any of you for this. I was. Really excited to write with people who were giving me another chance at the time. I have even expressed this fact on voice calls or in text that I was just overjoyed to write with people or I needed communication on certain things - But I was blind to the fact that people were uncomfortable, noticeable or not in terms of distancing content and that is on me and I am sorry.

The grooming accusations? Regardless of my age and how I was just barely an adult at the time or not does not matter. Regardless of me not being sexual in any capacity to the the original maker of my 2018 callout ( wherein my grooming behaviour happened in 2016 - 17 ) or the other individual I dated prior to me turning 18 does not matter. What matters is that, yes, it happened. Regardless of me backing off or not, I was 18 - 20 and I voiced my crush on a minor ( and dated someone else when I was 18 after turning so ). It does not matter to individuals that these actions are not being committed anymore — I will be seen as a monster always to some and, while frustrating to me, that does not matter. What matters is that is how they feel and I respectfully accept that. I was short - sighted to believe that something I did seven years ago to such a degree was something that people could see me change from or that staying in my own lane was possible. I cannot see the man who hurt me as likely changing. It makes sense. It wasn’t and I was wrong. No amount of double checking, blacklisting on my end or trying to co-exist in servers or any activity was going to probably work. Could it have? Maybe a little better. Or not. In hindsight I genuinely don't know -- but I do know that my belief was wrong, unintentionally I continued hurting people directly and indirectly and I am sorry. The last few days wherein my initial statement was made and commented about incest only was my mistake alone. I assumed due to a previous interaction that it was only about that and proceeded to think I was being compared. I breached trust with someone who gave me that information, someone I do not blame this on as it was my fault for running with it and I am sorry.

The trauma the person who was warning the community about because of the grooming in 2016 - 2017 was ( is? tense is hard, I am sorry ) warranted. The belief that I am always and will be that to them, a groomer and/or unchanged, is valid as that is all I will be remembered as to them and anyone else who had been effected by my actions. To the person who made the callout: I apologize. I heard that you were dogpiled — that was not something I wanted nor asked for. Your request to avoid me and the people that wrote with me was valid, it never not was. My behaviour in the past ( and, clearly, in the present ) being made to seem as current set me off and I made a statement I asked if it was alright to make about it to what I thought was the case. I felt I was being chased into a corner and grew defensive. I had a meltdown because of this and stepped away from the conversation as I felt either me or the other person I was dialoguing with wasn't understanding or trying to rile me up on purpose. It was charged, I handled it wrong and I was seen to be deflecting the situation because I misunderstood and misinterpreted the situation -- it is no ones fault but mine. I made assumptions, I had a public meltdown in a server when confronted with the reality I didn't understand where it was coming from because I was triggered by words being spouted at me. As I explain above in terms of the coercion that I have made others feel been committed by myself, among literally everything else I've seen from people before they've left in their goodbye discord messages . . was such. Whether I meant to or not, people were feeling hurt by current behaviour or coersed. But because I grew hyperfocused on the belief that I was being compared to someone who was writing incestuous content actively I did not know about on main when it was brought to my attention. Due to the events being one after another ( like days apart ) I thought that ( guilty by association or writing said content with them ) was the reason I was being called out ( again ). I got upset. I thought it was something to just start a lie. I got defensive, blind to anything else and as someone has said: remorseless. To say I am remorseful as I had the chance to be disconnected and isolated from the situation since I was removed from servers, cut off from those who were people I talked to . . is true. I've sat and come out of defence and shut down mode, read the last messages people have given me and properly stepped away, went to work, and got my brain to realize the reality. I'm remorseful because I was not calm. I tried to express my understanding of my victims and those I hurt and how they feel by bringing up my own -- which, like, in my understanding . . to bring up how i relate to other peoples' experiences is to express compassion or understanding with the situation. However, it was viewed and made to feel as weaponizing my victimhood and spinning the narrative and I am sorry. I was upset, defensive and already under the assumption that something else was why I was being called out. I saw it as an attack that made no sense. I felt antagonized, grew childish and lashed out in the conversation which is plain to see. I did not understand where it came from so suddenly, as I thought I had steered away and kept distance from people I knew didn't like me in a " public space " but I know now that me just being there was not helping and I recognize that. I recognize that it is not about me and my change or lack thereof - it was about victims of my actions being heard. I am sorry that it took so long and I was either ignorant, blind or just ??? I don't know. In any case: the conversation has been documented several times at this point and by now is most likely on my receipts blog.

The actions and other behaviours I committed when I was younger ( and currently with those who I made feel coerced, lies, etc ) … it effected people and still does even when it happened 7 years past and now, recently. As a survivor of csa I understand completely in how it follows people and while I know my apology cannot fix the trauma, loss or hurt that has been caused: please know that I am sorry. I am sorry that due to my lack of awareness, my excitement to write with people or, like, common sense that my appearance kept being seen. I believed blacklisting would fix the situation or that it was the problem in the first place. It wasn't. I believed that the state my rules were at was fine. It wasn’t. It was not my intent for people to feel deceived or lied to due to the content I expressed above but, again, my view of it does not matter. It happened and I am sorry for it. Actions have been taken on my end for it to be deadly clear and you are welcome to look and see. While in my head, saying or acknowledging any of this feels like a moot point, because again who is going to believe me? Who is going to read this? Who knows. Even if no one does, it needs to be said. I believed I'd been doing better in engaging with people who brought up serious topics to me wherein boundaries were breached, I got called out in my behaviour, acted a fool and got hyperfocused on the wrong thing and stepped away from the conversation when I felt it was going nowhere because of my own fault of not calming down. My aim was to not try and control a narrative, my aim was to, in my narrowminded view, not be accused of things I thought I was not doing anymore. Regardless of being directly aware or not of the things I was doing . . it was happening. I was doing the one thing I never wanted to do again or be the cause of: hurting people I saw as my friends. Its not a fault of a lack of communication on both sides, it is me still being unable to recognize social cues or subtle cues that, hey, maybe someone is uncomfortable, it should not always have to be something that has to be punched in my face. It is something I need to continue working on and be more attentive of if I'm ever granted another chance or I write in another rpc again. Semi - finally, I want to apologize to the individuals, moderators and admins that ran servers I was in that were accused of harbouring me in some sort of guilty way. Your mental health has been effected irrevocably and I am sorry. I am sorry for indirect or direct words spoken in your directions. I am sorry to the people that had to either be triggered by the content discussed in the server itself to those who i made feel uncomfortable. I am sorry that my presence in my selfish attempt to have a safe space ruined yours. I am sorry to anyone and everyone that has been indirectly effected by this and your comfort shattered. I am sorry to the individuals that I made feel that my victimhood or my pain was more important than yours. Your pain has and always will be important, relevant and real. My behaviour that you ( and others ) more than likely brought up days ago, and the behaviour that has been more than likely been mentioned in the reblogs of the post, others' or, god knows where else . . was valid to speak out about. Thank you for doing it and holding me accountable. I have not seen everything said and I do not know if I ever will as it will 100% be a breach of boundary if I go looking on peoples' blogs. And I have already done enough damage. I want to thank my former friends and people who gave me a chance at all. I’m sorry that I abused that chance, your boundaries and the trust that was given.

Where will Miles be going to hide next you might ask, wondering when I'll shut up and end this very long post, disappear and reappear somewhere else under a different name. I am not going to hide is my short answer. But I don't have an answer for long term of what I am going to do. The answer I do have for the short term is to leave this post here and on @soulseekcr pinned. Leave avenue's open for dialogue or if anyone left wants to talk to me, and . . take an indefinite hiatus. I clearly need to reflect on what I have definitely blundered on and work on, again, the things I can work on to be more attentive to social / text cues. Actively being here when I have not, like, properly done so when I think I have is doing no one any good. I've made a mess of things. A big one. I know that people who have been hurt by me mayhap not have made it this far and I am aware of that. I am aware that my second chance ( or third or fourth ) has left the building and for that I understand if, in the future, I have run out of them. If I do return to this or any rpc, this blog will be the first to be updated with the url most likely under this pinned post. I do apologize in advance if I am seen in FFXIV, I've taken steps to remove from my friends list those I know do not wish to see me - which does, you know, make you not stand out to me. I am sorry if you see me, the blacklist feature is useless and we all know this. I am sorry if you get upset that I am either in your area, in your alliance or in your dungeon. I will say nothing. I will not bother you. I will not interact in any form besides to probably heal you if I am and then leave. Most likely I'll remain silent if I notice ahead of time. If I have already been removed from the FC's I was attached too - good. If not, don't worry, I've already likely deleted that alt or in the process after posting this to do so. FFXIV is a global game and while, again, my credibility is shot and at this point no one is bound to believe me . . I am not in the business of looking after people in the game to see what is going on. I'm not wishing to press boundaries that have already been run over by a truck.

Finally, I know that this post is being shared in private, picked apart and dissected before anyone even got down to this point. I am not in control of that and I am at the mercy of the ffxiv RPC, my receipts blog ( probably ) and anyone else picking this apart or wherever else it ends up. I hold no malice to the people that do this as it is fair and deserved. If anyone has questions, wants to talk or if anyone wants to discuss my statement ( calmly and without coming at me swinging and even if you do: that's fine. i will probably take an hour at most to read it over a couple times, breathe and then respond like a human being rather than someone just. like. unwilling to listen and defensive. ) I am available on discord ( ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ꜱᴜᴘᴘᴏʀᴛ ᴠɪᴇʀᴀ#7914 ; this will update if i update it ), through Twitter DMs ( @sayteenies ; this has no chance of changing or me moving ) or through tumblr DMs / asks — though this last avenue may take longer for me to respond to due to by above mentioned however - long - hiatus. Thank you for reading this monster of a post, everyone keeping me accountable, your time and sanity to get to the end.

Miles. | April 19 2023.

[theyluvlyss]

/ᐠ-˕-マ~ my personal guide !

𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞... !

...this is a guide that I have made that will help you decipher all of my little fanfic, edit, and shifting terms. keep in mind that while some of these are useful across other profiles/platforms/websites, some of the terms and their meanings may differ elsewhere rather than on my account (hence why I use words "my" and "personal").

so, without further ado, continue reading to see what everything means and how I use it in my works. it's long, but worth it, trust🤞🏽.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

/ᐠ-˕-マ~ each list is in alphabetical order :) !

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜 -

《 ♡ 》 adjective!character : this can get used by either myself or requesters to specify certain traits for a character to have. also includes reader(s), because remember, you are (technically) a character in the story, too :). there can also be as many adjectives as one wants. for example, it could look something like:ㅤpopular!social!reader x loner!quiet!billy batson.

《 ♡ 》 angst : super melodramatic, lot's of drama stemming from problems either caused by outside forces, and/or the reader/characters themselves. can have either bad, unresolved endings, or good "fix-it" type endings. not to be confused with hurt/comfort, which is implied in the name that it's naturally supposed to be a story/fic that hurts you with angst, and then comforts you with fluff at the end. these are my personal fave to write, besides crackfics ♡.

《 ♡ 》 au : this stands for alternate universe. let's say I write a fanfic for, I dunno, henry danger, right? as you know, henry danger is already set in a specific universe. well, as a writer, I have the creative liberty to literally change the entire setting. I can make henry danger take place during the fifties or in space or whatever requested lol🤷🏽‍♀️.

《 ♡ 》 crackfic : (be warned, I stole this definition from a website 'cuz I couldn't gather the proper words to explain it myself lmao) named after the drug to imply that it can only be the product of a deranged mind, crack fic is identified by its absurd, surprising, or ridiculous premise. the plotline might be twisted into a knot, the fic might be a thick parody, or the fic might feature an unlikely or rare pairing ("crack pairing"). sometimes random, nonsensical, or stream-of-thought fics are termed crack, but other crack fics proceed logically, in character, and with internal consistency from their bizarre starting points. the former is generally derided by fandom as badfic while the latter is often praised. generally, these are humor pieces.

《 ♡ 》 crossover : this means/implies that two (or more) separate stories/fics, universes, and/or fandoms will be blended or written together as one. fair warning, I've never actually done this before (yesIhaveI'mjusttooembarrassedtoeverlookbackonit), but I'd be happy to do it now :). on the actual fanfic somewhere on the page, it would look like this, for example:ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤmaze runner x hunger games (crossover/au).

《 ♡ 》 fluff : this means that the story/fic will be super soft with light elements and no dark/angsty themes. it's pure comfort with no ill will/intent, nothing dangerous, very safe and fun :). good vibes only, supa' good vibes only/ᐠ♡˕♡マ✨️.

《 ♡ 》 headcanon : these are a list of assorted, non-ordered thoughts on the character(s) that I have. if requested, there can be a specific theme or topic to base these headcannons upon, but as I stated, they're basically just lose thoughts I come up with on the fly (and edit, ofc, I edit all my works to the best of my ability before posting). with context, you'll know whether or not the headcannons are specific, but for example, a title or something could look like this:ㅤdarby harper x clairvoyant!reader (headcannons).

《 ♡ 》 hurt/comfort : it's basically where the fic I write will have plot points/themes/elements that will "hurt" its reader, whether the bad vibes are happening to the character, the reader, or just bad vibes in general. it'll give you all the feels, very depressing and/or dark, but don't worry. you will not end this fic without being comforted and lifted back up in some ways, shape, and/or form.

《 ♡ 》 hurt/comfort/revenge : this one I'm pretty sure I made up, but it's the overall same vibes as hurt/comfort, except also, reader get their revenge >:). I rarely ever see stuff like this get written into fics, so I have to enter my Thanos era and do it myself, apparently. this goes out to all my petty readers out there who still wanna be softly loved: I gotchu, bae, we gon' fuck the person that hurt you up, don't worry🤞🏽.

《 ♡ 》 imagine : these are longer fics with fleshed out plot/themes/thoughts (and probably some of my best works, if you're on the hunt for quality💀). they can range between something short, sweet, and simple, or long ass stories that can even have multiple parts ! as long as there's no one around to stop me, my self control pretty much determines the length of an imagine lmao.

《 ♡ 》 masterlist : a masterlist is a complete list of all my works pertaining to one specific fandom and/or character. in my case, each fandom has its own masterlist filled with all of the characters names, with a complete set of all of the works/content done for them underneath.

《 ♡ 》 oc : this stands for "own character" and would typically be something others request me to do. I, personally, don't really have any oc's that aren't apart of my original works, so...yeah lol. if requested, it might look something like this:ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤpeter parker x ocㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤand then their oc would be described to me so I can write it :).

《 ♡ 》 oneshot : typically my shorter writings, intended to be written off of the top of my head with either very quick closure at the end, or maybe even no closure at all. basically, if you want a glorified cliffhanger (that may or may not ever get finished or a second part), this is what you want, and it'll be specified somewhere on the page of my work.

ooc : this stands for "out of character." this implies that a certain character may behave in a way that differs from what is originally presented in the media they're in. this is usually spoken as a prior warning/apology to some less than high quality writing, but of course, you are always free to request a character to be ooc :).

《 ♡ 》 original work : anything that I write that isn't fanfiction is an original work of mine. it will be specified on the page, so it's not really something that needs to be worried about :).

《 ♡ 》 pov : this stands for "point of view", which is basically something that tells you what/who's perspective you're seeing/reading things from. I rarely do anything that switches between pov's, but that doesn't mean I can't or won't. it's just not my favorite way to write, that's all lol.

《 ♡ 》 prompt : this is a short summary/info-dump on the story. it helps you (reader) to get a feel for what the impending work is about.

《 ♡ 》 scenarios : the way I write them is kind of like a staggered mix of short writings/oneshots and listed thoughts/headcannons. again, these are kind of meant to be written off of the top of my head, no real order, but definitely a little bit more detailed. these are also some of my faves to write ♡.

《 ♡ 》 ship/shipping : it's a play on words from the saying, "that ship has sailed." a ship refers to two characters whom of which you want to get/be/stay together. you root for them, love them, or can even ship a character with yourself (which is the whole point of the fanfic work I do💀). the act of shipping yourself with a character can be what guides you and others into writing "x reader" work.

《 ♡ 》 smut/nsfw : it's word p*rn, guys. that's all it is, it's just written smexxy times between you and your (aged up/of age🫵🏽...) faves. others might be more familiar with the citrus chart (a.k.a. lime, lemons, grapefruit, etc.). I don't do that because I've stated before, I'm probably not going to do anything super heavy/k!nky. nsfw stands for "not safe/suitable for work", and I typically use that acronym as a warning before you start reading anything in an...*coughs*ㅤㅤㅤo p e n environment🥴...

《 ♡ 》 timeline : this informs you (the reader) of the specific time the events in the story/fic transpire. when I write, I personally base the timeline/setting off of, again, ✨️vibes✨️ and what makes most sense. but as always, you are free to request a specific time/order of events for me to write.

《 ♡ 》 tw/content : this will let you know of any possible triggers and what overall content is in the/any content I make. tw stands for "trigger warning".

《 ♡ 》 + reader : in my works/descriptions, the "+" sign in "+ reader" indicates that the relationship between you and whatever character(s) written is sibling-like and/or completely platonic. no romantic feelings whatsoever (unless it's like an unrequited love or something else of the sort type of deal/plot). for example:ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤdamian wayne + reader.

《 ♡ 》 x reader : in this instance, the "x" in the term "x reader" implies that the relationship between two characters is romantic. again, I'm sure that there can be certain exceptions, but for the most part, it's what I said it is. for example:ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤgray fullbuster x reader.

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𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥/𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 -

《 ♡ 》 (e/c) : (eye/color)

《 ♡ 》 (h/c) : (hair/color)

《 ♡ 》 (h/l) : (hair/length)

《 ♡ 》 (n/n) : (nickname)

《 ♡ 》 (p/n) : (petname)

《 ♡ 》 (s/c) : (skin/color)

《 ♡ 》 (s/t) : (skin/tone)

《 ♡ 》 (u/o) : (usual/outfit)

《 ♡ 》 (y/n) : (your/name)

──────────────

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨 -

《 ♡ 》 (f/b) : (favorite/beverage)

《 ♡ 》 (f/c) : (favorite/color)

《 ♡ 》 (f/d) : (favorite/dessert)

《 ♡ 》 (f/f) : (favorite/food)

《 ♡ 》 (f/m/s) : (favorite/movie and/or show)

《 ♡ 》 (f/s) : (favorite/song)

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𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 -

《 ♡ 》 (bsf/n) : (best friend/name)

《 ♡ 》 (bf/n) : (boyfriend/name)

《 ♡ 》 (gf/n) : (girlfriend/name)

《 ♡ 》 (m/n) : (mom/name)

《 ♡ 》 (d/n) : (dad/name)

《 ♡ 》 (b/n) : (brother/name)

《 ♡ 》 (s/n) : (sister/name)

《 ♡ 》 (s/o/n) : (significant other/name)

《 ♡ 》 (c/n) : (cousin/name)

《 ♡ 》 (a/n) : (aunt/name)

《 ♡ 》 (u/n) : (uncle/name)

《 ♡ 》 (gm/n) : (grandma/name)

《 ♡ 》 (gp/n) : (grandpa/name)

──────────────

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 -

《 ♡ 》 app : I mean, obviously you know what an app is. but I just mean like, I would let you know what app I used to make a certain edit.

《 ♡ 》 collage : an assortment of pictures edited together to create one (aesthetically pleasing) picture.

《 ♡ 》 duration : the amount of time a video/edit takes to end/how long an edit is.

《 ♡ 》 moodboard : kind of like a collage, it's an assortment of pictured edited together to make one. the difference is that the pictures used focus more on the vibe/aesthetic of the character rather than the character themselves.

《 ♡ 》 pfp : stands for "profile picture."

《 ♡ 》 scenepack : it's a video that holds any and all clips of a certain character or characters that can be used to make edits or for whatever other reasons. in other words, a pack of scenes lol.

──────────────

𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐬 -

《 ♡ 》 cr : current reality. the reality you are currently in at this exact moment in time.

《 ♡ 》 dr : desired reality. the reality you are going to shift your consciousness to.

《 ♡ 》 wr : waiting room/reality. a reality you can shift to where the concept is basically like waiting in a lobby/room to decide where to shift to from there.

《 ♡ 》 subconscious : of or concerning the part of the mind of which one is not fully aware but which influences one's actions and feelings.

《 ♡ 》 consciousness : the fact of awareness by the mind of itself and the world.

《 ♡ 》 script/scripting : it's basically exactly what it implies. a script (no matter how detailed, short, or long, because you really don't even need to have one) that allows/helps you to focus on exactly what reality you intend to shift to. keep in mind that you do not make/create a "new" reality. you can not create what already exists. you're simply just becoming aware of a reality, and a script can help you do/focus on that.

《 ♡ 》 script/scripting : it's basically exactly what it implies. a script (no matter how detailed, short, or long, because you really don't even need to have one) that allows/helps you to focus on exactly what reality you intend to shift to. keep in mind that you do not make/create a "new" reality. you can not create what already exists. you're simply just becoming aware of a reality, and a script can help you do/focus on that.

《 ♡ 》 shifting : I wish I had the proper words to explain this, so here's a link to a video explanation and another link to some documents instead :)...

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐭...

...(as if this list wasn't long as hell lmao💀). but hopefully, regardless of length, it was helpful and you found all of the advice/help you needed :). if there's anything you think I should add, though, you can always tell me and I'll be sure to do so.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ/ᐠ-˕-マฅ ~ 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐚 !

[stevensaus]

"More Research Needed": The Problem With All Current Psychological Research

Academic research has long suffered from a sampling problem, particularly when researching animal behavior. Particularly that of humans. The effect is perhaps most widely known from the wrong idea that wolves have "alphas." The whole concept was drawn from observing wolves in captivity, who were not behaving the way they do in the wild. When observing humans, researchers have often been limited by who they could research. Often, that has meant "college undergraduates," which do not represent the population as a whole. Sometimes the limitation has been by how we asked the question -- such as the highly skewed diagnostic criteria for autism and masking behaviors that resulted in a pattern of gender-based underdiagnosis for female-presenting persons. Progress has been made on this front in the biological medical sciences -- for example, in 2023, the issue of diversity in medical trials began to get serious attention. But this same attention must be paid to behavioral research as well. The fact remains that a significant amount of our research about human behavior {1} suffers both from the sampling problem and problems of how the question was framed. For example the "marshmallow study" doesn't say what we think it does about willpower, particularly when controlled for socioeconomic variables. And then there's the Milgram "obedience" experiment -- whether the original or the virtual reprise in the early aughts. Whether you interpret the results as how willing people are to obey authority -- or instead, how far people will go when they think it's for the "greater good" -- I think it's fair to hypothesize that the results would be very different depending on the neurotype of the participant. What were the neurotypes of the participants in either study? We simply do not know; the question simply was not asked. Not only do we not know, but even if they were assessed at the time, until really recently those assessments were themselves flawed. We literally cannot know the extent of the problem without redoing a lot of experiments, some of which you literally cannot legally (or ethically) do today. {2} All prior psychological research about human behavior needs to have a big old warning label.

Featured Image by felixioncool from Pixabay {1} Sociology has this issue as well, though perhaps to a lesser extent than experimental psychology. {2} Hence why the Milgram experiment was repeated virtually. Read the full article

[moonstruckbirdie]

Fair warning, it gets a bit long, hence under the cut, sorry in advance 

WOW, Just wow. This was such a great read. Actually it was leagues ahead of great. First, lets talk about the monologues, like wow. The writing was beautiful, they perfectly captured the feelings of them both, and the way you described it, amazing. The starting is just the right amount of intriguing, and gets you thinking, churning your brain, being like, HOLD ON, WHYYY? WHY did this happen in the first place??. Then the gradual build up, her mentioning not a lot of them knowing about her classes, I am like, does this mean something, and it did. Then, when you get to know only her pov, you begin to dislike Steve, to the point where you want to smack some sense into him, literally. And then the pivotal moment comes, where things all but come to a head, they crash, metaphorically of course. And you begin to see the glimpses of his side, his hurt pouring through. Then after the mission, when they are discussing, oh my god, the way she is so emotionally in tune with how Steve must be feeling, just by looking at him. Relates to him, through her own experience, and immediately knows to handle it calmly, and gently and not let it blow over. LET ME JUST say, the guy LUCKED OUT, HE better make it up to her good, and he will, I am sure. And then she tells her side, and they air it all out, and the way he convinces her, it enough that she loves him, and still needs assurance, heart wrenching and heart warming at the same time. The way she gets it that he did what he did because of his insecurity, his deep-seated trauma, even before the fights and the propaganda of the government. The way you capture what he would be feeling at that time, and we get just enough fleeting glimpses to become emotional, and be this close the gut wrenching sobs, hats off buddy. And in that very instant, you don’t want to smack him anymore, you want to wrap him in a blanket burrito, to assure him, YES HE IS ENOUGH, HE IS LOVED, THAT LITTLE KID WHO DIDN’T BACK DOWN FROM A FIGHT, WHO didn’t show people how their shitty thinking, attitude, tone, and subtle and non-subtle biases, and pities, and judgements were slowly chipping at him, who didn’t give any one the satisfaction of knowing that, who never gave up from a fight, IS LOVED, ENOUGH AND WORTHY, ACTUALLY MORE THAN WORTHY OF LOVE, phenomenal. The ending was so good, they will talk it out, and the way he looks so guilty, he might just wait on her hand and foot, until she assures him again. LOVED READING THIS, AND THANKS A LOT FOR WRITING THIS. 

summary: steve is acting weird. avoiding you, being snippy and mean, leaving the room when you enter. all you want is your boyfriend back, but all he wants is to pretend you don't exist. when he's almost hurt on a mission, you do what you're made to do.

word count: 11k

reader specifics: no race/gender/sexuality/body type mentioned, no pronouns for reader used, powered!reader, insecure!reader

warnings: steve is mean to the reader in the beginning, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, canon-level violence, brief ptsd symptoms, slight description of blood, brief mention of racism in the '30s & '40s

brief mentions of: reader's parents being toxic, homelessness, past accidents, ableism in the past & present

note: this one hurt me lmfao. idk why this went the way it did but i'm not mad at it // also i am a queer, trans, disabled american. i have fundamental disagreements with things that marvel/the mcu as it stands for and some of the more nuanced things that you might not notice unless you're looking for it. this will take place in my writing because i cannot separate myself from the lens in which i consume/create content.

title credit: lil nas x

mobile masterlist - request - support my work? - ao3

Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his. Sure - he’s clever, righteous, courteous… You can’t forget he’s also drop-dead gorgeous because every trashy gossip magazine in a three-state radius of New York doesn’t let you forget. Neither does the sight of him waking up in your bed every morning. (Well, actually, maybe that would remind you if he was still fucking doing that.)

But lately, you’ve had to rely on the fucking tabloids to catch a glimpse of your super-hero boyfriend. The university class you had picked up on a whim at the end of the summer - Life & Times of the ‘30s and ‘40s - avoids any mention of Steve Rogers and the Howling Commandos. Not that your classmates do because, Christ on a bike, those magazines manage to catch pictures of you and Steve in moments that you don’t even remember. Plus, you’re an Avenger too. It’s bound to catch some attention when you waltz into a college classroom.

You’re sure if you were an undergrad trying to fill a gen-ed requirement and were sitting next to someone who could kill you without blinking but also dating Captain Rogers you’d be a little distracted too. You try not to blame your classmates too much, but they do make it hard to concentrate with their -really dating Captain America?- and -wonder if I could get an autograph- whispers. None of that matters because you’re learning, really studying, in between missions and missing Steve and believing that maybe the gossip reporters are right.

Maybe he’s forgotten about you.

You grit your teeth and push the thought away. It does you no good right now, while you’re training with Peter. He’s working his way up to bona fide missions and, because you’re the only one on the team who has experience with real-life teenagers outside of saving their lives, it’s up to you to get him to the level that he needs to be. Plus, the mission where he’s going to get his gills wet is just you, Tony, Steve, Nat, and Bucky. You’d much rather be the one to train him because you won’t traumatize him.

Right now, though, you’re just kicking his ass to try and get rid of some of the tension in your body. You feel a little bad about it, but when you started as his mentor you told him point-blank that you’d never go easy on him. That meant if you were having a bad day he either needed to up his game or he’d have a bad day too. It appears he’s taken that to heart as he struggles to dodge the hits you’re throwing his way. He lunges out of the way when you try to land a right hook but practically walks into the leg sweep that sends him crashing to the ground.

“Awe,” Peter groans, letting his guard down. You take the momentary lapse of focus to grab him by the collar of the hoodie he’s wearing and haul him to his feet, jerking one fist back to cold-clock him but he beats you to it. You hear the sound of your nose cracking before you feel it but then the pain rushes you all at once. You’ve had worse but coming from Peter, the move surprises you. You don’t yell out but he does when you push him away from you and call the fight off. Peter practically yelps your name, hands up by his head as he watches you bend at the waist, both hands over where your nose is absolutely gushing blood. “I am so sorry, I just reacted-!”

���It’s fine, Pete,” You shake your head and stand straight again, the blood beginning to leak through your fingers, “Just go get me a towel, okay?” Peter practically trips over his feet to get something for your nose and as you track him on his way into the locker rooms, you see Steve, Bucky, and Nat. The latter are looking your way, eyebrows raised like they’re asking you if you’re okay. Steve hasn’t even broken stride in his conversation so you wave them off with a bloody hand. Peter’s back in a flash, pressing a wet towel into your grasp and snapping you out of your self-pity party. “It was a good hit,” You compliment as you wipe your face off, “I just wasn’t expecting it. Prob’ly wouldn't have landed it if I had.”

He wrings his hands, shifting from foot to foot. “I’m sorry-”

“It’s a good thing, Peter, means you’re getting better.” You deadpan, checking to see if your nose has stopped bleeding yet, “I don’t think you actually broke it, but I’ll go down to medical to check later.” You do your best to clean up your hands with the wet towel, but it’s so soaked with your blood that it mostly just smears it around. You grimace and shake your head. “Well, I should go now before our sparring match ends up looking like I murdered you.”

“I’ll go with,” He offers, “I’m the one who broke your nose.” You let Peter walk you down to medical even though you were originally going to refuse. Perhaps petty, but it was the way that Steve didn’t even look your way as you left that made you let the teenager walk you the two floors to where you’d be able to clean yourself up. He hums in the elevator and you know that he wants to ask you something - it’s the way he holds his mouth when he’s prying for information or keeping a secret that tips you off. Finally, just before the elevator opens, you sigh and turn to him.

“What, Peter?” He grins but then it falls when he has to skitter after you down the hall. Maybe that’s why it falls - the question he asks next nearly sends you to your ass.

“Is everything okay with you and Captain Rogers?” He easily catches up to you when you stop in your tracks, ignoring that you’re still bleeding a little bit down your face and you might be dripping blood everywhere from where it’s run down your arms.

“What?” You do your best to look confused like everything is fine, but Peter is perceptive. He may fumble around and be pretty awkward, but those are really just teenager things that he’ll hopefully outgrow. You should have known that when someone caught onto how bad things are on your end, it would be Peter. (You wonder if Nat or Bucky has brought it up with Steve, considering he’s spent more time with them in the past week than he’s seen you in the past month.) “We’re fine.” Your words are stilted as you begin walking to the medical wing much faster than before.

“I just thought I’d ask, well, because I’ve sort of noticed… Something just seems off, you know? Like, you two used to spend a lot of time together, and maybe it’s the recon mission coming up, but I was just thinking that you two really barely look at each other even when you’re in the same -”

“Peter!” You say his name much louder than either of you expected and both of you jump. “Peter,” You say softer, looking at the glass door to the medical wing instead of him, “Just leave it, okay? It’s nothing you have to worry about, kid.” Peter ducks around to open the door, forcing you to look at him. “He’s just focused on his stuff and I’m focused on getting you whipped into shape for this mission. We only have two days.” Once you’re inside and surrounded by the medical crew Tony keeps on staff, he thankfully drops it. You love Peter, you do, but it’s a lot like having a little brother. You can only love them so much before you want to fucking strangle them. Eventually, as the doctor checks to make sure he hasn’t broken your nose, you have to order him away to go study or something. “I’ll join you later,” You promise him as the doctor prods at your tender flesh, “I have an essay due soon.”

That’s another thing that’s been bugging you that Peter surely picked up on. Nearly everybody knew you were taking a course at the local community college, but nobody knew what it was about. You’d wanted to keep it a secret until you told Steve, but the day you had registered he’d flown out for a two-week mission without telling you or saying goodbye. After that, you decided it didn’t really matter if anyone knew what class you were taking, and keeping it a secret sort of spiraled from there. If they wanted to know they could look it up. Maybe it was petty, but you just wanted the class to be over and done with so you could forget that you really only picked it up so you relate to your boyfriend more.

If you can even call Steve your boyfriend anymore. You’re not so sure where you stand and, honestly, you’re really close to giving up on the relationship as a whole but you can’t do that. Before you were dating, you were friends, and Steve… He never gave up on you. Not once. How could you repay him by giving up on your relationship? The one that you thought was The One? Even if it hurts, even if you’re unsure more than sure these days, how could you? Somewhere, though, you know you deserve better. You don’t deserve the sinking, dark feeling that lingers in your gut for most of your days now or the way that you second-guess every move you make - even in the field. It’s dangerous but you can’t do anything to fix it.

You’re too scared. You know that eventually, it will happen, he’ll break up with you, but you’d like to put that day off for as long as possible. To relish in the love he once had for you, how pure and powerful it was. You’re sure that you’ll never experience anything like that again.

Hell, you might never fall in love again.

Those thoughts don’t do anything to help you, though, so you try not to have them. You get clearance from the doctor and get cleaned up as much as you can without taking a full body shower. The idea to go back to your room and take one crosses your mind but you know that Steve’s probably done training, probably heading back for his own shower, and you don’t want to open that can of worms. Instead, you go to the common room and drop into the couch between Peter and Tony. They’re talking about something something science something something, but you pull your stack of books and notebooks out from the shelf underneath the coffee table and continue outlining your essay from where you left off. The assignment was focused on how the end of WW1 changed American life and then how life changed leading up to and during WW2 but that had hit a little too close to home for you, so you’re writing about the racial tension and overall racism of the times. Tony and Peter keep talking over your back and then you hear footsteps heading toward the common room.

You barely look up when they enter - Nat and Bucky - because it’s fine. It’s normal. They’re just two of Steve’s best friends, that’s all, nothing to be jumpy about. You don’t even register that emotional pain that hits when you realize that, yeah, you’re not one of his best friends anymore. You doubt you’re even considered a friend in his book.

You groan and lean back into the couch, bringing your study materials with you. Peter glances over, skimming over your page and a half of shorthand, and gags. “Jesus, can you write like a normal person?”

“Oh, sorry,” You say lazily, not looking up as you continue to scribble in your incomprehensible code, “I do forget that some of us had privacy at home.” You lift your lips just a little bit to let Peter know you’re kidding, looking up at him through your lashes as you slouch next to him. He looks red in the face. “Besides, once you have to start doing mission reports you’ll be begging me to learn my shorthand and use my stenography machine.”

“I keep telling you that I can update that ol’ thing,” Tony draws your attention. For the first time, you realize that Nat and Bucky are on the loveseat looking at you expectantly. Steve is standing in the corner over their shoulder reading a book from the bookshelf in front of him. His back is tense and he looks like he’s not reading, just listening. You force your eyes back to Tony on your right and shake your head.

“No, because then you’d know my shorthand and it makes me too happy to see you spend hours trying to decipher it.” His eyes wander to your essay again, trying to find any patterns that he can use to figure out what the hell you’re writing on anything ever. He’s opening his mouth to make a smart-ass remark that will no doubt lift some of the weight off of your shoulders when another voice speaks up.

“Wow,” Steve doesn’t even look at you even as he says your name sardonically, “Way to be a team player.” Your mind comes to a screeching halt, trying to figure out what the fuck he’s playing at. Even Bucky and Nat look surprised at the cold way he spoke to you, Tony and Peter both gasping from your side. You can’t say anything, throat tight and burning with tears as you stare at your boyfriend with raised eyebrows. What do you say to that? How do you respond? You know it wasn’t a joke because he’s not laughing, not smiling, not even looking up from that fucking book in his hands. You can’t tell if you’re more hurt or embarrassed, but either way, you don’t want to stick around for someone to get the nerve to say something.

Instead of replying, you slam your textbooks shut and bundle everything into your arms. You doubt Steve even notices that you’re making such a hasty retreat but if he does, he doesn’t say a fucking thing. You feel like you’re in high school - practically running through an empty hallway with your notebooks and textbooks pressed to your chest, trying not to cry. It’s ridiculous. You’re a trained assassin, you’re an Avenger, you are strong and powerful and yet… And yet. You’ve given so much of your heart and soul to Steve Rogers that he can knock you down eight pegs without even trying. Without even looking at you. You can’t wait to go on this fucking recon mission, where you can put all of your focus on making sure Peter is doing okay and gathering the intel. Where you can stop thinking about how easily Steve Rogers seems to be pushing you to the side.

You spend the next two days writing your essay, ignoring almost everyone, and working on your essay. On the day of the recon mission, you’re running out the door for your eight a.m lecture, printed essay in hand, and reminding Tony that he promised to pick you up on campus after class for the mission.

You’re lucky that you went, too. You hadn’t counted on the professor making everyone stand up and tell the class the subject of their essays - didn’t realize that it would be twenty-five percent of the grade on the paper. You’ll never understand college professors and the weird shit they do, but the class is informative and entertaining. He goes around the room, starting on the opposite side of you, so you’ll be last. Great.

Several students did their papers on the propaganda of the time, one student was brave and did her essay on the ethical dilemma of the super-soldier serum and eugenics, and most of the other students focused on pop culture and how it changed. When your professor looks at you it’s almost like he’s expecting you to have done nothing but fawn over Steve and Bucky, considering you know them personally. He looks surprised when you clear your throat, stand and say: “I focused on the casual and institutional racism that faced non-white Americans at the time.” You almost preen when he looks impressed and then the shame fills you. It’s just… You want Steve to be proud of you. You want him to congratulate you on going back to school, even if it’s just for one class. You want him to be happy and surprised that he was the inspiration for taking the class.

Though, lately, the class has been more for you than for him. You like learning new things, pushing the boundaries of assignments, making people uncomfortable with the truth of the times you’re studying as told to you by two people who lived it. It’s nice. Normal.

Everyone needs a little bit of normal.

But, honestly, normal is fucking boring. By the time your class is over and you’re handing in your essay it’s like ants are crawling over your skin. A combination of nerves from the upcoming mission, a head full of fog from whatever is happening with Steve, and a little bit of fear at the thought of taking Peter into the field has you bolting for the door the moment your essay is taken from you. You’d worn your tac-suit underneath a pair of baggy sweats and a loose hoodie, so you don’t even bother slowing down as you head toward the car that Tony has waiting for you. He’s in the front seat, grinning at you from underneath his aviators and Peter is driving.

You slip into the backseat without thinking or looking at who’s there, tossing your bag in the back and peeling your hoodie off. “God, Tone, we’re goin’ to die before we even get to the mission with Petey driving.” You toss your hoodie back to join your bag and finally see who’s sitting next to you.

Of course, it’s Steve. He’s looking at you - but not really. He’s looking through you, like he can’t stand that you’re both crammed in the backseat of Tony’s electric car. His gaze catches you and holds you in place. Everything around you goes cold and fuzzy, making you miss Peter’s indignant complaining that he has his license so he should be able to drive… And then Steve scoffs and looks out his window, ignoring you. It stings but you have a job to do. You make some witty retort back to Peter, but it falls flat as you struggle out of your sweats. This is what life is, you think. Relationships aren’t meant to be forever - you learned that at a young age.

Until your accident at fifteen, you had watched your parents run out of helium, their relationship expanding and cooling in arguments, in days spent not talking, in trips to your grandparents without the other, in passive-aggressive computer searches for divorce attorneys left open for anyone to see. Then, after you were trapped between those machines - after you spent hour after agonizing hour with electricity pressing between your atoms, being torn apart and rebuilt as a young god - after that day you watched them expand against each other before the neutron core of their relationship collapsed on itself and the resulting supernova sent you to the streets. But then Fury found you. Then Tony, then Nat, then Steve.

Your parents exploded out from each other and the shockwaves ruined your life. At least now, your relationship with Steve is ending silently. There’s no explosion, no collapse, no rapid expansion to take over your cosmos. Your relationship with Steve is simply approaching the event horizon, where it will hang in the air until one of you takes the final step and you both become frozen, two collapsing objects on opposite sides of the universe. Maybe that’s what you already are. You feel so far away from him in the back of Tony’s car - like he’s eons and light-years away from you - and you feel so cold. Frozen, down to the bone. It makes you stiff in your replies to Tony and Peter, slow on the uptake when the car pulls up to the quinjet, nearing stasis and unable to respond when Nat asks if you’re okay.

Finally, you turn to look at her, nodding. “Fine,” You clear your throat, “Been a rough day.” You do your best to smile at her, but your face feels heavy. Your chest feels cold and tight, making you worry about your performance on the upcoming mission. When Peter shakes his head next to you, discreetly telling Nat not to press, you’re focused on Steve and the electricity humming in the most base part of your body.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. You turn away and force yourself to smile, throwing a weak and numb arm over Peter’s shoulders. “Are you ready for this, Pete?” You jostle him back and forth, leading him toward the sitting area behind the cockpit. “Gonna get your ass kicked?”

“Please,” He shoves you off, nervously laughing, “Not with the skills you’ve taught me.” He mimics throwing webs, making hissing noises under his breath, and you bark out a laugh, shaking your head.

“You’re payin’ my medical bills when I have to save your ass, Spidey.” You shake your head and strap in next to the wall, Peter taking the seat to your right. Tony, from the aisle across from you, points a thick finger your way.

“You don’t pay medical bills anymore,” He waggles his finger, “So you’ll just have to make him do your homework for a week.”

“Mister Stark!”

“He’ll have to earn shorthand to do your essays,” Nat chimes in from between Bucky and Steve, who are both doing their best to not look at you - or anyone really. “You willing to share that with him?”

You lean back in your seat and jab at Peter with your elbow. “Hell no, so I guess Spider-Boy better do his best.” The arachnid in question grumbles, crossing his arms and slouching in his seat.

“No pressure, right?” He complains, “Not like I’m already nervous or anything.”

“You’ll do fine, kid,” Bucky pipes up, drawing your eyes back to Steve, “It’s goin’ to be a cakewalk.”

“Don’t jinx it, Barnes,” You warn half-heartedly, tucking in on yourself, “We need this to be easy.” From the look on his face - everyone’s face, really - you know that they heard you loud and clear when you were really saying I need this to be easy.

After an uneasy laugh from Bucky, a claustrophobic silence settles over you all as the jet begins to take off. You’re in for an hour ride and plan to spend it going over battle plans with Peter when harsh whispering catches your ear. It’s Bucky and Steve nearly crushing Nat between them until she gets up and sits across from Peter, rolling her eyes. Still, you try your best to run him through the actions you both had planned - the names, the setups you needed to execute them, everything. If something happens to Peter, you’ll never forgive yourself.

And then, cutting through your soft promptings to Peter and his equally soft replies, Bucky’s voice. “Leave it, Steve. Until after this mission.” Even Tony looks up from his tablet, curiosity piqued. Their faces are both red, set hard and angry at each other and your stomach drops. What the hell is going on that Steve ‘Till The End Of The Line Rogers is fighting with Bucky You And Me, Pal Barnes? You must shift, or lean too far into Steve’s eyesight, because for the first time in what feels like years he is looking directly at you - and seeing you, too. It makes your pulse jump and, almost instinctively, you want to reach out and ground yourself on the rubber of the seat underneath you.

You don’t get the chance, though, because Steve speaks. “No, why should I? This is clearly affecting the team.” He’s still looking - glaring - at you like you’ve done something wrong. “What’s the point of waiting? I’ve been waiting to talk about this.”

“Bo, I don’t think this is the time,” Bucky looks over his shoulder at you, then, and you know what’s coming. You know that it’s time, that Steve is about to break up with you in front of your teammates. Your friends. Your family. You steel yourself for the anguish you’re about to feel and then jerk your chin out, hardening your resolve.

“Buck, it’s fine. If Steve wants to address something, he can.”

Natasha says your name, a low warning over the hum of the quinjet. “I think he should wait.”

“Well, I’m not goin’ to wait!” Steve unbuckles himself and stands, “I have tried waiting, and look at where that has gotten me.” He puts his hands on his hips and puffs out a breath. You unbuckle and stand, too, unsure of where this is going. “You need to,” He holds one hand out, pointing at you while his voice shakes. You notice his hand is shaking, too, but fractionally. If you didn’t know Steve as well as you do you may have never noticed it. “You need to get it together.”

“I need to get it together?” You question, eyebrows nearly hitting the ceiling with how fast they shoot up. You’re not totally sure you’ve heard him right because what do you have to get together? The broken shards of your relationship? The information and research for your final paper? The awful way you’ve let yourself be treated for what seems like forever?

“You heard me,” Steve says, at the same time Bucky leans his head back and groans deep in his chest. “What? Someone had to say it.”

“We should wait for this,” Nat speaks up again, but lifelessly. She knows now that you and Steve are both on the warpath, neither of you are going to stop. (That’s also why the two of you work together as a couple so well. Very rarely are you both so worked up about something that you can’t back down, so the other is always there to meet you halfway and get you back to earth.)

“No, no, no,” You say, near hysterically, “No, he wants to do this now? Before a mission? Instead of the fuckin’ weeks we had to hash whatever crawled up his ass and died out? Be my guest. He’s already dragged everyone into this by treating me like a pariah.” You’re not sneering, but your teeth are gritted so tightly together you can hear them scraping and feel a tension headache beginning to bloom in your temples. Bucky looks… Almost incredulous at your statement. Like putting the blame on Steve is a dick move or something.

“Oh, so I’m the bad guy here?” Steve is curling his lip, glaring at you. There’s something behind his eyes, but he’s buried it so deep that you can’t reach it and figure out what it is. “I’m the bad guy, right. Right, right, right.” He scoffs, shakes his head, and then he’s running his fingers through his hair like he really can’t believe what you’re saying to him.

“Well, what else am I supposed to think?” You throw your hands out to the side and let them slap back down on your thighs. “You ignore me, you make me feel like shit, you talk down to me like I’m some insignificant foot soldier. How else am I supposed to take that, Steve?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe ask me what’s wrong? Maybe ask me why I’m acting like this, instead of ignoring all of your problems like a child?” He mirrors your moments, but the sound his hands make when they hit the outside of his suit is more powerful than yours. Fueled by anger, you think. Anger and whatever the hell was in the serum Erskine pumped into Steve.

“Ask you?” You repeat, near-hysterical, “Ask you? Oh yeah, let me get right on that. Hey, Mister Rogers? Mister Captain America? Mister Ignores-His-Partner-For-God-Knows-Why? Hey, just why are you doin’ that?” You’re surprised that you’ve said something so snotty, but you don’t back down. (Steve looks surprised, too, and Bucky has stood up next to his friend like he’s about to start berating you as well. At least he looks more cautious about it, like he’s not totally sure that this fight should be happening.)

The more surprising part of your fight is how fast it’s shut down. Tony and Nat stand at the same time and exchange a glance like they’ve surprised each other. “That’s enough,” Tony starts.

Nat cuts him off. “I don’t care if you fight this one out instead of talking, but if you do it before this recon mission you two are going to blow it. Do you understand me?” She looks dangerous, the sharp edge of a knife spiraling through the air. You force yourself to look away from her, from Tony, from Bucky, from Steve. She’s right. You know she’s right - especially on this mission. Peter is there, going to be in real danger even though there’s not supposed to be one Hydra agent in a four-mile radius. You have to clear your mind and focus on protecting him.

Steve seems to think the same thing because he stands down. When you watch him collapse in on himself, Bucky’s arms around his shoulders, into the little quinjet seats your everything aches. Heart, lungs, eyes - everything. Even though you don’t know what’s going on, what could have possibly happened to make your relationship sink this quickly and out of the blue, you still love him. He’s still The One for you. You still want to be the one to comfort him and make him feel whole when he’s struggling.

But you can’t. You can’t and it kills you.

The heat of battle makes a lot of things fade into the background. Important things like why the fuck are there Hydra agents here? and Steve is going to break up with you when you get back on the jet and Tony swore on the fucking limited edition AC/DC vintage tour poster he has in his office that this would be an easy in/easy out information mission. None of that matters, though, because you’re in deep shit. There are seventeen of them, all primed to the teeth with weapons made to take your team down permanently.

You’re practically glued to Peter, calling out commands and plans for him to initiate. It’s when all of your plans fall through that you take a hit from a heavy fist on purpose, hitting the ground hard. “Plan F, Spidey, Plan F!” You cover the instruction with a groan and then you’re back on your feet, working your way toward him.

“Plan F?” Tony says, somewhere above you in his suit. Your comms crackle ominously as another heat-seeking grenade is launched, interfering with the radio waves your tech relies on. You don’t worry about it, because you know Tony is on it. He’s your eyes in the sky.

Peter is the one who answers his question, watching your close hand-to-hand tilt out of your favor briefly. “Plan Fuck It, Mister Stark.” He grunts as he webs up a Hydra agent, jerking him away from where he was about to slip a knife up and under Natasha’s kevlar. You finally drop the guy in front of you, ignoring Steve’s disappointed Language! and toss one of your knives toward Nat for her to use. Tony is still laughing in your ear, wheezing as he drops down and snags the rifle from one of the snipers and then takes back off.

What your little protégé failed to mention about Plan F is that it’s not just chaos, but controlled chaos. You let loose, letting a soft current cover every inch of your skin as Peter switches to his conductive webbing and takes special care to not web any of his allies. Except for you - if you’re in the way and he catches you in a web it doesn’t matter because you’re you, alive with electricity that drops the men that get caught in the web, too. You rip out of the webs and turn the current off when one of your teammates gets too close.

More Hydra agents are pouring out of the woods, topping out their numbers around twenty-five. That’s twenty-five too many in your opinion, especially when you can see Peter getting tired, his anxiety spiking, his moves having more and more hesitation behind them. You need to get this over with quickly, but you don’t have the options to do that. Steve, Bucky, and Nat are really the heavy-hitters - you, Pete, and Tony are the only ones without serums despite all of your individual abilities. Desperately you reach out for a web that’s still connected to Peter’s arms, pulling him out of the way of a baton that’s about to come down on the back of his neck.

The baton the agent is wielding glints in the coming dusk, freezing you as Peter scrambles past you with a quick apology. You’ve seen that before - seen it, felt it, know it like the back of your hand. There’s no way that you could ever forget that weapon. The man stumbles when his hit doesn’t connect but then rights himself and searches for a new target.

A long, black baton that splits into two prongs at the end is heavy in his hand. Electricity crackles between the bulbs at the end, flashing in the setting sun and your memories. The man only has one, but if it was hooked up to a machine, spinning. If there were four, five, six. If you were pinned between them, screaming in the pain as they rewrote your DNA… You’ve only felt it once, but you’ll never forget it.

And now, you’ll taste it again. On purpose this time. The man holding the stun baton is going for Steve’s back - his strong back, the one that protects people, the one that holds the weight of the world, the one that lays in your bed, the one you see whipping out of rooms as you’re entering just so that he doesn’t have to look at you - and you can’t let that happen. It only takes ten amps to kill a regular human, but you know those things are cranked up to twenty minimum. You don’t want to see how many amps of current it will take to stop Steve’s heart. You’re between the baton and Steve before you can think about what you’re doing or what comes next, the hard bulbs settling unyielding into your side and cranking out maximum power for maximum damage as soon as the current is connected and able to flow from one bulb to the other.

The pain hits you and your throat catches on it. It burns through your body, setting everything on fire - your chest hurts as your heart protests the electrons and then your powers kick in, sweeping them into your very atoms and cells. You’re a live wire now, ears humming and body thrumming with power you’ve only dreamed of. It hurts, and it burns, and you feel tears rising in your eyes because you’re back there - back begging for death or for life or for God and god at the same time - but then it’s over. The man sees that you’re not seizing up, not dropping dead in front of him, and he takes three steps back.

It’s not far enough.

You’ve only felt like this once before - right after you were unhooked from the machine that changed your life and brought you to your new family. You remember how you looked when you were put in front of a mirror with all of the pent up electricity circling your body - how your eyes were filled to the brim and dripping with bright and blue electricity, the way it was jumping across your body, how you didn’t need to breathe because your body was fully saturated with pure, unadulterated power. You wonder if you look like that now and assume you do because you can see the bright blue reflecting in the terrified eyes of the Hydra agent.

Your suit, unlike everyone else’s, is not grounded. It’s metal, metal, metal. You’re made to conduct, born for it, and the earth beneath you comes alive with bright white as you release all of the energy, the power, surges down and out. You’re practiced. You can reach out and feel the synapses and neurons of every human being in the clearing, know exactly where your teammates are standing, and know exactly how to target everything but them and the pitiful amount of electricity their brains carry. You grin, something truly feral and unhinged, and you can see the fear in the Hydra agent. Then, you let go.

You know that everyone is going to be pissed. (Maybe not everyone.) You’re not built for this, not made to take down nearly twenty fucking people at once. As you let go, you feel what they feel. The seizing muscles, the stopping of their hearts, the inside of their bodies crisping against their bones. At that moment, that delicious moment, you see the universe.

You become God. You become everything - your mother and your father and God and god and anyone else who’s watching your life from the ether. You become the judge, jury, and executioner of souls that you don’t know from Adam. You become lightning, and thunder, and exposed nerves of the cosmos at the same time. The world bends to your will and you relish in it, taking that power in your fist and wielding it to protect the man you’ll love for the rest of your life and the family that you’ve made. You will stop at nothing to end this, even if it means turning yourself inside out to do it.

You damn near do turn yourself inside out too, but that doesn’t matter, does it? The blood spilling from your ears, nose, and eyes feels like heaven. It’s hot, and thick, and it’s proof of the power that your body holds. You’re a temple and a sanctuary, a war-room and a bunker, a field of flowers and a sun-dry desert. It does not matter if Steve doesn’t love you at that moment, because you are love and hate wrapped into one package. You are everything and nothing, spread thin at the beginning and the end of time.

And then none of that is true. You are just… You. Standing in a clearing, surrounded by twenty-something dead Hydra agents and your terrified, terrified family. It hurts to breathe and you can taste blood in your mouth, but that’s an afterthought. Steve is still standing behind you, but he is alive. That is what matters.

This is what love is, you think.

Pain and pleasure.

Even if he leaves you, you will always love him.

Pain and pleasure.

You’re weak at the knees when he finally turns to see you - and you’re a sight. Struggling to stand, fingertips blackened with soot but not burnt, blood pouring from your nose, ears, eyes… You look like death, but you feel like life. Someone says something behind you - Peter, maybe? Or maybe Tony, in your comms? - but you don’t hear it. Everything tunnels out, your weak knees finally collapsing as you keel backward.

Steve bears down upon you almost immediately. You’re halfway to unconsciousness when he wraps you up in his arms, keeping you from falling in with the pile of bodies around you. He’s saying your name, harsh and soft and then in a voice like he’s ordering you to wake up. You loll about as he drops you down onto a patch of clear grass, hands searching your body for wounds. When he skims over your side, where the baton has burnt through your suit and your flesh, you surge back toward being able to have cohesive thoughts. The pain brings you back, hands wrapping around Steve’s arm and calling out his name. “Steve! Fuck, that hurts!”

“Honey,” He breathes, “Fuck, we have to get you back to the jet.” His jaw ticks, hair dirty and loose from its normal style. “Why’d you do that?” Steve doesn’t wait for an answer from you, ordering Peter to web something up to carry you over your protests.

“I’m fine,” You argue, only slurring slightly, “I feel fine.” But you’re going to let Nat and Bucky load you up on the webbed stretcher anyway because it’s the first time Steve has cared for you in a long time. You want to relish in this moment, the way that he didn't say your name but called you honey.

Well, and because Natasha slides a thumb across her neck over Steve’s shoulder in a silent threat.

You groan when Bucky accidentally grabs your calf where there is an absolutely awful stab wound, but you wave off his apology. “How could you have known?” To be honest, you hadn’t even known it was there until his Vibranium hand was slipping against it and sending shockwaves of pain through you. Peter is next to you the whole time that you’re being carried back to the jet - Tony staying back to begin scanning the bodies of the Hydra agents for the information you need and any other information they may be carrying. The poor kid is nearly at a breakdown, so you reach out to him and shake his arm when his fingers twine with yours. “Chill out, kid, I don’t know how you got it into your head that this is your fault, but it sure isn’t.” He sniffles, but hands back with Steve as Bucky and Nat get you situated in the small medical room of the jet. They transfer you and then make to leave, only Bucky hesitating near the door.

“Stevie’s goin’ to be here soon and… I don’t know what made you do what you did but you have’t explain it to him. He’s bendin’ over backwards to figure it out, and we don’t have’a clue. Came out’a nowhere.” He looks at you for another moment before shaking his head and stepping out of the room. Your head is spinning, partially from what Bucky just said and partially from the pain and stimulus of electricity. You wait there, then, because this is it. This is the event horizon. You wait there, eyes closed, until you hear footsteps approach the med room, and then the door slowly opens. Steve says your name, holding all the finality and weight of an atomic bomb. You don’t open your eyes until he swings a chair next to the stretcher and lays a hand on your calf.

“You don’t have to do this,” You finally say, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to watch him. “I know that you don’t want to.” Steve only scoffs and begins to wash the stab wound using a packet of soap and a water bottle. You say his name twice before he looks at you, something between hate and hurt curdling into a glaze over his eyes that stops you in your tracks.

“Just let me do this. It is the least that you can do.” His words are painful and stilted, like it’s taking force to push them past his teeth. You lay back down and close your eyes, content to just feel the pain of Steve beginning to stitch you up and then dress the wound before you feel the pain of Steve leaving you like you knew he always would. (Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his.)

When he’s done he sits back and puts his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He heaves a heavy sigh and then shakes it off, “I’ll dress your burn, and then we’ll talk.” And normally, yes, you would agree but this is too important. You want to get it over with so you can lick your wounds metaphorically and dress them literally - and then you want to go home, you want to pack your bags, and you want to disappear and remake your life somewhere else.

Some far-off place where everyone you know won’t take one look at your face and know that you’re still painfully, deeply in love with Steve Rogers, end of your semester be damned. Family you’ve made be damned. You can’t sit around and be in love with him like a neon sign on a dark highway while it’s painfully clear that he hasn’t had a sign on his highway in a long time.

So instead of agreeing, you swing your legs over the stretcher and swallow your flinch when the burn pulls tight. Steve opens his mouth to argue but you give him a tight-lipped shake of your head and his jaw snaps shut. “No,” You say, voice not giving in to the emotion swirling in your chest. “I have let this go on long enough.”

It’s the wrong thing to say because Steve fucking scoffs again and looks away from you. “One day was long enough.” He says, cutting straight to your core. Okay, ouch. You take a deep breath and shake your head to try and bite back the tears that are inevitably rising in your eyes. If one day was long enough for him to realize he doesn’t want to be with you, why did he let it go on for nearly a full year? Why did he spend so long leading you on, pulling you by a thread before garroting your heart with it? What was the point?

“If you want to leave me, just say that,” You reply harshly, standing and wobbling away from him. He just watches you go, watches the way you struggle past the lead weights your muscles have become, the way you’re starting to feel the stab wound on your leg, the way the skin on your burn is beginning to blister and only just now losing its heat. He just watches you, where the Steve that loved you once upon a time might have helped. You turn your back on him, hands on your hips so that you can hide the way that you’re crying and your hands are shaking.

“If I want to leave you? If?” He says. You hear the scrape of his chair as he stands, “I think after what you’ve done, it’s not an if, sweetheart.” The way he says it tastes like iron. Steve never calls you sweetheart like he never calls you by your name. It’s always honey, lover, dovie. You don’t turn to face him because you’re struggling to keep yourself above water. “I spent so long thinkin’, wonderin’, askin’ myself - God damnit, will you look at me?” You turn slowly, not because you’ve never heard Steve speak like that but because his voice is desperate and raw. When you turn, you’re not sure what to expect. Maybe him, standing in front of you, broad-shouldered and disappointed like in those PSA’s he had to film once. Maybe he’d be angry, hands clenched at his sides and eyes narrowed like he gets in meetings when he doesn’t agree with something but he’s out-voted. But you never expect to see him crying, lip wobbling, folded in on himself like a young boy instead of the strong, invincible man you’ve come to love.

He looks so different.

It hits you, then, that you’re not looking at Steve Rogers. Not really. He's not Steve Rogers, not Captain America, not even Captain Rogers. You see him as he was - before America spat it’s untruths all over him and injected him with a serum that changed who he was, is, will be. He’s not the able-bodied man that you know, not strong and unreachable, not the heartthrob that overshadows the team during press events. He’s not America’s Darling, not really. Not where it counts.

You’re looking at Stevie Rogers. Stevie Rogers who, for all intents and purposes, was supposed to die before he made it out of toddlerhood or soon thereafter. Stevie Rogers who the doctors said wasn’t supposed to survive. Stevie Rogers who grew up sickly, rattling painful breaths and never playing ball with the neighborhood boys. Who couldn’t walk until middle school when he got his braces off. Who never had a partner because Bucky, strong and handsome and tall Bucky, was always deemed the better option. Who believed in his country so much that he tried to sneak into the second world war, subjected himself to a painful medical procedure so that he could change his very DNA to be what the world wanted him to be.

Captain Steve Rogers. Captain America. Strong, blond, patriotic, resilient.

You’re sure that if men don’t want to go to therapy now, in the modern age, they certainly didn’t want to go in the ‘40s. So where did that leave Steve, your Steve, standing in front of you and looking small, and broken, and sad, and alone? Did they expect him to take his new, taller, working body and run with it? Did they not think about how he would lose a part of himself in the process? How did they expect him to go from disabled to abled without some disconnect?

You think about the You That You Were Before and the You That You Are Now, and how you lost a part of yourself when the accident gave you your powers and how you’d lose yourself if someone figured out a way to take them away. You Before formed your identity around being normal - living in a shitty home with shitty parents, sure, but normal - and You Now form your identity around your powers, your team, your job, your love. If you lost those things, what did you have left? Who would you be?

When Steve lost his identity and became everything that America wanted everyone to think that America was, what did he have left? Sure, he could tell himself that he represents America - strong and patriotic and just - but it must have conflicted with everything he knew about himself before that. You know that disabled people now know that American society is unjust, unfit for them with abled people not willing to make room to allow them to thrive. You can only imagine what it was really like for Steve in the ‘20s and ‘30s and ‘40s. What he had to do just to survive. (Medical experimentation, you remind yourself. Did they know it wouldn’t kill him? Did they know his body wouldn’t rip itself apart with the new sinewy muscle they were packing on? Did they care? Or was he just a body they saw as broken? A project to fix? To turn him into something more like them and call it patriotism?)

You shake your head at him, still filled with despair, and try to figure out what he’s talking about. “Stevie,” You start, pet name easily replacing what you had been calling him because it’s not fair to shoe-horn him into a body that doesn’t feel like his own. You wonder if he still expects the bone-grinding pain that he used to tell you would happen when it rains. He raises a hand, a strong and family hand, shaking his head.

“I just need to know why I wasn’t enough for you,” Steve looks sad, slouching in on himself like he’s expecting to get his ass handed to him in another alleyway and hope Bucky is there to save him. “I need to know why you wouldn’t just break up with me if you wanted to see other people so badly.” You suck in a shocked breath because, okay, that’s not what you were expecting. Between that and the paradigm shift you’ve had on how Steve must view his identity, body, and self, you’re stunned. Steve continues like he doesn’t even register that you look shocked and pale and now you’re crying because he thinks you’re cheating on him? “And I get it. I get it. You have no idea how much I understand. If I were you, I wouldn’t want me either, okay?”

You cut him off there because what the actual God damn fuck is he talking about? “No, Stevie, I’m not cheating on you.” You shake your head again and this, your statement, lights a fire in him. He still looks like Stevie rather than Steve, but there’s anger there. You imagine that’s what it might have looked like moments before he got himself in trouble back before he was serumed. “I’m not.”

“Oh, yeah?” He challenges, jaw ticking and chin jerking up, “Oh, yeah? You can’t lie to me. I know, okay? The act is up, it’s over, I know, okay? You can stop pretending.”

“Steve, I do not fucking know what you’re talking about but I”m not cheating on you!” You raise your voice, not really angry but more out of necessity. You need to get it out of his head that he is anything less than everything you want - that you could possibly love anyone more than you love him.

“I wanted to clarify something for you,” Steve says like he’s reading an old script from when he was just a beefy, red/white/blue stage prop for the American military, “I am excited to meet with you, but there are some rules. Do not talk about Captain Steve Rogers. I don’t want to hear about him,” As he continues to recite something that has clearly hurt him, you go lax. You know exactly what’s happened - your fists unclench, your jaw drops a little bit, and it feels like someone has gutted you, “I think it is wise to keep work and pleasure separate, and it’s a rule I will enforce heavily. I look forward to seeing you again.” He’s sneering at the end, tears falling down his ruddy cheeks.

“Steve,” You try again, but he cuts you off.

“Am I just work for you?” His voice is shaking more than you thought possible, and so are his hands. You’ve never seen Steve so off-kilter, so thrown, and it breaks your heart that yes, technically, you’re the cause of this. Before this, before this horrible misunderstanding, your relationship with Steve was the paragon of trust so neither of you cared if the other read emails or texts. You remember the email - the email from your fucking college professor - because it had made you so angry that he’d referred to your relationship with Steve as something as simple and base as just pleasure - like you could even put words to the galaxy of a relationship you had with Steve - that you’d gone to the gym to work off some of that irritation. You hadn’t wanted to take it out on anyone accidentally. When you came back from the gym, Steve was gone on that two-week mission that he’d left on without saying goodbye.

Oh, God. You feel sick to your stomach as the paradigm of the way that Steve’s been treating you shifts violently to the left. You have to physically hold yourself up and try to speak past the lump in your throat. Steve looks… Brokenly smug. Like he knows he’s right, but he’d rather gnaw his own legs off than be right.

“No,” You croak, “No, Steve, you’ve got it all wrong.” You want to reach for him, but it feels like the room is closing in on you. You’re second-guessing everything now - especially what you’ve just said. How many people said the exact same thing to him pre-serum because they said something meant for Bucky to him? How many times did he hear that when he was getting a new diagnosis, hoping for the best? How many times had his own mother said it to him when he told her something someone had said, fresh-faced and not yet used to the way that abled people sometimes treated disabled people? You think you might be sick. “That email was from my professor, Steve. I’m not cheating on you, I’d never.” He laughs darkly and sits back down in his chair, head in his hands again. You try to gather the strength to move toward him when you see his shoulders shaking, a telltale sign that he’s crying.

“A professor,” He says with a watery laugh, “Right.”

Finally, you realize that he needs you, needs to know you love him, that you’d do anything for him. You can iron out the kinks later - figure out why he didn’t want to come to talk to you past the original hurt, why he treated you so coldly, why he didn’t trust that you wouldn’t do this to him - but now, you need to show him that you’re here. That you choose him. That you’ll always choose him.

You make your way to him and set a shaking hand on his shoulder. For a brief second you think he’s going to shake you off but then Steve’s hand shoots up and latches onto where your hand is resting, dipping his head to press against your arm. “Stevie, please,” You say, unsure of what you’re asking him to do, “I picked up a class, just one, and it’s… I picked it up for you, it’s about the ‘30s and ‘40s and…” He looks up at you and he looks so broken - face ruddy and wet with tears, lip wobbling, chest heaving as he tries to not sob. His brows are knit and he looks confused, “I just wanted to be able to understand you better. You had to leave so much of yourself at the door when you joined the Avengers, had to leave so much of yourself in the ice… In Erskine’s lab… Stevie, I just wanted you to be able to be you when you’re with me. I wanted to know the you that you were before you became Captain America.” Your voice is shaking, knees knocking together, and honestly? You feel like you might blackout.

“What?” He rasps, “What?”

“He sent that email because too many kids signed up for his class thinking that they’d be able to look at pictures of you and Buck for a semester. Emailed me directly because he knows we’re…” You choke on your words, shaking your head because you’re not even sure there’s a we anymore, “Because he knows I’m on the team. Didn’t want me walking in and making his class about just a few years in the ‘30s and ‘40s rather than the culture of the time.” You don’t know how else to explain it to him, but Steve isn’t saying anything - practically isn’t moving or breathing- so you continue to try and explain what’s really happening as best as you can, “And - and that email made me so angry because he singled me out, didn’t email anyone else about it, and I left to try and work some of that out; I didn’t want to take it out on you, or let it spoil - let it spoil… But when I came back from the gym, you were gone. You were gone for two weeks and I didn’t know why.” You’re crying harder now and pretty sure that within the next sixty seconds you’re going to collapse if you don’t sit down.

Steve shakes his head, still looking like he doesn’t understand. “What?” He says for a third time, “A class? A college class?”

“I just wanted to feel closer to you,” You confess, “Just wanted to understand a fraction of your life without making you do the heavy liftin’ and teachin’ me. Shouldn’t have’t do that,” You’re sobbing, barely biting out your words as you realize that something you’ve done to strengthen your relationship with Steve has destroyed it, “Shouldn’t have to explain a whole different time just to feel loved, Stevie. Should be able to be with someone who understands without you havin’ to explain.” You’re not sure you can say Peggy’s name out loud, and you hope he understands what you’re saying without making you actually say it, “Should’a been able to have love with someone who knew, and I know I’m nothin’ compared to what you should’a had, but I want to be. I want to be in the same ballpark instead’a watchin’ from the stands.” You wipe your face with your free hand and look away from Steve when he stands in front of you. You don’t want to see the look on his face - what he’s thinking about what you’ve said.

He says your name and you glance at him, but his expression stops him in your tracks. Where Steve looked broken and hurt and fuming with anger to hide the anguish, now he looks stricken. You shake your head, “No, no. I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty-”

“You think that I care about whether or not you can understand the ‘40s?” He cuts you off, hands moving to curl around your biceps, “You think that I care whether or not you can relate to a time in history when you weren’t even thought of?”

“Of course I love you. I love you more than anything in this world, but you shouldn’t have to not care, Steve,” You argue, shaking your head, “That’s what I’m trying to say. You should be with someone who understands without explanation. I just wanted to give that to you - didn’t know that this would happen.”

“I should be with someone who loves me,” He argues back, “If you love me, that’s all that matters. My past be damned.”

“But your past is you!” You try to pull away from Steve, but he anchors you there. You’re dizzy from being so close to him after this long, but also because of how many different twists this situation has taken. You can barely keep up with how bad your communication with Steve has become - barely keep up with how you need to fix it, or how to fix it. “Your past is you,” You repeat when you realize that Steve isn’t going to let you go. “And you shouldn’t have to give that up so that someone will love you.”

“But you love me,” He says desperately, ducking his head so that he’s nearly nose to nose with you, “You love me, right?”

“More than anything,” You say, closing your eyes and relishing in the feeling of being so close to Steve, “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I don’t care about what anyone else thinks, or anyone else. I’ll even stop goin’ to class if you want me to - Steve, I just can’t do this anymore. Can’t do this thing where you don’t talk to me about what’s botherin’ you.” You’re choking up, barely whispering, but you know he hears you. YOu can feel his warm breath on your face, “Nearly fuckin’ killed me.”

“I thought it was goin’ to be easier,” He breathes, nose bumping yours, “When you eventually decided to leave me for him. Thought I was savin’ myself some trouble.” You can practically taste his tears as they fall again, “Buck and Nat tried to tell me that you weren’t - that you wouldn’t - but I just couldn’t believe them.”

When you open your eyes, his are closed. This close to him you can see the soft freckles that are blooming over his eyelids, his soft eyelashes kissing his cheekbones. You can feel him breathing, feel him nearly pressed against you in a way that feels hauntingly nostalgic and terrifyingly fleeting; like you’ll be able to feel his warmth for years to come, but he’s about to disappear. “That’s okay,” You finally whisper, “It’s okay that you didn’t believe them. That you thought what you thought. It’s okay.” He shakes his head against yours, opening his mouth to protest, but you refuse to let him feel guilty about feeling this way - you have plenty of time to sit him down and talk to him candidly about the way he acted because of these feelings, anyway. “If I would have been in your place I’m not sure I would have believed them.”

“I treated you so badly…” He shifts and wraps his arms around you. It’s almost immediate - you relax into his arms and wind yours around his waist, keeping him pulled against you as he presses his face into your neck and you press your cheek against his chest. “So awfully.”

“We’ll talk about that, okay? But later. Right now you just need to know that I love you, Steve. I love you more than I can tell you - more than I can express.” You want to kiss him, but you can’t. Can’t kiss him, you need to wait for him to kiss you, for him to close that gap and show you that he still loves you like you love him. “We’ll have to have a talk, a long and hard conversation about this, Stevie, but for now… For now, I’m just content to be with you, okay? MIssed you so much.”

He sighs, nose pressing against yours again. “Missed you too, dovie. Missed you more than I can even say,” His voice breaks as his lips brush yours. Your relationship is not without its flaws and problems - Steve’s actions when he thought you were cheating on him are proof of that and, well, the fact that you didn’t realize what was happening, why it was happening, or a large part of your boyfriend’s psychological makeup having an impact on your relationship while it went unknown by you… There is a lot of work for the two of you to do, a lot of work to do, a lot of communication to be done… But you’d do it all for Steve, over and over again.

When he presses forward and presses his lips gently to yours, you know that he’ll do it all for you, over and over again, too.

[httpiastri]

award show rendezvous – ln4

when the f1 grid is forced to attend yet another boring award show, lando finds a way to have some fun

genre: smut.... i guess

pairing: mercedes driver!reader x lando norris

warnings: smut.....

requested?: yes! thank you for requesting 😁 (requests are still open!)

author's note: hello hello, i'm very much into the driver!reader thing so thank you for requesting this. also big thanks to all requests you've sent in recently, i love to see it !!! <3 hope you enjoy this, i wrote it today on my walk..... ppl must've thought i was a maniac for laughing hysterically at my phone while walking oops (worth it)

this is kind of a part 2 to this, but you can read it on its own too!

f1 masterlist

18+ content below, minors dni!

his lips crash against yours before you can even lock the door. he’s been too patient for too long now, he reckons; being forced to watch you with the other drivers, dancing around, chatting away, the regular stuff – all while still sending teasing glances his way every once in a while – was not fair.

he wants to – no, he needs to– run his hands over your body, to feel your lips on his, to make sure you know exactly who you belong to.

hence the text he sent you, telling you to meet him outside the bathroom in the venue. when he arrived, he didn’t waste any time before pulling you in with him, slamming the door shut behind you.

"a little needy today, are we?" you ask as he places open mouthed kisses down the side of your neck. his hands have a firm grip on your hips as he holds you back up against the door.

"it’s all your fault," he says against your neck, the vibrations sending a tingling sensation down your body. "for dancing with my enemies, for looking at me like that…"

"i’m sorry," one of your hands come down to his neck, pulling him up to face you again. "but i think we’re both enjoying where this is going, no?"

his kisses are rougher this time, not wasting a single moment before his tongue is pressing against yours. you drape your arms around his neck, humming against his lips as you feel him pull up the material of your dress, letting it pool around your waist. you’re panting heavily once you pull away, your head already dizzy from the feeling of lando’s hands moving further up your thighs. you lean your head onto his shoulder, a curseword leaving your lips when one of his fingers dips inside your panties and drags along your folds.

"so wet already, hm?" he chuckles. "who made you this wet?"

you sigh at the feeling of his finger sliding in where you need him the most, your arms around his neck tightening. "you. only you."

he moves in and out of you almost painfully slowly, and the speed decreases even more when he adds another finger. he’s unbearable.

"lando…" you whine, a shudder spreading through your body when he adds another finger to stretch you out. "please… i want you…"

he halts his actions, and you immediately pull your head back to look at him. he smiles – he’s got you right where he wants you, wrapped around his finger.

in more than one sense.

"are you sure?" he asks, and you nod almost too quickly. "you’re sure you wouldn’t rather be out there with george?"

you groan. of course he would go there. "you're the only man on my mind," you press a kiss to his lips. "don't change that."

his quick fingers unbuckles his pants and drags your panties down to your feet in just a moment, before pulling out his dick from his own underwear. he gets a condom from his pants, unwraps it hastily and rolls it on himself before his hands reach down to the back of your thighs. you get the hint, letting him hoist you up to wrap your legs around his hips. one of your hands reach for his hair, pulling on it tightly as he pushes into you.

"shit..." you say, your eyes rolling back at the stretch. the contrast between of his innocent thumbs drawing figures into the inside of your thighs and the way he's thrusting into you leaves you in a hazy state, feeling both so lustful and so loving at the same time.

when he hits a specific spot, your head falls back against the door as you let out a loud moan. "keep quiet," lando snickers. "you wouldn't want anyone to hear, would you?" you're too obsessed with the feeling that you can't answer him. "or maybe you want george to hear? maybe he'll come in and help you out-"

"fuck off."

the hearty laugh bubbling from lando's chest is loud, and he leans in to kiss your neck apologetically. "i'm sorry." his lips move up to right under your ear. "i just thought his name could help rile you up."

it takes everything in you to not get mad at him right now. you can't have him stop his actions now, not when it feels this good, not when you are so close. lando speeds up his pumps, lips grazing your skin while his hands move along your legs and up to your butt. just as you feel yourself approaching your high,

there's a knock on the door.

your wide eyes meet his and he stops his movements as a voice booms through the door. "lando, mate? are you in there?" the voice belongs to george – of course. "they're about to give out your award, maybe you should hurry up..."

"oh my god."

[kyrlazasmorcota]

Who The Kitsune Is

HEYA! I'm Kyrla Zasmorcota! I'm just putting up an intro, a fair warning, while I'm open to new friends, I am very socially awkward/limited...My social ability is pretty much not there, heh. Due to the way my brain seems to be wired I may not come off how I don't wish to and also I can't really read social cues/subtleties so I do better with more direct things, but I do try my best and have ways to try to better navigate things so please be patient with me, heh ^^

If I'm doing something wrong and I don't notice, just let me know and I'll work on correcting course ^_^

I do my best and have good intentions at the end of day, and I'm always trying to do better ^_^

PRONOUNS: Any just mix it up like crazy! Bonus points if in the same sentence....Or even more for same word, lol ^_~

I do lean very much so more masc, but the fluid part is important to me....The second most from masc would be gender neutral or somewhere in the middle and last femme ^^

Which leads me to the next thing

NAME: Kyrla (Femme) Lun (Gender Neutral) or Kashi (Masc) Zasmorcota is the main names I use. I have others, but this is the main one I use. I used Kyrla first and for longer so most people know me by that one....Even though I'm manly masc Kyrla is a name that's important to me....Besides the whole being fluid thing XP

SEXUALITY: I'm gray-ace/demi/pan ^_^

GENDER IDENTITY: As you may have guessed, I'm genderfluid transmasc ^_^

POLYAMOUROUS: I have two wonderful partners! I practice kitchen table nonhierarchical polyamory. Still fairly new to polyam ^_^

FURRY: My main sona is of course the blue nine tailed kitsune! Though I do have others! ^_^

SPIRITUALITY: I have my own personal supplementary spirituality that I accept can most likely be explained by other things, but it works for me, helps me and feels right. Plus it does have some more real life affects such as mindfulness though meditation. I believe in multiverse reincarnation, energy work, crystals, spiritual meditation, charka work, runes, and tarot.

INTERESTS: I love anime, manga, video games, roleplaying, art and writing. I'm always interested in new things from things like new types of games to whole new hobbies! And of course new friends!

MY THING: I've always playfully referred to myself as the High Priestess/Priest of The Great Shiny! The owner and founder of Crazy.Corp any insane amazing non-existent company on a mission to defect normalness! Hence why my motto is: Life is too short to be normal! Also, I always offer dark cookies curtesy of the Rainbow Goblins! Also obey The Great Shiny! For a long time my friends called me "Kyrla Of The Craziness", lol ^_^

THE ENDING STUFFS!!!

Well I think that about covers the basics! If anything comes up I'll edit it in below the end of the post! If you have any questions, throw them at me, lol ^_^ And I'll do my best to answer! Of course I may not answer everything, I do reserve that right of course ^_^

Here's A Yip Yip Bibi

This one's Intro....FAILED!

Wait..no...

This one's Intro....FIN!