#people in question are real and are meant to

[sunflowermp4]

"i think we might have a psychiatric event happening"

"magical shooter in the hospital"

i know these two scenes are meant to be taken kind of light-heartedly, but i really can't stop thinking about the heel-turn change in the way evan and jammer are treated by the staff of st. dotto's. and how that mirrors the real-life subjugation people face for questioning the norms of society. ESPECIALLY in medical/psychiatric environments.

the pilot program are initially treated as honored guests by the staff of st. dottos, but this treatment is contingent on their conformity. the minute evan and jammer openly question the norms of the hospital, they are labeled by the staff as threats who deserve to suffer institutional violence. evan must be crazy and psychotic. jammer must be angry and violent. both for nothing more than CORRECTLY identifying the fucked-up nature of the system. and to me i see a clear parallel to what people who experience psychosis and/or are Black often face in the real world the moment they refuse to conform.

like. you have questioned the status quo and that deems you unfit to be part of our society. we will subjugate you to violence because it's what you deserve and because other people need to be kept safe from you. we're not a danger to you. you're a danger to us. it's all too fucking real!!!

[multipleoccupancy]

Her encouraging nod had helped almost proof that she had heard it all too, everything he was being offered. He believed the Inspector when he said Mauve would have her own deal, he was not quite so experienced enough to think the other man might have been humouring him to get what he wanted. He wasn't quite aware of how he had managed to emotionally touch Mauve with his insistence but as she had whispered and after he shook the man's hand, he turned to smile at her. "We're in this together, remember?"

The Inspector let go of Theo's hand but was sure to point a finger at him in warning. "You screw this up, you run away, don't get the grades, talk about monsters or the organisation and I will personally bring you back here." It seemed harsh he supposed but it was a real threat, he meant every syllable. He needed this plan of his to work, to prove that there were means of forcing recruitment to bolster numbers and while he had no proof of how good an agent he might be, he was sure that the fear of the ward would be enough.

"But you've made the right choice, kid." The Inspector said as if a switch had gone off in his head, "you're going to help us save the world and keep people safe from so much more than they can ever understand. This is all for the greater good, you'll see one day I promise you." He even offered a smile before he looked to Violet, letting the smile fade away.

"What about you?" He offered vaguely but not his hand, "do you want to do this too?" There was no promise of release, just a question as to whether or not she wanted to do the work, not an offer of a job or any help or threat. Inspector 'Davidson' was suspicious of her and if he had to keep her there to find out where she had come from how and why then he would, but he had to humour Theo for now.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

When she saw all the stars in his eyes, Violet tried to give Theo a smile. She doubted it was very convincing, but that could easily be blamed on the fact that she had been viciously bitten by a vampire, and had lost a lot of blood. How could she be excited, when she knew that Delta Green was simply closing the trap they had so expertly set up for him?

But still, she gave him an encouraging nod. It was what he'd always wanted. A blank record. A fresh start. A chance to go to college, to become an FBI agent. To protect the world from monsters. His dream future, laid out for him on a silver platter. And if he refused? A life spent in the ward, slowly going insane. Really insane. A miserable existence trapped in a white cell, being beaten and threatened every day. Violet's fingers tensed against his shoulder.

Her eyes widened when he asked the agent for her freedom, and she felt tears burning her throat. Even now, when he was facing such a terrible choice, he was advocating for her. Protecting her. "I'll be ok," she whispered in his ear. She didn't want Theo to miss out on a chance at freedom.

Luckily, the agent seemed to indulge Theo, though she wasn't sure he was perfectly sincere. He had no reason to offer her a deal, too. She was no one to him. But she didn't care if he was lying or not. All that mattered was for Theo to be free to leave this horrible place. And so, she was relieved to see him shake the man's hand. It was a bittersweet feeling. On one hand, he was going to walk out of the ward and lead the life he had always wanted. On the other hand, he had just been tricked into it by a very wicked man.

In a way, the "inspector" wasn't all that different from the Horned One.

[fatcatlittlebox]

I find the recent comments from showrunners Payne and McKay interesting particularly when they state that Sauron did not want to kill Galadriel in the finale duel but for her to acknowledge him and "give him credit." Now why would that matter so much to him if not for the possibility that what he had done was done so with her in mind? Meaning, Sauron was thinking of Galadriel this whole time. His return to Mordor, the rings, his conquest. They are the broad strokes to the greater masterpiece he is shaping for her. She is his inspiration. She is his audience. Which brings me back to the theme of eyes. His eyes and hers. Eyes that see and look. The Eye is the mark of Sauron. But more than anything he wants Galadriel to see him. I made this last gifset to illustrate how this is the focus of Sauron's obsession and motivation.

Throughout his existence so far, he has been gifted and plagued by his ability to shapeshift and change form at will. He "has had many names." You see how this weighs upon his soul. He has had too many names. He has worn so many faces to too many people. He’s weary and the burden of not being seen for so many years, thousands - he almost comes apart.

This is why he desperately longs for Galadriel to see him. Not as the “abhorred” but as himself. Because to be seen is to be whole. To have one, true name even if it isn't uttered aloud. This is what Adar asked of Galadriel and I think it's meant to reflect Sauron as well. The difference is that Adar embraced the name he had earned while Sauron rejects his. Sauron hates his earned name because it is a constant reminder of how alone and misunderstood he feels in his purpose. That is until he meets Galadriel. She doesn’t abhor “Halbrand.” She loves him. She sees him. To her he is “friend" and "king."

"Galadriel. Look at me.” I believe that she did fall in love with the real him and he knows it. It's why he will always keep “Halbrand.” He will linger in the memories of when Galadriel knew him this way. That's why he continues to look like some variation of Halbrand. Because that's how Galadriel saw him. This the illusion he created for himself and one he is reluctant to leave. As long as she can see him. Just the possibility and the hope.

And while Galadriel can claim fondness for the part of him that was soft, vulnerable and human, that is not all she fell for. And Sauron won't let her get away with excusing herself or denying that she loved the parts that were truly him. This gesture, when he has her impaled with the crown and she averts her eyes away from his gaze.

He jerks her eyes upward as if to say, "Look." She fell in love with this person too. Sauron is Halbrand. The rage-filled, domineering and ambitious, violent spirit. He won't let her deny it. He won't let her look away. This is what they shared. She did not shrink before him when he pushed her away, when he told her of his darkness, when he told her, and showed her of how cruel and manipulative he could be. Remember, he saw her rage and vengeful side too. "Galadriel. Look at me." He says it aloud and presses these words upon her mind like a phantom prayer. His words probably haunt her soul. She feels it. It's what she hints at when she admits to Elrond that Gil Galad doesn't trust her alone with Sauron: You know why. The constant question that gropes her thoughts. It's the open invitation that still keeps the door open to his mind. She says she perceives "all of his mind as it concerns elves." I don't think that's because that is all that Sauron allows her to see. I think it's because that is what most occupies his thoughts. Her.

That's why, as I have previously wrote, I think the events of season 2 were setting the groundwork for manifesting the plan Sauron has for shaping the world as he saw it with Galadriel. He is going to enact their shared vision and, he believes, Galadriel will see its beauty and worth and return to him. Which leads me to her parting words to Sauron in episode 8. She tells him to heal himself. I think by now Sauron has enough insight to see that he is indeed a broken spirit. It comes up in his confessions with Celebrimbor and the showrunners have already hinted that Sauron is becoming increasingly aware that there is something about his very essence that poisons every meaningful relationship he has and dooms him to failure and despair. He also says to Galadriel at the start of their swordfight that he want to "heal..." and before he finishes with "Middle Earth", he pauses. He was going to say that he wants to heal himself. So by the time the viewer sees Galadriel tell him to basically fuck off and heal himself, those seeds are actually already planted. He has to cure himself of this blight. He has to purge himself of it. And now he has explicit instructions from Galadriel. He sees and remembers everything, right? He's going to do it. He's going to try to repair what he may see as his defect. It will be interesting to see how he interprets his marching orders from his queen. I think that is where the One Ring comes in.

The showrunners have already hinted that the forging of the One Ring will be an upcoming storyline soon. They also hinted that he's going to fuck something up. Furthermore, the audience has already been shown that the more of himself Sauron puts into a ring of power, the more corrupted and less potent of a creative, benevolent force it imparts. They've also shown that when Sauron tries to make rings on his own, he fails in the final product. He even went through a whole batch of mithril on his own without success. So if the writers have hinted that Sauron errs in the making of the ring, what could they possibly mean? Where did he go wrong? Is it that Sauron had different intentions for the Ring's purpose than what it ended up becoming? Or that he fulfilled its malicious purpose but with unintended side effects? If the former, I wonder if his true intention with the One Ring is to create another healing ring of power, his own ring as a mate of Galadriel's. Maybe he forges it, believing that this would meet Galadriel's demand to heal himself. The shownrunners have already shown that they like to put unexpected layers to the most well-known parts of Tolkien: “One ring to rule them all. One ring to find them. One ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.” Maybe those words have additional meaning.

[steephanie07]

The Road to Us - CL 16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary : The Road to us follows YN and Charles Leclerc as their unexpected connection grows into a deep, unwavering love. Through their journey, they face the challenges of life and racing, building a future together filled with dreams, laughter, and unbreakable promises.

Word count: 2,2 k

The night she met Charles had been unplanned, a spontaneous outing arranged by her friends Carmen and Kika. They had always tried to pull her into the world of Formula 1, and tonight was no exception. They each had a reason to be there—Carmen was dating George Russell, and Kika was with Pierre Gasly. Both women had taken YN under their wing, determined to get her out of her shell and have her join the F1 circles, hoping she’d meet someone who could make her heart race.

The club was buzzing that night, electric with the post-race excitement of drivers and team members celebrating a job well done. YN felt a little out of place, standing in a room full of world-class athletes and their glamorous friends. But she stayed close to Carmen and Kika, the three of them laughing together and sharing knowing glances as they navigated the bustling crowd.

Then, as they made their way toward the drivers’ table, she noticed Charles. He sat at the far end, relaxed but visibly worn from the day’s race, his eyes bright with an intense energy she found intriguing. When their eyes met, something unspoken passed between them, a silent question neither was prepared to answer just yet. He nodded at her, a friendly, slightly shy smile playing on his lips. YN felt her pulse quicken, caught off-guard his gaze lingered just a moment longer than it should have.

They exchanged small talk that night, but it felt like more than polite conversation. His questions were thoughtful, his responses genuine, and for a moment, it was as if they were the only two people in the room. YN couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something special about this man, something that tugged at her heart even though she barely knew him. When she left that night, she found herself glancing back over her shoulder, catching him watching her as she slipped out into the night.

Days later, their paths crossed again at a quiet gathering organized by mutual friends. As they reached for the same deck of cards during a game, their fingers brushed—a brief, unexpected touch that sent a jolt through her. It was a simple moment, one that might have gone unnoticed with anyone else. But with Charles, it felt significant. He looked at her, his eyes filled with surprise and curiosity, and she felt the world around them blur. It was just a touch, but it left her wondering about him, wondering if he’d felt that same spark.

Sensing the connection between them, Pierre, along with Carmen and Kika, decided to give fate a little nudge. They arranged a casual dinner, inviting both YN and Charles, but conveniently didn’t show up themselves. When she arrived, YN was caught off guard to see that she and Charles were the only ones there. For a moment, they both laughed, realizing they’d been set up, but the evening quickly shifted from awkward to unforgettable.

They talked for hours, moving from lighthearted jokes to sharing dreams and fears they usually kept hidden. They discussed everything from the pressures of fame to their childhood dreams, discovering a mutual love for simple things like stargazing and quiet nights at home. By the time they parted, she felt as if she’d known him forever. The walls they’d both kept up had softened, and there was a new understanding between them—a silent acknowledgment that something real was beginning to blossom.

The months that followed were filled with more of these precious moments. One evening, as they sat beneath a sky full of stars, Charles took her hand. “YN, do you think… this could be it? That we might be meant for each other?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper, as if he were afraid to break the magic of the moment. Her heart raced, and she smiled, nodding as she leaned into his embrace. In that quiet, intimate moment, they became something more, officially stepping into a love story that would change their lives forever.

They took their first trip together not long after. In Paris, they walked along the Seine, hand in hand, exploring hidden cafes and wandering through art galleries as if they were the only two people in the world. Away from the noise and pressures of their usual lives, they found solace in each other. Charles fell in love with the way her face lit up with each new discovery, and YN was captivated by his ability to find joy in the smallest things. It was during this trip that Charles began to picture a future with her, a life built on these small, shared moments.

Over time, they spoke more seriously about the future. One evening, in the warmth of her apartment, they imagined what a life together would look like. Charles playfully brought up the idea of adopting a dog, describing a scruffy little companion that would join them on adventures. YN laughed, picturing their cozy home filled with laughter and love. Charles mentioned wanting a house of their own, a place they could return to after the highs and lows of life on the road. It was a lighthearted conversation, but there was a seriousness in his eyes that told her he meant every word.

There were simple, tender gestures that spoke volumes about their love. One night, as they sat together on the couch, Charles reached over and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering just a moment too long. It was in these small acts of affection that YN realized just how deeply he cared for her, how much she had come to mean to him.

Then came the moment they both knew they were in love. They had been watching the sunset, lost in each other’s presence, when Charles, with a voice full of emotion, whispered, “Je t’aime, YN.” She felt her heart swell, her own voice trembling as she whispered it back. That simple phrase changed everything, solidifying a commitment they had both felt but hadn’t fully expressed until that moment.

Meeting each other’s families was a monumental step. Charles introduced her to his mother, who embraced YN with a warmth that felt like coming home. His brothers, Lorenzo and Arthur, welcomed her with open arms, teasing Charles but treating her with respect and kindness. YN felt a deep sense of belonging, as if she was finally stepping into a family that she could call her own. In return, she introduced Charles to her family, and he won them over with his sincerity and charm, making them laugh and easing any nervousness with his effortless grace.

As time passed, they found the perfect house, nestled away from the bustling city, with a sprawling garden and cozy nooks. They adopted the scrappy little dog Charles had always dreamed of, and together they began to build a life, filling each room with laughter, love, and memories. It was a home that reflected everything they had ever wanted—a safe haven from the world where they could be themselves, unguarded and at peace.

Through the years, they faced challenges together. Charles endured difficult moments in his racing career, enduring setbacks and disappointments. YN was there for him, her unwavering support grounding him when he felt lost. She reminded him that he was more than his achievements, that his worth went beyond the racetrack. In his moments of doubt, her love became his anchor, the steady force that helped him find his way back to himself.

And when Charles fell ill one winter, YN took care of him, tending to him with a gentleness that melted his heart. She stayed up with him during the long, quiet hours, whispering words of comfort and promising to be there through every struggle. In these moments, their bond grew even deeper, a testament to a love that had weathered both joy and hardship.

As they stood at the altar, surrounded by friends, family, and teammates, YN and Charles were ready to make their vows. Carmen and Kikka sat in the front row, eyes bright with pride and joy. Beside Charles were his brothers, Lorenzo and Arthur, smiling as they watched him prepare for this moment. His mother beamed, her heart full as she looked upon the woman her son had chosen.

Charles took YN’s hands, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “YN,” he began, his eyes locked onto hers, “I promise to remember the first time we met, how I couldn’t take my eyes off you, even though I tried to hide it. I promise to remember the way our hands brushed that night, how that simple touch lingered in my mind, leaving me wanting more.”

He continued, each word carrying the weight of the memories they’d shared. “I’ll never forget that night when you stood at the edge of our table, looking a bit out of place but holding your ground. You were brought over by Carmen and Kika , and in that moment, I saw the light in you. I’ll always remember the little things—every look, every unplanned moment that led us here.”

The guests listened in quiet awe as Charles’s voice softened, recalling their first night spent together when their friends had set them up and then mysteriously disappeared, leaving YN and Charles to talk until dawn. “That night, we shared our dreams, our worries, and realized there was something real between us. I’ll remember our first date, the first time I knew I couldn’t imagine my life without you. And our first kiss… under the stars, when you made me realize I was yours.”

A few murmurs rippled through the guests, touched by the intimacy of his words. Charles glanced down briefly, then looked back at YN with warmth in his gaze.

“I promise to be there through the hard times,” he said. “When life feels overwhelming, when we’re far from each other, or when I’m struggling on the track. You’ve been my anchor, YN. Every DNF, every loss… you reminded me to keep going, to focus on what really matters. And I swear to always be there for you, too. Je serai là, toujours. No matter what.”

As he spoke, YN felt tears welling up, each word drawing her deeper into the shared memories that had brought them here. Charles’s hand gently held hers as he continued with a soft smile.

“Most of all, I promise to dream with you,” he said. “To talk about our future, our plans—our maison, our home. I promise to hold your hand as we build a life together, to be by your side as we fill it with laughter, with love, and maybe, one day… a family.”

His voice softened further, his gaze locked on hers. “Je t’aime, pour toujours,” he finished, his promise shimmering in the air around them. Their future was bright, and they stood ready to embrace it, together.

YN took a deep breath, her heart swelling with love for the man standing before her. With a tender smile, she began her vows. “Charles,” she said, her voice steady but filled with emotion, “I promise to be there for you through the quiet, simple moments and the chaos of our lives. To always support you, laugh with you, and hold you when things get tough. And, above all, to love you��today, tomorrow, and for the rest of our days.”

YN’s eyes shone as she looked at him, her words full of sincerity. “I promise to stand by your side through every challenge, every victory, and every ordinary day. To love you with patience, loyalty, and understanding. I’ll be there for the tough times and the joyous ones, just as you have always been for me.”

The guests exchanged knowing glances, touched by the beauty of their vows. Charles’s eyes glistened with emotion as YN finished.

They exchanged rings, sealing their promises to each other with a gentle kiss. The applause of their loved ones filled the air, a beautiful sound marking the start of a new chapter in their journey. Together, they had built something real—a love that would last forever.

A few years later…

.

.

.

The house was still, save for the gentle hum coming from the nursery. YN leaned against the doorway, watching Charles as he rocked their newborn daughter, Léa, back and forth in his arms. The soft glow of the nightlight cast a warm light on them, bathing the room in peace.

Charles looked down at Léa, his face softened with awe as he whispered to her, his voice tender. “Someday, ma petite, I’ll tell you the story of how I met your Maman. She’s the reason you’re here, the reason I know what love truly means.”

He looked up and caught YN’s gaze. In that moment, their hearts were fuller than they ever imagined, their shared journey now deepened by the tiny life they’d created together.

Every promise they had made was now a part of their everyday life, woven into the laughter and warmth of their home. Their vows had been the foundation, but now they were building something new—something lasting and beautiful. And as they stood together, their child in their arms, they knew their story was only just beginning.

[orbleglorb]

tumblr in the blaseball universe, part 10

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

image descriptions: the first image is a thick black bar meant to separate posts. the second image is a thin gray bar meant to separate reblogs. they are used continuously throughout the post when appropriate. like right now

☎️ official-jessica-telephone 🔁

☎️ official-jessica-telephone

what happens if the real JT wants this URL. it's a part of me now. who do i become if i have to give it up

🐟 offishal-jessica-telephone Follow

she'll have to krill you for it

☎️ official-jessica-telephone

WHO ARE YOU

102 notes

☕ eyesinthedark11

every day with salmon weather for the past few months, my dad has miraculously "found" fresh salmon for us to have for dinner. should i ask him where he's getting it from

#personal #i know the answer. i just need the verbal confirmation

0 notes

Whoops, looks like this post doesn't exist!

🐍 gamer--gorgon

shoutout to the guy (who i think might be in our shadows?) that goes fishing during every salmon game. you should see if you can get anything from the floods

#if he's a shadows guy it's extra funny because he's gotta come up from new jersey #all the shadows share an apartment there #charla said she thought she knew him but every time she tries to get into the stands to talk to him he just disappears lmfao #i get it king. i really do

41 notes

☎️ official-jessica-telephone

what do you MEAN they're rebooting supernatural???

35 notes

☕️ eyesinthedark11 🔁

☕️ eyesinthedark11

i understand that this is ostensibly a terrible thing to say but i truly do not think parker macmillan did anything wrong. if my mom was the coin i woulda done worse. i wouldn't have only been passively killing

🦆 peripheral-duck

everyone wants to act all gifted kid burn out fleabag mommy issues #coquette #girlblogger but the minute mommy decides murder is okay if it gets her some money it's all "well why didn't PARKER do anything :/" you fake fucking bitches. bro got cursed to bring destruction in his wake and THEN cursed to wander everywhere. we're not going to question that??

☕️ eyesinthedark11

if the coin was my mom i would have burned the whole earth years ago. not even because of firewalker or anything i woulda just done that

#like you are looking at mommy issues supreme. you show some fucking respect #<- PREV #on one hand it feels really weird to say these things about a Real Guy who is possibly still alive #on the other hand. you fake bitches #if you've reblogged a fleabag quote i don't wanna hear shit from you #'maybe the fireballs didn't know what instability was' valid point! #but that does not mean they're not at fault. you know #idk why everyone expects parker to just. fix everything. #if he's in the vault then he's been 19 for like 50+ years. he suffers more than jesus

5 notes

🐶 catgirlfirefighter

it's somehow the league's best kept secret that mike townsend is deaf. people keep coming to me like, "idk how you're friends with the guy, he just ignored me, he's such a dick" bro he can't hear you. and also yeah he is a huge bitch

#right judgement wrong reason #mike if you're reading this. ily <3

112 notes

🦞 marketplace-shellfish

Hey has anyone heard from that guy who was making the "meatcute is not real and can't hurt me" affirmations recently? I can't tell if it's a bit or not but they haven't posted since.

#blaseball #san francisco #san francisco lovers #hopefully it's nothing and i'm just anxious lol

11 notes

[ultfreakme]

Is it that Caitlyn changed, or the fact that Caitlyn didn't change at all as she promised Vi that led to this?

Caitlyn's current dip into fascism stems from her inherent biases against Zaunites. she's been showing it since season one. Her desire to protect people is very much there, but she said it best, Zaunites are animals. Why must she protect them?

Cait never did any real work to dismantle her beliefs about the undercity and its people. Loving Vi just meant she imposed Piltover standards upon her. Vi is the exception, Vi isn't like those people. She tried to integrate Vi into the Piltover upper echelons. But that's not how it works.

Vi's intentions with the question was to preserve the last stable and nice thing in her life under the assumption that Cait doesn't need to change to love her. It's clear Vi has a boatload of insecurities about dating Cait and sees Cait as better than her, higher than her. She doesn't enter Cait's home and ducks away from Cait's dad, she doesn't approach Cait during the funeral until Cait approaches her first for comfort. Even Vi's justifications for being an Enforcer feel hollow especially when she couldn't fight Jinx. Vi thinks herself to be lower, and Cait does very little to dissuade this from her. Fuck I don't think either of them even notice they're doing this, it's that deeply entrenched into their upbringing.

Cait didn't change in season 1, and now she sinks deeper into the preset biases.

[aquaticmercy]

The Future’s Overdue

Summary : A year after breaking up with Sam Wilson, he shows up at your doorstep.

Pairing : Cap!Sam Wilson x ex-avenger!reader (written with she/her in mind, but I don’t think there’s gendered language in this) 

Warnings/tags : mentions of violence and trauma, cursing. Mild alcohol consumption. Angst with a happy ending. 

Word count : 3.7K

Note : This fic was inspired by the song ‘Overcome’ by Nothing but Thieves. And of course the Brave New World trailer. That flight suit? Phew. When he sliced that truck in half?? Have mercy on me my god. I do have a couple of other requests for Sam but I have so many WIPs and series so please bear with me. Enjoy!

You first met Sam in Washington, when Steve realised Hydra was growing inside of S.H.I.E.L.D.

It was the day three helicarriers got shot out of the sky. 

You and Sam were initially just two operatives thrown in the mission together by coincidence— and a little persuasion on Steve Rogers' part. 

When the dust settled, you found a strange comfort in each other, a kind of trust that only comes from people who've survived the same battles together. It was a friendship— one you had with Steve and Nat, too.

But Sam was unlike anyone you’d ever met. He was compassionate without being naive, funny without sacrificing his strength, and fiercely loyal without ever being overbearing. Everyone in your line of work fought with anger or a sense of duty— and Sam did, too. But he also fought with his heart, with a passion and a clarity of purpose that earned an incredible amount of admiration from you. 

But it wasn’t until after Sokovia fell from the sky that you realised just how much he really meant to you. 

The battle against Ultron had been brutal, a mission that left you questioning everything you’d come to believe. 

You stood among the rubble, surrounded by your teammates, and yet you felt more alone than ever.

The realisation hit you: time was fleeting. You didn’t have forever, and you didn’t want to keep ignoring the one thing that had started to matter more than any mission you’d ever had.

So that night, you sought Sam out. The rest of the team had been decompressing, recovering, but you pulled Sam into a quiet spot away from the others, somewhere under the night sky, where the stars glimmered faintly against the smoke. You didn’t say much, just let the silence and the closeness speak for itself.

When he looked at you, something like affection flickered in his eyes, a hope that maybe he meant as much to you as you did to him. It was then that you closed the space between you and kissed him—gently, like he was made of glass.

In a way, he was. This life was fragile, and his was one you couldn’t bear to lose.

After that, you spent as much time together as you could manage. Between missions, you’d crave moments of normalcy. Walks in quiet parks, stolen weekend getaways, breakfasts cooked together in your shared apartment. 

These small, simple moments began to feel like home, like the life you’d never thought you could have. 

Then came the Sokovia accords. 

When you and Sam sided with Steve, you didn't realise how everything could go so wrong. 

Your world turned upside down again. You became a fugitive, a person without a country, constantly on the run, evading governments, ducking the scrutiny of former allies. Sam stayed by your side, fighting the same battle as you.

Despite the danger, despite the sacrifices, the exile only strengthened your relationship. He was your safe haven, the one person you trusted wholly. 

One night, as you sat together in some safe house with peeling wallpaper and torn furniture, you dared to voice the thought you’d been carrying for so long. 

"One day,” you said, almost hesitantly, “when we’re done running, when all of this is behind us… I want a real life, Sam. With you.”

He looked at you then, his smile one of equal parts sadness and hope. “Tell me more,” he murmured, smiling just a little. 

“I want to marry you,” you confessed, voice trembling. “I want a house. Somewhere no one can find us. I want a family, Sam.”

For a moment, he was silent, his thumb brushing along the back of your hand. “One day. When the world stops chasing us,” He pulled you close, his words a quiet promise against your ear. “I’ll give you all of that.”

For the first time in a long time, the future felt like something worth looking forward to. It felt like something you could actually touch, something just out of reach but waiting for you. 

His promise lingered: that once you were free, once you weren’t running anymore, you’d be able to build that life together.

But then came the Battle of Wakanda, and the life you had both fought so hard for vanished in an instant as you were both erased from existence, dusted away by Thanos’s snap. For five years, you were gone.

When you returned, everything had changed. The world was broken and scattered, When you looked at Sam, you saw it, too— the realisation that so much of everything was gone. How much of the world needed fixing.

And you knew your Sam. He would want to fix it.

You saw the responsibility that had been thrust upon him. You watched him take the shield, watched him step up in a way that was brave and selfless. Everything about this was so unmistakably Sam. Your Sam.

In that moment, you knew that the life you’d dreamed of, the one you’d whispered about in the dark, wasn’t possible— not when the world still needed him.

It broke you, knowing you had to leave, to walk away from the man you loved. But you both knew that your paths were diverging. You wanted peace, family, a quiet life that had no place in the shadow of Captain America’s legacy. And Sam, with Steve’s shield in his hands, couldn’t turn away from the fight. 

It happened on a quiet evening, back in the small apartment you shared. The shadows were long, stretching across the worn wood floors, as the last light of the day reached through the windows. 

Sam was sitting across from you, his hands folded on the table, and his face was set in an expression you’d come to recognize—the one he wore when he was carrying something too heavy to keep inside. You saw it in the slump of his shoulders, the way his usually loving gaze couldn’t quite meet yours. You reached out, caressing his arm.

Finally, you broke the silence. “Sam,” you said, voice wavering. “Are we okay?”

He looked up then, his eyes meeting yours, and the sorrow there was enough to make your chest tighten. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I don’t know if… if I can give you the life you deserve.”

The silence stretched on, thick and heavy, until finally, you pulled your hand from his. “Then we have to let this go,” you said, voice cracking with finality. “I can’t keep waiting for a life that isn’t going to happen.”

The look in his eyes was almost unbearable—regret, pain, and love all tangled together, raw and unguarded. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick. 

“I’m sorry, too,” you replied, your vision blurred

The first tear drawn came from him. “I’ll always love you,” he said, his voice a quiet, broken promise. 

You looked at him, feeling the truth of those words resonate in your lungs. You would always love him too, but love alone couldn’t bridge the gap between the lives you wanted. It was heartbreaking, knowing you’d finally found something so good, only to have it slip through your fingers.

You stood up, needing to move before you changed your mind, before you broke down completely. “Goodbye, Sam,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out.

“Goodbye,” he murmured, holding back everything he couldn’t say. He didn’t try to stop you, didn’t reach for you as you turned and walked toward the door. 

You both knew that if he did, you wouldn’t have the strength to walk away.

–

In the weeks after the breakup, you tried to convince yourself it would get easier, that the pain would fade. But the truth was, every day only sharpened the ache. It was clear that your lives were leading in opposite directions now, that Sam was destined for something larger than either of you had once imagined. 

He had the shield, the responsibility, the weight of a legacy that he hadn’t chosen but that fit him as naturally as if it were always meant to be his. 

And you? Well, after retiring, you finally had the quiet, the simplicity of a life you’d always craved, but it felt hollow without him.

You still loved him, of course. 

That was the hardest part.

There was no switch to flip, no way to undo the love that had grown in the depths of your heart. And he loved you too— you knew that as surely as you knew that the sun would rise tomorrow, the kind of knowledge you felt deep in your bones. 

But you both recognized that clinging to each other, seeing each other, would only deepen the hurt. So you made the hardest choice, cutting contact to give yourselves space to move forward, even if it felt like cutting out a piece of your heart.

You would go through your days thinking about Sam, feeling his absence as a phantom weight by your side. Sometimes, you’d catch yourself reaching for your phone, feeling the urge to share a thought, a joke, a memory— only to remember he was gone from your life now.

It was a loneliness harsher than any pain you’d felt before, and you've been shot at and stabbed multiple times. Sometimes, you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too— if he missed you as much as you missed him.

Months went by, and the world kept turning, but you could never fully escape him. And then one day, you saw him on the screen. It was in the news, footage of Sam at the Smithsonian, standing before the shield as he laid it down, offering it back. You watched in stunned silence as he walked away from the legacy Steve had entrusted to him. He looked so different from the man you’d known—tired, torn, and full of questions only he could answer. 

Still, you knew he’d only given up the shield, not the fight. There was still that fire in his eyes, that drive you knew he would never fully let go of. He was still your Sam, the man who couldn’t stop helping others even if it meant losing himself in the process.

Then came reports of his work with Bucky Barnes. You caught glimpses here and there: videos of Sam fighting, speeches to crowds, images of him standing strong and proud, still doing the work he believed in. Each clip, each mention of him in the newspapers you read was like reopening the wound, bittersweet in a way that only true love could be.

And then, one day, you saw him on the screen again—but this time, he was wearing the Captain America suit.

The shield sat on his back, the way it once had been with Steve.

His face was calm, resilient, and he carried himself with a confidence that you hadn’t seen in a long, long time. As he stood before a crowd, addressing the nation, his voice rang out strong and clear. He spoke of unity, of justice, of how much work still lay ahead.

There was something fiercely proud and unmoving in his stance, as if he had finally found a purpose that felt right, a cause he was willing to fight for as himself. 

The people around you could hardly believe it.

But you did. You always did.

As you watched him speak to the world, you felt your heart swell with pride. He finally stepped into a role he was born for, embracing everything that came with it— the good and the bad. You felt a deep, overwhelming admiration for him— the same one you had felt all those years ago. 

The man you love had found his calling. He had finally stepped into the legacy he’d once doubted. And though he was miles away, speaking to millions of people, it felt as if he was speaking to you. It felt as if he were telling you, Look, I made it. I found my place.

—

It had been over a year since you’d last seen Sam in person. But then, you heard a knock—a familiar rhythm, one you'd both come up with in those times of hiding, a signal you’d memorised to mean ‘it’s safe to open the door.’

Suddenly, all those buried memories resurfaced. You took a deep breath and walked up to the entrance, fingers trembling ever so slightly. 

When you opened the door, he was there. 

He stood tall, carrying an air of quiet confidence that you had missed.

“Hey,” he said softly, that deep warmth in his eyes settling on you like it always had. “I know you’re retired, but I… I need your help.” He hesitated, shifting his weight, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. “This mission… there’s something I just can't figure out. Tactical consulting, just advice, you know.”

Your heart gave a painful thud, torn between the part of you that had finally let yourself step back and the part that had always been drawn to Sam’s gravity. There was something in his eyes, in the way he looked at you—was it hope? Regret?

“Come on in,” you said, your voice surprisingly steady.

Once inside, you cleared space at your kitchen island, pulling out blueprints and maps from him and laying them between you. The small counter seemed even smaller with Sam standing across from you, leaning close as he unfurled more documents. The scent of his cedar aftershave filled your home in a way that felt so heartbreakingly familiar. You poured the both of you a glass of wine.

It didn't take long for you to settle into the rhythm. Soon, you were bouncing ideas back and forth, memories and laughs slipping through the cracks as you strategized, just like old times. You caught yourself chewing on the back of your pen—an old habit that Sam had always found adorable—as you debated where each exit and entrance might be. When it came time to relay the guard rotation, Sam scrunched his nose in that familiar way that always meant he was uncertain. You couldn’t help but smile, reminded of countless memories just like this one.

As the hours passed, you felt yourself relaxing, dropping your guard bit by bit. You found yourselves laughing over old missions, sharing stories of close calls and narrow escapes. When Sam’s hand brushed yours as he reached for a pen, there was a tension there that you couldn’t ignore, something that had always been effortless between you.

Then, as he raised his glass for another sip, his gaze landed on the roses on your counter— a fresh vase of red roses, bold and out of place in your otherwise grounded kitchen. He paused, frowning slightly.

“Red roses?” he asked, glancing back at you, a surprised smile lifting his lips. “You don’t like them. You always preferred pink ones.”

You felt a small pang of sadness, realising that after all this time, he remembered that small detail, one that even you’d almost forgotten. 

“I didn’t buy them,” you replied, trying to keep your tone casual. “A date brought them over. A couple of days ago.”

The words fell into the awkward silence between you. For a second, you saw the surprise flicker across his face. “You’re… dating again?” he asked, almost in disbelief.

“Yeah, well…” You gave a light laugh, trying to brush it off, “had to fill the void you left somehow.”

It was meant to be a joke, but the words cut deeper than you’d meant it to.

He looked down, fingers trailing the edge of his glass, lost in a thought he wasn’t ready to voice.

You wanted to break the tension, you had to. “What about you?” you asked, forcing a smile. “I mean, look at you. You’ve got to be dating, Sam. Come on. You’re still the most handsome man I know.”

But he shook his head, his expression solemn. “No,” he said, his gaze fixed on the wine swirling in his glass. “I guess I just haven’t moved on.”

The words struck you like a lightning strike, filling the room with a tension neither of you could ignore. For a moment, the breaths you took felt too thick, too charged. You watched him, studying his face, seeing a quiet pain etched into his expression as he finally looked up to meet your eyes.

He broke the long silence, his voice low. “Is he… good to you?”

You let out a shaky breath.  “He’s… he’s alright. We’ve only been on a couple of dates. It's not like we’re… exclusive or anything.” You paused, trying to find the words to explain. “He’s a nursery teacher. Sweet, good with kids.... But nothing serious.”

Sam nodded, a faint, bittersweet smile touching his lips. “Good with kids, huh?” his voice was filled with an ache that twisted in your chest. “Just like you always wanted.”

You felt a wave of frustration and sadness rise up. “Yeah,” you replied softly, almost to yourself, before you could stop. “But he’s not…”

The words caught in your throat, but Sam didn’t let you off easy. He leaned closer, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that took your breath away, “He’s not… what?”

“He’s not you, Sam,” you whispered, the words spilling out before you could take them back. And you didn’t want to.

Something broke in him— relief, pain, and longing all at once. Without a word, he reached across the counter, his fingers finding yours. He walked around the kitchen island, sitting on the stool next to yours. His skin was warm as he closed the distance between you. His hand moved up, cupping your face as his eyes traced over you, like he was taking in every detail, every piece of who you were now.

You were still you. But you had grown without him. You had found your peace, just like you always wanted.

He leaned in, and his lips brushed yours in a  trembling kiss.

The moment he felt you return it— the moment he felt the familiar force of your kiss, he deepened it. His hands slid into your hair, pulling you close, desperate to feel you, to make up for all the lost moments he had to go through without you.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm on your skin. 

The kiss had left both of you shaken to your core.

Sam’s hands were still on your face, his thumbs brushing along your cheeks, making sure you were real, and that this wasn't just one of his dreams about you. He searched your eyes, looking for something to reassure him this was more than a moment of weakness.

“We can do this,” he whispered, his voice raw, almost frantic. He believed now, he needed to make you believe, too. “Clint—Clint made it work, right? A family, a life— he did it. He’s raising kids and still comes back when we need him. We’ll talk to him. I’ll ask him, I’ll ask him anything, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

He swallowed, his breath shallow, his desperation pulling him closer to you. “If that’s not enough, if this— if me being Captain America is what’s in the way, then I’ll… I’ll give it up. Just say the word. I swear, I’ll give it all up if that’s what you need. None of this—none of it means a damn thing without you.”

The words hit you hard, more sincere than anything else you’d ever heard him say. You saw the same unwavering love in his eyes, but this time it came with a willingness to do anything, sacrifice anything, to make room for you in his life.

It terrified you because you knew he meant every single word. 

You closed your eyes, finally feeling the burn of tears that you barely managed to hold back. You reached up to hold his face, your fingers brushing along his jawline.

“No, Sam,” you said, your voice shaking but unbreakable in its resolve. “You’re not giving up the shield for me. I’ve seen you out there. I’ve watched you bring people together. And I… I can’t be the reason you walk away.”

He shook his head, his eyes pleading. His breath came quicker. It was moments like this when you realised that he was human. Not a super soldier. Not enhanced. 

He was human with an unnatural resilience.

“But if this is the only way to have you—”

You can’t help but interrupt him, before he dug himself a fantasy so deep that he would struggle to get out of it. You closed the small gap between you, kissing him again. His arms wrapped around you instinctively, holding you like he never wanted to let go. You could feel the tremor in his hands, the way his breath hiccuped, so close to breaking. When you pulled away, you pressed your forehead to his, calming his silent pleas.

“Listen to me,” you whispered. “You are Captain America. That’s a part of you, and I would never forgive myself if I took that. But that doesn’t mean we have to give this up,” you added, willing him to understand. “I want to try again.”

He closed his eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath. For the first time in a year, he was letting himself hope again. “You’re sure?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper, vulnerable in a way you’d never heard before.

“Yes,” you said, your voice steady, filled with a conviction you hadn’t felt in years. “I want you back.”

The relief on his face, the gratitude, was like sunlight breaking through a storm. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and then another to your lips, softer, filled with a tenderness you had missed so damn much.

“I’m all in,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t care what it takes. We will make this work.”

As you nodded, he lifted you into his arms, spinning you around. For the first time in a year, your giggles filled your quiet kitchen. When he set you down, his gaze landed on the flowers once again.

“First on the agenda,” he said, smiling mischievously, “we’re getting rid of those damn red roses. I’ll get you pink ones tomorrow.”

You laughed through happy tears as he pulled you to the couch, the mission he had come to consult you for forgotten, even if only for tonight.

You watched him leave the blueprints behind to spend time with you, when he would’ve been obsessing over a year ago. This time, you felt a conviction that he was right— that it would work.

This time, he was willing to compromise. And so were you.

-end.

[1toreyouapart]

The Lies We Tell

* **FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE. 18+ ONLY. MDNI. DO NOT READ IF YOU DON’T LIKE FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE***

Summary that tells you nothing: Sometimes everything you ever wanted has been right there, within reach, all along.

CW/TW: Angst, fluff, swearing, friends to lovers, jealousy, smut, fingering, PinV, pet names, friends with benefits, more to come as I actually get things written out.

Masterlist

The Shower Scene

Noah leaned over the sink, watching intently in the mirror as the razor glided across his skin. The pitter-patter of the shower the only sound in the bathroom, broken every so often as water splashed. He had lost track of how many times they'd done exactly this. One of them in the shower while the other did whatever they needed to. And every single time he had to fight tooth and nail not to sneak a peek. Friends weren't exactly supposed to want to see the other one naked. But damn it, he couldn't help it.

With a groan he leaned down, rinsing the remaining shaving cream from his face. Friends also didn't sleep in the same bed more than half the time. Or cuddle the way him and Quinn did. They sure as shit didn't get jealous every time one of them went out on a date. She had such shitty taste in men, too. All of them absolute tools that left her disappointed at the end of every date. Yet she still went back. It made zero sense.

Her phone on the counter lit up. A quick glance and he wanted to vomit. Here she was, getting ready for another date with another boring asshole that if he even made it past the first date would disappoint her, again, by the end of the second or third. What the fuck was she doing wasting her time with these idiots?

"Noah? Can you pass me my towel?"

Noah paused for a moment, wondering just what would happen if he said no. If he made her get out and get her towel herself. It was tempting. Maybe a little too tempting. Resigning himself he grabbed her towel off the rack, passing it through the shower curtain to her.

"Got any plans tonight?" He knew the answer, but fuck it, why not torture himself and hear her say it?

"Yeah." She stepped out of the shower, wrapped up in her towel. "Got a date."

Biting back the words that so desperately wanted to escape he moved aside and leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest. He watched her as she applied her leave-in conditioner. Watched as she wiped her hands on her towel before she picked up her phone. Ignored the pit in his stomach as she responded to whatever the douchebag had said.

"You deserve better."

"You don't even know him, Noah."

"Don't have to. You have fucking terrible taste in men." Noah's eyes widened. He hadn't meant to say that. "I'm sorry. Fuck. I shouldn't have said that."

Quinn laughed. Actually laughed. But it wasn't her usual laugh. He could hear the pain hiding behind it. What the fuck was wrong with him?

"Yes, you did. It's okay, though. You're not wrong. Just look at how we met." Her eyes met his in the mirror. "I would like to get dressed now, if you don't mind."

Noah stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. Of course he had meant it, but he hadn't meant to actually say it. She didn't need to tell him that his words had stung. He could hear it in her voice. See it in the way she looked at him through the mirror.

"I'm just tired of seeing you hurt when they all inevitably do the same stupid shit. I love you, terror pixie." He bent down, pressing his lips to the top of her head.

"I love you, too, Bigfoot."

She grinned, her eyes crinkling at the corners. At least she was smiling again. With a weary sigh he reached up, ruffling her hair before darting out of the bathroom. Part of him, real deep down, knew that if he had just asked her to cancel. To stay home with him, she would have, no questions asked. But that would be selfish. Who knows? Maybe this guy wasn't a total douchebag. And maybe he would turn out to be the love of her life. The thought made him physically ill.

Noah burst into Jolly's room, quickly closing the door behind him. Jolly merely looked up from the book he was reading, an eyebrow arched.

"Lemme guess. Another date tonight?"

"Yeah. And we all know how it's gonna go. Gonna need all of you to get lost for a while."

[jams-sims]

I am home now, I can finally decompress and talk about tonight's episode. I'm going to start with Sam because, she's my girl and then next I'll do Jammer. And yes I'm going to talk about Sam x Evan, if you don't like that I can't help you.

This is the first time, in a hot minute, we've addressed Sam's identity issue. Her lack of real connections outside of her friend base. There's something about that that is worrisome. Everyone has their connections now K has the wolf, Jammer has the fire salamander, Evan has the Bear. We could assume that Sam's is going to be the bat or maybe the goat. What worries me, is that the implications of the next episode, from the misleading trailer at the end. Shows that its going to be about the sea creature and trying to ecaspe that. I have this feeling that something bad's going to happen involving Sam. I could be picking up on nothing but the Vibes Feel off. I feel like that phone scene was just a step.

I feel like we're going to have more scenes, of this lack of connection happening. We have 3 eps left, that just enough time for something to go horribly wrong. Especially with Sam being the heart of the group.

The reason why it weighing on me is because- Sam needed someone outside the group to check on her a few eps back. It was right after Evan killed B. I feel like her friendships are going to come into questions because- How much of her friendship does she believe they love her for her. Evan and her have been having a lot of hearts to hearts. An just like how evan broken down an express those complicated emotions when Jammer got his magical connections.

I can see Sam having a moment where this darkness in her heart. This lack of community comes and tries to swallow her and her connections.

Now onto SamEvan or EvanSam- listen idc if it meant to be friend coded or not. If Sam and Evan do kiss im breaking into the drop off studio dome and stealing tabby. The tension between them is insane!!

It feels like Evan is one minute, alway from decalring his fucking knight like devotion to Sam. EVERYTIME they have a heart to heart, Evan gives off the vibe that he wants to say 'I would kill so many people for you.'

I DONT KNOW WHAT IT IS!!! ITS LIKE CRACK!!! PUMPED DIRECTLY INTO MY VIENS!! I dont even know how a relationship between Sam and Evan would work!? Sam and Evan have the most shittist relationship tracklist. It feels like they could either be the 'we dated for like a week but it fwkt better as friends' type or the 'we've been so casual about our relationship, moved in together and live this very domesticated life even though we arent actually married.'

It also doesnt help Aabira and Erika are bother just as bad as me, their facial jounery gets me acting crazy!!

I just want Sam to get everything, she needs and wants.

[feralcoffeebug]

i saw in the tags of ur new fic that hua cheng has BPD in ur hcs…. if ur willing to talk abt it id love to hear abt it 🙏

Hi!!! Ofc I’d love to talk about it.

So Hua Cheng is one of the characters that I hold super dear to my heart, in that fic he wasn’t quite old enough for the actual symptoms to start showing in ways that would be super obvious hence the whole “it’s not really shown/explored here” that I mentioned. But! Let’s get into it!

There are 3 suspected subtypes for BPD, not really “officially” used in the dsm5 but! Hua Cheng fits Really Well for quiet BPD, which is often where the symptoms are more internalized rather than outward. As a child and teen when he was the little boy and little soldier the BPD symptoms are more outward, as is extremely common for people with quiet BPD that they do not start with this presentation of symptoms.

Since I love researching especially for my headcannons this will have me pulling from the DSM and using that lol. Sorry if this isn’t quite what you wanted! Feel free to send another ask in that case! I love answering questions haha.

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR THE NOVELS

The diagnostic criteria means you need 5 of the main 9 symptoms of BPD to be diagnosed with it. A lot of these behaviors start around 13, HOWEVER it is very difficult to diagnose in children and teens due to regular hormonal changes and a developing mind can often mimic the same instability that comes along with BPD. Please do not use this as something to diagnose yourself.

Hua Cheng, as he is, meets a few of the symptoms. I’ll go symptom by symptom to explain them a bit more

1. Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment (not including sh or sui behaviors as it is covered in a different criteria).

Throughout TGCF Hua Cheng often spends a lot of him time attempting to be useful or good enough for Xie Lian, He gets very anxious and fearful around areas that might make Xie Lian leave him or be disgusted by him.

As Hong’er, he often changes entire things about himself with just a small off-hand comment from Xie Lian. He picked up the saber and focused on it because Xie Lian told him that he would suit it well. He panicked every single time someone tried to remove the bandages covering his red eye because he knew that it was something a lot of people hated or treated him badly for and was disgusted by, and he didn’t want Xie Lian to see it. When Xie Lian found out about the fact that he was born under the star of solitude and that meant he was cursed he had a breakdown about it, only calming down when Xie Lian assured him that he was believed that he wasn’t cursed. He showed anger at anyone else where for Xie Lian he would do anything (except talk haha)

I can’t say much about Wu Ming or him as a ghost fire; mostly due to not having gotten to his chapters yet. But my brain wants to use the part with the 33 heavenly officials and his anger at Feng Xin and Mu Qing as proof as well. Along with his devotion to Xie Lian.

As Hua Cheng, he often looks to Xie Lian when he’s not sure what he will think of things, often changing his likes and dislikes when it comes to him. He changed his form to be one that Xie Lian might have liked more, being extremely insecure about his true form while trying to play it off that he was ugly, which obviously Xie Lian didn’t agree with. And once he saw that Xie Lian wasn’t as disgusted by his actual form he uses it more often along with (At least in the manghua) he incorporates some parts of it in his San Lang form.

All in all, usually he sees things that could displease Xie Lian as being bad, and I believe this comes from a place of fearing abandonment by Xie Lian.

2. A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation

This symptom is a hallmark of the disorder, and most of the other symptoms are what leads to this symptom to showing up. For Hua Cheng, his relationship with Xie Lian is pretty constant and in this context he would be his Favorite Person (FP) (will be discussed later) but his relationship with others are far more unstable. He goes between not caring for those he barely knows to being extremely angry and vindictive if they even so much seem as if they are insulting or disrespecting XL. He also seems to not have very steady relations with those he is simi closer to than strangers (such as yin yu and black water, the only two that, outside of XL, he has around him decently often enough, which honestly probably shows more so that he is attached to Xie Lian like a person with Bpd is to their FP). His opinion of those people seems to be very dependent on how they’re effecting his current situations as they happen, at least from what I’ve seen myself. He also holds very little regard for people outside of Xie Lian, which honestly might point to something like ASPD or something but in my opinion HC fits BPD more so than the other one but I could see the argument for it.

His unstable relationship mostly goes in relation of himself and his self image, which are very dependent on Xie Lian.

3. Identity disturbance: marked and persistently unstable self-image or sense of self.

For this criteria, this mostly means changes in personality, likes, dislikes, goals, and role. Often the only sense of self people with BPD have is that they are bad or evil, which we see a lot in Hua Cheng, his view of himself is very negative. He often does not feel as if he deserves to be treated nicely by Xie Lian.

4. Impulsivity in at least two areas that are potentionally self-damaging (e.g. spending, sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating. Not including sh or sui behaviors.

Idk why for this one specifically but in my heart I feel like he is very impulsive even outside life or death situations. I cannot for the life of me recall why right now

One of them is him betting his ashes in the fight with the 33 gods, while that could be seen as him being confident in his ability to win it is still very dangerous. I’m unsure if this would count as impulsive or just sui behavior lmao.

5. Recurrent suicidal behavior, gestures, or threats, or self-mutilating behavior.

As Hong’er, He was going up the wall to die. Not only that but when he was in the army he often put his life on the line specifically trying to protect Xie Lian, to the point that Feng Xin mentioned offhand that it seemed like he had a death wish and that he had no concern for his own life. All of Hua Cheng’s deaths actively involve dying for Xie Lian, as he decided to live for the man as well.

6. Affective instability due to a marked reactivity of mood (e.g. intense episodic dysphoria, irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days).

Hua Cheng’s mood often shifts very quickly from extremes, there seems to be very little grey area for his moods. Often times, he is happy and content only for a small thing to bring his ire and anger, especially when it comes to his time with Xie Lian. This is often set inwards, anger at himself for not being able to protect him. But this also is directed at others as well as seen by his reactions when Feng Xin and Mu Qing show up.

7.Chronic feelings of emptiness.

In my headcannons this is very true. He is often bored, he often acts very bored in the donghua when something doesn’t have to do with Xie Lian.

8. Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger.

I don’t know about you, but I think a lot of Hua Cheng’s emotions include anger. He hits He Xuan because of a situation that endangers Xie Lian. He is known for getting into fights over small things. He killed 33 gods for simply disrespecting Xie Lian. He often has outbursts in anger at Mu Qing and Feng Xin, using a lot of sarcasm. These outbursts often happen when Xie Lian isn’t giving him attention or when they are disrespecting/looking down at Xie Lian in some way, shape, or form.

9. Transient, stress-related paranoid idealtion or severe dissociative symptoms

This symptoms often comes up when in response to something that may be relating to possible abandonment. Hua Cheng tends to get more quiet and withdrawn when situations have to do with himself or when something comes up that Xie Lian might hate him over. The topic of E’Ming makes him start to try and move the topic off of it’s emotional responses, when he hurt Xie Lian he gets quiet and stares where Xie Lian left for a long while, getting quiet when Xie Lian apologizes for the situation before nearly crying over it and apologizing over it.

Now, a lot of the reasons behind why I say a character has a mental illness usually does not come from what criteria they meet, but I felt that explaining what could possibly meet what criteria is a fun way to get the conversation started. A lot of BPD is the mental process that gets the reactions, or what causes the reactions. I’m going to get into the like, less official practical and professional view of BPD and go more into it as someone who shows a lot of BPD esc symptoms and the research I’ve done from other people with the disorder.

In BPD, there is a thing called a Favorite Person, also shorthanded to FP. I mentioned earlier that Xie Lian would be his FP, and I stand by this. Often to a person with BPD their FP is everything to them. Their emotional wellbeing and sense of self is often based on the person. It is often very intense and their FP is often what is the root cause of their symptoms showing up. Often FPs are caregivers, friends, crushes, and other things. It can be a very unhealthy relationship for both parties due to the fact that a person with BPD rely heavily on their FP for regulation.

This is something we often see with Hua Cheng and Xie Lian. Hua Cheng relies on Xie Lian for reassurance, taking every grain of it. He does everything in his power to appeal to Xie Lian but also doesn’t mind if Xie Lian doesn’t know about him or hates him as long as he can be useful to him. He also does all he can to get Xie Lian’s attention and praise. He bases a lot of himself and his environment around Xie Lian. I think that the opinion that some of the fandom has of him that “everything revolves around Xie Lian for his character” is a very good example of this. I do not agree with this sentiment, obviously, but it is very common for people with BPD to base almost everything around this FP.

Hua Cheng also wants to spend all of his time around Xie Lian, which is often seen with people with Bpd and their fps.

A lot of this headcannon also has a lot to do with seeing myself in Hua Cheng, seeing behaviors I’ve done for past FPs and even my current FP. I see my relationship with my current FP (which is my boyfriend before anyone asks) in Xie Lian and Hua Cheng. I am a lot more unstable in my relationship with my FP than Hua Cheng is to Xie Lian, but I also feel like Hua Cheng often would turn his anger inward a lot more than I do and fall heavily into self blame for any issues. Along with that, I feel as if Hua Cheng is also pretty inclined to feel as if he overstepped and to internally berate himself for thinking he could have or do or feel whatever unstable emotions and feelings and devaluation towards Xie Lian.

Anyways here’s a small, very tired and sleepy explanation. I’m sorry if none of this makes sense. I just woke up to write this and I’m probably heading to bed.

[chevelleneech]

I can say this here, because no one really pays attention to my posts, but saying Chan has big brotherly feels for Felix is incredibly funny to me.

That man has spoken in detail about what he loves about Felix, from his personality to the beauty of his face. He has stuttered and giggled and blushed while describing Felix’s freckles, and has told us about the life he pictured building with him.

Choosing to view that as friendship? Sure, cool. Choosing to view that as familial, brotherly love? Crazy.

[fluentisonus]

(typing this as I walk to work so this is not articulate but) thinking a lot abt how les mis w javert sort of. hm. questions? problematizes? the Idea of dogs & the domestication of dogs (metaphorically ofc) like it sort of looks past the 'man's best friend' angle entirely & makes you think things like. kind of fucked up of humans [the social order] to domesticate the wolf [person outside of society for whatever reason] expressly to turn against & cause harm to other wolves in order to keep them out [away from respectable society] & keep themselves safe but never truly consider it an equal [it'll always just be a dog]. kind of fucked up that the dog finds enjoyment & life's purpose in this

[claraoswalds]

It's racist, my dear, to be blunt. People come from outside, they think we're all witches and druids. For God's sake, child, you walked into a piece of string!

[seiwas]

SEL MY SEL …….. crawling over here for the ask game …………… you already know . who i’m going to ask for phdkdjdkdb IN MY DEFENSE I WILL NEVER GET OVER YOUR VERSION OF HIM !!!!!!!

….. sugu ….. with ’sun’ ……. maybe 👉👈

(🍵 <- a little matcha for your troubles … good luck with the writing exercises my loveee <33 i’m cheering you on!!!)

ARI 🥹🥹🥹🥹 hehe ofc i shall write sugu for u! writing him is always so fun 🥹 thank you for the prompt, and for the matcha!! i will be sipping it as i write this 🥹 it is not a trouble at alllll!! esp if it's for youuuuu 🫶

contains: beautiful, gorgeous, sexy neighbor suguru, mood can be a bit unsettling... honestly a little stockholm syndrome-y (does this count as dark? idk 😭), skewed concept of reality and time

suguru + sun

you move into a new neighborhood on your 24th birthday.

it's a quaint house, fully furnished with wooden panels lining its contemporary build. you consider yourself lucky for finding a place this well-kept at the price point you offered. you're honestly surprised that suguru, your now landlord, accepted your application.

the area sits a few kilometers on the outskirts of the city, but it feels neither too quiet nor too busy; a perfect balance with an impressive view of the rising sun this early in the morning. that, and the people seem friendly, greeting you as they pass by. they even offer to help you haul things out of your car and into the house.

to the right of your house is one that holds the same design elements at yours, although a bit darker in its tones. it's sleek and modern, befitting of a bachelor.

"you must be the new tenant," a voice speaks from behind you, syrupy and smooth. you didn't even hear his footsteps.

when you turn around, you're met with a tall man who greets you with his arms held behind his back as he tilts his head low. there's a calmness that radiates off him, a sort of gentleness that signals he’s someone you can trust.

you nod, introducing yourself with your hand outstretched towards him.

"suguru," he replies as his fingers grab yours delicately. your eyes widen in surprise, recognizing the name, and he merely chuckles in return, a soft laugh that brings out kindness in his eyes.

"i should greet you properly," he lets go of your hand, placing it back behind him. "hello, new neighbor."

.

over shared breakfasts by your porch and impromptu dinners over at his, you grow a liking to suguru. he's polite and thoughtful, often knocking at your door in the mornings to offer you a cup of tea to watch the sunrise.

"you'll only find sunrises like this here," he leans back on the wooden chair you set out as outdoor furniture. his head tilts towards you slightly, impossibly close as you notice the corner of his lips curl up into a small grin.

hues of pinks, purples, and orange blend to illuminate his face perfectly. the sun is beautiful in front you, peeking between clouds as it inches away from the horizon, but something about him is infinitely more magnetic. your stare is immediately drawn to his lips, smooth and supple, before it meets his gaze.

you don't know what's worse―wanting to lean in or be pulled by the look in his eyes.

he fixes things that break in your home, always somehow knowing just when to show up. at first, it was your windows, the one by the attic, too high and dangerous for you to climb; then, it was your kitchen sink, its pipes regurgitating the water going down the drain. he's begun to bring you your groceries too, often asking for a list of what you need when he makes trips out of town.

your days blur easily when you're with suguru, and time passes almost fleetingly as you find your hours filled with soft laughs and touches so delicate you sometimes wonder whether they're real.

it should be noted, you think, how much time has passed since you first met him―an anniversary of some sort.

.

you learn that he owns both houses―his and the one you're currently renting. it once belonged to a friend who had to move for bigger, greater responsibilities elsewhere, he'd said.

"why did you decide on renting?" you ask him one night, over wine and candlelight.

your fingers fiddle with his as he sits you on his lap, this thing between you growing more intimate lately. he rubs his thumb along your thigh, resting his chin by your shoulder.

"you could have sold it or something."

he presses his lips gently on your collarbone.

"i could've," his fingers trail up to your waist, crossing your chest before landing on your chin, cupping it lightly to face him. your heart is hammering in your chest, senses on fire as his nose kisses yours. you think you can count every mole that dots his face beautiful. then, he inches closer, lips grazing yours as he whispers, "but i was waiting for you."

.

you mark each day at sunrise.

your digital clocks and calendars stopped working after some time, but you don't mind. suguru always tells you what date it is when you ask.

this morning, you wake up in his bed, and the sun is still as breathtaking as you remember it, the same pink, purple, and orange hues streaming through his window. when you look closely, the clouds―

"good morning," he brings you tea in bed, his hair topped off with a bun, a half-up-half-down.

your stomach fills itself with something warm and fuzzy as you smile at him, "morning."

"slept well?" his hand reaches for your waist under the duvet, and you giggle, ticklish.

"very," you crane your neck to land a soft kiss on his lips. "what date is it today?"

"october 28," he supplies.

your eyebrows shoot up as you realize, "i have to bring my car to the mechanic."

it's been 6 months now since your last check, right before you moved, and though you barely use your car anyway, it's best to be safe.

you quickly move to get up but suguru's hand keeps you in place, firmly pressed on your waist.

"i'll do it," he says with a smile on his face, "you rest here."

.

you barely see your other neighbors except for the girl who smokes a pack of cigarettes a day and the twins down the street.

when you ask suguru about it, he dismisses the question quickly, saying, "must have moved," as he urges you to take another sip of your tea.

you dream of them that night, on bare streets; it wakes you in a cold sweat, the image of your neighborhood reduced to just your house and suguru's.

.

this is the 200th sunrise since you started counting, which means this is the 200th day since you and suguru officially got together. kind of.

your gift for him is a painting of the sunrise, because it reminds you of him; and because it's become your favorite thing to look forward to, too.

the pinks and purples blend together beautifully as it contrasts with the orange hues, and the sun continues to peak above the horizon as it settles between clouds.

suguru kisses you when you give it to him, the taste of tea right on his tongue.

he frames it on his bedside, and when you wake in his room the next morning, it greets you along with the back of his head, fast asleep.

your eyes flit to the view outside his window, the same pinks, purples, and orange hues. you tilt your head curiously, brows furrowing. the sun stays at the same spot above the horizon, and when you look at the painting again, the clouds hold the same position and shape.

a chill washes over you, your hearbeat pounding.

.

"what date is it today?" you ask suguru as you wash the potatoes in the sink.

another bag of groceries from suguru. now that you think about it, you don't think you've ever gone to the grocery store since moving.

"is it important?" he responds, slightly snappy. you've begun to notice that he hates it when you ask lately.

you eye him from the side.

"i was thinking of preparing a menu of what we'll eat during the holidays, if it's near."

the furrow on his brows smooths out as you give your answer, and so he says, "december 5."

and you know something is wrong, because that can't be it. it doesn't make sense with the sunrises you've counted.

.

you dream again, more and more as the days go by―dirt roads and your house and suguru's, run-down and empty. more things start breaking in your apartment, and suguru always knows when they need to be fixed.

there's a deep, twisting feeling in your stomach that intensifies, festering under your skin; it worsens in the mornings, when you sit with suguru at your porch and you think you see a crack in the sunrise.

.

sunrise valley the place where the sun never sets! ─── beautiful, bright, and destined for people who live just like you! find your new home here.

[DISCONTINUED] — FOR DEMOLITION ON DECEMBER 7. under investigation for suspicious spiritual activity and missing persons.

[designernishiki]

it’s kinda funny to me how that dumb scene in kiwami 1 of majima getting shot and left for dead in the harbor was basically just added as a half-assed way to explain majima not being around for a bit of the plot, but they accidentally(?) just made it seem like start of a chain reaction where majima ended up feeling slighted and heartbroken after being abandoned like that and then lashed out about it via smashing a big truck into the building kiryu was in. and yeah that isn’t inherently a romantic thing as-is but then they go and add the part where majima grabs a hostess and performatively hits on her as in-kiryu’s-face as possible, she says she’s already in love with someone, and majima lets her go immediately, no questions asked, making a big fucking point of it just to say see THAT kiryu? I appreciate when people are HONEST about their FEELINGS. people who won’t just BACKSTAB someone who CARES about them to save themselves. is that so crazy kiryu?? huh??? anyway make it up to me get down here and fight me right fucking now

[fitzrove]

Crown Prince Rudolf biographers be like

brigitte hamann: Rudolf's foreign policy aims were ambitious, if ultimately unfeasible. At the very least, he tried harder even from his difficult personal and political position to make an impact on the political affairs of the empire, unlike his entitled uncaring cruel bitch mother who never loved him enough

frederick morton: The prince's cerulean orbs glistened with barely held-back crystalline tears as he clutched the pistol in his masculine, well-muscled hand, and he caressed the mouth of the gun like he might a lover's on a gloomy winter morning, impatient, all his potent charms singularly focused on his new, dark goal, one that could only find its fulfillment in the indulgement of his secret desires... erhm no I do not want to fuck him [blushes]

empress zita: I think president Bush had Rudolf killed

greg king and penny wilson: Rudolf did 9/11 what a fucking scumbag [source: judith listowel source: dukeprince heinrich von habsburg twitter acount source: this appeared to me once in a dream]