#reblog here for coping myself from any situations I have at the moment

[reverie-obsessingtime]

Why I think Sparkle is a maladaptive daydreamer coded character and who it plays part into her character as a whole: from a maladaptive daydreamer (and a character analysis)

(Ok folks, this turned out rather long so get your popcorn and water at hands reach!.....trust me.)

Hi!!!! :,D This is my second post here and it feels like it's been a decade but here I am again haha...

This time I'm here with something I'm more confident in exploring as, I myself, am a maladaptive daydreamer! :,)

And because of that Sparkle hit me like a TRUCK and her MADD (mal. daydreamer for short) coding makes me love her and go insane about it at the same time.(it means a lot to me ok?😭)

Sooo I'm here today to expand and shine light on it to the rest of the masses as there isn't much appreciation for Sparkle (which is understandable cause she is a character not everyone can savor) and I feel like her maladaptive daydreaming can help understand her way of thinking.

comments, reblogs and likes are VERY much appreciated if you would like to see more of my billion cents and share with others to further show me support :,)

if you have any disagreements, corrections, different opinions or such that you would like to discuss I'm always open to further discussions as I would love to receive back engagement with these posts (as long as it is in good manners)

Enough talk from me though, let's get into it already:

What is maladaptive daydreaming?

Throw the google definitions out the window, let me give you a gist of it from someone who has it:

it's a coping mechanism turned addiction that can develop from loneliness or trauma (it is also common in people with ADHD). It helps you deal with the current reality you are in by offering escapism but it differs from normal daydreaming because it becomes maladaptive (as the name suggests).

What that looks like is being addicted to escaping reality through it by daydreaming, which can make you want to trade time forming human bonds, hanging out with friends, doing tasks you should, even taking care of yourself (etc.) with daydreaming. Most of the time you don't even need to do it but daydreaming is so much more fun and entering than ur current boring life that you keep doing it anyway. It can isolate you and make you lose touch with reality (from one degree to another depending on the individual).

But people with MADD DON'T ACTUALLY BELIEVE IN THEIR DAYDREAMS. They KNOW they aren't real. Some might willfully want to believe in them but at the end of the day they know it's all made up. If you are a MADD but get serious delusions about it you might want to check more into that cause something is overlapping.

Maladaptive daydreaming is MUCH more immersive and vivid than normal daydreams (what can I say, practice makes perfect🤭). Some MADD will stim while daydreaming in various ways that have to do with whatever they are daydreaming for enhanced immersion (some will pace around the room, some will make facial expressions, some will catch themselves talking, etc)

The daydreams each differ from individual to individual and can be classified in multiple types, some make OCs while others imagine a different version of themselves or make a character similar to certain degrees to them.

We are very much fictional-stories-makers nerds no matter to be honest

Now that we got the explanation out of the way:

Why do I think Sparkle has MADD?

🎇Proof number one: her character story IV

..... *POINTS AGGRESSIVELY* like?? COME ON!! (my "she is just like me fr!!!" moment and what made me want to make this whole post)

Ok, ok, let me try to be serious about this 😮‍💨

Analyzing this alone:

"It's truly addictive to me" maladaptive daydreaming is a behavior that is addictive to the individual (du uh)

"The more I imagine, the more I get absorbed in those characters" Getting absorbed into your daydreams (and it being addictive) is a core part of MADD and what differentiates it from normal daydreaming.

"the wonderful and tragic situations I create for them, and the emotions they experience in those circumstances..." Here, Sparkle is talking about the characters she makes and how by acting them and playing their roles and their stories, she enjoys herself and is entertained by them.

From my perspective, Sparkle is an individual who finds the emotions of others and how each reacts put in various situations, fascinating, entraining and enjoyable to witness, observe and ponder on more than an average individual.

Which I think is something all of us MADD, writers, OC makers, character analyzing enjoyers and fic writers can relate to ( "no"? ok. now tell me your OCs tragic backstory come on~ come on~ ik you have one. No? Ok then tell me through what psychological horror you want ur fav to go through~ Ik you know that you want them to get tortured by the writers at least just a tiny bit....I know what you are.)

🌸Further more quotes from her character story IV:

"Lies? Come on, I'm not trying to tell a grand story or fabricate an eye-catching experience... I'm wholeheartedly exercising my imagination for my own sake. I imagine various lives, seek excitement, and then recreate them as best I can, and pump the brakes on my imaginative balloon just a second before it bursts."

.... genuinely what do you want me to say honestly, that's SUCH a MADD to say, pls reread how many times it takes to get it. Everything in that is just PEAK maladaptive daydreamingness. Genuinely I don't have anything to add that won't sound like "Water is H2O and 2+2=4" 🤷

"Seriously, having a script is far from enough. First and foremost, I must wholeheartedly believe that the character I'm portraying truly exists. Then, I need to imagine the other stories where the character would appear. I always need extra information to make their motivation logical and emotional."

Sparkle seems dedicated to portraying, grasping and understanding her characters by IMMERSING herself into them as much as possible. Going the EXTRA mile, such as imagining other stories they could appear in, making herself believe the character TRULY exists and informing herself about them to portray them the best.

Which, again, all writers, OC makers and fic writers who actually give more than two dice about their character can relate to as we want our characters to be most accurate and well written and for that we do all Sparkle said.

The "I must wholeheartedly believe that the character I'm portraying truly exists" strikes a chord in me because it's such a ??? NON MADD ARE NOT THAT DEDICATED TO IT JSJSKSJ THAT'S SUCH A MADD MILDLY CONCERNING BUT MADD THING TO SAY SKDHSKSN IK WHAT YOU ARE!!!

OK OK.

I can hear you going "but she is an actor, it's just part of being an actor". Ok Sherlock, but Sparkle is not your average actor. Case and point:

Sparkles love for the stage of acting and how it ties into her MADD:

🎇Who is Sparkle an actor for?

Herself.

Saying "she is so matriculated and dedicated because she is an actor" is only half way true.

Sparkle's love for acting and her maladaptive daydreaming are things that can coexist at the same time. (just like being a writer and MADD for ex. (yes, some of ur fav writers could have been MADD))

Which got born from which? We don't know but both are proof of how much she loves the other.

("But you said MADD develops from trauma or loneliness" YES!! And we still have no real idea about Sparkles backstory but ik damn well a "normal" person with an average fine life doesn't end up like Sparkle.)

(Also no, her character stories 1,2,3 and be at most half trusted as she says she makes them up for each individual both in her char. story 4 and a voice line.

They could either be total nonsense or parts and truths of her past but altered/heavily exaggerated and metaphorical. Pick ur fighter tbh.

"There are a few versions that are particularly popular." "Liking and believing are two different things, but people are more likely to believe in their favorite stories." "Lies? Come on, I'm not trying to tell a grand story or fabricate an eye-catching experience... I'm wholeheartedly exercising my imagination for my own sake."

She is basically toying with everyone who asks including the player for her own amusement and, honestly? Iconic.)

🌸She acts for her own entertainment.

Wealth, status, power... None of this matters to Sparkle. The only thing that can lure her interest is "amusement". (from her twt intro)

Her doing all this. Immersing herself into characters so deeply. It's all for herself and her own enjoyment. Just like MADD is for us and our own enjoyment and entertainment.

Not to be the greatest actor or for others recognizing her. In her introduction on twitter, she says: "I'm not exactly a person loaded with cool skills, and dreaming big isn't really my thing." Which says enough to contradict such ideas.

Yes, some MADD might go on to become writers or actors but some don't. And those who don't could still want to improve their characters FOR THEMSELVES because that will bring them more enjoyment, because they love what they do and their characters for one reason or other and want them to shine like they see them could.

🌸Sparkles elation is acting and MADD.

Elation: great happiness and exhilaration.

What makes her feel elation? Acting. What is her heavy immersive acting that is all for herself to feel elation intertwined with? Maladaptive daydreaming ✨

(wow, shocked, ik)

Sparkles Myriad Celestial Trailer: Behind the Curtain

Next, I want to talk about both her Myriad and Character Trailer through a MADD lens, starting off with her Myriad Celestial Trailer:

What struck a chord in me with it is her "conversation" with her mask. What is her mask really representing for her? The way I see it: it's her MADD and also, Sparkle.

At first she says it keeps on smiling even when she doesn't and that she can hide under it. While in reality we might not be able to smile all the time. Escaping into our daydreams through characters who can helps. The use of a veil to describe it can also be interpreted as choosing to hide your true emotions from yourself and others through emulating a characters happy emotions and state of mind.

Second, she says the mask imitates her face, her emotions, like a mirror showing her own reflection. When writers come up with characters, some might be similar to them through a degree with or without the creator even realizing. This can happen to MADD more since we are creating characters for ourselves and its a coping mechanism so emotions seep through unless we make a character/s that we want to share with others. It's also a way you can understand and grasp yourself better. In this particular setting, I think she means how through some characters she acted as (made by others) herself and emotions shines true,like that character and her acting were a mirror.

Third, it takes a darker turn, "when I'm smiling, you're screaming. When I'm angry, you're crying. When I'm sad, you're smiling". This could be her MADD taking a tool on her.

"When I'm smiling, you're screaming" like when you are content with reality but your addiction's screaming at you to be noticed, like an icky who wants to be scratched. The urge to do it despite not needing to.

"When I'm angry, you're crying" This is her "mask" empathizing with her, weeping for her anger and understanding it like no one else could.

"When I'm sad, you're smiling" this could be the situation from the first instance, but it takes a darker turn so I think the "mask" smiles because it knows that her sadness assures its existence.

Addiction is dependent on your sadness because you do it to comfort you through that sadness. Her acting and MADD is both her addiction and her elation.

From Sparkles tone, she might even be surprised at how, despite her deep sadness, the mask can still smile.

"You're like a face, steering at me" she says at the end. It brings back in mind the imagery of a mirror/reflection. But instead of a reflection, it's a different reflection, still a reflection, but not.

It reminds of when I see characters being depicted as steering into a mirror and they are smiling but their reflection reflects how they truly feel inside (emo ik)

I think that's what it's supposed to mean. Your true self steering at you, it's uncomfortable and penetrating.

Or maybe it's a blank face being unsurprised or just lacking any emotions or maybe the face itself is empty waiting to be drawn on an expression.

It's a very vague sentence, and I don't want to pretend like I 100% understand the meaning behind it, because it can be interpreted in very different ways and only an explanation by the one who said it can give us a sure answer. Maybe it's something we can't even understand with the info we currently have on her.

Overall, she holds positive feelings about her mask but she also recognizes it's kinda fcked up but she still chooses it at the end of the day for the elation it gives ("I am elation" ok girl.)

🌸In this section, I also want to come back to her:

Oh who is she?🎶~

Actually? Good question! :D

I think it was Sampo who commented that Sparkle's name is probably made up (which du uh)

But that is fascinating as well.

We see this girl at first in her trailer looking soft and innocent, nothing like the more.... eccentric person we know today.

If you look closely, she DOESN'T have the butterfly/flower(?) symbol in her eye at the start but she DOES at the end. Which to me represents how she and Sparkle were separate at the start.

"It doesn't matter how I am off stage.

When I'm on stage, I'm just Sparkle"

With the end of this video, this whole thing might be made up go, but that would be too pointless and annoyingly stupid so I'm inclined to believe she isn't fckin with us in this one. (for the most part)

That said, it seems like the girl Sparkle was before was performing for her love of acting, her madd, and for the audience.

But as time went on, doing all of this for an audience over and over lost its meaning (and probably drove her insane a little)

"When I realized that life was just a play, I wanted to leave the stage.

Because off stage, there is a even bigger stage"

Her acting, madd and elation shapes her way of seeing life and others. Why confine yourself to a stage when you can take yourself and your characters to the big stage of life itself and have fun with it the absolute bonkers way you want?

She is very much a Shakespeare truther, as he put it:

"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts."

That's how her acting made Sparkle see things (to an extreme )

🌸Another thing is this scene:

"Im.... I'm not Sparkle

No, I am Sparkle"

Both in her Myriad and Character Trailer, she is actively conflicting with herself.

In this moment. She shows opposition to "Sparkle". The physical constraint is interesting imagery as well. Maybe she feels trapped by "Sparkle"? Like "Sparkle" is against her? Why is she? Because she doesn't allow her to be Sparkle(/herself/her true self)?

She separates herself from Sparkle at the start but becomes her after and laments that she isn't her than at the end, and only then, her eyes have the same symbol this big eyes have in the back (Sparkles) eyes and she becomes Sparkle.

Which, um, IS SO INTERESTING!??!?!?!

I think at the end, she gives into her want to be Sparkle and fully embraces it. Fully embraces the path of elation.

And I don't think Sparkle isn't her. I think it's still her, just more free, unrestrained version of herself that doesn't hold back when the rest of society those.

Think like how different someone with social anxiety disorder is when they feel comfortable with summon and lets out their weirdness for example. We hold back on many actions because of societal perception but she stopped giving a fck and WILL set up a hundred "bombs" on a ship to fck with people for her own amusement.

Seeing life as a stage comes with seeing the absurdism of if all and choosing to stop giving a sht and have your own fun and entertainment. Play the roles you want to play instead of playing the part.

🌸As for my take on this part?

Yeah, maybe the whole thing wasn't her true backstory, but I think it's not 100% false either. Or maybe it is and she sees it as her playing another role. The role of her past self how is so so different it's her own character at this point, right? :))

It sure was more realistic than all the other stories going on in the background (like come on, Harry Potter, Sparkle playing Herta)

"Who is the real Sparkle"

Maybe the answer is all of the Sparkles are Sparkle.

Am I gonna elaborate? Mmm, nope. :)

--------------------------------------------------------------

*cracks knuckles* OOOOOKKK this turned out quite long Jesus (never put me to write something about a fictional character in a few paragraphs, that's physically impossible for me)

Don't worry though, I'm probably gonna make a part two soon 🙃 (analyzing her Character Trailer, her design, her in game animations, who knows what ales, etc etc~) (no we are NOT done, we. are absolutely. NOT done.)

Soooo can you tell how much I like Sparkle? She lives rent free in my mind actually.

There isn't enough talk about her more deeply despite how MUCH there is to ponder on so I have to take it upon myself to do it 😮‍💨

If you made it here..... will you marry me?🥹💍

NAH NAH NAH JUST KIDDING 🤭

But if you did then thank you for giving me the time of day and I hope this post spark(l)ed some curiosity and interest into this little hedonistic gremlin! :D

(also no, I don't ignore, justify or support her racist remarks)

I do these posts mostly for myself but someone else to respond back is really nice! :,)

Ok, I'm signing off for this one. See ya in part two 👋:)

[optimus-prime-advice]

Intro Post

So this blog exists to provide friendly and kindhearted advice, motivation, and positivity via the written voice of the fictional character Optimus Prime from Transformers. Everything is written by a normal, average guy without any professional background, and therefore a limit is set on what is and isn't going to be on this blog.

Rules of what is and isn't permitted will be below the cut, as well as a self-introduction of the weird little dude who runs this whole thing.

Anything which requires a licensed professional will not be addressed, and any asks, reblogs, or submissions regarding such subjects will be deleted, or reported to the proper authorities if necessary. Please reach out to licensed professionals with your concerns.

Basic coping techniques applicable to general everyday issues will be mentioned.

The blog will address average daily problems such as loneliness, curating personal environments, relationships (mainly platonic and familial), life maintenance, self care, self maintenance, etc.

Positivity is welcome. Negativity is not. Though I don't expect any, if hate is sent or spread, it will be disregarded entirely and deleted.

Expect uplifting Transformers memes and art. This is a blog geared towards happy things regarding Transformers in all adaptations.

Feel free to send asks to seek advice regarding any situation within the guidelines above.

This is an LGBT+ friendly space. Feel free to ask anything regarding advice, issues, assurance, etc. for LGBT+ problems and identities. Any and all hate geared toward these posts will be disregarded and deleted when possible. All LGBT+ haters will be blocked without interaction given. Don't feed the hate, share the love.

Donation or crowdfunding posts will not be shared or posted on this blog. They often contribute to anxiety, and therefore are counterproductive to the purpose of this blog.

Currently rant posts without the intent to seek advice are not permitted. I might eventually allow them but I will tag them accordingly if so. For right now, though, I will only reply to a rant if the end goal of said rant is to seek advice or motivation regarding the situation or subject.

Trigger warnings will be tagged accordingly. Each one will be tagged as "tw (word)" with (word) being the subject matter. If there's a trigger warning you'd like added within reason, or if I missed one, please feel free to send a message or ask with the post link if applicable, and I'll add it! I do have ADHD and it's quite easy for me to miss a tag sometimes, but I do my best to make sure I don't forget them for serious subjects.

Political subjects and matters will not be discussed or shared here unless the intent is to seek assurance and positivity, and such posts will be tagged as "tw political". It's no secret the constant stream of world issues and being subjected to them nonstop has a major negative impact on mental health. This blog aims to be a positive impact on mental wellness and health, and will therefore be avoiding all politics and political matters which have zero intentions of seeking a positive.

Feel free to ask anything anonymously, or request an ask you've sent to be answered privately. I'll respect this absolutely, and to the fullest extent. But just beware that anonymous asks cannot be answered privately.

I hope to have lots of fun and shared positivity with you guys, and provide everyone with some joy from the best fictional robot dad around!

Ok so here's some stuff about me, the Dwarf, the dude, the cat dad, who's behind the blog.

Hey y'all! I'm Magnus Hjaelmar! I'm a trans FTM gay author and artist! Currently 25yo. I'm on Cara if you like art. For writing, I'm on Substack! At the moment I'm working on a novel I publish there which is about Dwarves and uncovering the Dwarven Underrealm of Dramina!

I do a lot of renfaires and LARPing, always dressed and playing as a Dwarf for each one! (Can y'all tell I love Dwarves???)

I myself am disabled and autistic. I used to do MMA for 13 years consistently, up until chronic pain caused by arthritis and lupus took over.

I live in the USA, and have a cat son named Patron. This is him.

This baby man helps me lots with my PTSD, anxiety, and depression. Every time something's wrong, Patron is right there to make it better. He's a rescue from the streets of the city I live in a suburb of. He's also got anxiety and depression, and Patron always needs someone there with him or he gets supremely rambunctious to relieve his nervous energy. I could spend my lifetime taking about how purrfect and great my big chonky Patron is, more so than I could ever talk about myself. He, as of writing this, is 18lbs of fluffy love.

I met him at an adoption event where every cat was a kitten except for Patron and one other. And nobody at all was looking at this boy. I learned he'd been there longest of all, 2 years, and poor Patron was lying sad and disinterested inside his cage. I asked to see him, and immediately the dude perked up. I went to hug him, and the shelter was utterly astounded as he lay in my arms contently because, apparently, he hated being held! Of course I brought him home moments later, and he's been king of the house ever since!

Uhh... the only other thing y'all gotta know about me is that I'm a metalhead supreme, LARPer, and RPG player in videogame and tabletop formats! You'll find me any average day dressed in all black with chains, gauntlets, Mjolnir, a tattered jean vest covered in metal band patches, cargo shorts/pants or a battle kilt, all while I'm probably outside to grab mac and cheese and hot chocolate at some random unholy hour.

Anyway, yeah! That's me! And my son! Welcome to the blog, and I hope to bring some joy and happiness to your lives!!

[feyre-darling92]

An unfortunate event

Han Solo x reader

T/W: some violence, but we’re talking about star wars, nothing else, let me know if I missed anything

Word Count: 830

A/N: So, I came up with this idea and I couldn’t not write it so enjoy! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

At this moment I was regretting my life choices. Such as being born.

Alright, I am being overdramatic. I regret taking this job.

But let’s start from the beginning.

I am a Bounty hunter and a famous pilot. One of the best pilots If I might say so myself.

Of course, the other one was the famous Han Solo.

But I dare to say that I’ve never liked him. Always an idiot with a cocky smile.

  We, unfortunately, had been in a few missions together, but there was nothing beyond that.

I was assigned a new target. And I thought this would be easy, but little did I know.I was trapped with no way out, so I decided to run. The most stupid thing, but I had no other choice.

I had managed to pass through many troopers without being caught and would have managed to get out if I hadn’t fallen to a man who apparently was trying to do the same as me.

“Hey, watch out” I hissed angrily but then I lifted my head and saw who was standing in front of me.

Han fucking Solo.

“Solo”

“L/N”

“What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here, sweetheart? It’s a dangerous place to be alone”

“You don’t want to mess with me, Solo”

“If you’re trying to get the hell out of here, I can help you. If you help me”

“Why would I do that?”

“I don’t think you would like to stay”

“Me neither. What do I have to do?”

“You cover me till we get to the exit, I provide transport”

I thought about it for a second. If I helped him I would have free transport. But I would have to put up with him.

I sighed and took hold of my blaster.

“Deal”

“Good. Let’s go”

And that’s how I ended up running through an imperial’s ship hallway with him while being chased by stormtroopers. Good thing they didn’t know how to shoot.

“What are we going to do?” I asked while I kept running.

“There’s an exit near. If everything goes according to plan, Chewie will be here to get us”

“If we’re alive”

“I don’t have any plans involving death for this day”

I just rolled my eyes and kept running.

We stopped in a corner to check out if we were free to go but then I saw troopers coming from both corners.

“Shit” I muttered.

“At my signal, start shooting” he whispered to my ear, right before the troopers found us.

“Hey, you two! What are you doing here?” the trooper asked pointing his blaster at me.

“We were looking for something, right Y/N?” Han smiled innocently and you instantly agreed, coping with his action.

“I said, what are you doing here”

“Are you deaf?” I questioned.

“Alright, that’s it. You’re coming with us”

“Yes of course. Y/N, dear?”

This must be the signal I thought and turned around and started shooting, my back pressed against his.

Soon the troopers were down but I heard more coming.

“Let’s go, before they” I was cut off by a shot.

“Yep” we started running again, but this time I got hit in the knee and fell to the ground.

“Wha-” Han turned but the troopers were coming closer and closer.

“Run,” I said but instead of doing so, he lifted me and threw me over his shoulder.

“What the hell are you doing?” I yelled.

“You're welcome. Now, could you cover me while I carry you, darling?”

I sighed and nodded.

I started shooting the troopers and one by one were falling to the ground. In the meanwhile, my knee was killing me, the sensation of blood running down my leg and Han’s hands on my hips not helping with the situation.

Not being able to think about it more we finally found the ship that was waiting for us.

When we entered the ship Chewie was there waiting for us. When he saw us he said something I didn’t understand. Han was always the one to translate.

“He says he missed you”“I missed you too, chewie. Much more than your companion” I grinned.

“You're welcome”

“What?”

“Oh, sorry, I thought you said ‘thank you for saving my ass’”

“I saved your ass”

“You mean that I should have left you there? I will remember it the next time”

“Oh, darling” it was my turn to call him that “There won’t be next time”

Chewie then said something and Han stood skeptical. After a few seconds, his face lit up.

“What did he say?”

“You can stay and help. With the proper payment, of course. The truth is” he looked at me up and down “I could use someone like you”

“Oh, yeah? I thought my ass didn’t worth saving at all”

“Funny. What do you say?”

“Alright,” I smiled and gave him my hand. He took it and the deal was made.

“Now, let’s patch you up”

[spasmsofthought]

rituals. (zuko x water tribe!reader)

+This turned out to be far longer than I anticipated it to be, but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head. I’m sorry if Zuko feels out of character; I tried my best to not make him so. I wrote him in my mind to be older than 16 and with, at least, a year of Fire Lord experience with him. All of the things he says in this fic may not be completely on point, but I hope I made sense of his character in this situation and kept an accurate frame of reference for you to hold onto! 

I’ve been thinking: What would it have been like to marry the Fire Lord if you were an outsider, from another nation/element? And where that question led me is what produced this. 

I tried my best to have accurate research, but if something’s off or wrong, please kindly let me know! I’m not an expert about the fandom here. 

Otherwise, I hope you enjoy this mess of fluffy Fire Lord Zuko and a Water Tribe OC just trying to navigate the way between two different cultures. 

Read Part II here! 

Like, comment, reblog! 

--

“Thank you.” You smile softly as some Fire Palace officials make their way out of the giant, ornate room. Their faces are more stoic, but there is one older man who gives you a slight quirk of his lips before they are back in a thin line. He’s been the only one who has been semi-kind to you. The rest of them have just been rigid and downright insufferable. It takes a few moments before their footsteps recede and you are surrounded by silence. 

It turns out that the Fire Lord asking you to become his wife comes with a lot more than you thought it would. 

And of course, you had never been blind to the fact that Zuko is of royal lineage. His family has passed down the title and office of Fire Lord for generations. The people of the Fire Nation have known this family for over a century. 

The blood definitely feels thicker than water here, though Zuko’s own familial situation may testify against that. 

How naïve of you to think any of this would be simple and easy. Nothing about this past century has been.

You press your head to the solid table beneath you, hand-crafted and polished so that it shines like the stars you remember seeing at night back home. Frustration and stress knit your shoulders together, your arms curling in towards your midsection.  

Deep breath in, the voice of your mother reminds you. You can barely remember her face now, lost to time, but her voice still somehow stays clear. You hope it stays that way for a long time. Now let it go, she says, too. 

If you close your eyes, you can almost picture your little family’s home. The sea squid hanging out to dry so that it can be prepared for supper and her bed disheveled but lined with furs that keep you both warm at night and during the coldest days. It’s probably empty now, a home to no one. 

You exhale, forehead still pressed against the table. You repeat the process a few more times, trying to somehow expel the tightness of your shoulders. The weight stays. Despite whatever you may lose,  being with Zuko is the closest to home you will ever feel now. 

You get up from your seated position at the table and move to a window, looking down at the picturesque landscape of a quiet pond garden. You lean against a pillar supporting the ceiling and try to absorb yourself in the peaceful scenery. You close your eyes and try to listen to the sound of the soft breeze rustling the leaves of the tree. You just want it all to go away for a second.

“Have they exhausted you yet?” A gravelly voice behind you asks. 

You turn to see Zuko standing in the open doorway. He’s dressed in all his formal attire, of course, but he seems to carry his own weight on his shoulders today. 

Idiot, you think, of course he looks stressed and weighed down. He’s trying to re-establish peace among four nations after the 100-year war his ancestor started. 

“Yeah, sure.” You mumble and smile softly. 

The moment doesn’t last long before you turn back to the pond, stomach churning now. The grief and the stress mingle together. You miss home, you miss the weather and wearing your furs. You miss your parents, who have been gone for four years; your father to the war and your mother to sickness. The ache never seems to go away, but it dulls when Zuko is able to be around. 

Zuko makes his way to stand beside you, saying nothing as he directs his gaze also to the peaceful pond, undisturbed by people or the noise of the outside world. 

Despite what you had been told about the Fire Nation your whole life growing up, and what you’d been told about Zuko during the War, you’d always appreciated when he did this. Despite his title and the lineage he carries, he’s always treated you like an equal. You are no less to him because you are female, and you are no less to him because you come from the Water Tribe. 

If it had been a few years ago, you wonder if he would have thought differently. Or perhaps he has always been able to understand honor more than most since he was a child, and that was part of the reason he was the one who was destined to be Fire Lord all along. 

You take in the side profile of his face for a moment, trying to gather the strength you’ve always had inside you.  

“I don’t want to worry you,” You begin, turning back to the view of the pond. 

It’s still and quiet and sounds like a great place to escape to in this present moment. 

“I’ll let you know when I can’t handle it,” His sardonic tone answers back. 

You know he means it as a joke, but there’s a stark truth to his words. He’s handled much more than a trivial conversation about what may be bothering you.

You take a moment to organize your thoughts so that you don’t come across as an emotional train wreck. Zuko has always seemed to have infinite patience with you while you express your emotions, but emotional intelligence is new to him as well. You don’t want to burden him with trying to figure out your emotions while he’s trying to cope with and understand his own. 

“I just... I didn’t know how difficult this would be.” 

“What?” He sounds a bit surprised. 

“Adopting your culture as my own,” Zuko opens his mouth but you stop him before he can even begin. “From a shallow frame of reference, I had always known your culture and your people would be different than mine. And the time I spent traveling back and forth from the Water Tribe to here when I was only your girlfriend gave me some exposure, but I didn’t know. Not really. Most of your people have been so indoctrinated by nationalistic propaganda that our union wouldn’t have really even been conceivable a few years ago.” 

There’s another moment of silence as you take a breath and exhale it. In and out. Zuko doesn’t try to interrupt the moment with platitudes or words of comfort, and that’s another thing you’ve grown to love about him. 

He doesn’t say something he doesn’t mean. It’s not in his nature to do so. 

In allowing each of you to struggle with the weight of your words and emotions, he honors your emotions without dismissing them. Sometimes, it leaves you speechless because the practice is so ingrained in him, there are times he doesn’t even notice he does it. 

“I can adapt. That’s not what I’m worried about. My people are strong because we are so willing to adapt to change, just like the ocean: strong and flexible. I can belong here without losing myself. I just don’t have anything to bring with me. There is no recognition of my culture, and since these meetings have started a few days ago, I get shut down every time I try to bring something into what should be the happiest day of my life.” 

You turn to him also and take a step closer. His expression remains neutral and you can tell it’s going to take some time for him to digest all of this. For a moment, you place your hands on his chest, clothed with the finest robes available in the Fire Nation. 

“When I said yes to your proposal, to the reality of a life with you, I meant it with all of my heart. I still do. But I have nothing tying me to my homeland or the place of my birth like you do here.”

He looks like he has a thousand things to say, but then the words fade away before they even make it out of his mouth. Zuko’s face turns back towards the outside, looking out at the pond as a soft breeze again disturbs the tree by the water. He always gets this look in his eyes when he’s in deep thought. The dilemma is less with him and his position as Fire Lord and more with how to integrate you in his world without making you “fit in” in ways you were never supposed to. 

“If I’ve learned anything over the past few years,” He begins, still standing straight and looking outside. “It’s that nothing in the world is right if there is no balance.” 

He reaches inside his formal robe and pulls out a box. Your brows furrow in confusion, because Zuko is not one to give gifts. 

“I was going to give this to you later, but it seems like the right time now.” He shrugs and hands you the box while a hand goes to rub his neck. 

He always does this when he feels shy or flustered. It’s kind of cute to see the “decisive Fire Lord” act like a teen aged boy. He had rare opportunity to act like one before. 

The box is like a square and a silk ribbon is tied around it. Your fingers work at the knot while you raise your eyebrow at him. You place the ribbon on the windowsill once it’s unraveled and gently pull the lid off the box. It may have looked inexpensive, but you never truly knew in the Fire Nation. 

The thing inside almost takes your breath away. It’s all blue, every single bit of it. 

It’s a betrothal necklace. 

You didn’t even know Zuko knew they existed, let alone what it would have meant in your culture if he gave you one. (Granted, he’s already asked you to marry him, but for the moment you dismiss the thought.) 

It’s true, most marriages are arranged by parents or parental figures in the Water Tribe. Most people at home are not as lucky as you have been to freely choose a partner, whether inside the Tribe or outside of it. Sometimes it seems a more hollowed out gesture when neither party is truly looking to get married for love. But the ones that do always give the necklace its meaning and purpose. 

“I asked Katara for some help,” He began to explain as you stare at the necklace. “I didn’t know what I was doing or where I should go, so she was the one who guided me. She gave me some ideas of what the carving in the stone should represent, but in the end, I came up with the design by myself.” 

Zuko rubs the back of his neck again as you glance between him and the necklace. 

The choker is dark blue as always, but the color gives you some semblance of peace. Blue isn’t a very prominent color displayed in the Fire Nation. Indeed, the stone fastened to the choker has already been carved into. The design is somehow intricate and simple at the same time. It is intimate without being gaudy or overdone. It is all blue and reflective of the culture you grew up in and the one you still carry with you. 

“You carved it yourself?” You whisper, not doubting the answer but still needing to ask it. Zuko just nods and your eyes well up with tears. He doesn’t even know how sacred this necklace is to you in a place where no one else will ever understand its full importance and meaning. 

“Will you put it on for me?” You hand the necklace to him as you also discard the box on the windowsill and turn your back to him. You’re thankful your hair is already tied back (still adorned with various blue beads from your background) as you sweep it to the side so Zuko can clasp the necklace around your neck. 

The weight of it is unfamiliar but grounding. It anchors you to the truth. It reminds you that no matter what marrying Zuko looks like, you carry your culture with you wherever you go. The way you treat others, hold yourself, and what you, hopefully, pass down to your children is far more important than what traditions you do or don’t adhere to in a ceremony. 

“I’ll talk to the officials,” He offers as he clasps the choker together. “You should be able to have all the customs that are important to you when we get married. You have always been my equal, but this time it will be a fact and not just an assumption.” 

You touch the stone with your fingers as you turn back to face him. The tears are already sliding down your cheeks, but you also give him a sweet close-lipped smile. He knows but he doesn’t. And that is what makes him so beautiful. 

You cup his face between your palms and feel him relax a little. Physical affection had never been a priority in his childhood or adolescence, but you can tell he’s starting to understand why you think it’s important to give and receive it. 

“Thank you,” You say, smiling wider. 

You close the distance and bring your mouth towards his. The kiss is steady and soft but also full of unrestrained emotion. Zuko gives you a second one before you both pull apart. He just shakes his head. 

“I think I’m the one who should be thanking you.” He whispers back as he brings you to his chest. 

He is home now, and that is what matters. 

[tomtenadia]

A Little Braver - 17

So, as promised, part 17 is her.

Be prepared to submerge our bird boy with hugs, he will need them.

I promise the chapter will end in fluff and in a good note. The angst is only for the beginning. I need to douse it a bit since from ch 19 onwards the angst gremlin will be back with a vengeance.

I hope you will love it.

A big hug to all the people who commented, reblogged or loved this fic. Thanks to all of you.

A week had gone by and Aelin and Rowan had taken the official decision to try and go back and both deal with the mess of their lives. 

The week had been perfect. Rowan had taken her hillwalking everyday and slowly she had started to feel like herself again. His presence had helped immensely. In a very short time he had become her rock. Full recovery was still a long way ahead but she felt better and with him at her side she had no more panic attacks or nightmares. 

She felt sad at the idea of leaving the cottage in the mountains but they had promised to go back for some special occasion.

*

It was morning and Rowan was getting ready to go back to work. They had set a date for the inquiry on his student’s death and that would be the day.

For once Aelin was the one worried one. She could not forget his reaction to the movie or the night he came back drunk after Fuzzy’s death. She knew he had put up a wall but hoped he would at least let her in. 

“What are you going to do?” He asked her while adjusting his tie.

“I have a meeting with Dorian and the counsellor and then I will pop in at the station and say hi to the squad and apologise.”

“Good.” His tone was detached and she moved a step to him and hugged his waist from behind “are you okay?”

He sighed “nervous. This will mean revive the entire accident over and over again.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

He shook his head and kissed her “thanks for the offer but I will be fine. My squadron will be there and you have an important meeting as well.”

“Ok,” she wanted to believe him, but could not ignore his cold detached tone and Aelin had learned that it was his coping mechanism. He was not okay.

-

Rowan arrived at the airforce HQ and was met by Lorcan.

“Sir,” he stood to attention.

“At ease captain,” Rowan stood down from attention and placed his hands behind his back in a at rest pose “I am sorry it’s so quick. I knew you were coming back yesterday and I did manage to hold on until today.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Are you sure you are ready?” And for once Rowan heard concern in his CO’s voice “this is going to be brutal.”

“I know.”

“I am on the board too and we have Captain Walker from the 24th squadron and Captain Matthews from the 31st and two engineers. They have all copies of the inquiry sent to the board.”

“Who is the president?”

“Marshal Clark.” Said Lorcan in a preoccupied tone.

“Fuck. The man hates me with a vengeance.”

Rowan sighed again and sat on the bench just outside of the room used for the meeting.

His squad arrived a moment later and they patted each other’s back in support.

“We are all here.” Gavriel told him taking a seat at his side.

“Thanks everyone.”

One of the assistants appeared on the door and announced the board was ready to convene. Rowan quickly texted Aelin and switched off his mobile.

The marshal, being the president, was in the centre of the seating area. Rowan went to greet the other two captains with whom he got along nicely and had known for a long time. Then he went to the marshal and saluted as expected “at ease captain.”

Rowan went to his assigned seat and flipped through the folder in front of him. It contained all the documents they needed. His report of the accident, the reports from the engineering team and other supporting evidence.

Marshal Clark called everyone to attention and declared the board in session. He then proceeded to explain to the members the accident that had happened.

One of the engineers who had performed checks after the aircraft had been recovered was asked to present his findings “after the analysis of the recovered aircraft and after having studied the dynamics of the accident we have found out that the main cause for the engine failure was a disruption in the airflow in the port intake causing it to stall with enough yaw rate to induce a flat spin. Cadet Williamson, according to the records of the accident, flew in the jet wash of one of his classmate’s aircrafts. That caused the airflow disruption. The stall was unrecoverable.” explained the engineer reading from his report “with regard to the canopy, we have found a fault in some model of jets used by the students where the charges did not operate correctly, causing the canopy to separate incorrectly. All those planes are grounded and now being checked.”

“Thank you.” Said the marshal, then his gaze turned to Rowan “Captain Whitethorn, stand please.”

Rowan did so.

“Could you please re tell the board the events that lead to the death of the cadet?”

Rowan took a deep breath and retold step by step what happened. It was still vivid in his mind that it would take ages before he could forget it.

“Did you tell the cadet to eject?”

“I did, sir.”

“Why?” Asked the marshal with inquisitive tone.

“He had lost control of the aircraft. From the black box retrieved from his jet he had pulled 9g after he started spiralling. From my position I could see that he was about to pass out. Ejecting the seat had been the safest option. Little did I know that the canopy would fail.”

The two other captains nodded in agreement, knowing full well that they would have suggested the same thing.

“Would the cadet have survived if he had more high G training?”

“Sir,” Rowan almost growled at his superior “his jet was under 9g for almost ten seconds before crashing in the water. Not even an experienced and highly trained pilot can sustain or survive that.” He breathed again “and you know better than me that centrifuge training can be done only with some weekly limits due to its dangers.”

“Had the cadets received basic procedures on how to properly eject and when?”

“Yes, sir. It’s one of the first things they are taught. They are shown how to properly deploy their parachute and how to blow the canopy. Training is also done in different conditions to simulate possible combat scenery.”

“Training was not the issue here,” said Lorcan going in Rowan’s support “Captain Whitethorn is one of our most experienced instructors and hundreds of students have survived his crushing training and are still alive today because of what he has taught them.”

“The post mortem also backed the cause of death in the crash of the body against the canopy.” Added captain Matthews.

“What kind of training were you doing that day?” The marshal continued, ignoring the protests.

“We were going through some basic dogfight routines. The cadets were only five months out of the academy so we were just covering the basics as per fighter school curriculum.” Answered Rowan who felt lost all of a sudden.

“Would the manoeuvre you had practiced put the boy in a position to be in another jet’s wake? Didn’t you teach them how to stay away from the jet wash of another aircraft during a dogfight?” The marshal had an agenda, that was very clear to Rowan. He was trying to blame this on him.

Captain Walker stood angrily “why are we attacking captain Whitethorn? The problem was that the engine stalled due to the jet wash from another aircraft. An experienced fighter might have been able to find a way out of such deadly spiral, the gods know I have found myself in that situation and got out of it by pure damn luck. Not a cadet five months out of the academy. It’s our job to teach them such manoeuvres but only after they have mastered the basics.” He sat down again nodding at Rowan.

“A good instructor would have taught his students how to fly in close formation and to avoid the wake of a team mate. A captain should know what such manoeuvre could cause.” Continued the marshal who had taken the fight to Rowan.

Lorcan stood angrily “That is enough.” He shouted.

“I would suggest you to sit down, Air commodore.”

“Not when you accuse my best instructor of being the cause of the death of a student.”

“It is my job as president of this board to try and figure out what happened.”

“I told two of my students they were too close. I advised another one not to drop below hard deck. I care about the safety of my students.” Rowan almost growled at the marshal “also, I stand by my decision to order cadet Williamson to eject. Had the canopy worked he’d be alive now.”

The marshal nodded and with a bored expression he then went back to the engineering team and they discussed the canopy issue.

Rowan let them talk and his brain disconnected completely and tried to ignore the pain from what had just transpired.

He sat in silence listening to the rest of the board discuss in the background. 

The marshal eventually called the board to attention “Following the evidence provided by the engineering team and the testimony of captain Whitethorn I declare that the death of cadet Williamson was caused by the port engine stall due to airflow disruption in the intake. The commission also noted that the flat spin in which the cadet went in was not recoverable. Captain Whitethorn is cleared of any faults.” Rowan noticed the disappointment on the man’s face for the fact the had been cleared of any faults.

The marshal then turned to Lorcan “Commodore, I expect you to keep the students grounded until the training jets have been fixed.”

“Yes, sir.”

“The board is dismissed.” Clark stood and walked out.

The other two captain went to Rowan “I had no idea the bastard would try to blame you for this.”captain Matthews added with fury.

“I would have told my students to eject as well. It was the only option.” Added captain Walker.

But Rowan was not listening. It hurt too much, knowing that someone had tried to blame the death of his student on him. That the marshal had to question all of his choices and possibly his training methods.

Lorcan and his squadron were at his side as soon as the room was clear.

“The arsehole has some guts.” Commented Fenrys but Gavriel elbowed him.

Rowan stood in a daze and left the room ignoring the voices of his team calling him.

*

Aelin’s meeting with Dorian and the counsellor had gone better than she expected. Thanks to Rowan she had been able to open up and talk to them about what happened and how she had been before her escape and what had prompted her to flee. She admitted to them her fears.

She felt much better but she had confessed that she did not feel ready to go back in action. She felt okay about going back to the station and work from the office but was not ready yet to be in a fire. She was still too scared for that and Dorian and the counsellor accepted her admission.

So they had agreed for a transition period. Aelin was told as well to attend weekly sessions with the counsellor to track her progress and her mental health recovery. She would be on desk duty for a while and after that, Dorian was willing to send her back out but just at his side in a fire emergency allowing her again to be close to the fire scene and if that went well they could work on a plan on sending her back in. 

She had agreed with the final decision and had left the room with a smile and a light heart. She stopped in the corridor to check her phone but no news from Rowan. The meeting should be over by now. She hoped he was okay.

Happily she drove back to her squad and everyone was eager to catch up with her. Then Aedion stopped in front of her “never again,” he told her and Aelin went for a hug. He remained stiff for a moment, then his arms enveloped her in a bear hug “looks like your captain fixed you up nicely.”

“Hey, I would recover from anything if I had such man looking after me.” Said Ansel and everyone laughed.

“He has been nice to me.” But all she could think was his face from that morning.

 *

Rowan had been walking without a direction for a while now. He felt as if he had lost his rudder, he had spent the last twelve years of his life working for people who had been ready to blame on him the death of a student. He looked at his uniform and for the first time since he had worn it he felt no pride in it. He had been so tempted to resign his wings on the spot. No matter that he had been cleared, it stung so much, even if it had been the opinion of one man.

It had been too much. He knew the marshal was never a fan of his. The first student he had lost had been his son. But at the time as well the board had declared it had not been his fault. It had been the pilot’s mistake. The marshal never forgave him. Seeing him again at a board for a student’s death he had probably tried to punish him for what happened to his son.

In the distance he spotted a pub and decided that a drink might help. He got in and sat at the counter and ordered a whisky, but once the drink was in front of him he could not drink it. In his current state he would spiral down again to the same level of self destruction of many years before when he lost the marshal’s son and he could not do that again. He could not put Aelin through that pain.

So he did the only sensible thing. He called her.

Aelin was in the common room with the squad and they were having fun and the guys were telling her about some of the calls they had and then they were teasing Luca and his upcoming exam.

She was about to tell them to stop picking on him when her phone went off. It was Rowan and her heart stopped. 

She quickly left the room and went outside, sitting on the bumper of one of the engines “hey,”

“Hi,” his voice was low and flat and she feared for him.

“What’s wrong.”

Silence.

“Ro, are you okay?”

“No.”

Shit. She stood and started pacing “where are you?”

“At a pub.”

“Which one.”

He told her the name.

“I am coming. Just stay there.” And closed the conversation and almost laughed at the irony of the situation. A week before she had been at the receiving end of such conversation.

She ran back to the squad “guys, I need to go. Rowan. It’s not good. I just have to go…”

She didn’t even wait for an answer. She just rushed back to her car and drove to him. He did not sound drunk so maybe it was not all lost.

She arrived at pub not long after and stormed in. Rowan was sitting at the counter staring at a glass of whisky in front of him.

“Ro.” She walked to him and his green eyes fell on her. There was pain in them, so much pain.

“You are not drunk,” she told him.

“He ordered the whisky two hours ago and had been staring at it ever since.” Said the bartender.

“Hey,” she caressed his head and he closed his eyes at the touch “what happened?”

He shook his head “not here.” He stood and Aelin followed then came back and chugged down the abandoned whisky and went after him.

He was walking away and she ran after him “wait, you have long legs, damn you.” He extended an arm behind him and Aelin grabbed his hand “fine, we are outside, spill the beans.”

She definitely had no tact.

He walked silently a bit longer until they reached a small park and he sat down on a bench and Aelin took a spot at his side never letting his hand go.

And then he told her. Everything that had happened in the room. The results of the inquiry, the marshal’s accusations. The identity of the first student he had lost and his desire to quit.

“I wanted to throw my wings in the marshal’s face.” He looked down dejected “I feel lost now. I want to go back to my students, I owe it to them, to teach them how to be safe. But everything else… I don’t care about it anymore.” his head leaned against her shoulder and Aelin brushed his head with her hand and kissed it tenderly “Ro, how can I help you?”

Rowan turned his head to her and she thought his eyes were wet with tears “what you are doing just now is enough. Having you with me helps.”

“Do you need to go back to the airbase now?”

Rowan nodded sadly.

“Ok, I’ll drive you.” Aelin stood and Rowan followed but before moving he pulled her to him and drew her in for a kiss “I love you.” He said quietly.

She flicked his nose “let’s go.” She offered him her hand and together they walked back to her car.

They arrived at the airbase not long after “do you need me to come in?”

Rowan shook his head “my team is there. I will be fine. Gav will stop me from doing anything stupid.”

“Good. I am going back to the station.” She leaned forward to kiss him “Will you be okay? I am worried about you.”

“I am a big boy.” He joked.

“Ro…”

He leaned forward and kissed her “I do love so much when you call me Ro like that…”

Aelin smiled against his lips “don’t do anything stupid and tomorrow you can ravish me all you want. You can even be super creative.”

“How can I refuse such proposal?” He kissed her again “I will be fine.” His hand went to the door handle and opened the door “I will see you tomorrow morning at home. Have a nice night shift.”

Aelin’s heart swelled with joy at the word home. Their place. They hadn’t made it official but her house had become home. Their home. And she loved the feeling of it.

“Think creative, captain.”

He winked at her and left the car. Then he waved at her and Aelin left, he put his cap on his head and headed back inside the airbase.

-

Rowan made his way to Lorcan’s office and took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

“Come in,” came from inside.

Rowan entered the room and Lorcan looked up at him and he did notice the expression of disbelief in his CO’s face.

“Rowan —” but the other man stopped him.

“Thank you for today. For the support.” Rowan said quietly sitting on the chair in front of his CO.

“The man was out of line.” Lorcan growled “he knows what kind of instructor you are. How strict you are. The man was trying to get you sacked as a punishment for his son’s death knowing full well that again it was not your fucking fault.”

Rowan looked away, shutting away the painful memories.

“I already sent orders to start working on the canopies and check them all.”

Rowan nodded silently.

“I know what we can do to cheer you up.” Rowan turned his head staring at a surprisingly cheery Lorcan. Elide was really doing miracles.

“Grab you gear and let’s get out in the air, this man here needs to fly. It’s been so long that it’s a miracle I can still be called a pilot.” And he chuckled.

Rowan stood “Fine, be ready to be crushed.”

Lorcan grinned and stood as well “Oh, I submitted a proposal to allow women to serve in the airforce.”

Rowan’s head whipped to one side “who are you and what have you done with Lorcan Salvaterre?”

“The captain and Elide. Turns out we have both chosen very strong women.”

“I like that.”

“Me too.”

Rowan was doing his pre-flight checks when he noticed Lorcan joining him. The man had always exuded charisma.

“You should really send Elide a picture of you in a jump suit. I know how much Aelin likes it, I guess Elide might appreciate it too.”

Lorcan lifted an eyebrow while he reached his jet and popped open the canopy “you think?”

Rowan nodded “how is it going with her by the way?”

“She is incredible. She is tiny but fierce and stubborn and quite amazing.”

Rowan could not believe it, Lorcan was in awe of someone a feat that he thought was impossible.

“You are in love with her.”

“I think so.” said Lorcan hiding the words in a cough, almost embarrassed by his admission.

“Good.” Then he stared at Lorcan and he realised that going out out for a flight had been a good idea. They were evenly matched in skill and it was going to be a fun one. They had a few turbulent months but he had more or less always got along with him. Flying together again felt like the good old times.

“You missed a spot.” Rowan pointed at one section under the wing. 

Lorcan replied with a middle finger and it felt nice to have their old banter back when Lorcan could finally put aside his CO mask for a while.

“I am not a cadet, I know how to do my pre flight checks.”

“Well, you are not following the order we were taught at flight school, cadet Salvaterre.”

“Stop being a smartass, cadet Whitethorn.”

Rowan climbed in his jet and finished his checks inside and communicated with the tower to finalise the flight plan and get the authorisations required.

“Come on Lorcan, you are so slow. Tower gave us the all clear and the flight plan is in. Are you sure you still remember how to fly? Do you need any pointers, Chaos?”

Chaos was Lorcan’s callsign and he had earned it very early in his career for his flying skills.

Eventually they were both ready and the two jets got taxied away and not long after they were in the air.

“Rules of engagement: anything is allowed and two out of three?”

“Copy that, Iceman.”

“Good, be ready to lose.”

The two jets broke apart and went in different directions and for a while they just ran in circles above the airbase to study each other.

Lorcan hadn’t wanted to admit that he was a bit rusty and Rowan was indeed a nasty customer. 

Gavriel and the three young pilots were walking along one of the long corridors on the airbase when they heard the sound of jets in the air and ran to the next window to look who it was. The classes for the cadets were still grounded and the three of them were on ground.

“Holy fuck,” muttered Gavriel when he realised who was out flying.

He ran out to the viewing tower followed by the twins and Vaughan.

“Is that who I think it is?” Asked Connall speechless.

“Rowan and Lorcan.” The older man turned to the three young guys “you are in for a treat, they can make you feel like a newbie.”

Gavriel saw Rowan pull in a vertical and flying into the sun, roll on his back and continue in  straight line flying just a meter above Lorcan, finally flipped his jet once again and placed himself at Lorcan’s six.

Lorcan tried some evasive manoeuvres but Rowan did not let go, always at his tail attempting to get a lock on his CO.

Lorcan felt trapped and as a last ditch he went into a high G barrel roll to try and shake off Rowan.

“Rowan is going to overshoot,” said Connall who was silently watching the dogfight between their superiors.

Then Rowan pulled a trick out of the hat and kept his jet in line with Lorcan’s then rolled and found himself upside down and fired at the other man.

“Holy fuck,” was Fenrys’ comment at the scene.

“What did just happen? How did he even manage that?” Added Vaughan.

“That is Rowan for you. Now you realise why we can’t ever win?”

“One nil for me, Chaos.”

“You are a sneaky bastard, Whitethorn. And where did you learn such manoeuvres?”

Rowan laughed over the comms “get your act together, Commodore, and you can probably get me.”

The dogfight between the two went on for much longer. Lorcan did manage to win an engagement but Rowan still won 2-1. They landed back and they found Rowan’s team waiting for them.

“Good to see you two flying again. The youngsters never had the chance to see the pros at work.” Said Gavriel relieved that the two men seemed again at ease with each other.

“Oh, yeah. Our dear CO was a bit rusty and I took him out to stretch his legs and I handed out his arse to him twice.”

Lorcan gave him the middle finger in response.

*

Elide was in the ambulance doing some inventory checks when her phone pinged. She opened the text from Lorcan and almost fainted on the spot. It was Lorcan in his jump suit beside his jet and the man actually had a hint of a smile on his face. The second image was of him and Rowan standing back to back, their arms folded at their chest and both had a goofy smile on.

She jumped off the ambulance and ran to Aelin who was in the equipment room checking out their gear “Ace, look!” She shouted as she stormed in.

“What?” And she looked at the two pictures on Elide’s phone.

“Interesting…” Aelin stared with curiosity at the picture of the two men.

“He is soooo hot, I have never seen him in a jump suit and gods I don’t know? Want to remove it one bit at a time?”

Aelin laughed “that’s what I would do to Rowan right now if we were together in a private place. I would peel that jump suit off him until he is naked in front of me.”

She saw Elide blush “Lorcan and I haven’t… passed the kissing stage yet. He has never touched me. He is very considerate of me. But a few times he hugged me and I… felt him.” And she made a gesture and Aelin understood.

“Elide that is normal. How do you feel about the next stage? Like exploring each other’s bodies?”

“As in naked?”

“Yes, but you can start with keeping your underwear to have a barrier on if it makes you feel better.”

Elide sat on the bench beside her “I don’t know how to do this. How do I touch him?”

Aelin could see panic rise in the woman “ask him to show you and then once you feel brave enough to try just give it a go. It can be quite fun.” Aelin stopped for a second trying to find a way to tackle the next issue “Elide, have you ever… you know… explored your body? Down there?”

Elide blushed savagely “no.”

Aelin took the woman’s hand “take a nice warm bath and then…” Aelin wiggled her fingers “just put a hand between your legs and see how it goes, what you feel.”

“Oh.”

“At least once you two take the next step you have an idea of how it feels.”

“And Lorcan does that as well?”

Aelin nodded “yes, and if the man is as good as the others claim he might leave you a satisfied mess just with his fingers or mouth or both. A sort of appetiser before the main course.”

“Do you and Rowan…?”

Aelin nodded “and not just him to me but me to him as well.”

“This sounds so much.”

“Elide, look at me.” Aelin placed her hands on the woman’s shoulder “you do not have to take the next step until you are okay with it. Talk with Lorcan. Explain to him that you are getting curious and want to try more. You can use a safe word so that when you start to become uncomfortable, you shout that word and he has to stop.”

“Oh.”

“He hasn’t rushed you or anything?”

Elide shook her head “no, he has been so understanding, and never pushed.”

“Good. You set the pace. You are the one who needs time so he adjusts to you, remember. But if you feel like you are ready for another step just tell him.”

“Is it… is it as good as everyone says? Is it worth it?”

Aelin nodded “with the right person is something incredible. The intimacy… the connection…”

“Do you have that with your captain?”

“Yeah, and some.”

“Uhhh… are we getting serious?”

Aelin looked away for a moment “I loved Sam. A lot. We were good together but it was never like this. Never this deep.” She threw her head against one of the jackets “I don’t know how to explain it but my feelings for Rowan are so strong that sometimes I feel like I can’t breath.”

“I want that too.”

A moment later the conversation was interrupted by Lysandra entering the room “Here you are, why are you hiding?”

Elide showed Lys Lorcan’s picture.

“Oh mama…”

“Elide is feeling… curious.”

Lysandra hugged the woman “that is wonderful, darling. With such a specimen I’d be curious too.”

“Lys.” Shouted Aelin laughing.

“What? Fine the man can be an arsehole but I can’t deny that in that picture he is one hot bastard.”

“Show her the other.”

Elide showed Lysandra the picture with both Rowan and Lorcan.

“Ok, I really need a cold shower now.”

“I am pretty sure Aedion is available. Just keep it quiet.”

Lysandra laughed “don’t you think I tried? He said it would be against the rules.”

“I am almost done with equipment checks. This room will be free soon.”

“You are a wicked woman.” 

Aelin winked.

“Did you do it in here with the captain?”

“No, but his office is quite comfortable.”

“Nice.” Commented Lysandra.

Lys then took Elide’s hand “come on, we got a couple of things to finish.”

Once the two ladies left she phoned Rowan and he picked up at the first ring.

“I am jealous, Lorcan sent a picture of the two of you to Elide and I don’t get a copy?”

“You liked that?”

“You were both smiling.”

“We talked,” added Rowan “Lorcan was even more pissed than me. I think Elide did the miracle.”

Aelin laughed and relaxed at his admission “how so?

“He chuckled. Lorcan chuckled.”

She heard mirth in his voice.

“And the man is totally in love with Elide. I swear I never heard the man talk like that about a woman.”

“Interesting.”

“Also, apparently he has decided to support my idea of having women in the airforce and submitted a proposal to the higher ups and he is prepared to fight for it.” He told her, knowing she would love the news.

“Ok, I might finally start to like the man. What changed?”

“You and Elide apparently.”

Aelin smiled smugly “so he does listen, I am impressed. I don’t think I can cope with the idea of Lorcan not being the bad guy.”

“His job is very stressful and I don’t think I could be able to cope with the amount of shit he has to deal with.” He sighed “put me in a cockpit surrounded by enemies and I will be fine. But the idea of being stuck behind a desk playing the political game day in day out…. no. I will retire before it happens.” He added sadly.

“So, what’s on the agenda for the rest of the day, captain?”

“I am helping him with a few things. Then do more prep work for our performance review.”

“Do you think you are ready for that?”

She heard a lot of noise in the background and she guessed he was back in the hangar.

“Aye, we are good to go.” He was silent for a moment “I have to go, Fireheart.”

“Sure. Be safe and have a nice drill.”

“I love you. Have a nice night shift.”

“Send me that picture, Whitethorn.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She closed the conversation and relaxed heavily. Rowan sounded so much better and she was smidge less worried. With a big smile she went back to her work.

*

It was past 9pm and Aelin was in her office working away on some paperwork Dorian had sent over. She had a good day. It had felt good being back and she realised that Rowan’s help and their time away had helped very much. She felt saner and being at the station did not cause any problems. She was not ready yet to go back fighting fires, of that she was well aware. That was the last challenge she had to face but she and Aedion had discussed a training regimen that would slowly allow her to find the courage again to go fully back on duty and she felt excited at the idea.

She had been so engrossed in her work she did not hear the knock on the door. When it happened a second time she slowly raised her head “come in.” She said flatly and almost annoyed. 

A head of silver hair appeared on the door and she stopped “am I interrupting?”

“Of course captain. How dare you?”

He smiled and took a step in “I can go if you are working.”

Aelin rolled her eyes “get your arse inside and give me fifteen minutes of silence.”

He nodded and walked to her bookcase, giving her his back. His hand behind his back, his spine ramrod straight and his feet slightly apart in a perfect at ease position. She grinned. You could take the man out of the military but not the military out of the man.

She stopped working and rested her chin on her hands and a pen in her mouth. She studied him from behind and was impressed how still he could stay. A feat that had alway been impossible to her. 

Rowan grabbed one of her manuals and started flipping through it. It was only fair, she had done the same to his flight manuals. 

“A chemistry book?”

She eventually decided to stand and join him at his side.

“I hated chemistry in school. I was good at it but never liked it. I preferred physics.”

Aelin smiled and grabbed another book: fire science “this one might be more interesting.”

He had a look through it and smiled at her “can I take it at home or do you need it here?”

“You can take it home.”

Rowan smiled and placed the book on the sofa then cupped her face “hi, by the way.” And he kissed her.

“About time. I thought you were more interested in my books than me.” She teased him, pulling away briefly.

“You told me to stay silent for fifteen minutes. I was just following orders.”

“Screw that.”Aelin switched off her computer and walked to him, palm upturned, offering him her hand “follow me captain.”

“Do I need to be scared?”

She glared at him.

They walked along the corridor of the fire station and it was so silent and quiet compared to what he had seen during the day “where is everyone?”

“Resting. We got beds, you know? But Brullo and Ress are probably up watching tv as usual.”

They walked through the common area and as Aelin suspected the two guys were watching some  series on tv.

“Hi guys,” she greeted them.

They raised their heads “hi boss,” then noticed Rowan “oh captain, you found her. Good.”

“When I walked in I announced myself. I could not just waltz in.”

“Come on,” she grabbed his hand. Aelin dragged Rowan to the area where they kept the fire engine and the truck. She moved to the engine and opened a door on the side and pulled out two thick blankets then with them under her armpit, she started climbing the ladder at the end of the rig “Come on captain.”

Rowan looked at her puzzled.“Where are you going?”

He saw her rolling her eyes “on top of the rig.”

“If the alarm—”

“Captain, if the alarm goes off we have enough seconds to get our arses back down. They will not drive away with us on top of the rig. Do you trust me?”

He looked at her in a strange way.

Aelin threw the blankets on the top of the engine and climbed back down and marched to him, grabbing his hand “move.”

With force she dragged him to the ladder and prompted him to climb. He did as ordered and once at the top he stopped. Aelin stopped behind him, then in a swift motion she pulled her leg over the engine rail and climbed on its roof.

She took the blankets and placed them on top of all the hoses “it smells a bit of smoke. You’ll get used to it.”

He climbed over and stood for a second admiring the view from on top of the engine. When he turned he saw Aelin laying down on the blankets, her arms extended to him and a goofy smile on her face. He joined her and took a place at her side.

She nested against his chest and his arms looped around her frame.

“I come up here a lot on a night shift. I don’t sleep, I just relax, I love to imagine I am laying on the grass and that if I look up I can see the stars.”

“I do that when I am on an aircraft carrier and I am not on standby. I just walk on the deck along the rail, although is not as quiet as here as there are still flights happening, but it’s less busy. I just lean against the handrail, near the island and look out at the sea and I my case I can see the stars.”

Aelin turned in his arms and faced him “can you navigate by just using the stars?”

“We don’t use it much, GPS is a very handy tool, but it’s a skill we learn in case something fails and you are left with no GPS or any other electronic help.”

“What about you? Had a good day at the station?” He kissed the top of her head.

Aelin nodded eagerly “yes, I admitted I had a problem out loud and both Dorian and Aedion have offered to help in anyway they can.” She looked up at him “and you… you helped so much… and still helping…”

He smiled tenderly “it goes under my job description for boyfriend, I assume?”

She caressed his face loving the sound of him calling himself her boyfriend.

“Say it again,” she whispered to him.

“What?”

“That you are my boyfriend.”

He went for a deep kiss “I am yours.”

Aelin smiled against his lips “those are powerful words, captain.”

“They are true, though.”

Aelin’s heart raced and her hand went to his chest and found his doing exactly the same.

“I love this. Us. I really do…” she stuck her head in the crook of his neck inhaling his scent “but it still scares me because it happened so fast. One day I wanted to punch you, the next I wanted to kiss you. And it frightens me. I want this to work. I want us to work out.”

His hand covered hers still on his chest “you are not alone. This is a lot for me as well. But I am done fighting my feelings.” He hugged her closer “I love you, even when this world is a forgotten whisper of dust between the stars, I will love you.”

Aelin kissed his chest “you are so cheesy it’s disgusting.”

Rowan pushed her away and she rolled on her back at his side, her hand still in his “I was trying to be romantic and you ruined the moment.”

She smiled “sorry, I used to do that with Sam all the time. He would say something super romantic and I would respond with a joke. When he proposed I replied that I had to check with my lawyer first.”

“You are a brat.”

“It was so funny. Then I texted him and said that my lawyer had agreed.” Aelin brought their twinned hands to her mouth and kissed them “I showed him later on that night in bed how much I wanted to marry him. He did not complain.”

“You really are a handful.”

“I know, but now you picked me and there is no turning back.” She said against their hands fearing she had gone too far.

“I love a good challenge.” He rolled over and was now half on top of her, his hand on her side caressing her gently.

Aelin grabbed his face in her free hands and kissed him stupid but Rowan pulled back when he remembered where they were. He was still terrified they would drive away with the two of them on top of the engine.

He lay back down and his hand started trailing along her injured arm exposed by the short sleeved shirt. The burns had healed but the skin remained marred. He traced the length of it and leaned over to kiss it.

“Does it bother you?”

“No,” he said softly while continuing to kiss her injured arm and her scars “you are my brave and fierce Fireheart. It scares me that I almost lost you. But you scars…” another gentle kiss “they don’t bother me.”

She snuggled closer and he enveloped her in his arms.

“I forgot.” He propped himself up on one elbow “I have received an invitation.”

“Oh?” Aelin did the same and faced him.

“This weekend the navy is throwing a launch party for the new aircraft carrier, down at the dockyards before she is set at sea for the trials and then off to deployment.” He explained “Me and the guys have been invited and I can bring a guest. Fancy being my plus one?”

“Are we going public, captain?”

“If you want to.”

Aelin thought about it “I could wear the stunning black dress I bought in Doranelle.”

Rowan remembered that dress and the effect it had on him when she wore it in the shop.

“Are you trying to give a heart attack to the whole Terrasen military?”

Aelin giggled “just going to show all those posh boys what an amazing taste in women you have.”

“That I do.” He flicked her nose.

Aelin was about to reply when dispatch alarm went off and she bolted on her feet and pulled Rowan up and grabbed the blankets “come on, captain.”

She climbed down super quickly and by the time he made it down, the blankets were back in the truck and the squad was getting ready to go.

“Showing the captain your special spot?” Joked Aedion.

Aelin nodded and patted his shoulder “keep the guys safe and you stay safe too.”

“Always.” Quickly Aedion ran to the truck and a moment later the squad was gone.

“It’s hard to see them go and not being able to be with them.”

He pulled an arm around her shoulder “come, I’ll make you hot chocolate.”

She followed him “that’s exactly how you woo a woman, captain.”

TAGS:

@rowaelinismyotp​

@jlinez​

@swankii-art-teacher​

@courtofjurdan​

@whimsicallyreading​

@tillyrubes10​

[alatismeni-theitsa]

About refugees and immigrants in Greece (improved version)

>>> I changed some parts of the last post as new information have come to my attention. If you have reblogged the previous version, please delete it and reblog this version. <<<

The situation is complicated.

Most refugees come to the islands of Northeast Aegean (to the point of the islands being described as “ready to sink”) despite Syria being here:

This means they come from Turkey, which is the first country they have stepped on after theirs. This makes things complicated as, according to the Dublin Regulation, a country can reject a person’s asylum application if they have already been granted protection by another country. For many years Greece considered Turkey to be safe for refugees but not every country agrees on this. Many believe that Turkey cannot guarantee that the rights of all refugees will be safeguarded in line with the Refugee Convention l.

Greece stopping the asylum process violates Human Rights and this blog doesn’t defend this decision from a legal point of view. It is important to recognize that so many refugees have come to Greece that the country can no longer cope with the number of refugees it hosts. This makes the situation worse for underpriviledged groups who are already in the country (refugees who have come before included). I will explain this in a while.

Many of the people who arrive on boats are not war refugees.

Along with Syrians come people from a lot of other countries who want to seek a better life in Europe. The thing is, they do it illegally AND take the seats of the Syrian people. In 2020 it’s estimated that only 22% of people who land on Greek islands are Syrians feeling war.

Take for example the statistics from the end of 2019:

(Source)

Out of 87.461 applicants 71.295 are not from Syria. The Syrians make up only the 19%! (And the Syrians are almost always accepted, as you see on the board - and as you will see later).

So, this doesn’t mean that every person who arrives in Greece is a war refugee and automatically deserves asylum.

Most of refugees are taken in and taken care of (we are doing whatever we can).

As a Greek person said: “It’s not that the government has done/is doing mistakes when it comes to refugee crisis, but as someone living in Rhodes I feel it is unfair to blame Greece for not doing enough. Most people try to help in every way they can, and I really wish we could help each and every refugee. This however is unrealistic, we still try our best though. Also, it is unfair that Greece, Italy and other southerner countries get the blame, while northern european countries simply refuse to help...”

And it’s true. Myself and most of Greeks have helped refugees and immigrants in many ways either by donating money, objects and food or directly helping in the camps.

For so many years Syrian’s protection was almost always granted. (Source)

The camps are not the best solution.

Just see the living conditions Greece has to offer to those who come (remeber, Greece already does whatever it can):

(Source of the tweet thread)

Doctors without Borders describes the situation as unsanitary and dangerous!

(Source)

If you are very lucky you have these conditions:

Let’s take for example the Moria camp in Lesvos. As of March 2020 there were 20.000 people there but the camp has capacity for 3.000 people. This is an example of what Greece’s broken economy is able to provide to refugees.

To make things worse, other European countries also return refugees to Greece when they don’t want them, as Greece was their entry point in the EU (yes, this is legal). This means more and more people will be pushed into those conditions.

The situation has brought Greece to its knees (that’s why we can’t do more).

As one another Greek said: “I keep seeing posts about how evil Greece is for not wanting any more refugees/illegal immigrants we can't economically support and how we used the pandemic to close our borders (as if every single country in the world didn't also do the same) made by upper middle class western leftists that only think of us as a tourist destination or uneducated fools”

And I agree. As if we don’t have many underprivileged people, immigrants and refugees in Greece who will be harmed the most with the further influx of more people (who also haven’t been tested for the virus). I understand that not accepting refugees of war is extremely bad and I wish we could do more. At this moment we are not able to do whatever we can, though.

Helping people should be a given but to the point of not compromising your own citizens’ safety. Greeks have the right to safety and health, as well. 

Europe is only offering more money, which doesn’t fix a problem.

The matters Greece faces are financial and the money not enough. The money will never be enough for this situation. The matter is mostly practical. Thousands of people are landing here by the week. Physically, our forces are cannot do much.

A small country like Greece has taken 40% of Europe’s refugees because the other European countries won’t let them in, as they feel comfortable using our already damaged country as a refugee hub (same goes for the NPOs, which don’t care about the wellbeing of the people who are already in Greece).

IF YOU ARE POINTING THE FINGER AT DAMAGED GREECE FOR NOT DOING "ENOUGH” GET YOUR PRIVILEDGED ASSES OUT OF HERE! DO YOU THINK EVERY COUNTRY HAS YOUR RESOURCES?

The Turkish government also plays a role.

I don’t think they care about the immigrants coming here. They have taken so many in that it has an effect on their economy and they want to pass them to us. I agree that those people should be given refuge and no country should have its economy blown because of that. A lot of European countries can help to aleviate the situation in Turkey (and in the Balkans) but they don’t do it.

What should be done?

Greece should be held accountable for the violation of Human rights but nobody seems to care about the tragic situation in the country that led to this taugh decision. Western countries hiding behind the war in Syria refuse to take responsibility and leave (even return) the Syrian asylum applicants in Greece. Greece is treated as a refugee hub and this results in worse conditions for citizens and non citizens. ____________________________________________________________ 

If you don’t live in  Greece and having seen the refugee situation first hand please refrain from touching this post. As the Greek saying goes: Outside the dance you  are able to sing a lot of songs (as opposed to the people who are in  the dance). And you are outside the dance right now.

[saltyyashahime]

Hello, I am a CSA survivor too and am struggling to cope with the idea that so many people are okay with such an abusive ship. What do you do to feel better about this situation? It deeply saddens me to see people be so sick and gloss over such a heinous thing

Hello Hun,  Firstly, I am sorry this happened to you. A trusted person should have never taken advantage of your trust.  TW: CSA/ CHILD ABUSE - I won’t really be discussing much but to cover my ass.  I knew SessRin was a possibility early on. Anyone who says Anti’s didn’t clearly hasn’t been listening. I knew I would never be okay with it in any context, though I thought they would have bother to make it more acceptable by “making her an adult” and “making it obvious this was Rin’s choice”.  So far yashahime has done neither. I really felt when the Imagine of Rin and the twins dropped that I had been punch in the gut. That I had been lied to through out the start of this series (feminist show my ass), and that everything I had watched in my early teens was wrong.  And then the interviews came out. Then the Anti’s grew. This little (or large) community. The honest translators who translate what is written regardless of if it’s favourable or not have helped me sort of come to terms with what has gone down and I still can’t watch the OG the way I used to. Those scenes of her as a child are always used to show the basis of their supposed “adult ship” and it makes me uncomfortable. With time and distance that may change. No. I’m not okay with SessRin, and shippers can come waste their dying breaths trying to make me accept canon.  The director himself came out and said SessRin was not in Inuyasha/The Final Act. So while I still cannot watch the OG series at the moment without seeing Red or wanting to Vomit, I am starting to heal from the the kick in the gut that was episode 15. (Honestly though, hearing Rin say Lord Sesshomaru the way that she did made me want to throw up).  How do I cope with Shippers?  Honestly I don’t bother with them. They’ve always been here. There’s always been those shippers in every fandom that seem to think abusive/incestuous etc. relationships are fun to write. Some are even CSA survivors that use it to cope (though most, I would argue are not). Instead of bothering with them, I speak openly here. With my fellow Antis and with adults in Real life who are just as horrified as I am about the revelation.  How do I feel better?  Sometimes I walk away from tumblr (I don’t engage with Yashahime anywhere else). I roleplay with my friends. Sometimes I scream or cry if I need to. I talk to people about what I’m feeling. I talk to my therapist. I go eat a whole thing of chocolate. If this nonsense weighs me down I practice self care. Sometimes I express myself on here, when I feel okay with the idea that whatever I put on here will possibly be screen shot and used on the anti sessrin circus blog. You know- because that Simple Bitch loves to mock CSA survivors. I don’t engage with shippers or look at their tags. Anything I see or comment on is in the main tags or under anti posts or is reblogged from antis. I don’t cross tag (if shippers see me it’s a glitch on tumblr and that is not my fault). I remember when the MeToo movement was so strong. I remember repeating my story and getting so upset that people wouldn’t listen. It was very triggering. I had to walk away from the internet or certain tags. Remember not everyone is okay with SessRin. Remember that these people have been affected by years of media that had young girls being in love with much older men, especially in anime. Remember you don’t have to accept Canon.  This is the only fandom that screams Canon like it means anything.  Just remember it’s okay to feel frustrated, angry, disappointed, sad, hurt etc. by all of this. Don’t let shippers gaslight you into swallowing your feelings about your Trauma. I do the things I can to make space for people. I’ve emailed companies, I’ve tweeted the companies. I’ve done everything in my power to express why I think Yashahime is a pile of garbage that deserves to be forgotten. At the end of the day, that is all I can do. That and self care.  So if you’re feeling something, it’s okay to feel that and to discuss that within fandom spaces. DM me, send as many asks as you need, just don’t feel you have to suffer in silence and you’re not alone. I think that’s the biggest thing that helps me. I’m not alone and I’m not in the minority and I’m not abnormal for disliking sessrin.

[orbitariums]

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝟖)

previous part

note: hey y’all it has been a hot minuteee! maybe ab 2 weeks i wanna say? but i’m back wittt a lovely new chapter i hope y’all love it 🤧

i thinkkk i know how to fix the tags now, but if there’s any difficulties i might make a separate post to reassure that everything is just peachy. anyway i hope y’all love this chapter and i hope everyone gets tagged properly!!! adding tags in reblogs :)

playlist

warnings: smut, the cursed d word (daddy!)

word count: 9.7k

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭: 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

      All while Steve was spilling out his heart to you, for some reason you weren't expecting that to be the result of what he was saying. He was talking so much, making you a little nervous, and you weren't paying much attention to what he was really getting down to saying because of your nerves. But you realized it was so painstakingly obvious what he was getting down to, and because of that realization you couldn't help but let out a huff of a girlish, dumbfounded titter. You weren't able to wipe the smile off of your face after that, questioning silently if this was really happening.

     Just like Steve, you knew the potential your friendship had to be something more, but you had never expected anything to actually come of it. You figured you would both stay floating in the awareness, only ever drawing attention to it through flirty remarks and cute selfies. As much as you had been through with Steve, you felt that he had made it clear that he was taking everything very slow and still being careful when it came to you.

     You had felt that he was loosening up with you and becoming more comfortable, but you definitely didn't think that this was even on his mind. He was good at hiding his feelings, this came as a bit of a shock to you, even though the attraction you had for each other made sense and wasn't nonexistent.

     And you definitely weren't thinking of it nearly as much as Steve was, because you weren't expecting anything from him. You were staying grounded and realistic when it came to this outlandish situation. And when it came to your own mindset, you weren't really looking for anything right now. You were just enjoying your life and the feeling of being alone. Not being bothered to look for relationships or being in anything serious felt essential for your growth and understanding of the world.

You were single and yet unavailable, a choice you made for yourself. But when it came to Steve, you were willing to listen. You didn't know how far you would go, but you knew you'd be crazy not to at least listen to him. You were a mixture of shocked, nerve wracked, and anticipatory.

      Now back to earth. Steve was looking at your face, a smile glued to your lips, your eyes widened in surprise and amusement like he'd just popped the question. One side of his lip quirked up into a smile, hope glinting in his sweet blue eyes as he waited for your verbal response. You found it cute, the way he tried to appear as nonchalant as possible, but those ocean eyes gave it all away. And even more was beginning to shock you, the bud of a little crush that had been planted in the pit of your stomach beginning to sprout and grow upwards, because you were realizing you could see him in that way too.

     You were surprised to see that you were finding him cute instead of strong and buff at the moment, that he was pouring his feelings out to you, instead of the other way around. In this moment, he was the vulnerable one. You had been vulnerable for him before, but it wouldn't end up the same way it had.

That was why you finally spoke and said,

     "Steve... I think I like you too."

Steve, although he had been confident in your reaction and confident in himself in this moment, let out a relieved chuckle. He felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, clearing the skies which were so full, erratic with colors that he didn't understand. But as he told you how he felt, he knew that he was making the right decision.

    All his life had been full of confusion, this feeling of dissonance, the knowledge that he didn't truly fit in, and this trickled into his understanding of relationships. He had a certain capacity when it came to connecting with people on a level that was more than platonic. When it came to you, the platonic connection you had was undeniable, you shared a connection that was non-romantic as well as romantic. Why not explore beyond the platonic?

You laughed gently, covering your mouth with your hand, your brows furrowed up, less because you were confused and more because you were so bemused by the whole situation. It was real, but it seemed so far-fetched to assume that something like this could happen to you. It was so casual, a man expressing his feelings for a woman. But he wasn't just any man, and you weren't just any woman- and these feelings weren't for the light at heart.

    "This is... weird," you blurted out, for lack of a better word. You felt a little ditzy, responding this way, but you hadn't been expecting this, it came so suddenly that you hadn't even processed all your emotions yet. For now, you could only afford to be shocked and excited. You weren't fully thinking it out, but that didn't seem like it would be a problem. Once again, Steve had caught you off guard, but this time in the best of ways. "Did you draft this out? I feel like you practiced this."

Steve practically blushed, and it felt good to know you had that effect on him. He peeked through squinted eyes while he replied, like he was shy to reveal the answer,

    "A little bit."

    "Oh my god," you laughed, shaking your head.

For some reason, the natural light in your apartment seemed so much brighter now, filling you up and awakening your senses. You felt full with it, light and a feeling of certainty, that as strange as things were, this was how it was supposed to be. Sometimes you felt like the universe was laughing at you. Now you felt like the universe was laughing with you.

You couldn't shake the feeling that you weren't expecting this and that you didn't think anything legitimate would come of this. It all circled back to the fact that you were set just being by yourself, with no lover and no one to expect anything of, no one who would expect anything from you either. So to hear Steve saying something like this, while it was exciting, was also something you weren't prepared for. You enjoyed being alone in your post healing space, and you weren't sure how much you'd be able to handle from here on out. You didn't know how ready you were.

But you were staying calm, not letting that bog you down. The confession itself felt monumental. Your excitement and giddiness washed out the slightly halting feeling of omniscience regarding yourself, your relationship habits and where you were in your life.

    "Uhm," you chuckled, breathing a puff of air out from your nose. You subconsciously played with your hair as a way to cope with your nerves. "Honestly, I wasn't expecting this at all, I really don't even know what to say." You face palmed, chuckling at yourself. "I'm sorry, I'm usually less... this."

By this, you meant scrambled up and unable to communicate efficiently. You felt like you should have more words than what you were giving, but Steve had truly caught you off guard. You were trying not to get too giddy, trying to retain some sense of logic like you always did. This was one of those rare blissful moments where you forgot yourself in the presence of another.

    "Think you've said all you needed to say. It would've been a bit awkward if you had said anything else."

Your mind flashed back to the dreaded session with Steve where he'd left so abruptly, and you barked out a laugh.  

     "You're telling me." As you settled more into the realization - not that it was a situation you could get used to very quickly (you had just gotten accustomed to Steve's Avenger status, and now this) - you realized there was something you wanted to know. "So... what prompted you to tell me this?"

You noticed the way Steve started blushing when you asked him the question. You were simply curious, and now that some of your awareness was returning, it was something you felt might help you understand the situation more. You wanted to make sure you were interpreting everything correctly, that you weren't misunderstanding his intentions. You felt secure enough with Steve, but it was in your nature to want to know everything, to grasp around for a true understanding. You wanted to know what you were dealing with, especially because it was something you weren't even expecting.

Steve took in a deep breath in order to absorb everything that he wanted to say.

     "I think I knew for a while that there was this potential for more. I knew there was something there, that I was having those thoughts. But I never really fully gave in to those thoughts. I was just sort of letting them float there, you know. Because I didn't think it was serious, because it wasn't hurting me. But I think I sort of realized that it doesn't necessarily have to hurt in order to be something that should be addressed. I realized that the way I feel for you wasn't just something I should keep to myself, that I needed to tell you. I was thinking about you so much every day, and I... liked it. It didn't scare me."

     Your chest began to feel warm and full as Steve explained himself, and you couldn't help the heat that rushed to your cheeks. To hear him actually confessing his feelings to you, telling you why he had to tell you, was something so unexpected, something that made you feel so full. It had been a while since you'd been romantically involved with anyone, and that was specifically because of the toxic relationships you had been in before. You didn't involve yourself with just any person, not when it came to serious feelings. 

     It was why with Steve you weren't head over heels, among plenty of other reasons that you had already addressed. And while you didn't necessarily give in to the same feelings that Steve gave into, it didn't mean that you were going to push him away. You had been so focused on yourself. But in this moment? You could see yourself with Steve Rogers.

The corner of your lip twitched upward in a jolly smile,

      "Steve, I can't tell you what it means to hear this from you. I mean, it's definitely something I wasn't expecting, and I can say I was thinking about the way I feel for you too. I wasn't giving in either, because I'm just not in that mindset right now, and I thought it would be better to keep my head, and not to expect anything. But I have feelings for you, too. And I'd love to explore what that means with you," you admitted, a small smile on your face as you spoke your truth.

     Steve nodded. All this time he'd been talking to you, it was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Not that his feelings were weighing him down in a bad way, but he had to fulfill this urge to tell you, especially after what he'd done. And he felt that what he had done was necessary to confess, no matter how embarrassing it might feel to admit. He didn't want you to be in the dark about the things he had done to himself as a result of you.

Even with all you'd been through, all the explicit things you had shared with each other, he felt embarrassed to say this aloud. He felt like any way he tried to construe it would sound weird, so in his head he was telling himself to just say it outright, but his mouth was far quicker than his brain. He stuttered as he tried and failed to explain himself,

     "Well, there- there was something specific that happened. It- well, it was a weirddd, it was a moment of... I-I can't really pinpoint-"

You raised your brows playfully, very amused by his stuttering speech, and you nodded as if he were making sense.

      "Yes, I understand," you teased him, and he laughed, shaking his head.

      "Sorry," he apologized quickly. "It's just, this feels so odd of me to say. But you sent a picture of yourself on Snapchat, I don't even think you were thinking of it, honestly. But it made me think. I um..."

You smirked as you realized the point that he was getting to. He didn't even have to say it explicitly. With all your experience as a cam girl, you knew what he was implying. Your voice became saccharine sweet, and your head assumed a teasing tilt as you cooed at him,

     "Stevie, did you get off to my picture?"

     Judging by the way he went red yet again and nodded with an embarrassed smile on his face, you were right. You couldn't help but laugh, not to spite him, but because it was almost surprising to you. You saw Steve as pretty disciplined, and he had made a point of establishing that he wanted to communicate with you as simply friends. That was why he didn't add you on your more explicit private snapchat nor did he watch your cam shows for the past few weeks. You found it surprisingly cute that a simple selfie could send him over the edge - then again, it made sense that this would be something that he'd want to tell you, and that it would relate to admitting his feelings for you.

     Your sugary sweet, teasing voice brought him back to his days of watching you on your cam shows, how you would coo at him and help him get off. The reminder only made him more bashful. You couldn't help but go on, smiling in satisfaction. You couldn't lie - it made you feel a bit cocky that you could get him to that point. Sure, men did a lot of things because of you, but those were men online who you didn't care for as much as you cared for Stevie. You figured he was embarrassed because he thought it was creepy, but you honestly didn't mind. Men had done worse. And besides, it was Steve after all. You had a history.

     "Steve! That's so romantic!" you chirped, watching as he seemed to sink shyly into his seat. It was like you were there with him, the way you could feel his awkward energy through your screen. "Which one was it?"

     "The one you sent on the way to the beach," Steve murmured, peeking out from the hand he had over his eyes.

You hummed,

     "Hmm, I don't remember that. Honestly, though, Steve, I think that's really cute. And really hot. Don't be embarrassed."

Steve chuckled, shrugging,

     "I dunno, I wasn't expecting it. It was what made me feel like I should tell you, because I wasn't just thinking about your picture. I was thinking about you. You know? It was more like... it wasn't just sexual. And I realized afterwards that it brought me to that point because I was so frustrated because I wasn't letting myself give in to the feelings I had for you. And... it was a really nice picture."

You giggled, but past your amusement, you were glad he was telling you these things, no matter how much it might have embarrassed him.

     "Steve..." was all you could say, a smile lingering on your face. "You're real sweet."

He scratched the nape of his neck and looked down. For everything you'd been through, you still made him nervous, in the best way possible. And now that the mutual feelings were out there, he could relish each moment just the way it was meant to be.

     "I'm glad you feel the same way. It's weird, I was trying to figure out if I was just too excited because this is so new to me. But now I know it's not."

     "Same," you nodded. "I mean, I haven't really been attached to one person in a really long time. I was off that. But if there's going to be one person, I want it to be you."

Steve swallowed hard. There was no doubt these feelings were real. And hearing this from you just confirmed that.

     "Me too. Just you."

You smiled for a moment, but you couldn't help your true demeanor, the part of you that needed logic and assortment. This was lovely, but you felt like there just had to be more. Although you thought, how much more could there be? You were miles away, in such different situations in your lives. You didn't want to just go on the same way you had been, not after he told you this. There had to be something more after this, even if neither of you knew what it would be. So you asked,

     "So... what next?"

Steve couldn't say he didn't expect this question from you. He knew you'd want to know where you'd go from this point. And he didn't want to leave you blindsided the way he had when he revealed himself. He wanted to have a plan. He was the grown person in the relationship, he was supposed to have an idea of what was next. But he hadn't fully thought that out yet.

    There was only one thing he thought of that could be solid, but he wasn't sure how that would work. And he wasn't sure if he felt secure enough in himself to let it happen. He had mixed feelings about it. So he didn't bring it up just yet. Despite how stupid he felt shrugging, he did so anyway, and replied,

     "Honestly, I'm not sure. There's not much that we can do, is there?"

You squinted, doubtful of his response. Just like him, you had been thinking of the options, and only one thing seemed solid to you. One thing to do after you realized you both had feelings for each other, to sort of seal the deal, to close the gap. And by the curious look on your face, Steve had no doubts that you were thinking the same thing as him.

     "Isn't there?" you inquired with a suggestive cock of your head.

For all his mixed feelings, Steve felt an overwhelming wave of positivity rush over him when he saw that you were on the same page. You were sharp, there was no doubt about that. He didn't have to question if you were suggesting the same thing he was thinking about. It was bemusing to him, the way that you were quick to clock.

     "You wanna meet me," Steve stated, as if it were a simple fact - and honestly, it was.

     You both had clicked without having to communicate. And neither of you thought it was far fetched. It made sense. It felt pointless to have this confession without there being some way to seal these feelings in in person. That had to be what was up next. You already talked online, texted each other. Doing anything else in order to define these feelings would feel trivial.

     And Steve couldn't deny that lately he had been feeling like he wanted to meet you in person. Before, it was hardly even a thought. But once he realized how he felt for you, it was something that he was fantasizing about just a bit. But it was merely a fantasy of his, not something he was gearing up to actualize.

You nodded slowly, though your heart was pounding at the mere thought of actually breaking the distance. Knowing him, talking to him was so surreal to begin with. You didn't ever expect things to get to this point, or to be talking about meeting him. Not in this circumstance, not at all.

     "If that's something that you are... okay with. I'm not rushing anything."

And it was true, you weren't just making excuses. You weren't rushing anything. You just figured it was the only logical thing to do. After all, you had your own life. It wasn't life or death if you met him, but it just made sense. You'd have to sort things out, as you were sure he'd have to. You weren't aiming too high. You figured this was something that the two of you could possibly achieve in the future, just as a "next step." 

      You also wanted to make sure Steve was serious about this, that you wouldn't just be left hanging by a thread, not after you had had this talk together. Not after you were preparing to commit yourself to someone, something that wasn't even in your mind beforehand.

      And even though Steve had mixed feelings for all the right reasons, he wanted to respect what you wanted. He knew you, and he knew you weren't just dying to meet him, that it wasn't something that would just drive you crazy. You were level headed enough, you had enough going for yourself. Still, if you were on the same page, he wanted to actualize your wishes. And he agreed that it was the logical thing to do - there was just so much that would go into making this actually work. Both you and Steve knew you couldn't just jump into it, but that it had to at least be a possibility.

     So he didn't let this scare him, didn't let these mixed feelings send him overboard like he might have before. He was long past that. He just took everything in calmly, because it was what he owed you. Direction, logic, and peace. Hell, it was what he owed himself.

    He nodded,

    "You're not rushing anything. I understand, it makes sense."

     You nodded, glad you and Steve were on the same page. You didn't intend on letting your guard down completely- just because you were comfortable with Steve didn't mean that you were just going to act head over heels for him and lose all sense of reality. You were still YN, a sensible, strong woman who had boundaries and standards for those who pursued you romantically. Steve was special, but he wasn't an exception. You needed a plan. Needed security.

     And Steve definitely expected that from you, it was why he knew that he needed to have a plan. He sometimes felt like you were too good for him- that he didn't have a clue when it came to these things sometimes, and that he'd do something foolish and lose you. He knew he had to get a clue, and quick. All he cared about was treating you right, especially considering the age difference - you were a grown woman, but he was even older. He had a certain responsibility. It didn't mean he had to be the leader in the relationship, whatever it came to be, because you showed enough leader qualities yourself. But it meant that he couldn't leave things open ended all the time, that he had to show you he was serious.

     When it came to meeting you in person, there were so many things giving Steve mixed feelings. It would be no greater delight than to see you in person. He already enjoyed you so much over the screen. He had no worries that the connection you had over the internet wouldn't translate in real life, as long as he didn't overthink it. It was more a question of time, of his own leadership role in his team.

    Would it get in the way of his job if he was with a woman he had never seen in real life? Would that interfere with his team dynamic in some way? And how could he do so in a way that would keep you safe, from media, from threats, from anything that would get in the way of you and him. There were just so many things that could go wrong, and all for one delicious prize: seeing you face to face without a screen cutting through.

      So, like you, he wasn't jumping into it. But it was on your mind, so he knew he would have to consider it seriously. If this was what the next step would be, he couldn't fuck around too long. He had no intention of stringing you along, of putting this idea out there and then leaving you unsatisfied when he couldn't commit to that next step. So in his mind, there was a distant knowledge that he would have to commit, that this would have to happen at some point. But he didn't want to think about it too much just yet. He wanted to enjoy this moment.

     Your voice interrupted his thoughts,

     "Right. It makes sense. I mean, considering your... life, for lack of a better word, and my life as well, I don't suppose it's something that can just be done. But I'd like to meet you, Steve. Now that I know this, I think it's the only way to be sure that this can be true. To be sure that this is something feasible. And, past all the deep stuff... it sure would be nice to meet Captain America."

      Your smile was so genuine and warm, it almost brought tears to Steve's eyes. He knew he had made no mistake, looking at you. Your glow was so radiant it seemed to touch Steve through the screen, like a friendly sprite fluttering around him, with some iridescent aura. He liked you so much, it made his head swim in a way he just hadn't felt before.

     "Yeah. And I'm sure you've got people lining up to meet the famous Moonrose," Steve smirked playfully, and you laughed, shaking your head.

      "He has a sense of humor. How cute."

Steve wanted to stay on the phone with you for so much longer, talk to you and lose himself in your words and his own thoughts, but he had responsibilities to tend to. He sighed, his hand pressing up against his cheek,

     "Would you kill me if I said I had to go?"

     "Consider yourself a dead man, Steve Rogers," you pouted playfully, and the corner of his lip twitched up in amusement.

     "I wish I could stay longer, I really do. But I'm glad we had this talk, I think we're both on the same page, here."

      You felt calm, secure in this moment. You bit down on your lip and nodded,

     "Yeah, me too. See you, Steve."

     "See you."

✺ ✺ ✺

    Ever since that day, Steve had been in an extraordinarily good mood. Even while he had specifics to think about, as in how exactly he'd make meeting you work, he wasn't bogged down by those thoughts. He knew it would take some time, some mindfulness. He couldn't just bring you here carelessly.

    So, it was a sort of strange buzz that he was in - he was simultaneously giddy and serious, plotting and planning things out, and leaving space in his mind for you. And when he thought of you, just you, any stress threatening to build up just dissipated.

     "You're in a good mood," Bucky commented in passing, taking notice of the small smile that seemed to be constantly engraved on Steve's face these days.

Once again, everyone took notice of Steve's mood - he'd been happy recently, but now it was almost odd. They were beginning to think there was something they were missing. Tony had been the first to really pry and ask if Steve was thinking about a girl. He'd assumed that Steve wanted to talk to someone special when he asked him about the private numbers, and that was entirely true. But Steve didn't let on, not quite yet.

     “Am I?" Steve quipped back, a strange response to Bucky's comment.

    Bucky raised his eyebrow, squinting inquisitively at Steve.

    "Seriously, what's been going on? You hopped up on a little extra serum?"

Steve shook his head slowly with a laugh,

   "Can't a guy just be happy that it's springtime? It's finally nice out. Harsh winter."

    "I've never known you to be a giddy person," Bucky pressed, and Steve just shrugged.

    "Seasons change, people change too," Steve started to walk much faster than Bucky. "Gotta go, Buck. Got some paperwork to take care of."

     Steve practically left Bucky in the dust. He stood there, trying to put the pieces together. He was beginning to think he had an idea of what was going on, but, no. He'd be crazy to think that. It wasn't something Steve would get himself into. But if he was right, then damn it, he wanted to know. Like everyone else, he wouldn't pry too much. But he was beginning to think that they should all be a bit more invested in what was going on. Was he happy his friend was happy? Of course. Was it still a bit strange? Hell yeah.

    And even though he had settled things with you, Steve still had no intentions of putting his business out there. It was his own thing, and for good reason.

✺ ✺ ✺

    Your last day of classes came quicker than you had been expecting. A week flew by so quickly, and even in that week you still hadn't fully processed that day you talked to Steve, the things that he had to say to you. From this point on, you would have so much free time on your hands, maybe you would use it to settle in to your new reality. Just a week ago, Steve Rogers had told you he had feelings for you. He had told you that there was a possibility that you could meet each other. What was your life, honestly?

     If anything, right now it was just a swarm of good. You almost expected something bad to happen to snap you out of this blissed out, full mood that you were in. Everything felt perfect right now. Your brand was swinging into action, you were about to graduate, your cam business was going well as usual. And on top of that, you were in the beginnings of a new relationship. Neither of you were sure what it would actually become, but you hardly even wanted to think about that. You were just enjoying the present, though you knew the future would be so unpredictable and so full of new things.

     To celebrate the end of your classes, and more importantly, the end of senior year, you were having a few friends over at your apartment. One plus of having your own place was that you didn't have to move out of dorms, which was a process most of your friends were going through prior to graduation. And being able to have friends over in a place that you could call your own was so special to you.

       "We're really fucking done!" Aaliyah exclaimed, reaching over the counter to pour herself another drink, then shaking her head and deciding it was best to drink from the bottle.

      "I'll drink to that," Cameron agreed, and clinked her glass to Aaliyah's entire bottle.

       "YN, get off your phone. We gotta celebrate!" Luke nudged you harshly, and you chuckled, rubbing your arm in the spot where he'd impacted you.

     As present as you liked to be when you were with your friends, you couldn't help but be on your phone in this moment. You and Steve texted casually beforehand, but ever since that Facetime call last week, you communicated much more frequently. You anticipated texts and snapchats from him, even the occasional call. Often times you just wanted to hear from each other, wanted to update each other on the smallest of things.

     It wasn't obnoxious or overbearing, it felt just right for the situation that you were in with each other. You wanted to feel closer, or at least the illusion of feeling closer. You were trying to talk to each other the way that people with feelings for each other would. But it didn't feel forced. Your banter came naturally, conversation flowed easily, just as it had before. But now, there was an even brighter spark in each and every text message, every silly Snapchat selfie you sent each other.

    Right now, you were texting Steve about the gathering, sliding in sneaky flirts every now and then, like "wish you were here!" You knew how to get to Steve- even the littlest things did him in.

      "Okay, okay, I'm here! Just, lemme make this call real quick. Really, really quick. Promise," you pleaded with your friends, who were jeering at you playfully as you slinked away quickly.

     You were having fun already, but there was something on your mind, something you hadn't done in a while that you wanted to fulfill. Now that you and Steve had established your feelings for each other, it was only appropriate, right?

You texted Steve, telling him to have his laptop ready, because you wanted to Facetime him.

     You had slinked away to your room, and locked the door behind you, setting up your mirror in front of you and sitting criss cross on the floor. You pulled up Steve's name on your laptop, and Facetimed him. You figured he'd be available to video chat, considering you had just been texting quite voraciously. To your pleasure, he picked up, and you were looking at him on the screen again, a feeling that filled you both up each time. 

      Texting was nice, but actually seeing each other on the screen live felt so much more personal. You felt a surge of pride in you, that you had this ability to just call him up like this, to be able to see him like this. You liked knowing you were the only one that could bring this out of him. And you were about to bring a lot more out of him right now.

     "Hey, how's the party?" Steve asked when he picked up, a grin on his features.

     "Compared to talking to you? Ahh, I can't be that mean to my friends," you joked, and it was really only a joke. But it got the reaction you were hoping for- he blushed and started smiling profusely.

      "You're too sweet," he leaned in. "Why'd you wanna call on my laptop instead of my phone, though?"

      You shrugged, not giving anything away just yet,

       "Just wanna see you better. And I have something for you. It'll be easier to multitask."

Steve nodded,

      "I see you've abandoned your friends."

      "Ding ding ding. Just for a minute though. Or an hour. However long it takes you," you shrugged nonchalantly, as if you were saying anything.

     But Steve felt his senses kicking in. You were alone, obviously because you couldn't just talk to him around your friends, but it was more than that. His stomach dropped from nerves, in the best way possible, but also because this was unexpected.

      "However... long it takes me?" he practically gulped, and watched as you pushed back the laptop and started to pull down the sleeves of your blouse just enough to show the pink bra straps.

       "I missed this, Stevie," you pouted, leaning in very intentionally, so that the curves of your boobs would show from over your blouse.

       Steve's jaw ticked as he watched. He was in his room, and it wasn't as late in New York as it was in California. But his door was locked anyway, and time wasn't an issue when it came to you.

     "We talk a lot," Steve blurted awkwardly in response, immediately feeling stupid.

He didn't mean to be so tongue tied, but it had just been a long time since he had interacted with you like this. Sure, he had his moment with the picture of you, but it wasn't the same as being onscreen with you while you did all the things you did to drive him crazy, right in front of his eyes. He had chosen not to view your cam shows or anything that would get in the way of your budding friendship. Now, you were giving it to him. And he wouldn't have resisted before, because he hardly could - but now, it felt much more appropriate, now that your feelings for each other were out there.

     "I know, but not like this. We talk about my day, your missions. Our feelings. Cute shit like that. But I get so bored, Stevie. No one on my cam site can do it like you."

      "Really?" Steve swallowed, licking his lips slowly and taking in every word you said like it was a mixture of milk and honey.

      "Really. You think anyone can make me scream their name the same way you can? And really mean it? You must know I always meant it, Steve," you drawled slightly, continuing to pull down the sleeves of your blouse and your bra straps along with it, so that now your sleeves were down to your chest.

Steve sighed deeply, as if he were trying to contain himself, breathing through his nose. It had been so long, too long, since the two of you had been intimate like this. It was bringing out this feral nature in him that only you could satisfy. And for you, it was exciting to actually have a person to be intimate with just because. Sure, it wasn't the same as physical touch - which, besides Alex, you hadn't had legitimately in far too long - but it was intimate.

    And this time around, it wasn't just for a customer. It was for someone you could genuinely say you had feelings for. And that felt so fulfilling. It was why you were so quick to give it to Steve, because you were craving that excitement, that full feeling. Being with your friends was lovely, but you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on to escape them for something like this.

     "Do I get to hear you scream my name tonight?" Steve asked, trying to be confident in his responses, but there was a genuine glint of hope in his question.

You laughed, biting down on your lip, and shrugged,

      "If you play your cards right, sure."

      "How do I... play my cards right?" Steve chewed on his bottom lip, anticipatory and a bit anxious.

    "Just do what feels right," you sighed, and took off your blouse completely, the bra falling off in accordance.

Steve's spit caught in his throat at the sight - he'd seen you in every position, but it never got old. Especially since he hadn't seen you like this in so long. He was already palming himself through his sweats, looking hard into the screen of his laptop - he understood now, using a laptop would be much more convenient for this. It was just like his days with you on the site.

      "Can I see?" you asked, a smile growing on your lips as you watched the way his face contorted, the motions his hands made.

He pushed the laptop further down the bed so that you could see all of him, from his growing erection in his black sweats to his reddening face.

    You practically whimpered when you saw it. It was no surprise that you hadn't actually seen him like this, you'd only ever heard his reactions. All those times, you'd been facing a blank screen. You never got to actually see the expressions that he made, never got to see how big he was, never got to see him finish. He'd gotten to see all of that from you, and now it was finally your turn. Regardless of how things were going to go down right now, you wouldn't be able to control yourself.

     Steve watched as you slipped out of your shorts and started to run your fingers along your clit through your underwear, teasing the warm, wet skin that was underneath. His motions matched yours, grazing his cock with his palm through his clothes. He could usually stand teasing himself, but he was harder than he'd ever been, it had been so long. He was still full of so much pent up desire for you.

    He blushed when he realized that you could actually see him too. Sure, you'd heard him before, but that felt different. He hadn't done something like this, ever. Was it risky to show his face as he did something like this? Sure. But did he honestly expect that risk to have consequences? Not anymore. Still, it made him blush because he'd never actually done this before, at least not when you could see him.

    You moaned, choking out your words,

    "You look nervous, Stevie."

    He chuckled, shaking his head,

    "I don't know, I've just... I know we've done this countless times, but you've never been able to see me. Guess I'm feeling a little rusty."

     "You?  Rusty? Never. I think you forget who you are, Steve," you reminded him, and he smirked- of course you would gas him up a bit, how could he forget how cocky you could make him feel sometimes?

    "Force of habit," he shrugged, and you took your bottom lip under your teeth.

    "Steve?" you asked between pleasured sighs.

    "Yeah?"

     "I really wanna see you. Can you do that for me?" you cooed, putting on your best puppy dog eyes - you wanted to see him for real, not just through the outline of his sweats. You knew he was big, you had known that even before he revealed who he was. But now it was like some sudden kink, to want to see just how big your superhero was.

    He knew exactly what you meant, and the pleading in your voice only made him want to show you even more. He was almost eager as he pulled his sweats down, his cock already springing upwards in his boxers, forming a tent. He watched as your two fingers spun slow circles around your clit once you pushed your panties to the side. Seeing your bare flesh again made him grunt, made his cock twitch in his boxers.

    "Please, Stevie," you groaned, wanting to see all of him.

    "I got you, doll, don't worry," he replied — it was cute to see you get all worked up, but he wouldn't hold out on you for too long. He respected the fact that you were even doing this right now — for that, he decided you got whatever you wanted.

You kept whining until he finally pulled down his boxers and his cock sprung loose. It was hard and heavy, it nearly made you drool just to look at it. You knew he was big, but he was big. Bigger than anyone you'd seen or even had. Just the sight of it, veiny, standing in the air, and throbbing for you made you moan uncontrollably. You were unbelievably wet already, and couldn't help but sink two fingers inside of you - they slid in too easily.

     Your fingers felt the warm and gushy flesh inside of you and you sucked in a breath, just watching his cock on the screen. It was something so deliciously overdue, so much overdue that it felt like a sweet release just to see it. You rolled your head back, and Steve gripped the base of his cock, watching your fingers dip in and out of you while you pleasured yourself.

    "Mmh," you mewled, biting your lip. You looked back on the screen, a needy pout plastered all over your glossy lips, a desperate crease in your brows as you focused in on his cock. You groaned gutturally, just looking at him, imagining what it would be like to take him inside of you, inside any part of you. Your voice was whiny, desperate with amazement. "You're so big."

       Steve's chest pounded at the sound of your voice - so needy and raw, like the sight of him was too much for you. He watched the way your fingers rubbed vigorously at your clit, which was wet and slick with your juices. His hand worked tirelessly at himself, jerking up and down his shaft, his fingers toying with the head, glowing with his precum.

    "You like my cock?" he asked in response, just so he could hear the edge in your voice.  

You sighed in pleasure, scooching your hips forward so Steve could see you better,

    "Yes, baby, I want you so bad."

    "You want it?" Steve gave in to his desire to tease you back, which really became stronger when he saw how needy you were for him. You watched his face, which was a mix of derisive and focused, focused on getting you both to orgasm, his brows furrowed in pleasure, mouth partially open at all times. The groan that came out of Steve was deep and animalistic, reflective of how much he needed this with you after not having it for so long. "Does it turn you on? Begging for my cock?"

       You whimpered - the more dominant side of Steve was coming out, and you hardly had to coax him into it. He was assuming such a daddy role, you couldn't help it when the pet name slipped out of your mouth,

     "God, yes, daddy."

Steve's eyes were blown with lust, his eyelids heavy, but they widened just a bit when he heard what you called him. You hadn't even thought much about it, but Steve was hanging onto it desperately.

       "Daddy? Is that what I am?" he repeated with a low chuckle, slowing his strokes so he could focus on your response.

You wriggled around and mewled out in response, scrunching your eyes shut as you tried to avoid having to answer him.

      "I'm not hearing an answer, doll," Steve pressed, and you clenched around your fingers, an orgasm sure to arrive shortly - his tone was so authoritative and cocky - you shouldn't have let that slip, but then again, you loved it.

      "Fuck!" you shouted, thrusting your fingers deeper inside of you, your knuckles hitting your clit. "Yes, daddy, that's what you are."

    "Hmm, yeah, that's it," Steve breathed out of his nose, relaxing back into his pillow and letting the careless motions of his hand take over. He was so far gone, any tension from the day so far removed that his head felt clear, and a wave of pleasure rushed over him. So much so that he wasn't even really thinking when he next spoke, his eyes shut and his hands closed around his throbbing cock. "Mm, I can't wait to fuck you."

     A sound you didn't expect came out of you then, and you clenched hard around your fingers as you came, gasping for air and rocking your hips against your fingers deliriously, sweat just starting to drip down your forehead. Steve's orgasm came soon after that, like it was chasing after yours. You both took your time to recover, reveling in the moment. It felt like a sense of peace had flooded your room, and it felt the same for Steve. You both knew it had been too long since you got each other off. And everytime it happened, it was explosive. Just now, it had been on a whim, as a result of your own spontaneity - and you were a bit horny as well. Man, were you glad for those last minute decisions of yours.

     You wiped sweat off your forehead, still breathing hard, and pulled up your underwear - which was no help, you were still soaking through them. But you got dressed accordingly and so did Steve, and you stayed on the call until one of you spoke.

    "Your friends are looking for you, I bet," Steve commented, and you smirked, shrugging.

     "Don't worry, they'll be fine," you grinned, licking your lips.

Steve's eyes were still bleared over, but he was looking right at you,

      "Think they heard us?"

Even after all that, your pussy throbbed at his words, at the thought. If only Steve could see.

    "Dunno."

    "I get the feeling you don't care," Steve grinned, eyes sparkling - he too was glad for your spontaneity.

As you sat recovering, rocking gently back and forth with your knees pulled up to your chest, a small smile appeared on your lips as you recalled the words that had triggered you to come. It was mindless to Steve, a subconscious thought of his that had slipped out of his lips in that moment of pure bliss, as casual and thoughtless as asking "how was your day?"

     "You said you can't wait to fuck me," you hummed, tilting your head to the side, a devious but satisfied smile on your lips.

    You liked, no loved, the way it sounded coming from his lips this time around. Before, you had always shared your fantasies aloud, telling the other that you wished you could be there. But that was before - before you even knew him, before you knew each other the way that you knew each other now. There was no depth to the words. But now, it felt like a prompt to put things into motion, like Steve knew that his wish would become a reality, like he really was serious about meeting you. He didn't just wish he could fuck you, he couldn't wait to. That, to you, sounded like there was already a plan set where something like that could be possible. Like Steve had been thinking about it, a thought that dually excited you and made you wet.

     Steve blushed at the reminder - he had hardly recognized that he had let that slip. Again, it was more of a subconscious thought of his, one that hadn't yet come to the surface. Although he had plans to meet you, knew that it had to happen at some point, he hadn't yet thought of the specifics. It just sort of came out of him, something that he didn't realize he'd been thinking about - that he'd one day have the chance to meet you, that he really could fuck you when the time came. He supposed that the excitement of the moment got him thinking that this prominent physical, sexual gap could be closed once you met. It wasn't the only reason he wanted to meet you, but in the moment, it was what was most on his mind. And the only difference in what he said this time around was that it insinuated driving fantasies into reality.

    "I did, huh?" Steve questioned, smirking slightly.

    He knew what you were getting to, and it got you both excited and nervous all at once. You both knew it was going to happen, but once he said that, it felt like things were becoming much realer.

     "Mhm. That true?" you batted your lashes playfully, making him laugh - he missed this feeling, the friendly interactions after getting each other off, how humorous and organic it felt.

    "Yeah, it's true," Steve nodded, settling into the reality himself. He knew what had to be done, and he knew it had to be set in motion quickly. "Guess we better meet sooner than later, huh?"

     "Just so you can fuck me," you said decidedly, making the both of you laugh.

    "It's not as wholesome as I was expecting," Steve cleared his throat. "But really, you and I both know it's not just because of that. And it very well could be, but we both have so much to offer."

     "Mhm, but you really wanna fuck me," you continued, and Steve knew he had to let you bask in this moment, had to let you shine in all your glory.

He laughed at how big headed you were acting, shaking his head,

      "There's that, too."

     "Hey, really though, if it takes time, I understand," you nodded, making it clear once again that you weren't rushing anything.

    "It takes time, but I can make time," Steve replied quickly.

    He wanted you to feel secure, didn't want you to feel like you had to backtrack from what you both wanted. It would take a lot of work from him to make things work out, would take a lot of self reflection, but he knew that for you, he could handle it. Neither of you were rushing things, but you both realized that you couldn't hold off for too long, that you needed each other soon- physically and emotionally. There was only so much you could do through a screen. The more you talked about it, the more the days passed by, the stronger the urge became. You'd both commit to not allowing it to drive you up the wall - but you could only resist so much. You had to see each other, soon.

    You smiled, impressed by Steve's words. He would make time. That was all you ever really wanted to hear.

    "Yeah?"

    "Yeah. It's a lot, but it can be done. We'll have to be careful, because there's so much... stuff that goes into this. And I have to get myself together first, when it comes to my team and how this will all go down in a way that won't impact my work, or your work, for that thought. But I care about you. And... and I know that this is the next step, and we don't have to rush it, but it's better to see you sooner than later," Steve explained, the gears already churning in his mind- lots of work to be done.

     He didn't want to keep you a secret, but he didn't want to mess up the consistency in his relationships with his team and his relationship with his work. That was one thing that he'd have to figure out. And besides, he liked having you all to himself. When the time was right to be open about it, he'd know. That was just one of the elements he'd have to think of when it came to getting you to him.

     "I care about you too," you pouted slightly, and then smiled again. "And I really do want to see you. When it's right, it's right. You know?"

     "Yeah," Steve took his bottom lip under his teeth. "So... when is it right for you?"

You raised your brows - was he asking for your schedule? Was this really going to happen? You knew that was the focus of your conversation, but actually progressing was something so jarring to think of.

     "For me?" you repeated, gawking slightly at the camera.

     "Yeah, like... I don't know. When's a good time for you?" he asked, as if he were scheduling a simple lunch date.

      Your head started to swarm with thoughts, mainly thoughts surrounding your own availability. Once you graduated, you'd have all the time in the world. Sure, you'd have to start working and continue handling your clothing brand, but you would have plenty of free time on your hands. You wanted to settle into the real world without education first, but you figured that you'd be ready for this adventure soon after graduation.

    "Ah, well... I'm- I'm graduating... this week. And, um, after that I'm pretty much free. I'll need like a week or two to decompress, but after that, I guess-"

      "You can see me," Steve completed your sentence for you, because you were having a hard time spitting the words out of your mouth.

     For all your logic and need for stability, you were floored by the idea of actually planning something like this out. For the umpteenth time that week you were asking yourself: "what is my life?" And for Steve, it was jarring too. It was odd for him to think that he would ever be going through with something like this, something that he had resisted so adamantly beforehand. He couldn't say that he couldn't picture himself in this position with you beforehand, because a small part of him could. 

      It seemed so unfeasible and far fetched to him back then, but it was part of the reason why he pushed back. Now, here he was, in this unbelievable position. But it didn't deter him, it just served as a reminder of how much he had grown since he met you, the same way you had grown.

    "Yeah," you chuckled out nervously, a beam breaking out on your face. You huffed, as if you couldn't believe it, but you were so glad it was true. "Yeah... then I can meet you."

A beat of silence passed as you both just looked at each other over the screen, settling into this moment together. It was like there was a bubble that enclosed just you and him. A circumstance so exclusive that it was as if only the two of you could understand it. And the way you were looking at each other now, you couldn't wait to look into each other's eyes for real.

    "Well," Steve chuckled, raising his brows. "I guess I'll have to make arrangements."

    "Yeah, me too," you refrained from snorting out of excitement, and just sat back.

    "You should get back to your friends, before they start suspecting anything."

    "I assure you, they are not worried about me," a loud garble of laughter sounded through your walls, loud enough for Steve to hear. "See?"

     You both laughed, but you took in a breath, nodding,

     "Ah, you're right though. I should go."

    "Got it. Hey, I'll see you. Soon," said Steve, but the farewell felt so much deeper now.

You winked, leaning forward to hang up,

     "See you, Steve."

You hung up, still giddy and buzzing with exhilaration. You still didn't know what to expect, but you kind of knew when to expect it. And it was coming soon. You had to resist from counting down the days. As Steve suggested, you returned to your friends. You had no trouble focusing on them and your celebration for the rest of the night. But the warmth you felt in your cheeks, the wetness between your thighs, and the smile etched on your face all reminded you of what was to come.

[asgardian--angels]

SO I WATCHED THE SUPERNATURAL EPISODE

...And I just think it’s worth saying that the confession scene is not nearly as ridiculous in context. Which, I think most people who saw the episode would agree with me on this. 

Dean’s reaction is fairly par for the course, both for his character in general and also in the specific situation they were in - they were running from Death herself, barricading the door and waiting for their inevitable demise, reeling from a series of devastating truths learned in a matter of minutes and Dean shutting down and blaming himself for the world coming to an end. Clenching his jaw and taking it is how Dean copes, and right after the scene, Dean is crouched on the floor, head in his hands crying and shaken. Trust me when I say that while it may seem like it to the casual viewer just watching that one scene, Dean is absolutely not emotionless here, and he’s not brushing Cas off. He’s literally on the brink of numbness and subsequent breakdown. 

I’ll admit I had to stop myself from getting emotional during it, and honestly if this hadn’t blown up on Tumblr before I got to watch the episode I probably would have cried, and overall just seen the whole thing in a different light. Frankly the internet hype ruined the scene because it really wasn’t that bad at all! Do we want Cas to die? No. Should they have used the bury your gays trope? Fucking no, but to their credit, they did set this up to happen a long time ago when Cas made this deal and we knew it had to be paid soon. At least the moment of happiness was with Dean and for Dean. There is closure there. We’d be bitching if they killed him off without any final speech to Dean, I know that for sure. And this final act is something that we can only hope is the catalyst for true change for Dean. I’d like to hold onto hope that we’re not done with the Empty and might see Cas again (since it took Death too, and they’ve not grappled with the consequences of a universe without Death). 

To be entirely frank, the writers put themselves in a corner when setting this up, because Cas had to be taken by the Empty before the end. They had to find him a moment of true happiness. At least they took that opportunity to acknowledge Destiel, and more than that, use it to tell Dean what he needs to hear in the eleventh hour, from the person that matters the most. Look, Destiel should have happened years ago - season 8 to be precise - and they dropped the ball. They strayed from what was a promising path for a diversion that lasted several seasons. It could and should have been done better. But we’d pretty much accepted at this point it wouldn’t be done at all, and that Cas would just be killed off. I for one am happy that we got this over nothing. If anything, what’s funny is that I know my parents, who are oblivious to Destiel, will more likely than not watch that scene and STILL not understand it was romantic. It will never be blatant enough for some (heck, I wouldn’t be surprised if some cast/crew deny it’s romantic ffs). 

What I’m trying to say is, yeah I’ll reblog all the memes cause it’s funny as shit. But for people who do actually watch the show and care even a little bit, this was still a worthwhile and important scene and I’m sure it really means something to a lot of fans. Don’t knock it blindly. It could have been done better, could have been done ages ago when the subtext was stronger and fresher in the mind. But at least in my opinion it’s better than nothing at all, and in context the scene works a lot better. Just my two cents.

[msjr0119]

A Proposal

Prologue

The new Crown Prince Liam, is unsure about what his future holds for him. All he knows is that he wants to marry for love and not for a political reason. Riley Brooks an American, a mutual friend becomes the Royal Family’s new Personal Assistant. Maybe his future may hold a few unexpected surprises?

A/N: So this has been in my drafts for months and months. Since January. That seems like a lifetime ago! I’m wanting to post all of my drafts and do my reblogs before going on another hiatus- I’m determined to do this 🤣 all my work and other people’s reblogs are now in the ‘queue’, so I don’t know when they will be posted... I haven’t done a moodboard for this series as of yet, so a gif will do for now 😜

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Liam x Riley, Maxwell x Riley

All characters belong to Pixelberry unless stated otherwise.

Warnings: None that I can think of apart from Constantine being slightly harsh. Call me out if you see any that need mentioning 👍🏼

Tags (as always for an introduction I’ll tag my combined tag list- if you don’t respond asking to be tagged in further chapters I won’t 😊)

@pedudley @kacie-0156 @loveellamae @annekebbphotography @kingliam2019 @burnsoslow @kimmiedoo5 @lodberg @walker7519 @drakewalkerisreal @axwalker @bascmve01 @ladyangel70 @texaskitten30 @yukinagato2012 @indiacater @queenjilian @drakewalker04 @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @rainbowsinthestorm @desireepow-1986 @jared2612 @twinkle-320 @princessleac1 @cordonianroyalty @custaroonie @princess-geek @bebepac @nikkis1983 @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @seriouslybadchoices @furiousherringoperatortoad @shanzay44 @choices97 @gardeningourmet

****

Liam Rys still couldn’t get over the fact that he was now not the spare heir but in fact the heir- the now Crown Prince of Cordonia. Every morning he would wake up, hoping for it to be just his imagination- not reality. Before his mother passed away when he was only a young boy, she had promised him that he could marry for love- now that just seemed like one big lie. The King had arranged an unexpected meeting with his son, Liam had just assumed that it would be regarding his new duties as the Crown Prince. Unlike his older brother, Leo- Liam had always taken his royal duties seriously.

“Liam, my son. It’s good to see you. I’d like to introduce you to some people who will be very close to you prior to your social season.” As much as Liam attempted time use his stoic expression, he could have sworn that his eyes rolled back and that it would be noticed.

“And finally this is Miss Brooks, she will be on hand for anything that you need.”

“Nice to meet your acquaintance.... Miss... erm....” Feeling hypnotised by the strangers presence, he could easily recall her name- but had hoped that she would give away her first name. Or maybe a hint at the least.

“Miss Brooks, your highness.” Riley reiterated after curtsying infront of the monarch as well as the future monarch.

“Miss Brooks is from New York City originally, I’m sure she will be an asset to us all even though she is below our standard.” Constantine explained with no empathy for his harsh words. Riley grit her teeth, faking a smile not really wanting to show her true expression.

“I look forward to working with you, my lady.” Gently rubbing her knuckles with his thumb, he tentatively guided her hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss onto her soft skin. Unlike the other introductions, Liam was unsure as to what had come over him with this unexpected gesture. Deep down, Riley was horrified with his impromptu action- however continued to smile, like a professional.

****

Later on in the day, the future king was in a daze. Liam poured himself a scotch in his quarters, ever since his unexpected introduction with her- for some reason he couldn’t stop thinking about everything regarding the mystery lady. Inviting Drake and Maxwell over, he needed a distraction. A big one at that.

“Li? Are you okay?” Drake asked the moment he set foot into the room. Usually Liam wouldn’t send out an SOS, he would just get on with things. As a future king would do.

“Yes, I’m sorry for disturbing you both. The whole situation regarding Leo’s abdication- it’s just not fully sunk in yet. I don’t know if I will cope with the social season- I don’t want that.” Pausing, Drake chewed on the inside of his cheek- not really knowing how to respond. All of their life they had assumed that all the responsibility would revolve around Leo. The eldest prince. The rightful future monarch. “I met someone today……” Liam continued, both of his friends gazes focused onto him- both noticing the sudden sparkle surrounding his baby blues.

“A little birdie told me that you met Riley today…” Maxwell interrupted, whilst scoffing his face with a box of an unknown delicacy to the two men stood near him.

“Who?”

“Riley Brooks. Liam’s new ‘personal assistant’. She’s awesome. A bit boring when she’s at work, but she’s very motivated- she delivers her work to the highest standard. You’ll be fine with her by your side, you can trust her with anything.”

“And how do you know her, Beaumont?”

“She worked for us, but then we got into a bit of money trouble. Don’t ask. Bertrand will kill me if you both knew. Anyway…. I promised that I’d find her a new job as we had to let all of our staff go. I had to grovel with the King to give her a chance. That wasn’t a pretty sight, I’m surprised that I’m still walking to be honest- he looked as if he was going to kill me. Once your social season ends she will probably go back to New York. I will miss her.”

“Maxwell, tell me everything about her. I’d like to know.”

“Erm… what exactly do you want to know, Liam?”

****

The morning after, Liam woke up earlier than usual. All night he had been thinking about what Maxwell had told him, and had asked his most loyal friend Drake to help him out with a few things.

“Come in.”

“Your highness, you wanted to see me?”

“Yes I did, Lady Riley. Take a seat.” Sitting down on the leather chair as instructed, she felt slightly uncomfortable- her heart was pounding uncontrollably. “Would you like a coffee? Or some juice?”

“No, thank you- your highness.”

“The reason that I brought you here....I just wanted to ask a few questions - if that’s okay with you?” Nodding, she wasn’t sure if it was actually ‘okay’. All thoughts- negative thoughts began to wander throughout her mind. Making her more nervous now than ever. Was this another interview, an on the spot one to make sure that she was the correct candidate for the job? Deep down she had already been doubting her ability - but would push herself to complete any task thrown at her. She knew it wasn’t going to be a ‘walk in the park’ like previous jobs she had obtained in the past.

“Did you enjoy working at Ramsford?”

“Yes your highness, why do you ask?”

“Why did you enjoy it?” What’s with the possible hundred questions about Ramsford? I know Maxwell and Bertrand know of the King and the Prince’s. Or are they actually closer to the royal family? Oh god, what have they told the royals about me?

“They were very accommodating, they rewarded us for our hard work. They became more like friends, or family rather than employers.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Do you enjoy it here in Cordonia?”

“Your country is very beautiful, and also different to what I grew up in. I instantly fell in love with it.”

“Are you feeling homesick at all? I’m just asking - if you need time off there’s no need to worry about it. We can be accommodating too.”

“No, I’m not homesick. Don’t worry about it. New York hasn’t been my home for a few years now. The only thing that I really missed is the food, but Max.....I mean....Lord Maxwell stumbled across a bakery and restaurant that provide American style food. So we....I mean... I’d often go there on my days off.” With her stuttering, Liam assumed that she had been or was still very much close to Maxwell. Something that the Lord had failed to explain, or elaborate on during their previous chat.

“Very well, Lady Riley. You may go now if you please.” Riley slowly stood up and curtsied yet again. Thankful that the short interrogation was over, she had planned to not overthink it. Instead, she knew her job role- her responsibilities, and she intended on completing them to her best ability. Walking towards the door, she turned around and gave Liam another quick curtsy along with a soft smile.

“Oh, Riley- you don’t have to curtsy at every opportunity. Not infront of myself anyway. As well as that, you don’t have to use titles. ‘Just Liam’ is fine.” ‘Just Liam’, got it. For now anyway. Riley thought to herself as she left the Prince alone- knowing that he would never be ‘Liam’ to her.

****

Walking back into her room, she believed at first that she had accidentally stumbled into the wrong one. In all fairness, all of the corridors and guest rooms had similar features. As far as she was aware, she had left it tidy- now it was surrounded in what she would refer to as ‘souvenir trash’.

I hope that you will enjoy the few presents that I got for you. If you ever want to visit anywhere, I’d gladly accompany you there. We could get to know each other better? I will see you in the morning. If you turn over the page- I have written a proposal for you.

Your highness. (Just Liam)

[aeide-thea]

This is a gentle request for any Geraskier fics you want to rec, because the number of them in the tag is a bit overwhelming but I KNOW there are gems in there 👀

i’m pretty sure i’ve reblogged things in the past! but it’s true that i haven’t done that in any systematic way, so—let’s see. under the cut are 20-ish recs alphabetized by author, which seemed like a good way of avoiding having to make any hierarchical declarations:

o, empathy by almostnectarine/@nectarine-pit: bodyswap! i forgot how much i loved this fic. geralt and jaskier walk a mile in each other’s shoes, and learn to appreciate each other better; this is keenly observed and thought-through, and frequently extremely funny. a thoroughgoing delight.

Jaskier pulled a face and swiveled the straps such that both swords almost fell from their scabbards at once, ruining the moment. “Geralt,” he said, “this leather itches. You’ve lived five lifetimes—” “Not that old,” said Geralt, in protest, and then, considering: “Maybe three.” “—and you never once thought, hm— oh, I see why you do that all the time, it is quite fun, isn’t it— hm, maybe I’ll add a little padding?!” His mimicry of Geralt’s tone was very good, although perhaps it was cheating, when the voice was already the same.

public displays of affection by autoschediastic/@bluesoaring: geralt and jaskier go to a sex party! (not to be confused with the other fic by sospes in which geralt and jaskier go to a sex party, which is also excellent.) if that wasn’t enough of a sell, well, you confuse me, but—the flavor of the power dynamic here is a little complex and unusual in a way i enjoyed, plus frankly the description of geralt stripped down for this party is really, uh. really A Lot. i admit to being biased in favor of sex party stories in general but this one is definitely a keeper.

to you always, also by autoschediastic/@bluesoaring: in which geralt is a demanding, insatiable bottom. ...honestly, this fic has significantly more emotional weight to it than that description might suggest, but i still stand by it. also the initial setup is just really funny to me, because jaskier getting hilariously outraged by geralt’s sheer infuriating geralt-ness is, like, my fave flavor of jaskier. (that’s a lie, every flavor of jaskier is my favorite flavor of jaskier, but i do really delight in this one.)

@blossomsinthemist’s mixing memory and desire series (wip) is basically my favorite thing ever, like, just truly perfectly crafted to please me personally. it’s h/c, and just astonishingly luxuriant and languorous and lovely—or, okay, let me actually just quote a comment i left on an early chapter:

this is just so exquisitely tender and molasses-lovely-sweet so far, my god the glimpses we get dimly through geralt’s hazy bemused perception of what jaskier’s feeling are so heart-clenchingly poignant—and then of course the glimpses of what geralt himself is feeling for jaskier without understanding it, this stunned rapt gratitude for everything jaskier is doing but also everything jaskier is, the lovely gentle sturdy solicitous gift he is & keeps making of himself to geralt, who would probably call it undeserved except that of course we can see precisely what in geralt has tugged this tenderness from jaskier, this terrible aching wounded gallantry that’s so astonished to meet with respite…

the meet death sitting (wip) series by @bomberqueen17 is my other favorite thing—much plottier than the previous, with a much wider cast of characters, and while i’m ultimately in it for the geralt/jaskier and therefore being strung along in exquisite agony while all sorts of plot things get in the way of any real resolution of that, it’s honestly worth it; what you lose in immediate gratification you gain in, like, a sense that this story inhabits a real, full world, with real events that aren’t just arranged to suit our heroes’ convenience. if i could only get you to read two things it would be this series and the previous one: between them they have my heart. anyway i guess i may as well quote myself again:

it’s the rich realistic interweaving of things that’s so remarkable here, how the absolute throat-thickening aches run abruptly up against the entirely mundane and all of it has to be coped with, because that’s life, and this story has life within it, in a realer way than probably anything else in the fandom, maybe anything else i’ve read in a long time. and of course a large part of me is so, so desperate for geralt and jaskier to finally come back together, with enough time and space to settle into a mutual secure tenderness instead of the current wordless, longing, poised-always-to-spring-away-like-deer-in-a-forest situation; but the story is coaxing me into a more adult patience, an appreciation for the smaller quieter incidental pleasures that aren’t the one subsuming great love, and then also teaching me to live with the wounds one inevitably acquired along the way, the pull and ache of those that makes the whole thing real, not a shining fantasy but a homely pie with a rich satisfying filling, savory and bolstering.

my body bruises at your touch by @brawlite: jaskier gets tied up by geralt as bait for the monster of the week, and discovers he likes it quite a bit. smut (and then aftercare) ensues.

demand an encore (wip) by emamel/@theaceace: jaskier is a witcher of the viper school, or used to be. he doesn’t remember it, but geralt does.

it’s been a while since i read this, but the way the layers slowly start fitting together is really satisfying: all the joy of what i think the kids call ‘identity porn,’ with the twist that here, it’s geralt who knows both identities, and jaskier who’s still in ignorance. ugh, i want chapter 3 now.

musica universalis by flirtygaybrit is bookverse and clearly so—it’s not romantic, but there’s a particular ambiguous flavor of solicitous tenderness that elevates this ‘friendly drunken hookup’ scenario to something memorable for me.

of cherries and dandelions by heyriel: in which a still-virginal jaskier bites off more than he can chew, and tries to disguise it until he can’t anymore. as i said to the author:

this is lovely and realistic in its navigation of, like, trying to Be Cool and the ways that can sometimes get you in trouble as a young sexplorer—geralt is so good to jaskier here and i’m having feelings about it!

also geralt uses a dildo on jaskier, which was not a thing i’d known i wanted before reading this, but it turns out i’m very decidedly here for it! i haven’t seen a ton of sex toys in geraskier fic and this story makes me wish there were more.

gentle-sharp and strange by lisztful has some excellent touch-starved pining geralt, also a performatively public bath scene with very satisfactory sexual tension, also an Ancient Tradition which is maybe the thing i remember most about this fic.

i know that you would want it (if i could sink my teeth into you) by objectlesson is... look, there’s an actual emotional arc to this story, but really what i always remember about it is that it’s got the most overwhelmingly visceral rimming scene i’ve maybe ever read? it’s a lot, it’s a gift, go read it.

@pasdecoeur has several stories that are very funny with some very piercingly erotic moments! briefly sketched in some ways and more pining than porny but no less effective for it.

benefits by @shastafirecracker is a pwp story in which jaskier is first surprised to find geralt wants him to top, and then determined to give geralt the best dicking he’s ever had. jaskier’s inner dialogue in this one is really fun; geralt’s exterior dialogue is true to the show in that it’s minimal but nonetheless includes a bad pun. :)

even a small love by shecrows/@leighway is like. you think you know how things are going to go, and then jaskier balks and it abruptly swerves sideways and develops a whole plot, and then comes back around to where it started, but deeper and better. don’t you love how you can summarize a fic without saying anything meaningful or even helpful about it? anyway: read this one.

snowmelt by silklace/@silkcoeur is a/b/o and somehow both extremely hilarious and extremely hot in full measure. the banter is a fucking delight but so are the tension/sex/feelings.

It wasn’t until they were well on the road away from town that it really hit him, though possibly he should have been paying attention to the way the backs of his knees had started sweating the minute he’d seen Geralt walking towards him outside of Yennefer’s manor, or to the way his throat had gone hot and dry despite the taste of sweetness still on the back of his teeth from the wine skin he’d pilfered from her pantry on his way out. In his defense, he’d still been recovering from spending the prior evening steadfastly spitting his insides up onto his outsides. Also, he tended to always get a little sweaty around Geralt, a fact they were both apparently extremely united in assiduously pretending was not happening.

the sevenfold path by star_flaming/@europeansdomusicalsbetter: in which jaskier is demonstrably extremely well educated, and geralt has feelings about it. (i also have feelings about it, but mine are in my pants.)

you are in my blood by @suzukiblu​: au where jaskier is a bruxa. this alters his character significantly—hard to be too skittish about bloodletting when you’re a vampire!—but the story’s so engaging you probably won’t care? plus, uh, hot. :)

Jaskier’s just debating how much trouble he’s actually in when Geralt, marvelously, talks them out of it. After that, well... Jaskier still wants to eat him very badly, but he supposes it’d be a bit ungrateful of him. Geralt isn’t very impressed with the song he writes for him, unfortunately—which, rude—but doesn’t try to run off and leave him either, so.. Well, Jaskier’s a bit smitten. A delicious-smelling witcher who can talk his way out of being murdered is very impressive. And he always has wanted a pet.

taran (@iamtaran)’s manhandling without plot series has no sex but lots of violent, compellingly visceral hijinks and i like to think of it as preslash. three times geralt hauls jaskier out of trouble.

Jaskier is flat on his back with his chemise rucked up to his armpits, salve burning on his bruised ribs, breathing hard; he is drunk, but not nearly as drunk as he was when he threw that first punch; Geralt is stupidly strong and has him pinned beneath one hand and the sheer girth of his own hips, looking grumpy and short on patience, and under everything—the aromatic menthol and chamomile smell of the salve, the aching of his cheek and lip, the relief of seeing Geralt just as upright and uninjured as he had been when he left, Jaskier is… He had thought he was furious. He still is, somewhat. Like… like a seed is a flower. It was, at first, before it became something else. And given enough time it might become such again. It is what it is in the meantime, however. Fury. Seeds.

last but not least, @toyhto​ has a bunch of fics that crack me the fuck up: geralt is unbelievably oblivious to his own emotions even as he acts on them, and it’s just—it’s so, so funny. also sometimes quite sweet, and sometimes quite painful! there’s a particular air of, i don’t know, almost see-spot-run impenetrability to the writing here that lends itself perfectly to the thing the stories are doing, where geralt is just operating totally on a surface level and, like, feelings are moving in the deep but he can’t quite see them...

...and that’s all for now! more to come later, maybe; but this seems like plenty for a first pass, and anyway i’m blurbed out.

[phidica]

So, as you can see, my queue ran out last June and all I’ve done since then is reblog a couple of topical posts. But here’s the thing; that did not occur for lack of content that I wanted to reblog -- in fact, quite the opposite! Read on and I shall explain, because truly what is left for me to talk about on this blog besides the act of running the blog itself?

The way that I’ve historically prepared my post queue has been to open posts I intend to reblog in new tabs (whether I encounter them on the dashboard or via RSS feeds) and set them aside for later. At some point, ideally with no more than a few dozen posts in the pile, I would load all the tabs and then go through and manually rearrange them, then I would tag and add the posts to my queue in that very sequence

My reasons for doing this were twofold. Firstly, I wanted each day’s posts to be a fair mix of topics that didn’t put too many posts from the same fandom in a row. This was to avoid, for instance, multiple consecutive days of posts being nothing but MLP art thus giving the wrong impression to passersby about the focus of my blog, or overly annoying followers who weren’t interested in that topic at all (supposing that I even have active followers any more hah). Hence a degree of randomness was called for in the arrangement of posts. But secondly, I did not want to use the “shuffle queue” feature (is this a Tumblr builtin or an XKit extension? all I know is that the button has haunted me for a lifetime) because I preferred my queue to be in semi-chronological order, and I liked to create callforwards and callbacks in the tags. Oh we’re getting deep into my mental thought processes now...

I liked a semi-chronological queue because that way, as the posts were, erm, posted, any references to recent events in shows or fandoms would remain in the appropriate order without anything seemingly getting mixed up or obscuring some context. Then, regards to my tags: this didn’t happen terribly often but for instance there are the cases of me introducing a new tag and offering some commentary on the fact I have introduced that tag right next to it, which only works out if I can be certain which post that tag really does first appear on. Or I might leave commentary about a particular run of posts that I’ve just queued up. And, relatedly though not exactly the same, there are those posts that are best read in a certain sequence because that is key to some particular joke

So at this point I have explained why:

I don’t add posts to my queue immediately upon seeing them (ans: because they need to be at least lightly randomised), and why

I didn’t simply shuffle the entire queue at once to achieve said randomisation (ans: because subsets of the queue needed to be in a particular sequence).

I expect it’s becoming obvious where this is going, not least because of the contrast between past and present tenses, but I might as well cough up another paragraph or five to contextualise this further when I’ve already come so f a  r

I can actually probably trace the start of this system breaking down to the day that I upgraded to Firefox Quantum, the release from which point on you could only use WebExtensions, because at that point I lost access to an important addon, I think it was called like...Tab Groups Plus, or something. The point was that it let you see all your tabs on like a tiled view, showing previews of the content, and you could sort them into groups created and destroyed on-demand which would move them around in your tab list. This was an excellent tool for arranging posts into just the right order prior to queuing them, because I would be able to first sort them by fandom, and then start shuffling them together manually with just the right spacing to make it all work out nicely. With the loss of that extension, I had to start making do with the equivalent procedure with just moving the tabs around in the tab bar (okay, the tab tree, but let’s not go there right now), and with no previews of their content so I had to constantly click into tabs to check which was which. That sucked and was very difficult and time consuming and simply a huge downgrade

As a consequence of these changes to my workflow, I started doing the task of sorting tabs and queuing up posts less often, thus letting more posts pile up at once. Obviously I did cope with this for some time, since Firefox Quantum hit in November 2017 apparently?? fuck it’s been so long oh god and obviously I have still managed to get a lot of posts through my blog since then, though with more stops and starts (this story gets a bit messy because I also had waning investment in Tumblr at times, which also contributes to not actively running the blog, but I think the tabs thing is a bigger factor)

These big stacks of posts waiting for me to load them and sort them and then semi-randomise them have something of an exponential weight. As you might imagine there’s the mental aversion to starting a process when there’s already a lot of stuff to do, and then that just leads to there being more to do, and the nightmare spirals. But in a much more corporeal sense, it appears that the Tree Style Tab (oh fuck now I do have to go there, shit, okay. uh. it’s like if you replaced the tab bar (from the top of the screen) with a bookmarks toolbar (on the side of the screen) and you can sort tabs into folders and new tabs open from a given tab open as “children” of that tab, indented under them. it’s very nice for managing a winding path you might take through Wikipedia or TV Tropes, if you can imagine that. I don’t do that though; I just open a bajillion tabs from Tumblr and stuff them into a single folder that collapses into a single tab and hides them so I can continue to use my web browser despite the fact I have so many fucking tabs open) and really Firefox in general start to respond much slower to the act of loading new tabs or moving tabs around when you already have so many tabs in the tree. Literally, the more tabs I open from Tumblr, the physically harder it is to load those tabs and move them around in order to sort them to queue them to close them and thus allow me to move on to new tabs

That is the situation I find myself in now. As I said at the start, my blog ground to a halt not because of a lack of content, but an excess. I have so many posts that I want to put in my queue to reblog, that they are actively weighing down my web browser to the point that I can hardly start the process of queuing them in the first place

Naturally, something had to give eventually. Here’s what I was looking at a few hours ago

that’s right, I had 230 tabs in the pile. It’s too much. And the idea of closing that parent tab, and killing all 230 of them at once... It’s a solution of sorts, but never the one I wanted to take. I guess it was because I talked about this with Kylie the other week, and she suggested that I just shuffle the queue with the button that shuffles the fucking queue, Violet, that I started considering my way out

So, that’s what I’ve done. Look

And that only took me three hours! As opposed to an actual eternity!

Maybe this is only how I’ll swing things until this pile clears, or maybe it will be the way I work going forward. For now, I am making adjustments to the way that I tag posts in order to generally try and avoid that context-dependent commentary which has previously demanded that I keep things in a curated order. And fortunately, at the moment, I have been out of the active reblog scene for so long that there are no fandom chronologies I need to match step with, so shuffling everything is fine in that regard as well. And I haven’t yet encountered any posts that work best with the one-two punch in just the right order, but if I do, my plan is to just schedule them, for some random day in the future, with only a minute’s difference between them. I have done that before in certain circumstances anyway. So I have, with relatively little effort in the end, I suppose, (big thanks to my wife for letting me sequence-break my brain), allowed myself to click the magic “Shuffle Queue” button... And we’re gonna see if this lets me actually clear the whole backlog in the end, and perhaps regain control of my life web browser life

But rn I need to go to sleep because I just stayed up like an extra two hours beyond the point I needed to be asleep writing this all out in one stream of thought whoops

[franziska-writes]

blackberry (1/2, second part in reblog)

warning: if you're sensitive to mentions of or reading about deceit, acting, teeth, general themes of romance, arguing, death, harm, manipulation, swearing/cursing/bad words, dramatized themes of danger, stress, fear, crying, mentions of food, negative self talk, poor and unhealthy coping mechanisms, fire, emotional masking, trauma, god/religion mentions, self blaming, oversharing, grandfather mentions, caps, no caps, then reader discretion is advised.

as I laid myself down to sleep that night, images of her flashed across my eyelids, and questions floated about in my brain like the remnants of light I saw when I closed my eyes. who was she? how did she know how to charm me so well? so intuitively? what was it about me that gave her such intimate access to my wants and desires? but then, as that question toppled off the heap of other such queries, there was a stillness in which I made a revelation.

it wasn’t anything about me in particular that allowed her entry into my mind—it was the woman herself.

I’d had my eyes on her all night, keeping careful watch after I narrowly realized what she was doing. I’d seen her change her colors like a chameleon or an octopus or something entirely otherworldly. her body language would shift to match and compliment whomever she was speaking to—where the sparks of playful rivalry took hold in one conversation, a childlike innocence possessed her in the next. and I had no clue how she could possibly come to have all these different, impossibly perfect qualities possessing her at just the right moment—up until I realized that she was the one possessing them.

this woman was a marvellous actor, far greater than any seen in film.

where film actors worked with a script and set motions and cameras ready to re-record any scene, she worked with real people, with real situations, with moments she had no choice to re-do.

and it was in this moment that her danger fully struck me: this woman, whom I’d all but fallen head over heels for the moment I’d met her, was a shapeshifter.

no, maybe not in the fantastical sense—but it was there.

the gleam in her eye, childlike and bright and new. the glint of chandelier light off her teeth, summoning and bold and terrifying. the shimmer bouncing off her lipgloss, romaticible and flirtatious and seemingly unknowingly breathtaking. she shot to stun.

it was all instinctively woven, all created on the spot from a single introduction alone, all seamlessly stitched together so well that you’d see depth where there was only darkness.

but then again, perhaps she was a siren.

the tantalizing pull when her eyes met yours, like you’d known each other your whole lives and knew no world without the other. the sweet lull of her voice, melting over every syllable like molten metal. the poetry that she spoke, like fire trailing down my limbs as she spoke to me and said my every desire out loud for only us two to hear……. the performance never gave up. she struck to kill, and oh, I think I let her already……

this woman.

this peculiar, dangerously endearing, disarmingly charming woman—this woman, whose eyes were hazelnut whilst also being lizard-green, whose hair was a shifting multitude of different shades of blonde, whose lips were just pillowy enough and whose cheekbones could cut more than glass and whose brows perked just in that right way—oh, dear god, had she enchanted me.

only for me to be told it wasn’t real, only for her to be told to give up the illusion, only for something realer and angrier and bitterer to rear her sharp-defined face for me to see as she laughed at my inability to see through her.

and even then, there was nothing.

only the cold shell of what was born into this world as a human being, but was now something entirely different—simply put: gone.

when I looked into her eyes around the others, they were hollow, hateful, devoid of any and all goodness or emotion or anything even remotely close to that undeniable spark that all life supposedly held.

but when she was out there—out there, doing her job, the one we’d brought her on for…...she shapeshifted, truly, and fully.

her eyes gleamed gold and brown and green and even red under the different lights. her mouth twisted upwards and rested downwards and was open enough for me to see her bite her bottom lip and glance over just to see me cry on the inside. her shoulders were lax and back and shrunk inward depending on just how much she was leading the conversation—though, no matter what, she always had complete control.

and now, as I laid myself down to sleep, I couldn’t get her out of my mind.

how flamboyant and intoxicating she’d been to everyone at the dinner party, how she’d melted in through the cracks to form whoever she needed to be for them, how she’d caught the void in every person’s heart and filled it with illusions of her own making—god, I needed to know how it was so convincing.

and several weeks of using her talents to extract valuable information later, I’d know.

she’d had exactly the same baseline with me every time we met around the others: somewhat withdrawn, burnt-out almost, a faded capture of what she thought a real human being ought to be underneath all the sparkle and jazz-handing of showbiz. she was a performer, through and through, and even this was a performance—although, I got the sense that I was seeing something I wasn’t meant to: she was tired.

and finally, I’d have clarity on that, because I was left alone with her for the first time.

she’d just blown up on everybody, snapping off like she usually did until one of the group said something particularly choice that I didn’t catch. suddenly, the shell before me erupted into roaring flames—the way her voice deepened as she bellowed, the way her tongue slipped over every personally hurtful word she spat out at everyone, the way she rose up and was suddenly more physically imposing than I’d ever thought a person could be….! I was scared for my damn life—I thought for sure she would kill me if I looked at her for too long. and she did it all without breaking a sweat—her hands didn’t shake, and her voice never wavered or clipped, and her eyes were dry and her face was pale. she chewed every single person in the room out, assaulted them at their weak spots and threw the verbal equivalent of boiling hot acid their way—and she did this to everyone except for me. I thought I was lucky to be alive. I was glad for being ignored, and prayed to god that she’d forgotten all about me in the act of getting some apparently well-deserved insults out to settle in the dust of her past with everyone else.

but when she ordered everyone out of the room, I went to go with the rest of them—but she boldly said no, glared them all in the eyes and said that I could stay. when I looked back to my friends for some sort of excuse to go with them, to convey my complete and utter shock at her words, to beg them all through my eyes to get me away from this horrifying display of power so far beyond anything I’d ever seen in a person………….they just stared back. upset, and hurt, and also just as confused as I was.

they left me all alone with that snake—because by then, that’s what I’d been calling her: a snake. not based off any old garden snake or viper, but based off the serpent that convinced Eve to take a bite of the forbidden fruit.

based off temptation and willful deceit.

the moment the door shut and the group meandered away was the moment I felt the room change with her.

it was like the power being cut in the middle of a wild storm, only for the storm to be cut with it; it was silent. still.

and then, she gave a great sigh, and slid back into her chair which was turned away from me for reasons I could only describe as god’s sweet mercy on me.

I, slowly, tiptoed as silent as I could back to where I’d been sitting, but still stood because I was afraid I’d have to make a run for it.

the energy in the room was terribly unsettling.

it was like I’d just watched two strangers end a decades-long relationship in a quiet, deserted waiting room, and half of the pair had walked away and now I was left alone with the other half.

I kept my gaze fixed on her.

it was soon that I noticed just how run-down she looked—just how….different she was.

she was slouched over the desk with her head in one gloved hand, and her fingers were on the brink of carding through her hair. I could feel the stress radiating off her, and for the first time, it was something real, something substantial—I could feel it. it was so, so different to how she’d acted with me when we’d first met. she’d been charming and witty and smooth, and had fit herself into me like a puzzle piece. but now…..there was a noticeable difference. no longer did she seem to exude good and exciting vibes, the kind you’d find within the thrumming thrall of a party, but instead, she was just……….there.

she looked tired, worn out. looked like she hadn’t slept in days and it’d only just caught up to her.

eventually, this nightmare would soon change into a different nightmare—a minute or so after the door shut, she spoke to me, keeping her back turned to me and her face pointedly hidden from view.

“do you know why you’re still here?”

her voice was…..oh, dear god, it was strained, like she was fighting back tears with the small amount of strength she had left. but I was sure I knew not to comfort her—the others had told me just how professional of a deceiver this woman was, and I’d observed it to be true.

I fumbled so hard for an answer that I simply didn’t give one in my panic—but that was alright, because like the perfect actress she was, she seemed prepared to monologue.

“it’s because you’re the only one here who’s acted even remotely like a human fucking being.”

oh?

….oh…..

…………….oh.

oh, god.

“honestly, I—” she began again, cut off by some unheard thing I assumed was a suppressed cry. she took in a deep, faintly shuddering, breath, and continued. “—don’t know why I let them near me. all they do is make me feel like a villain. and I—know that I am one, but…..” and here was when she tried to mask herself with social relatability— “...just because I am one doesn’t mean I have to feel like one, ahah……..”

she fell flat.

she fell flat, and I knew that was wrong, wrong because I’d seen her in action: becoming part of other people in beautiful, polychromatic splendor, matching energies and mirroring body language and altering pronunciations and changing names and smiles and shapes.

but now…..now, she was monochromatic: captured in gray light, a beautiful intellectual—broken but full. full, now, for the first time before my eyes, because everything else I’d seen as hollow and empty. after all—lies were only lies, weren’t they? there was no truth in them, no genuine emotion, no…...anything, really, in my experience.

I felt spurred to comfort her—not because of the daydream she’d probably have rathered to pretend to be, but instead because I saw a glimpse of the human being inside of her.

“y-you’re…...not a villain.”

a sad huff of amusement through her nose as her whole upper half jolted just slightly, “sweetheart, you don’t even know me. everything you’ve seen has been a lie. you know that.”

…..I didn’t know where to go from there.

she was right. she was absolutely right. I had no idea who this frustrated, sad being before me was—but now, I…..I wanted to know. wanted to know her interests, her hobbies, her favorite book, her favorite television show, what joke made her laugh the most, or if she even genuinely laughed at all.

“...........how do you do it?”

my voice was feeble, small, like that of a rabbit cowering behind a great lion.

“how do I do what?” she responded after a short pause, voice clicking even with the smooth ups and downs of her vocal pattern. she really was tired…..if only she’d look at me so I could be sure—

“d-deceive.. like you do. how do—how can you create something so lifelike out of-of thin air? y-you’re lying every minute I see you, and-and yet, I—I-I’m tricked every time. ho-how do you do it?”

it was poorly worded, poorly phrased—but she picked up on what I really meant by it.

I had no clue how she could always know so much.

she laughed, darkly and quietly, with such bitterness that I could taste it like an unripe blackberry in my mouth—and then she turned her face so I could see it, and that was the moment something real began.

her eyes were misty, and her cheeks were flushed, and there was a smile stuck on her face by sheer inevitability.

when she spoke, her words—it’s so difficult to describe, but they evaporated like honey in the dim lamplight.

“there’s a drop of truth in every lie.”

it was simple, yet packed full of meaning, and my mind reeled as I had another revelation.

she wasn’t just playing a part, was she….?

“when I’m with people, I see these voids in them—what they want out of people, what their perfect compliment would be, what they want out of me. I see a void, and I fill it—it’s an instinct that I’ve sharpened to be useful over time.”

oh……

“but of course, no performance is perfect. my execution is only flawless because, to me, it’s a game of survival, and the slightest hair out of place means game over.” her eyes were cast down then, apparently unable to hold my gaze. was she that exhausted? “it drains me. I can’t be around people for very long as I am, but having to act every moment of it just takes more away from me. I’m tired. but I’m a good masker—it’s what growing up in my particular circumstances caused me to have ingrained in me. seared into my flesh and bone and brain….. I must perform perfectly because this to me is the art of survival—yet even so, no performance is perfect. I am more than a good liar. a good liar will feel his performance and give it everything he’s got—but I can do so much more.”

oh.

“with just a brush of my fingertips, I can get a man to weep at my feet. with just the quirk of a brow, I can drive a woman mad. with just the right word, I can draw out a person’s deepest secrets and intrigues. I can control any variable you want me to. I can dominate a conversation, I can be invisible in a crowd, I can make someone resent me. the only thing I’ve grown too much to do is be immune. I can control any situation without saying a word. I can control myself and my body and my responses at the drop of a hat. the only thing I cannot control……...are my emotions.”

oh.

“the moment I leave the conversation, more of me dies and fizzles out into smoke. I...know I could have everything. I could rule the damn world if I wanted to, I’m sure of it. I could have people and friends and enemies and rivals……...but I don’t.”

…….there was a lull there, as she traced the edge of the desk with a finger and cast her forlorn gaze over the carpet.

I’d been so enraptured by the mental pictures she painted for me that I’d completely forgotten I was here with her.

like the stammering idiot I was, I made myself speak up.

“wh-why…..why don’t you? is-is it because you don’t…..uh…..w-want people i-in your life?”

I could’ve cursed at the way her next expression made me feel—a look of anguish flashed across her face, and god, it was more beautiful than any of the lies she’d been before.

“yes, but also no. I…..believe me, I want people—I think that much is obvious, in how entangled my emotions become with my victims, but…...but I—”

a sad smile.

I could feel reminiscence in her eyes.

“I’m not cut out for people.”

...huh?

“wh-what d’you mean?”

she looked up at me, and—and for the first time, I saw a spark of life in her eyes. it made me want to do foolish things, made me want to jump and scream and laugh and cry and—

“I ruin them. I’m the perfect weapon, sweetheart: I’m built to ruin and destroy and conquer. I can override my own body’s signals and ignore my emotions and run for hours on empty. but people….” her brows rose and she looked off to the side, as though impressed and annoyed at the same time. “......people can’t do that. people fall to their emotions and make irrational and poor decisions and struggle to keep it together no matter how rehearsed they are. they drop when they’re tired and their functioning derails. they are not like me. they are soft, and I am sharp and callous. they are warm, and I am cold and mean. they are sensitive and careful with themselves, whereas I fling myself into traumatic situations on the daily even when I am hurt.”

I couldn’t think.

all I could do was process—twenty minutes ago, I’d barely been certain of her status as a human being, and now, she was spilling over in front of me.

and then I realized that she was cracking. breaking. faltering.

no longer was she a carefully maintained shell—now, now she was……..on the verge of tears…..

“there is a shred of truth in every lie that I embody. and my truth is my insatiable desire to be not alone as I have been all my life.”

I stood there in shocked silence for a solid ten seconds.

insatiable……….?

“wh-why...insatiable?”

she looked me dead in the eye and suddenly I understood how the ocean’s tides felt about the moon.

“because I won’t let myself be satiated. nor will I ever let myself be soothed, nor will I ever let myself be comforted.”

my eyebrows pinched above the bridge of my nose.

“why?”

“because that is the most dangerous act of all.”

I was confused. how could it be dangerous to—?

“if my emotions make me want people so desperately to love me when I am simply performing for them…..then I shudder to think what would happen to me if I allowed myself to relax into someone. it’s the same reason no one’s allowed to touch me.”

………….ah. I’d…..I’d noticed that.

no matter how physical my friends were with each other and with me, none of them ever came too close to her, and she actively kept herself at a safe physical distance from most people we encountered. I only steered clear of her because, if I was to be honest, I’d been scared of her up until this point.

even now, she intimidated me—but I was slowly coming to grasp a portion of who she really was.

“but…...but, surely, that- can’t be healthy.” I attempted to argue, feeling a dark weight settle over me. I never liked it when people hurt themselves like that on purpose.

a small, resigned smile found its way onto her face. she hadn’t looked at me for some time now. it was odd to see someone with such a big presence refuse to make eye contact…

“it isn’t.”

my brain paused to compute that.

“then—why do you do it?”

“survival. people get close to me, I hurt them, and they hurt me back, and then they leave. it’s a cycle. I’m simply protecting myself, because I know that the moment I am shown true kindness, I will be floored and malleable in ways you cannot imagine. another reason I wear so many masks—even if I am touched or on the receiving end of kindness, it is still never really me. simply a vision of what they think I ought to be.”

“.......o-oh……..” softer than a whisper.

“I don’t need kindness. I don’t need comforted, and I don’t need people. and so long as I am acting, I am safe from whatever could be.”

now, in this moment, I was feeling stupid. but not stupid as in the unintelligent kind—stupid as in the daring kind.

I’d just made up my mind on a lot of things. I knew what I wanted to do, and I knew there was no stopping my own nurturing instincts, and I knew I was one of those people she’d described earlier that fell constantly to their emotions.

“well, you’re...you’re not acting right now, are you?”

I phrased it simply, casually—like it was any old question without intent hidden under it like the mud under the plank of oak wood outside my grandfather’s home.

she squinted her eyes at me, like she was meant to be wearing glasses but had forsaken them.

“I………..n-no. no, I’m—not.”

she sounded more shocked than I’d been during this entire conversation.

“then come here.” I instructed her gently, taking a few steps towards her as if to show her it would be a joint effort.

she was reluctant and slow in her movements, but smooth nonetheless. (CONT'D)

[alicec-666]

Okay, so, I did it... I wrote my first creepy story about my oc, and... Oof, damn, I hope, I'm not too late for this yes I am late af I know

Anywaaaay, here it is ^^

Sharing only here, so, please, no reblogging or claiming your ownership on it, okay?

Thank you in advance!

And hope you enjoy :')

The Sarah's Mask (original story, pls, no copyright)

It was today's afternoon when it happened. Judging by the nine years I worked in this mental hospital, I can be certain when yelling you that the work that needed to be done got bigger every month, and most of my coworkers have coped with it as much as they could. We dealt with many troublesome patients during this period, and hardly any cases would be ofof what I could call "extraordinary". Certainly, there were many depressive individuals with an intent of self-harm or suicidal thoughts, or schizophreniacs that associated their world with ours in almost the same way, that is, with visages of silhouettes that weren't there or voices in their heads, you know the drill. Rarely so, but we also got an experience of working with the local criminals, who were on the verge of beginning a genocide on the streets or feeling joy through the sexual acts with other individuals, whether they wanted it or not, and whom we needed to check on mental stability during their process in the court. Not only cases, but the age range of our patients was rather normal too; from the young teenagers to the elderly people, whoever had troubles in their life and wanted to be cured, or were forced to by the judging society, those could join into our therapy whenever they wanted. And today was not an exception.

In the afternoon, while having a break, I was sitting onon the sofa in the rest room together with Michelle and Jim, talking about life and giggling at the fun situations, which we had before the work, similar to the ones of one being late to the job together with a manager, or mistaking a random person for your good acquaintance, you can name any of it. Anyway, it was through the laughter and sipping coffee, when I recall having heard a knock in the door. With a cheerful invite to come in from Michelle, I've seen how the door opened slightly, and behind itself revealed a peeking out face of Lucy, the psychiatrist trainee who has finished her studies over a year ago. Her face was rather worried, but I shook it off at first, knowing that the lady was known to be rather shy with the clinic's staff in general.

- Excuse me for interrupting, but if you don't mind, I would like to ask Mr Owen to come out for a moment, - her voice was trembling, and II noticed how she looked at her feet in embarrassment, but quietly appreciated her efforts of coming herehere by herself, which already made some progress in willingness to cooperate with others instead of always being on her own. Surely, in her 23 years, Lucy was one of the youngest workers here, nonetheless, she was very gifted with a wish to learn and improve.

- I will be just a second, - getting off the sofa and giving an assuring smile to the staring colleagues, I raised up and with a nod came up towards the young trainee and out in the hall, closing the door after myself in the process. Looking the woman up and down, I leaned towards the wall behind me and smiled softly:

- Is anything the matter, Lucy? As far as I'm concerned, you have been assigned with a patient this morning, correct? So, have you found out what is the case there?

- Yes, sir... I mean, no, sir-- I-I mean, - there was a folder in Lucy's arms that I noticed her clenching to every now and then, the folder with a printed surname on it "Junior". It was a patient that I have heard about only the previous evening, when a man from the register said that some odd looking adolescent came up to them and registered for the therapy for this morning, and, after leaving copies of her documents, has left shortly. From what we knew about this patient so far is that it was a female of age 20 with the blue tone coloured hair tied into a long pigtail, purple sports clothes and red shoes. However, what interested me the most from the register guy's description, was that this woman the entire time, through coming up to him and signing up for a meeting, has held an obnoxious foaming mask together with her. Long story short, we accepted her to have a meeting with Lucy, since both of these women were at their last years of forming their identity to the society, and could have something in common. That is why I was truly surprised when Lucy, now sobbing before me, said shakingly, - I... I can't do this, sir! She is not like any patients I needed to deal with before, she scares me.

- She is younger than you by almost four years, Miss Cadavre, - I said in a firm voice with a sigh, - And she is hardly any different from any other patients we had here so far, even though she does have quite... An extraordinary sense of fashion.

- You don't understand, Mr Owen, she is just something I don't think I can cope with, - noticing just now that her eyes kept filling up with tears, the trainee quickly wiped them with her sleeve, and looked at me again, - And it's not only her physical looks, she seems to be so... Unnerving. With her quick change of behavior or her murmuring something about hearing that "annoying voice" in her mind... Not to mention dozing off and talking to herself while I was trying to chat with her.

- I'm pretty sure there is nothing to worry about, my dear. Honestly, it may be nothing as serious as schizophrenia. - I shrugged, being fairly disappointed in the trainee's words, - It would be odd if you missed the classes about this disorder during your studies, Mrs Cadavre.

- I didn't miss any, sir! But I do swear to you, this girl is not like those patients I've dealt with before, - she was shaking at this point, and she was right at some point; as she was a newbie, we didn't want her to deal with any extreme cases yet, so the most of her patients were depressive teenagers or elderly people with the trauma after losing their kids or grandkids in an accident, - I cannot explain it, but I can't work with her one on one in there! So, I was thinking if I could be replaced by someone else

- Absolutely not. Unfortunately, miss Cadavre, you are the only one left among those who have been given tasks with the new wave of patients, since everyone else is busy by now. - I made a small pause, and after seeing how her gaze dropped on the floor again, thought to self for a mokent, after which spoke up again, - If you're so worried, however, I could come to her together with you, as an observer. This way, I will note what your trouble with her may be, and could help you out.

The trainee quickly raised up her head staring at me with her shining gray eyes, which clearly showed the gratitude, after which she nodded with a delight, and a quiet "thank you" came out of her mouth.

After some twelve minutes passing by, both of us came into the room 042, the Lucy's cabinet, which contained of two chairs, a small sofa, a table and some shelbes on the wall where several documents and the trainee's personal belongings took their place. On the sofa or, rather, by it, there was a female in her dirty sports clothes, with a greenish-blue hair and hazel eyes, who was holding an odd black mask in her hands and rubbing it slightly. Even as we came in and Lucy sat down on one of the chairs, the patient was asas if unaware of our existence, being distracted by her own doing, and murmuring some odd sentences, somesome of which I could hear as "I know that you don't like it, but I want it to end once and for all", "We can't be friends anymore, you do understand it, right?", "Please, stop saying such horrible things to me...". Looking down at the worried trainee, then back at the female, I cleared my throat, trying my best to gain the adolescent's attention, and once I did, I peoceeded in greeting her:

- Greetings, you must be Sarah Junior, right? My name is doctor U. N. Owen, and this, - I gestured to Lucy, who gave out her best comforting smile to the patient, - is my colleague and the best therapist, miss Ca--

- I am well acquainted with miss Cadavre, thank you, - glancing at me, the adolescent sat right on the couch this time, putting the mask beside her on the small decoration cushion, and spoke up again, - It was the first thing we did on this meeting before... She ran out of the cabinet for some reason.

Junior looked at the trainee rather apathetically, after which proceeded to stare after me with her cold eyes, as I managed to get myself straight, not turning away from her. In my 47 years lived in this society, I was well aware of how most of the patients here and manipulators in general tended to keep an eye contact with their "prey", trying to break their interlocutor's confidence, and get an upper hand in the conversation. Looking back at Sarah, I continued:

- Right, so... Getting to the main point, miss Cadavre is going to ask you some questions about your life and troubles since you must have come to us for a reason. And, let me tell you, it's very... Appreciated of you to be seeking for cure on your own, especially since not many people can be managed to get to the thera-- Excuse me, but are you listening right now?

- She isn't, sir... - replied Lucy, both me and her staring at Junior who was now looking at the ceiling while hardly blinking, - It's just as I said before, this girl tends to be spacing out from time to time, so I couldn't talk to her normally.

Glancing at the trainee, and then back at Sarah, I noticed how something black begun arising in the air beside the female... The smoke? As it began rising higher, I just then noticed how the mask, lying like before on the cushion, turned it black as its eyes and mouth's holes began glittering with a weird yellow lighting, and I could swear that on the same mask, the mouth hole widened in an awful grin, after which the smoke, as black as was this piece of Sarah's inventory, has slowly spread through the closed cabinet. Unable to sense a thing, except for some odd smell of mixed gas and cotton candy, the only thing I remember is coughing while trying to breathe through the suffocating fumes and seeing how the Sarah's silhouette, beginning to get off the couch as if nothing happened, put the mask on her face, and stared back at me, with an amused laughter tricking out of her lips, and as its volume was increasing, I lost my balance sue to inhaling too much of the smoke and had a hard fall on the floor, falling into slumber.

Since that moment, at least three hours have passed for sure, since now, looking at the clock on my wrist, I can without a doubt remember when I came into this cabinet. Oddly enough, instead of lying on the cold floor as I think I was on before, I found myself on the same couch that Junior once was on. Not only that, but there is a track of almost dried blood on the floor before the Lucy's table... Checking myself on any wounds or bruises, though, not without a relief, I found out that didn't have any savage wounds or, furthermore, any bleeding spots. Miss Cadavre, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky. Right now, while writing to you about all of this story, my hands are trembling, as I can't keep my eyes from glancing at the pale lifeless body of this poor trainee. I don't know if that adolescent is still in the clinic now or what she had against Lucy, but one thing is for sure, I shouldn't have been so reckless to let the newbie take this woman in the first place... Especially not after what I found on her desk.

After reading this entire letter from her, it's clear to me that not only has she got a major peek of mental instability, but she is also needed to be secluded from society no matter the costs. This is why, even if I can't do much for you from my current spot now, please, I beg of you, be very wary. And if you ever meet an obnoxious girl in the sports costume with the dyed hair, and the foaming mask - don't come close to her, not under any circumstances. Or the consequences of this encounter may be inevitable.

[mybodyfails]

hi hi hiii. finally back home from berlin, caught a few zzz’s, still sleep deprived, but i’d do it again in a heartbeat!

i‘m gonna ~try to do bullet points here, but you know me... probably not gonna happen. sorry, you have to deal with my longwinded ramblings now, i‘m posting this mostly to remember it all for myself.

let me preface this with a quick disclaimer, these kind of events are usually not really for me, too awkward, too cringy, i’m shy as fuck and socially incompetent in general... but druck has had such an impact on my life, it was a no-brainer for me to go.

biggest shoutout to @lapalooz (with no access to her real tumblr, get on that!) for making the waiting time not only bearable but enjoyable with her engaging presence! aaand i’m pretty sure i wouldn‘t have made it to the meet&greet (aka hi&cry) if i didn‘t have the amazing @matteounterdruck by my side. thank you tina, so much!!! you really kept my spirits high and taught me how to release nervous energy through dancing! lmao ❤️❤️❤️

okay. let’s start at the beginning. the exhibition of and appreciation for all the fanart was one of my favourite things when we walked into that location. druck really said this show is as much about YOU as it is about US and just how lovely is that???

the q&a wasn‘t as bad as it could‘ve been... i just wish it would have been a bit longer though! they seemingly were prepared for the ‚why did amira‘s season end after 7 eps‘ question, but tua being honest and saying fuck yes, i wanted 10 eps for her too... iconic.

surprise surprise, the two people i truly didn‘t expect to be there were milena and michi. and then they were! and they were whispering to each other a lot <3 and michi was the most adorable awkward person to ever exist. you can tell he really is such a shy and private person, and i think seeing that spelled out right in front of us like this made it all the more special that he showed up at all! the things he ~did say were really witty and charming though, so there‘s that. 💕

the bloopers were so good, it was moving to see how much fun they had on set and that their friendships aren’t contrived in the slightest! all i kept thinking was “i can‘t wait to reblog the gifs of that to my tumblr“ haha. SO WHERE‘S THE VIDEO @DRUCK?!

for someone who went in there expecting to have a complete breakdown i was actually okay...ish when we watched the ep (i was so relieved to finally see amira again!) and david‘s film... until the cast went up on stage during anselm‘s second song and mile was stood there, tears streaming down her face, leaning on lukas for comfort. oi, that broke me. :(

quick shoutout to the person behind me who was crying in the club as they say, no, actually it was full on SOBBING. in my mind i just kept going ~SAME~. and, you know, anselm‘s songs didn‘t help the cause either... what a mess.

now on to the meet&greet. if you’re not interested in the people behind druck, or you think meeting them in person is weird or whatever - then this part is not for you and you’ll want to x out of here right now, please spare me the comments, i‘ve already had enough negativity in this fandom for years to come, whew.

i‘ll put this under a cut, just to be extra sure.

you know, i‘ve grown so attached to these characters over the last 1.5 years and it was a once in a lifetime opportunity to say thanks to the actresses/actors who made them come to life. for real though, i think really looking them in the eyes and saying THANK YOU was the best thing about the whole experience for me.

this‘ll be chaotic, i’m just gonna list everything i remember off the top of my head, please bear with me.

first of all: best. cast. ever! every single one of them was lovely in their own way... some of them are really high energy people (keep in mind we went in reallllly late, they had been doing this for hours at that point!)... think anselm, tua and mile. they just carried everyone else with their energy!

anselm was as warm and welcoming as i expected, yet it still surprised me how confidently he handled the whole situation (unlike me rip)... i literally blurted out “you‘re such a good host!“ to him and he sounded really flattered when thanking me. he just has the best vibes <3

naomi... oh my god. i was really shocked to even see her at all which was only right before it was our turn with her group. she made a little sarcastic remark about how she “can‘t wait to be tagged in alllll the pictures“ lmao. just leave it up to her to make me fall in love in real life too. :(

i don‘t know if they did it in all of their pictures, but her and hassan were hugging it out in the background of ours like the laura/mohammed crackship that they are. loved that! lmao

speaking of hassan though, i only had the BRIEFEST interaction with him bc how does one cope with all that beauty up close?! one doesn‘t, that‘s how. damn.

i lovelovelove that they kept the five girls together for the photo op, now the pictures ended up looking like we‘re part of their squad!

tua was the life of the party, she made the whole room dance and sing along when ‘geiles leben’ came on (that was when most people had left already bc we went in so late)... it was such a special moment!!! she was also really confused whether to speak german or english to us, bilingual queen!

lea gives the BEST hugs that was so unexpected for such a tiny person, she REALLY goes in wow.

jobel... all i remember is that my face was literally buried in her hair while we were hugging and she smelled amazing!

and lilly omg... lilly! my favourite bean, so easy to talk to, the best aura! she was kinda stretching her legs out when we got to her (l m a o) and kept thanking us for waiting so long (which... a few of them said that... and i always replied with a hä?! thank YOU for doing this for so long!) and rolled her eyes just at the thought of the aftershow party they had planned and told us she‘ll only drink water though! lmao

mile as i mentioned earlier was being so motivational, yelling “we‘re gonna do it! we‘re gonna get through all of you!“ in between again and again, probably more for herself than any of us haha. we did end up talking about food with her, which... you know. foodies amongst each other. ;)

found a whole new appreciation for louis... who poured so much of himself into carlos oh my god. chill. quick witted. hilarious!

so now i left lukas for last. as i briefly mentioned before, i didn’t go up to him after romeo&juliet, but this time i did (there really was no other option when you were there, that would‘ve been rude lol) and i wasn’t let down. at all. he was one of the few people who actually properly introduced himself and that is SO nice, one of the things i’ve always loved about people who are in that kinda position, you know? he is just the sweetest sweetheart, we all know it, he’s proven it over and over. he ran across the room bc some fans forgot their photos at their table, that’s how considerate he is. while we were waiting for our pics to be printed, he came over and hugged us AGAIN and made it a point to say goodbye. MY HEART. 💕

oh, also... we noticed that the mile/flo/louis/lukas group was the most organised with the whole picture situation... they had a ~system going y‘all. lmao

okay. i think this might be it for now. OOF. if anyone actually read all that... you deserve a cookie. i know i promised coherent thoughts, but this is. what you’re gonna get. oops?

if i remember other bits and pieces i‘ll put them in my tags or whatever.

i‘m gonna see myself out now.

[canumoveurseatup-no]

Myself - (Steve x Black!Reader)

Summary: You loved Steve more than you loved yourself. But was that enough?

Pairing: Steve x Black!Fem!Reader

WC: 3.2k

Warnings: Angst, Emotional and verbal abuse (I am in no way condoning or romanticizing it. I just recently got out of an emotionally abusive situation and I’m just coping) Feelings of inadequacy, heartbreak. BUT THERE IS HOPE.

Here’s to a New Year. Here’s to leaving toxic things behind. It’s time for a fresh, healthy start.

A/N: I know Steve wouldn’t really act like this so don’t come for me. It is fiction.

A/N pt.2: Hi, just want to say y’alls reblogs and comments mean so damn much. Keep it up <3 

IF YOU WANT A PART 2 PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

       You don’t know where things went wrong. This past year had been amazing with Steve. All the trips you’d taken, the dates you’d went on. The memories created, the love made. You couldn’t ask for a better year with someone you loved with your entire being. You gave him all of you, even parts that you hated and he swore up and down that he loved them. The words slipped so beautifully from his lips that you couldn’t even tell it was a lie, or when it became one that is.

He’d talk to you less, the sex barely happened and when it did you could tell there was no passion involved, it was just happening so he could get his rocks off.

There was no cuddling, no good night or good morning kisses. He wasn’t there for dinner when you cooked. No dates, nothing.

It was like living with a stranger. Like doing an Uberpool with a bitter old man who didn’t want to ride with you. 

You were tearing yourself apart trying to figure out what you did. You loved this man unconditionally all the while not saving any of that love for yourself. 

You couldn’t live like this anymore. No one wants to spend their days questioning their worth. It’s a recipe for self-destruction.

-----------------

You stared at yourself in the mirror, analyzing your figure. You’ve told yourself you weren’t good enough because that’s what Steve made you feel. You were constantly questioning yourself. That’s no way to live. That’s no way to live in a relationship and survive.

He used to pine after you, he wanted you so bad yet here you guys are one year and a few months into the relationship and suddenly he seemed to stop trying so hard. He fought to get you, but he stopped fighting to keep you.

You racked your mind of all your counterparts that he’s flirted with and you were brought back to analyzing your figure in the mirror.

He’d always remind you how beautiful you were, but lately it’s like he was repulsed by you. You weren’t the one that caught and kept his attention anymore.

He wanted perfect. You weren’t perfect so that figures.

In the midst of an argument he said you guys had “moved too fast”. He said it was your fault. He didn’t take a single crumb of blame.

It was my fault, you blamed yourself, I fell in love too hard.

He’d gotten in your head so bad. He knew your weak points. He played all of his cards right, with the poker face of America’s golden boy.

He was one of the best things to be brought into your life. Even with him acting like this, you still loved that man more than you loved yourself. You would never be the same after this. He’d rocked you so hard it felt like you were dying. You guys would spend days arguing with each other. Days of silent treatment.

He’d walk in the door without saying “hi” and Steve couldn’t bear not greeting people. It was a pet peeve of his for someone else to walk in and not acknowledge the presence of others so he made sure he did, until it came to you.

He’d walk out the door and not a single mumble of a “bye” would be uttered. Steve would always make sure you knew where he was going and when he’d be back. Nowadays you wouldn’t know if he was leaving for good.

He only got that way when things didn’t go his way. He could be so immature. 

“How could you tell me you love me and behave this way?,” you called out, voice trembling and muscles tensed.

“Behave what way, Y/N?” he’d gotten so used to dismissing you that he didn’t seem phased as he sat at the dinner table finishing paperwork and reading up on files on new recruits.

“Like a child, Steve. Talk to me, I’m still a part of your life you know. You could at least acknowledge me.” You stood in the doorway, cowering away from him.

“There’s nothing to acknowledge, Y/N.”

You hated hearing your name leave his mouth. He’d always call you your favorite pet name, even before you guys started dating. It wasn’t until recently that he did start using your real name. It sounded so wrong coming from him, you wished it wasn’t your given name. He made you hate it.

He made you feel alone even when he was around. You despised that feeling. You wanted your old Steve back. You don’t know what changed. At the beginning, it felt like he threw you up in the sky and for the entirety of your relationship you were floating in the air. But things got awry and you started to fall. He wasn’t even there to catch you or even help pick you up, no. He let you hit the ground, full force.

“Are you serious? There’s a lot to acknowledge. Maybe tell me why you’ve been acting like a completely different person for no reason. I don’t even know you, anymore,”

“I’m the same man I’ve always been.” he said plainly.

“No, no you’re not.” you shook your head so fast it could’ve fallen off, “Talk to me, Steve. I’m your girlfriend for crying out loud!” you lightly hiccupped and wrapped your arms around yourself.

He slammed his had on the table causing you to jump and take a step back.

“Jesus, Y/N. Give me a break!, Would you be quiet for just a minute?,”

The way he looked at you... it was almost like he was possessed. You didn’t know this man in front of you.

He will never know how you felt, because he didn’t care to know, he was smart enough to not wear his heart on his sleeve like you and that’s exactly where he got you.

~~~~~~~

“You didn’t have to lie to me, Steve!”

Another argument ensued and it drained every ounce of your being

“So you mean to tell me had I told you the truth, you’d have been okay with it?,” He let out an airy chuckle and shook his head at how unbelievably naïve you were.

“Of course not, Steve!,” you sat on your shared bed and looked up at him, you felt so lost, you had no idea how you survived this toxicity for so long, “It’s like you’re embarrassed to be seen with me now. You really had to ask Sharon Carter, your first love’s niece, to a S.H.I.E.L.D black tie event rather than just take me? Your girlfriend for Christ’s sake, am I that embarrassing to you?,”

You didn’t want him to answer and he knew you didn’t want him to, but he controlled your mind with his words and he knew that.

“Is it that obvious?,”

Moments like this he had you wishing you would just die. These mind games, this emotional abuse. It left you feeling like roadkill, feeling abandoned, unloved, unwanted, it was too much. Yet you still had hope that your Steve was in there.

Your Steve would never yell at you in your face like this.

“You’re so damn suffocating, Y/N. Being away from you was such a breath of fresh air. Yet coming back here had me feeling like I needed a damn oxygen tank,” his laugh was humorless.

He towered over you as you just looked at him in the eyes as he spoke these Earth-shattering words.

“I used to think you were the best thing to ever happen to me but, God, you’re the worst headache ever. You’re the human embodiment of an aneurysm.”

His words had a whimper leave your throat. You’ve tried your entire life to not be a burden and here Steve is laying it all out for you, that even though you tried, it wasn’t good enough. E for effort.

“I don't even do anything,” you tried to defend yourself.

“Oh really? Because calling me in groups of ten when I’m away is doing nothing? Because asking to put you first over any night with the team is nothing? You’re not the center of my life, Y/N. I have more important things to worry about than your episodes of feeling alone,”

“They’re not episodes and you know that,”

“Well excuse me for not using the politically correct term, your highness. It’s all in your head, Y/N,” he tapped his temple as he got in your face.

“Well no shit, Steve!,” you stood in his face but your stature was no comparison to his, “Where the fuck else would it be? my pancreas? Or maybe in my damn rectal cavity. I get that it’s in my head. I have to live with it all day, everyday. not you,”

“We live together so technically I do,” He rolled his eyes and turned away from you to stalk toward the bathroom.

“You’re never even here anymore,” you blurt out.

“Because you’re so mentally exhausting that I felt my own mental stability deteriorating,”

You had no words to say, He’d gotten too comfortable with talking down on you. You wiped your tears and got in bed. There was no rebuttal from you. He won.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Being with Steve taught you one of the biggest lessons you’ll learn in life. The whole experience was a bless in a way.

He taught you patience. You had to be patient with him and his melt downs. You had to be patient with yourself as you tried to put yourself back together and build your walls back up. Patient to understand love doesn’t come easy.

Steve only wanted you for the sensation of having you.

He was away and you cried as you packed your bags into the car. This would be the last night you cried over him. You’ve spent too many nights crying over him, spent too many nights with him messing with your mind but no more.

Once everything was packed, you sat on his side of the bed writing him words you weren’t able to say to his face. You were relieved he wasn’t here because had he been, you probably wouldn’t have gotten the guts to leave.

You signed the note with x’s and o’s before setting the paper down by his lamp and walking out the bedroom door and turning the lights off. You’d miss this place, more than anyone will ever know.

You had your first movie date here, Your first breakfast in bed. Your first time. Your first “I love you’s” and... your last. 

You left the key on the key ring by the door and took one last look at the tidy, comfy apartment that you called home. But you realized this wasn’t a home. A home wouldn’t house people to hurt you the way Steve did. It was just a place to lay your head and make your bed.

You sniffled as you locked the door from the inside and rushed to your car. You found a place weeks ago and that’s where you’re headed. 

Maybe this could be home. Where your heart could be set in stone, a place where you can rest your bones and be alone without fear of your personalized dread coming through the bedroom door.

 Being on your own would take some getting used to but you took pride in finally having your own thoughts, that you created, thoughts that weren’t force fed to you. You took pride in mumbling the simple words of  “I can do this. I can do this. I can make it by myself.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve walked in late that night. The clock read a quarter two. The apartment was quiet. Too quiet, he wasn’t used to it.

He didn’t the TV in your shared bedroom. You always had it on when he was gone to simulate the feeling of having someone there so you didn’t feel completely alone, to drive away your thoughts.

He didn’t see the nightlight in the kitchen. He looked around and saw how tidy the apartment was. Too tidy.

He went into the bedroom to see the room dark and when he switched the light on his stomach dropped.

Your clothes hamper wasn’t there, your shoes weren’t haphazardly lined up by the closet. Your perfumes weren’t sitting on his dresser. Your night stand didn’t house you guys’ picture from your favorite date. 

That picture was on his night stand, faced down on a piece of paper.

He inched toward it as if it’d jump out and attack him. Little did he know it would, just not physically. He sat on the edge of his bed and flipped the picture up to see you were cut out of it and it just left him smiling down at nothing.

He saw your neat handwriting scribbled across the paper in a warning red and his chest felt tight. He picked it up and wanted to just throw it away. but he had to read it. He had to know what this was. 

Dear Steve, he read, He saw the dried droplets of your tears on the paper and cursed to himself.

Dear Steve,

               You know I loved you. Hell, you know I love you. But whatever is happening right now is not love. I don’t know what you’re going through, or what you’ve been through in the past for you to treat me like this but here’s something you need to live by-

             Pretending you don’t have a heart isn’t going to protect yours.-

        My love for you was insurmountable, I loved you when I didn’t love myself. You would always say you loved me but I’ve come to see you only love yourself. I loved you with all of me and didn’t save any of that for me.You played with my heart and my mind and I don’t know how I survived as long as I did. I remember feeling like I wasn’t good enough, you had me questioning myself, I wasn’t sure enough.

       You always put me in a bad place and that’s not love, Steve. It’s mental warfare. I spent too much time blaming myself and tearing myself down because I believed your words and would reiterate them thinking it would make me change... make me better for you so I could make you happy. 

        But I can’t make you happy. All in all this experience was a blessing. I now know how to guard myself walking into what I think might be love next time.

      I’m not quite sure which is worse- How many times you broke me or how many times I let you. But I can’t kill myself trying to stay in your life. I used to think of you as somebody that would never, ever hurt me.

        I don’t know if moving on will make it better, but there’s no harm in trying, no matter how hard it is, how long it’s going to take or how bad it’s going to hurt. 

       Almost every night for the past few months I’d sit on the edge of this very bed with my heart in my hands, as you’d yell right in my face, stained with the blood that ran through my veins for you. Feeling my heart beat for you. Yet each time you’d take it from my grasp and step on it creating the worst chest tightening feeling I’ve ever felt. It’s time to remove your foot, Steve. It’s time to mold the marks of your footprints away, put my heart back in my chest and have it beat for me. It’s time to take my heart and keep it for myself.

      You were the love of my life, Steve. I guess I just thought I was yours too.

   I gave my all to you, my love was real. 

                                              But you didn’t love me

       -Y/N xo,”

Steve sat on the bed just staring at the letter. He crumbled it up before throwing it at the wall before yelling a loud “Fuck” and knocking the lamp over in the process.

He sat on the bed and felt his face heat up.

How did he allow himself to ruin something that was good for him? Something that was healthy, that he later turned toxic?

Why did he let his stressors and insecurities get the best of him so bad that he broke his best girl?

That phrase “You don’t know what you have ‘til it’s gone” is bullshit, he thought.

Steve knew what he had... he just didn’t think he’d lose it.

~~~~~~~~

*Four Months Later*

It was hard. Getting used to not having someone. Coming home to an empty house. Yet you were able to stay strong and move forward. For the first time in your life you didn’t feel guilty for putting yourself first and taking care of yourself.

You were rolling on your roller skates, doing your last round of cleaning the café before taking your break and sitting down at the diner bar. You had your co-worker cut you a piece of your favorite pie, it was seasonal and you had to have a slice before too many people found out you guys had it in.

“You guys make an exceptional pie,” a man sat down beside you and smiled.

You were in the middle of stuffing your face, he chuckled at you as you felt your face heat up and eyes widen in embarrassment.

You turn to look and see an attractive man smiling over at you. His trimmed beard was immaculate, so clean and sharp. His hair, splashes of grey against the dark brown. His eyes, so green, so vibrant, reminded you of the Northern lights.

“It’s okay, I’ll let you finish so you don’t choke,” He laughed lightly.

You swallowed your pie while drinking down a gulp of almond milk.

“Credits to the head chef. He only bakes it during the autumn season. It’s a hot commodity. It’s his specialty,” you smiled at him as he had his own piece of that pie.

“And the cute waitress sitting beside me. What’s her specialty?,”

You giggled at his compliment. It was good to hear a compliment from a man who didn’t creep you out. 

“I do this rare thing that’s unheard of around these parts of New York,” you whisper.

“Oh yeah? and what’s that?,” he leaned in and whispered right back, entertaining your game of secrecy.

“I heard only the well raised ones know what it is. But I clean up after people who are too much of simpleton slobs to do it themselves,” you snorted and he shook his head at you before laughing along at your slightly terrible joke.

“Well I certainly won’t be adding to your list of simpleton slobs,” he smirked at you and took another bite of his pie.

“What list will you be adding to then,?” you took another sip from your cup and eyed him over the rim.

“Hopefully the list that makes the cut of being able to take you out,“

His boldness made droplets of your milk slip out of your mouth as you damn near choked.

“Me?!,” you looked around and eyed the diner, seeing if maybe he was possibly talking to someone else.

“Yes, you, Miss? Miss right? No, Mrs?,”

You giggled at his uncertainty.

“Y/N. And yes, Miss. No Mrs. Not even close. And who might you be, mister mysterious?,”

He turned to you fully in his chair before extending his hand.

“Strange. Dr. Stephen Strange and I would like to take you, Miss Y/N, out on a date.”

*The End*

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If you guys would like a part two with Doctor Strange then let me know!

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Storyline inspired by the song Myself by Layton Greene.

Tags- @sideeffectsofyou @chonisberonica @coonflix @cliffordasparagus​ @disaster-rose