#i shouldn't despise myself because this is just part of what it is to be human i guess. you'll mess up and make selfish choices. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dameronscopilot · 2 years

Note

I was just about to beg you for any more Cassian crumbs because I love what you've written for him so far (as well as your writing in general but I'm in a Cassian phase right now 😅) but then I saw that you're taking Kinktober requests and I wanted to ask if you could do Cassian with the lingerie prompt and "I shouldn't allow myself to get this close to you".

If not that's totally fine as well, I'll be looking forward to what you'll write no matter what, but as I said I'd literally take any Cassian crumbs from you ❣

(Thank you so much anon! This ones for you 🧡 Happy almost Cassian Wednesday!)

Off Limits

Cassian Andor x f!reader

Summary: When Cassian Andor goes undercover for the Rebellion and ends up assigned to guard the daughter of an Imperial general, he soon realizes he's bitten off far more than he can chew.

Word Count: 2.2k

Rating: 18+ EXPLICIT

Content: NSFW, smut, masturbation, fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, rough sex, dirty talk, lingerie

MASTERLIST || MORE KINKTOBER || PART 2 - CROSSING LINES

In retrospect, perhaps Cassian should have anticipated that after his last several missions for the Alliance went off without a hitch, he was due for a royal fuck up eventually. But this mission was supposed to be simple, easy, in and out. He was meant to go undercover on a minor desert planet currently under Imperial occupation; all he needed to do was pose as a soldier and glean whatever information that he could from the unit stationed there.

However, things quickly went sideways when, three days in, he found himself singled out and selected to be the personal guard for the daughter of the commanding general. While the quarters the general and his family were staying in were guarded day and night regardless, an uptick in Rebel activity on a nearby planet had left the Empire poised and ready for attack at any moment. Cassian had quietly snorted at the accusation, well aware that nobody in the Alliance was moving in on their location just yet. Besides him.

The change in assignment made Cassian’s plans to clear out in a week’s time nearly impossible, as there was a far greater chance that he’d be seen trying to slip away. And thus as the weeks slipped past, Cassian made the best of it by taking full advantage of his post. In reality, this unexpected turn of events was a blessing to the Rebellion, given the amount of Imperial secrets he was able to eavesdrop on from directly under the general’s roof.

The real issue was you, the general’s daughter. The general’s adult daughter who clearly despised the Empire and all that her father stood for. His daughter that should have been off living her own life by now, pursuing a career and perhaps raising a family, but instead was caught within the clutches of her father’s iron grip. He was convinced that his status put a direct target on your back for the Rebels, and thus he insisted on keeping you close.

The issue was that you were beautiful, far too beautiful for Cassian to ignore when he spent most hours of the day with your figure somewhere within his line of sight. And while perhaps he could have gotten through the rest of the mission with nothing more than his own hand for relief in the dark privacy of the meager cot he slept on, his self control began to deteriorate at an alarming rate once you began to notice him, too.

It started off small, things like a brush of your hand over his shoulder when you walked past him. You slowly began to engage him in conversation, citing that you couldn’t bear for him to look as dreadfully bored as he did just standing at attention day in and day out. And as your comfort with him grew, you took to playful gestures, like hip checking him on occasion or reaching out to ruffle his hair. But Cassian’s losing battle took a surefire nosedive the day that you shot him a mischievous look before asking him about what kind of a sex life he had as an Imperial soldier. Clearly unconcerned that he’d report back to your father, you went so far as to admit to him that you sometimes made a habit of sneaking off to a cantina to find a willing partner when your father’s unit was stationed planet-side.

Blatant sexual tension be damned, perhaps Cassian would have been able to keep his restraint in check…if it weren’t for the fateful evening you’d decided you were sneaking out.

—-

After weeks spent on the receiving end of the steady gaze of the handsome soldier, you were entirely at your wits end in sexual frustration. Far too many nights already, you’d had to resort to shoving a cloth in your mouth to hush your moans as you lay in bed, legs spread wide under your silken sheets as you slipped a finger through your folds. Folds that were often soaking wet with arousal by the time night fell after spending all day imagining the way the stubble on the guard’s chin would scratch against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs as he licked his way into your cunt. Sometimes, you liked to imagine him walking into your quarters to check on you in the middle of the night while you were finger fucking yourself, a thought that sent you over the edge of a gushing, knee trembling orgasm.

So needless to say, you were in dire need of company to distract yourself.

Turning sideways in the mirror, your eyes raked over the undergarments that you’d discreetly purchased on the last planet that your family had been stationed on. While you’d never worn, much less seen, anything like them before, the shopkeeper had insisted that every woman should own a pair. You ran a hand over your backside, which was on clear display with nothing more than a thin strip of fabric running between your cheeks. The bottoms rode high on your waist, accentuating your hips as they dipped toward the sheer fabric that covered your core. Straps connected them to the top portion, which—while it remained firmly in place—let your breasts almost generously spill out as your nipples were on clear display through the lace.

Distracted by marveling at the outfit, you didn’t hear the two brief knocks at your door that signified your guard was coming in. He entered in a rush, and because you were standing no more than a few places from the doorway, he ran directly into you.

As you began to topple sideways, his hands automatically shot out to steady you, and you clocked the exact moment that he realized what you were wearing. Once you were righted, he quickly pulled his hands away from you, throat bobbing as he forcefully directed his attention to a far off point on the other side of the room.

While you could have quickly reached for the robe hanging up nearby and simply swept the whole matter under the rug, you stood there for another beat instead, helpless to stop the next words that fell from your lips.

Teasingly, you asked, “What, do I look that terrible?”

He sputtered, coughing for a moment, an incredulous look briefly passing over his face before he schooled his features back to neutrality. “Not at all.”

Fueled by some unseen source of courage, perhaps the confidence boost you felt as you took another peek at yourself in the mirror out of the corner of your eye, you challenged, “Then why won’t you look at me?”

He didn’t respond, instead choosing to look down at the floor, inspecting his shoes. But the slight tick of his jaw and the subtle way he clenched his fist told you everything you needed to know. You took three steps forward, closing the distance between the two of you, and reached out to gently cup his chin, making him look at you.

There was undeniable heat in his gaze as he looked into your eyes, and his voice was noticeably rough as he said, “I shouldn’t allow myself to get this close to you.”

“I’d rather it be you than a random stranger,” you replied simply.

You reached down, placing his hand on your breast, and he carefully ran a thumb over your peaked nipple.

“I think about this every night,” you told him.

He nodded, bringing his other hand up as he began to massage both of your breasts. “I know, I’ve heard you pleasuring yourself.”

Though you burned with embarrassment, you didn’t shy away from his touch as you asked, “What have you heard?”

Dipping his hands inside of the bra to scoop up your tits and lift them out of the fabric, he chuckled. “The wet squelching of your pretty little cunt as you shove your fingers in there. The way your bed creaks as you’re plunging into yourself. The muffled little cries you try to hide when you finish.”

As the words left his mouth, you clenched your legs together, feeling the arousal that had begun to drip from your entrance.

“So you like to just stand there and listen to me?”

Shaking his head, he leaned down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth to suck on it. After releasing it, he replied, “No, I like to wrap my hands around my cock and imagine my fist is your tight little cunt.”

A jolt of pleasure shot down your spine, and you licked your lips.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He continued.

You nodded. “Please.”

“Tell me what you want,” he drawled, running a hand up the side of your neck.

“I want you to fuck me,” you breathed out, and he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a bruising kiss.

Slowly, you began to walk backward as he licked his way into your mouth, pulling him with you until the backs of your knees hit the edge of your bed. You scooted onto the mattress, grabbing the guard by the collar and pulling him on top of you.

–

Cassian’s mouth went dry as he propped himself up above you on the bed, staring down at your nearly naked body, each and every curve and dip on display for his hungry eyes. While there were a thousand reasons for him to turn around and walk out that door, he couldn’t be bothered to care as you took two of his fingers into your mouth and began to suck on them. The fucking Rebellion could wait.

His breath hitched as you bobbed your head, swirling your tongue around the digits and sucking them with fervor. Reaching down, he adjusted his throbbing cock, which was straining in a battle with the confines of his pants. You took notice and propped your leg up, placing your knee directly in between his legs. Cassian nearly choked as you firmly pressed against his length, bucking his hips in response and grinding downward.

–

Though he remained in his uniform, the guard slipped his curved, leaking shaft free, and you rolled over onto your stomach, presenting your backside to him. An appreciative sound left his mouth as he palmed the curves of your ass and ran one finger down the flimsy piece of fabric that disappeared between your cheeks.

You keened when he pulled your hips upward slightly, pitching your ass into the air as your face remained pressed into the pillow. Gently, he hooked a finger in the piece of fabric and pulled it aside to reveal your slit. A finger prodded at your entrance, and you immediately thrust your hips backward, pushing it inside of you.

“Eager,” he commented, amused.

You moaned as he began to slowly pump in and out, his finger sliding easily through your soaking wet channel. As he inserted another, you shifted backward again, attempting to fuck yourself on his fingers.

He brought a hand up to rest on your lower back. “Easy, princess. Be patient.”

The moment you felt the head of his length press against your hot core, you whined, and he slowly began to sink into you. One of his hands still kept the fabric of your bottoms pulled to the side, and the tug of the material where it now felt tight at your hips heightened the pleasure that was coiling in your gut.

Once he bottomed out deep inside of your cunt, he slowly began to drag his cock back out of you, setting a steady rhythm. But you wanted more.

“Harder.”

You didn’t need to tell him twice. Without warning, his hips snapped against yours, balls slapping against your ass as he began to roughly pound your pussy. He gripped the back of your neck with one hand, pushing you down harder against the mattress as his cock massaged your slick inner walls, the sound of smacking flesh echoing throughout the room.

The heat licking its way up your abdomen grew scorching hot as his thrusts began to grow sloppy and desperate. When he snaked one hand around your front to rub circles on your clit, you cried out into the pillow, your cunt clenching down and gushing on his shaft as your climax crested.

He continued to ravage your hole, hips stuttering as his own orgasm approached, and you turned your head to the side as you said, “Cum inside of me.”

A strangled moan left his lips as he panted out, “What would the general think if he knew I was stuffing his precious daughter full of cum?”

“Fill me so deep that it’s leaking out of me for days.”

His hands gripped your hips tightly as he groaned, burying himself in you to the hilt, and you felt it as thick, hot spurts of cum pulsed out of his cock, filling your cunt to the brim.

—

After Cassian pulled his spent shaft from you, momentarily pressing two fingers to your entrance in an attempt to stop the flood of cum that was about to gush out, both of you eventually collapsed side by side on the bed.

You gazed into his eyes, and after a few beats of silence passed, you smirked at him as you said, “Now tell me who you really are.”

Read Part 2 - CROSSING LINES

—

Comments, reblogs, and/or asks are always appreciated!

» CASSIAN ANDOR MASTERLIST

#dameronscopilot kinktober #kinktober #cassian andor #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor smut #diego luna fanfiction #rogue one #star wars #star wars fanfiction #andor #andor fanfiction

454 notes · View notes

2dboisloyal-devotee · 1 year

Text

Trying to distract myself my hand at this stuff first time, and want to see how it goes.

I'm so guilty of doing this exactly even tho i love them because uh um to guilt trip myself? yeah.

Warning: yandere?? obsession, jealousy, all around depressed traveler time hahah

Long Abandoned

The traveler may be the hero(/ine) of Tevyat, but there's just no value if they're not your main character anymore...

They hate feeling helpless like this. The envy could only gnaw at their core deeper as they merely watch how you switch between characters, having the others to stand on a high pedestal of your best team.

There's few who share their feelings, but even the others, have more turns than them to be picked in the judgement of your hand.

“It should've been me.”

At first, it was such a great honor and responsibility that fell upon their small shoulders to bear your presence through them, as the unraveller of the stories and dialogues, as the one who does fishing with you, as the one who take actions in cutscenes... Many others even get jealous yet amazed at them at the same time.

But now, they are all mere dull chances, further pointing out their inability. They ache for you to use them in battle, for your hand choose them yourself. Not to only be shrouded by your eyes feasting upon their prowess but to feel the high and compassion they once got from being controlled around. Like the first time... When it was only between them, and you.

They're only your puppet on a string, but that's exactly why and they felt the most alive to be moved by you...

The traveler does time to time take notes of the characters you usually use, is it from their designs, behavioral patterns, or their stories that intrigue you so much?

They have all of that! They're not just plain cardboard characters They have depth too, for goodness sake they're literally your first five-star character! Don't they matter to you? ...they should be, but it's the fact that you see them as if they aren't worthy of your attention/respect to be used ever again—it's undeniable and simply says everything about them.

They know they shouldn't be despising those others who are so lucky (they can feel the others looking with pity and mock), it's your only rightful choice after all... They try to focus more on the shameful part of their feelings and wallowing in self pity, it helps them cope with the reality sometimes.

They know the others stuck out like a sore thumb yet colorful cast to you, compared to them...

If you're the one who doesn't have any intention of using them ever again simply because they're not to your interest, well... what can they do? As much as they want to rebel, they are pretty much powerless against the program.

(They still look out for any of the slightest chances and slip-ups of the code, they use anything they find to their advantage.)

If you're the one who had fun using them, who still like them even to this moment but for some reason won't use them, well... at least they still have a place to belong in your heart and mind, somewhere...

Ah, but trust them! They still always do their utmost best and give it their all (as much as they could in looking like that anyway) on simply being viewpoints through the lens of you for a minute or so at the dialogues.

Even if they may pass as an afterthought or a second choice, that's okay, it's maybe just their time coming at a later but fitting moment.

They won't stop having hope (and resorting to drastic measures) for those good times to return. Nothing they wouldn't do if it's for your blessings... after all, they're vital for those 'archon quests' to progress the story aren't they?

#sagau cult au #yandere sagau #genshin sagau #narawritechances #genshin traveler #sagau lumine #sagau aether

99 notes · View notes

axailslink · 1 year

Text

I Felt Filthy

Riri Williams x poc FEM reader

Summary: you're a church going woman you were raised this way and sex is looked down on until marriage. One thing leads to another with your girlfriend Riri and now you can't help but feel disgusted with yourself.

A/n: You can thank religious practices for this one being raised in a Christian household I had these thoughts after masterbation and I still do. Kind of sucks to be honest I immediately felt immense disgust within myself so this has to do with that... Hopefully I'm not the only one who has experienced this problem.

The soap just wasn't working enough for you it couldn't wash away your thoughts of tonight she kissed every inch of your body and you let her while God was watching. What would your mother say? She knew you had a different taste but there was no way she was going to let sex with that "different taste" fly. When you get out of the shower with your towel loosely wrapped around you you're shaky which causes Riri to jump at your attention "hey baby is it cold?" You look at Riri and shake your head but she can see there is something underlying "what's wrong?" "Why do I feel so disgusted? Why do I feel like what we did wasn't... Right? It didn't feel...not right." Riri is taken all the way off guard by such a question you watch as she hesitates on her answer "I think I should keep my opinions to myself I'm not exactly sure why but I'll do whatever I can to calm that feeling down." She gently grabs you in a hug but you push her away "stop touching me" she nods as she pulls away slowly "uhm do you know why you feel disgusted? Did I do something to disgust you?" You shake your head "no of course not it just felt amazing but I've always been told that I shouldn't feel good doing such things. I was told that by my parents by my church..."

Riri nods as it slowly starts to come together "you were raised in the church? Look we don't have to do anything anymore we didn't have to do that. You should not in any way feel disgusted because of what was done. I love you and you love me and it's completely fine to do what we did. Do not punish yourself because what you did felt good it's supposed to." You nod slowly and she gently moves the towel seeing your irritated skin she pulls you to the bed and grabs some lotion. "Has it always been this bad?" You shake your head "no I could kiss a girl maybe even get handsy. Sure I felt like I shouldn't have afterwards but I've never felt disgusted of myself I've never enjoyed something so much that I felt guilty... Riri you made me feel wonderful and cared for. Your fingers gently ran over my skin caressing every part of me. I just... I'm not used to being touched like that I opened up so willingly and everything we did felt filthy afterwards. I felt filthy because I experienced so much pleasure tonight." Riri gently hugs your back "I'm sorry." You nod slowly "I promise I don't feel disgusted because of you it's just how I was raised I was raised in the belief that looking at you the way I do is beyond forgivable kissing you the way I do is disgusting touching you the way I do it's not right not in my parents eyes." Riri always has to be the comedian she smiles and says "remind me to never meet your parents" you straight face and her smile slowly fades. "I'm sorry that was rude of me" you gently smile "no it was funny trust me let's not meet them ever."

Riri shakes her head "that's sadly not possible because when you marry me oh I'm meeting the parents and it doesn't matter if they don't like me or us together they're going to absolutely despise us why? Because I'm not shy of what I want I'll hold your hand, kiss you just to spite them, and may get a little frisky just to give them a bit of a heart attack." You laugh and slap her shoulder "don't say that they'd go crazy if they saw you stare at me too long." Riri smiles "you know you can talk to me about this? We can stop being intimate if it helps." You nod "I don't want to I like kissing you and...doing other things" Riri smiles at your little pause in words "yeah other things lik-" you cover her mouth with your hands and she laughs "you talk too much shh." Riri licks your hand causing you to pull your hand away and gently slap her chest with it "why are you licking me!?" She only laughs in return "I've told you about putting your hands near my mouth." You laugh and plant a soft kiss on her lips as you try to pull away she chases after your lips trying to draw you back in but you tap her chest and she smiles.

The thoughts of course bothered you all throughout the night you couldn't sleep right wondering if it was really okay to love someone so much that you'd be willing to give them your all in the nude. It doesn't matter though because Riri never leaves her face stays planted in your neck as she tucks her arm underneath yours keeping you pulled close.

A/n: once again I wrote this because of specific beliefs I was brought up in. So this does not apply to everyone but it does apply to me and maybe some other people.

196 notes · View notes

hyperactivewhore · 8 months

Note

I despise both Renesmee Cullen's and Hope Mikaelson's existences. Both characters are plot holes and shouldn't exist.

Renesmee Carlie Cullen is the daughter of Bella Swan and Edward Cullen. She's half-human and half-vampire, and in Twilight, it was explained that only male vampires can have children with female humans. But that doesn't make any sense because vampires in Twilight don't have any blood in their bodies. Then, Stephanie Meyer explained that the venom that is in their bodies works similarly to the bodily fluids that are in humans. But if that was the case, then Bella shouldn't have gotten pregnant. She should have become a vampire after having sex with Edward. Renesmee is called 'half mortal and half immortal' by Aro, but how can a person be half mortal and half immortal? She's either mortal or immortal. She can't be both. Does she age, or does she not? Can she live forever, or does she have the lifespan of a human?

Now, onto Hope.

Hope Andrea Mikaelson is the daughter of Klaus Mikaelson and Hayley Marshall-Kenner. She's a werewolf, vampire, witch tribrid. In the pilot episode of The Originals, it was explained that since Klaus was born a werewolf and became a vampire because of magic and not by drinking the blood of another vampire and dying with that vampire's blood in his system, he was able to conceive. Vampires in The Vampire Diaries are infertile and can not have children, and while Klaus is the world's first werewolf-vampire hybrid, he's still part vampire. He shouldn't have been able to have a child, which was confirmed in Legacies. The only reason Hope exists is because Malivore. So, if Malivore never existed, Hope would have never existed. She wasn't born because her father was created differently from traditional vampires, but because it is her destiny to defeat a mud monster.

Both characters are great (more so Hope because she was given her own show, and I grew to like her over Legacies' 4 season run. Renesmee was kinda there. Her CGI in the movies creeped me out, and she absolutely did nothing in the book), but their existence goes against the canons of their respective movies/books and show.

It's funny because both are created as plot devices to Bella and Klaus and they're meant to be the magical powerful baby of their universe, but their existence alone just makes it look ridiculous by breaking every single canon law.

As you said, Renaissance came out of nowhere. She was soo incredibly intelligent from the very first moment her parents made her, but apparently not smart enough to control her own strength seeing she broke several Bella's bones (like honestly, what the hell) and this demon spawn craved human blood for absolutely no logical reason other than Edward being a vampire. Ratatouille also could not be seen in the ultrasound or any other thing: she had a impenetrable amniotic sac because yes, exactly, her daddy is a vampire!

Honestly, I kinda feel bad for Ravioli. I've never finished reading Breaking Dawn (and I won't), it was such a corny book and I could only bring myself to the third part, where Bella spends time with baby Rasputin but I've heard interesting things to how the Cullen rise this sim. Apparently, Bella and Edward couldn't care less about their daughter, because as always they were more obssesed with each other and Rosalie did all the parenting, because the love birds couldn't be distracted with their CGI spawn. If I'm correct, Edward even called Bella more beautiful than Rim Job right in her face and instead of being mad, because their kid was right there, Isabella was just like "gosh edward, ily sm 😘😜😍"

Parents of the year.

Stephenie Meyer didn't care about Bella and Edward being parents: she just wanted the aesthetic that came with it, and she pulled the reasons of the human-vampire pregnancy out of her ass.

Actually, when I was in my twilight phase, I read a fanfic where Bella got pregnant, and the reason was a little more "coherent" than what Meyer gave: Having died so young, Edward's body "froze" his sperm and because he had remained a virgin for over a hundred years (lmao), he was able to get Bella, the first and only woman he slept with, pregnant. It's still shitty, and bad, but if they wanted them so badly to have a kid this was a better reason.

I just can't take Twilight books seriously. Apparently, there are no black vampires for a barely explained reason that is clearly racist (if I remember, the venom that vampires inject you during death just... removes your skin color), the mistreatment to the werewolves is just terrible, and there's Ratatunga too.

Now, moving to Hope Andrea Mikaelson, the white witch that is hated and loved in equal measures by the fandom. Oh my, this is gonna be interesting.

I have my moments with Hope, to be honest. Sometimes I completely adore her, and sometimes I just can't stand her. Her existence was completely pulled out of Pl*c's ass, who wanted to have her own version of Renameme so badly. Klaus shouldn't have even been able to procreate in the first place, because he was killed before Esther binded his werewolf side. Though vampires in tvd are more alive than dead, but that's a whole different thing. But clearly my point still remains.

I like Hope Mikaelson a lot more than Ragnarok Cullen, Summer Fontana/Danielle Russell and Mackenzie Foy are all really amazing and beautiful actresses who did great with the role they were given, but their characters completely broke canon. I like the tribrid more though because at least, she wasn't a fucking sim that aged five years in a week unlike Nestlé. The only way I could ever like Radioactive is by having her completely loathe her parents and family, especially because she was born in 2006 aka she's part of Gen Z.

Both characters shouldn't even exist in the first place, and Hope's existences is as much of a plothole as Riptide's. Renesmee gets more hate simply because of how she was in the womb and also because of how fast she grew, but they're both plotholes and shouldn't have been created no matter their popularity.

#I had so much fun with ravioli's nicknames 🤭#i still adore hope #but hmm #renesmee cullen #edward cullen #bella swan #bella cullen #rosalie hale #rosalie cullen #bella x edward #klaus mikaelson #hope mikaelson #twilight #the originals #the vampire diaries #tvd #to

37 notes · View notes

wingedshadowfan · 7 months

Text

some basic ya/fantasy/romance tropes that fourth wing took a spin on, imo (spoilers)

-weak and dainty female character trope - while violet is physically smaller, weaker and gets injured easily, we find it's due to a disability she was born with and there are two main ways she goes about this: she trains hard to become stronger, wherever that's possible, and also uses disability aid (because isn't that what Tairn's saddle is? the shorter daggers too, to some extent) which i think is so important and much better than her refusing that aid/never getting it in the first place, she takes no shit from characters who look at her like there's something wrong with her but she also knows her own body and its limitations

-the demsel in distress female character trope (similar to the one above) - because of her physical disadvantage and her lack of preparation for the riders quadrant, violet gets saved/protected by others in many situations and even gets accused of "hiding behind strong men", but as the book - and her training - goes on, she begins to stand her ground more and more, earning herself the nickname "violence" and making up for any physical shortcomings with intelligence, stubbornness and fervor, hard work, skill and good character (the reason why tairn and andarna both chose her, the former giving her a crazy op signet), so much so that she ends up single-handedly offing the guy who accused her of not being able to defend herself

-the enemies to lovers trope - unpopular take but violet and xaden were never truly enemies! despite it being marketed that way. at least not on xaden's part - his dad didn't kill brennan and he's known this (him responding with "hardly" when she said they were even when they first met at parapet), we don't know if he knows this but while lilith did "catch" his dad, she was against forcing the rebellion children to watch the executions too. so violet basically started off as a nuisance to him (she was never strong enough to be a problem - he thought the parapet would end her for him if need be), after watching her for a while - seeing the mismatched boots, her collecting berries, flinging the daggers, choosing to keep his secret, poisoning people, defying all odds - he even made sure the other marked ones wouldn't try to kill her either, which he easily could've just stood aside and let happen, because she became interesting to him, again through intelligence, skill and kindness, and the (mutual) interest and attraction developed into feelings; on her part it was a bit more difficult because she knew less and felt like everyone was out to get her, her most trusted people had warned her about him so she naturally kept thinking he hated her and wanted her dead - but other than him moving her squad to fourth wing on parapet day he'd made no moves indicating he wanted to harm her and had consistently been helping her instead; they never hated each other personally because they didn't know each other and when they really got to know each other, they just found respect and admiration for the other

-the good guy/bad guy/good girl love triangle (though it's usually more of an angle or a choice the girl needs to make) - in the very very beginning i was rooting for dain because i love childhood friends to lovers and i thought running from the riders quadrant could be a turn the plot takes for violet, i also personally didn't see myself finding a guy who wanted me dead all that sexy (even less considering his dad killed my brother), especially when he's apparently a cold blooded murderer, emotionally unavailable and generally quite threatening, but i am well aware there's a specific demographic who would eat the dark moody ripped bad guy up and leave the "boring" soft cute nice good guy childhood friend in the dust - that's a trope i despise and i'm so glad that here a) violet fully acknowledges, despite being physically attracted to xaden, that he's toxic and she shouldn't like him because he can't meet her emotional needs. and i don't remember characters from other books with this trope being so delightfully intelligent and self-aware (which is important because otherwise you're basically selling young girls the idea that this is okay and that unavailable, dangerous, messy men are hot and you can fix them - violet doesn't even try to fix him, she sets a firm boundary and forces him to fix himself and get his shit together if he wants her!) and b) it turns out xaden and dain's roles are actually reversed, with dain being much more toxic, manipulative, hypocritical and crossing boundaries he shouldn't be, while xaden is more supportive, attentive and caring, protective but not coddling, and while he's not ready to admit a lot of things to himself just yet, he's got some self awareness going for him too and he's sworn to do better (so rare in such books)

#fourth wing #rebecca yarros #xaden riorson #violet sorrengail #dain aetos #riorgail #iron flame #fantasy #romance #young adult #new adult #the empyrean

20 notes · View notes

tim-lucy · 1 year

Note

What do you despise about it?

Well, when it comes to The Rookie and how much I love both Tim and Lucy as characters, I really like to approach the situation from both of their points of view. It's fun for me to see if I can figure out the intent behind their actions as opposed to just feeling things and jumping to conclusions based on those feelings. I do that with many of my other shows hehehe because it's fun to just watch and scream and, at the end of the day, so much is just interpretation.

Buuuut as someone who likes to see both sides of things, I just, personally, find it hard when it comes to Lucy’s point of view here. To me, the angst only works when I can see good intentions on both sides. I don't think Lucy has bad intentions ever, but it’s hard to find the silver lining. She’s just so confident she can make this work because she’s such a bright and positive human being, and it seems as if it’s giving her a bit of tunnel vision.

I think she gets a buzz from undercover work, which I would imagine that many uc officers do. She's great at it, people tell her she's great at it, and she's felt the rush of a job well done. The excitement in her voice (kudos to Melissa's acting!!) when Tim asked if she needed to pull out and she was saying she was going to take the whole thing down from within...it just clearly gives her a thrill. When she said she would stop before it ever got to an unmanageable point I found that to be a bit questionable.

I was once doing something that was bound to get out of hand quickly, but I kept telling myself I'd stop before I ever let it get bad. I never recognized when I reached that point and then a very scary thing happened while I still thought I had everything under control. PLOT TWIST I did not LOL. Obviously, this is me self-inserting, but that's part of the reason why I'm personally so wary. If she's not willing to listen to Tim when he points out red flags, she's already in the thick of it.

On the other hand, I feel like it's unfair to Tim. If Lucy wants to do undercover then that's up to her. But I think she shouldn't be with Tim if that's the case. It's an extremely hard thing to put your partner through, not just in terms of worrying about you, but in terms of their own life. They always talk about their future kids, and by becoming a uc officer, she's essentially leaving him to be a single dad for six months to a year on and off. On top of that, what would that mean for his career? And the safety of their family, as they would all be obvious targets? It's literally the reason Harper had to leave her husband and daughter.

I also wasn't a huge fan of the way she seemed put off about his concerns at the end of the episode and acted like he simply couldn't separate her from Isabel. The lifestyle of a uc officer is the problem here, and she's a little bit too confident about her ability to avoid literally every negative thing that comes with being a uc.

I really don’t want to be unfair to Lucy because it’s clearly due to her limited experience. She needs to witness it for herself. That’s human nature.

But she waaaas worried about Tim's feelings up until he actually admitted, "Yes, I am scared of losing you." Then there seemed to be a bit of a shift of attitude. I expected her to react with compassion, but that's not at all the feelings I was getting. Perhaps that's just my interpretation 🤷‍♀️

Again, I really don't think she has bad intentions! However, I do think, on some level, Lucy is (unintentionally) taking advantage of the fact that Tim would never ask her to sacrifice something she loves. But healthy relationships are about sacrifice and finding a middle ground. Tim gave up positions he loved for Lucy twice without blinking. He even took a desk job just to be with her. Given the level of valid distress he's in (I really don't believe his past with Isabel is the problem, as more as it's made him aware that there will be a problem) it is painful that she’s not willing to do the same. At least, not yet. I’m sure she will once she has the experience everyone keeps warning her about.

If she does love this career so much that would choose it over being with Tim, then she needs to make that clear. My issue is with her trying to have both. Lucy is just such a compassionate person especially when it comes to Tim and his feelings, so it's difficult to watch 😞

ANYWAY!! There's my essay on why I personally don't love this plot line and the way the writers have chosen to go about it. Just my thoughts!! I will step off my soap box now and continue to make moving pictures in this era of canon chenford!! 🏃‍♀️

#ask #anonymous #chenford ask #the rookie spoilers #idk how to tag this 😭#i dont have any wank usually I SWEAR please no one hate me

31 notes · View notes

kitkatpadywaks · 1 year

Text

Life & Death

Part 6 of La Mechancete De La Vie.

Warnings: Life Finally Talks To Death. Dream Is Nearly An Entirely Silent Observer. Life Finally Says Why She Is The Way She Is. It Makes Death Realise Some Things, But It Doesn't Matter. Life Leaves Her With An Ominous Warning. Dream Confront Her About It. Life Gets A Bit Sappy Because Dream Sees Her.

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Life and Death finally talk! I've been impatiently waiting to write this chapter as I've had their conversation planned since the day I came up with this series. Hope you enjoy it!

Previous | Masterlist | Next

The two beings materialise in the mortal world under a willow tree, Dream stumbling slightly, staying upright only because of Life, whose way of travelling is quite different to his own.

"Shall I speak in this encounter, or would you prefer I remain a quiet observer?"

"You can if you want or should you feel the need to."

Dream nods, their intertwined hands swing between them as they walk through the poppy field, where Death waits in the middle, glaring at Life.

"Hello, Death." Life stops walking when she sees Death tense at her proximity, only relaxing when she sees Life won't be getting closer.

"Life." Death keeps her voice emotionless, "Why is my brother here?"

Life smiles at Death, making her more unnerved than she already is, "We need to talk, there are some things he needs to hear, and I rather not repeat myself- you know I despise to do so."

"What's there to talk about? You murdered people."

"Oh, everyone loves to bring that up." Life laughs, Dream squeezing her hand in warning, "I am incapable of ending someone's existence 'before their time'."

Death scoffs, "Even if that's true. Who are you to decide that?"

Life takes a deep breath, quelling her temper, "I am the only one with the knowledge, capability and power to decide that. I have always, always been the one to make those decisions."

"You still killed innocent people, Life!"

"Innocent!?" Life scoffs, "They were going to watch an actually innocent woman burn! Do you know how many they had already watched die!? How many more they'd watch!? And that's just the village people!"

Death flinches at the volume of Life's voice, her body tensing when she feels Life rein in a burst of power, but not before the poppies surrounding them double in height and size.

"Do you know how many people lived because those Witchhunters are dead? All the women and children that got to live."

"I can't deny humans can be horrible. But we don't interfere, ever. We let humans go about their lives as they see fit, even when it's hard to watch. You may be the only one with the power, but it shouldn't mean you decide."

"Then who should?" Dream interrupts, feeling awkward from watching the 'friends' fight.

Death stares at her brother in silence, making Life laugh.

"So much to say, and yet you have no answers." Life mocks, making Death glare at her.

"I only know it shouldn't be you."

"Don't be mad just cause you can no longer dictate my existence." Life snaps, clenching her jaw and staring into the distance to stop herself from losing her temper as a thought dawns on her, "It pisses me off it took me so long to realise; we were never friends. You didn't care about me- you only cared about controlling me."

"That's not true..." Death starts.

Life scoffs, knowing Death truly believes it- if only she could see what Life sees, "Do you know what my entire existence has been, why I exist?"

"Life, I don't..." Death shakes her head, exasperated.

"To be used, to fuel the visions of others. I didn't exist to have anything for myself. I don't have a realm. I don't have my own creations. I'm not allowed, friends or love." Life's voice cracks. "I can't have anything. Because what? It shows favouritism. We can't have anyone's realm or existence thrive more than others. Like I can't control my own power!? Do you think me so incapable of controlling myself!? I have done nothing but control myself for as long as I have existed!"

"Life..." Death whispers, surprised at the tears falling down Life's face. She had never thought about it like that, but she supposed that was the point- she'd never thought about it.

Life inhales a shuddering breath, turning her head to look at the surrounding poppies to calm herself, to stop showing what she perceived as weakness, something she didn't want Death to see. "Who are you to decide what I can and can't have? Who are you to decide that I should be completely and utterly alone?"

Dream squeezes Life's hand and turns his head to stare his sister dead in the eye, waiting for her to say something.

"I'm sorry. I really am. But I don't believe it gives you the right to take lives as you have."

Dream can't help but look at his sister with disappointment, wanting more than anything for his favourite sibling to make up with the woman he loves. But he can see now- there is too much history, bad blood, and pain for that to happen.

"Your belief doesn't negate the truth." Life uses her free hand to wipe the tears from her face, her body aching from her emotions. "No one in existence can replace me, do the things I do- the way I do."

"We'll see."

Life rolls her eyes, squeezing Dream's hand to ground herself, "No, we won't. You know, I really wanted us to be friends. But I can see that's not possible. You will never understand me or my true purpose."

Death raises her eyebrow, feeling Life's powers swelling, and she snaps before she can even think, "What's your plan, Life?! You can't kill me, Destiny or The Kindly Ones. Everyone says you're going to get your revenge. But you can't touch us. You didn't even kill The Gods. And they're nothing to you."

"Oh. I have a plan." Life smirks at Death, purely to make her squirm on the spot when she sees the same look in her eye she had just before they locked her in her prison, "Janus will get what's coming to him, as will anyone else who tries to move against me. And as for you, Destiny and the Kindly Ones. Well, you'll have to wait and see."

Death frowns at Life and then at Dream, who watches Life with admiration and adoration she hasn't seen him feel for a long time. She tries to get Dream to look her in the eye to warn him and to ask him how he thinks a relationship with Life will end and what she'll do to him when it does.

Life tilts her head, "You think so little of me."

Death glares at Life, "Stay out of my head!"

"I wasn't in your head!" Life snaps before taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, "Your thoughts are just incredibly noisy; I'm surprised the whole world couldn't hear them."

Death rolls her eyes, "So what will you do? Huh? How will you get your revenge? What will you do to my brother when things end badly between you?"

Dream frowns at Death, not liking the implication that their relationship will inevitably end. He knows he hasn't always been the best at relationships, but that doesn't mean Dream can't eventually get it right like he wants to; with Life.

"If things end badly, I won't do anything..." Life ignores Death's disbelieving scoff, "I have and will never have any desire to harm Dream."

"How do you know that?" Death raises an eyebrow at her, "How do you know your feelings won't change?"

"I know everything, Death."

"You didn't know we were going to imprison you." Death can't help but dig at her, smirking.

"Yeah, well, that was more bad judgement in trusting you than a lapse in my power." Life smirks back at Death, "You won't ever have that advantage again- I can tell you that with certainty."

Death's smirk drops, and she looks away from Life, a sense of dread washing over her, "And your revenge?" She tries to stop her voice from shaking but fails, making Life amused.

"You're wrong- I can touch you. I can kill you if I want."

Dream looks at Life, alarmed, not expecting her to even think of crossing that line.

"But I won't. I won't do anything to you, Destiny or the Kindly Ones." She gives Dream a quick smile, "Except make you watch me spend the rest of my existence in happiness, free of you. And there will come a time, in the not-so-far future, when I will make you mad beyond imagination, but ultimately, you will thank me for it. Goodbye, Death. I truly hope you find peace in your existence."

Life tugs on Dream's hand, signalling she wants to leave. Dream nods at Death, following Life as she walks away from the confused Death.

They walk until they reach the willow tree they originally arrived under, and Life stops to look up at the tree as sunlight filters through the leaves, taking in a deep breath of fresh air.

I've missed this. Life thinks, closing her eyes.

"What did you mean?" Dream asks, the corner of his lips turning up when she hums in question, too busy enjoying the sun to speak, "When you said you would make her mad, but she would thank you?"

Life opens her eyes and looks at Dream, her spare hand lifting to move the strands of hair from his forehead. She smiles at him when he gently grabs it and presses his lips to the back of her hand. "You'll see."

"You won't tell me?" Dream pulls her close, startling her, his hands moving down to grip her waist.

"I can't. To tell you what happens, this close to this event happening would change things, and I can't see a way for me to intervene like I want to."

"It has to do with me, doesn't it?"

Life reluctantly nods, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "How'd you figure that out?" She says with a teasing grin on her face.

Dream smirks at her, "What else would make my sister mad but my involvement with you?"

Life wishes it was that simple, but she smiles nonetheless. "Fair enough." She pauses, her smile dropping, "I'm truly sorry I have to keep this from you- it's not something I ever want to do."

"I trust you."

Life tears up at that, not realising until that moment how much it would mean to her to be trusted by someone she cares about. "Why?"

Dream pauses, giving himself a moment to collect his thoughts, "When you showed me your powers, I didn't just see what you see. I felt your emotions, your desire to be left alone to do your job without interference, and how little you care for the feuds and trouble. I felt how you want to exist without being perceived so you can finally live without someone wanting to control you. I know all you want is some peace and quiet, so I know you wouldn't do something to anger people unless it's fundamentally important to you."

"I didn't know you could access..." Life shakes her head but continues when she sees Dream's confused look, "I've never let anyone see how my powers work- I didn't know you could see all of that. I didn't know it was possible."

"I thought you could see everything?" Dream can't help but tease her.

Life shrugs, "I've been trying not to access your string, realised it was pretty intrusive, and I don't want to violate your privacy."

"I appreciate that, but like I said- I trust you, so I don't mind you looking into my string."

"Thank you." Life smiles at him and runs her hand through his hair.

Dream leans forward, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before pulling back, "Back to The Dreaming?"

She hesitates, temporarily disconnecting from her consciousness to evaluate how much power she has stored away. Life reemerges to see Dream looking at her with concern, "For a little while. I have enough power now to give Janus what he deserves."

"Will you come back?"

"Yes. After I've talked to the Gods again."

"You mean threatened them."

Life smirks at Dream, shrugging innocently. "Same difference. Now, are we using my way of transportation or yours?"

"Mine. Definitely mine. I'm never travelling your way ever again." Dream pulls her closer.

Life laughs, thoroughly amused by his resolute tone, as sand surrounds the two beings, echoing across the nearby fields. The crops grow in size, and flowers of all kinds, extinct and not, sprout from the ground as the trees perk up, their broken branches healing from the damage of humans. The two beings disappear from the mortal realm, leaving it a little brighter- Life's happiness making the world so much more alive than it had been in centuries.

Thank you for reading.

#morpheus #morpheus x reader #morpheus x fem!reader #dream #dream x reader #dream of the endless #the sandman #the sandman netflix #morpheus sandman #sandman #sandman netflix #the sandman x fem!reader #the sandman x reader #sandman x reader #sandman x fem!reader #dream x fem!reader #lord morpheus #fanfic

50 notes · View notes

dailycass-cain · 8 months

Text

This week the GOTHAM WAR has begun. Is the basis for this "war" for Catwoman/Batman work? How does Cass fit into this? I'll give my thoughts on it...

So the basis of the event is Catwoman is training the "hired help" of Gotham. Instead of working for Scarface, the Riddler, or Two-Face. They're off doing their own things in robbing the rich. But already there's a problem with that...

Not just the easy answer. Court of Owls.

Sure, maybe a few of them use mooks. This very issue brings up Professor Pyg as using "hired" help, but it feels kind of wrong for Pyg to do this sort of thing.

When Dollotrons have been his modus operandi. Why need thugs when breaking folks into nothing is far cheaper?

What's to stop Pyg from doing that exactly again? Nothing really. So all Selina is replacing is Pyg from going to hired back to his old ways.

That's not good at all. That's kind of why Batman and the Bat-Family are needed.

That isn't bringing up the "biggest" bad himself, the Joker. There have been numerous stories of the Joker just by himself making Gotham a literal hell without any hired help.

The Joker at his scariest is when he's by himself. Even then he's causing all sorts of harm in Gotham.

Those are the "easy" examples.

What about the other villains who already have an operating gang say Punchline and the Royal Flush Gang? It feels like writers Chip Zdarsky and Trini Howard make Selina's case paper thin.

That's not to say Batman's side is any better, "My parents were rich line." Was not the intended dramatic moment the book had. More made me chuckle as it could've easily been photoshopped with, "MY PARENTS ARE DEAD!" instead.

Likewise, is Selina's retort. Literally, again there are so many examples of Bruce showing compassion to folks by using his fortune.

Just alone in Batgirl (#63), we had this scene. That's just one moment that easily popped in my head.

It just feels so wrong for the basis of this "war" to be so flimsy when there are better ways for it. Aka the bot that literally subjugated all of Gotham because Batman took "a life" (that turned out to be false).

There's so much to see Selina's side of things when Failsafe had domain over the city. We have barely seen the city or ANYONE react to that.

Like that alone is more a cause for SOMETHING than what we're getting initially here.

I digress I could go on and on poking the holes into the fight itself, but how does it relate to Cass? Well, already she should be against Selina's plan.

A life is a life.

No matter what Selina's way will take lives. So…

The fact this is all glossed over with her being silent. Just says it all for me that her part in this is already "planned".

I'll probably hate it.

I'll probably despise it.

I thought long and hard about what the best course of action during this event would be for me. I really do love the artists attached to this event. I do love Cass. However, I do not like the context of the event AT ALL.

The answer is kind of right in front of me. Well, three answers. Birds of Prey (out next week), Spirit World, and Detective Comics. I adore two of these and by all things considered with the preview, I'm gonna probably LOVE BoP.

So instead of going into long rants and give myself stress I shouldn't need. I'm just gonna enjoy the good art.

If there are bad moments (which I'm sure there will be) in this event. I'm gonna call it like I see it.

But as for going into detailed thoughts like this? That's it. This is all this event is getting out of me. I have too much enjoyment else to give my focus too.

I just feel sorry for the fans of Duke, Tim, Stephanie, and Barbara. Those fans gotta suffer thru this as Damian, Cass, Kate, Luke, and Dick get to play outside this "sandbox" of woe.

This comic was garbage. This story is garbage. It's just best for me to look away for the most part and enjoy the stuff with Cass that I do have outside "the war".

That's my thoughts on it all. 😁

Now to enjoy a BETTER COMIC next week.

#cassandra cain #dc comics #my thoughts

14 notes · View notes

flowers-of-io · 1 year

Text

The server is sharing so many good thoughts and I'm fighting off sleep at 4 am & not emotionally ready to unravel all that, but it made me look at the Traveler's actions from an angle I've realised I wasn't giving it the grace of, and yet (or maybe because) that is very intimately known to me. (Putting aside whether it has responsibility for the species it had chosen or not, and would it have been better if it had never arrived, etc--it's a whole 'nother post I shall make on some different sleepless night.)

I think we often don't give it the grace of being a person--frankly what this season has been all about--with all the complexity that comes along with it. Its choices are often framed as determined by pure calculation (again--Rasputin talked about that wrt himself!!!), and they're interpreted and judged only as such. The Traveler left because it didn't care about us, gave Light to the Hive because they're its besties now, went to Savathûn's throne world because it figured she'd do a better job keeping it safe than humanity. All cold necessity and calculation.

And I think it's so much more messy than that! The Gardener, who knocked the universe askew and hurt her only friend because she was bored and wanted to create new things. Her blessing that is given recklessly, with but one requirement of sacrifice, and other than that it's free for all regardless of who they are or used to be or are about to become. That first part of the Speakers' creed that talks about it being an independent, complex entity with its own personhood. A person who feels love, and hope, and protectiveness, and delight, and sorrow, and pain, and fear.

Maybe I was so shattered when I saw it leave because I hate to see characters mirror the parts of me I despise. I want to look at the Traveler as a benevolent god who does no wrong and always has a plan and does stuff for a reason, even if we can't see this reason just yet. I want to see it as unflinching and brave and infallibly good! I want to point to it and shout, look, you shouldn't have doubted, look how it has been right all along. I want to stuff it with all my Christian feelings. This is who it is in Book! A divine providence of sorts; a presence always there; always trustworthy, and infallible, and right in the end.

But Destiny is not a story about gods vs. people, but about different levels of the cosmic power hierarchy turning out to be really all about the same things. The pattern is the same, the pain is the same; be it the gods of the Hive or civilians in the City. Eramis' ire and vengeance for Riis mirroring the Hive's millennia-long chase to punish the Traveler for the syzygy, and Lakshmi's hate towards Eliksni for the razing of London. As @lizzieraindrops said -- in the end, it is a story about the broken relationship between the Gardener and Winnower. What the Witness says to Eramis, "make it know your pain" -- I like to think it is really talking about its own pain here. There are no gods here in the full meaning of the world, and no one is omniscient and perfect. The whole point of Rasputin's arc was his progression from a machine-god to a person!

And accepting this requires of me to accept that the Traveler makes mistakes--not only the cool, narratively pleasing fuck-ups I can make cool song edits about like the ending of TWQ, but also the mistakes that disturb and repulse me. I think about that bit in Constellations again, the Traveler battling with itself because it doesn't want to leave but is also so terrified its instinct is to run and not look back. It's bloodcurdling, because I so desperately want it to be brave! To stay even when the fear is overwhelming! It terrifies and repulses me, what fear can make you do. I don't want it to act on this panic, and I'm disturbed when it does, because I don't want myself to act on my own panic. The "run, run, RUN RUN" bit hits me so hard because it is so deeply, intimately known to me. Fear makes you lose yourself. You're stripped down of everything, reduced only to this blaring alarm in your head that tells you to GET OUT, NOW.

There have been many good thoughts shared on the Traveler possibly choosing to stay because it saw the light and love in us, it looked to us and saw that hope--again, something about there being no gods but only different levels of cosmic power structure--and it's beautiful and reassuring, and I love this. It gives me hope. But it's softening the blow I really need to take, I think.

I think I need to untangle why my instinct was to interpret it as betrayal and abandonment and a moral failure, when I saw the Traveler potentially act on its fear. Why do I hold it up to a standard of bravery, if I'm so often decimated and defeated my my own fears? Why do I expect it to always Be Brave without hesitation, if I am all hesitation, and every step forward comes with half a step back? And I am just a girl with an anxiety disorder, and not like... being in an actively life-threatening situation, where your trauma of near death and immense pain is threatening to repeat itself. I think I was distraught the most because some part of me knows that I would try to run too. If the fear it felt was anything close to what the worst of my anxiety is like? Yeah. I would try to run too.

#season of the seraph spoilers #traveler #personal #mental health #quite a collection of tags ngl

31 notes · View notes

ribcassette · 2 months

Text

Notes to Jade,

( February 2024 ) — 00.07

(1) Since when did your name lose all of its tenderness? That, I cannot remember. It seemed that the mere utterance of your name became an offense to be hoarded at the back of my throat, forming a lump to habituate myself in. I tirelessly gather the residues of your influence, remaining steadfast to what tacit devotion that has made it into.

(2) Your eyes are a heap of resentment, and you gaze intently thinking I would fall short in notice. That's the part of the scheme—to produce loathsomeness, breeding hatred layer by layer because the intensity of its outcome has always been our definition of intimacy. That it felt less of a love if it doesn't inflict such pain, that we were never content unless we bleed in the process. You must've despised me down to the core when I started acting indifferent to this configuration and chose to reach out my hand in unfamiliarity. And the thing is, you loathe the things beyond your anticipation.

(3) A mere artistic loss, as I may often call it. But writing became an enterprise that produces not an ounce of collected creativity—but rather a product of outward cowardice wrapped in fancy words. I no longer dwell in such artistic expressions, what I do is to confess the regret for what it is. I am no good man nor a wise head everyone ought for me to be, I just learned the language of deception and twist measureless sentiments in my own accord. You may find comfort in the presence I emit, but once I'm out of sight—you'll know what kind of repercussions I just created that shouldn't matter, but have mattered still.

(4) We are cut in the same cloth, this is but a series of sequential returns after sequential departures. Tell me, my darling—if the next step was meant for me to take this time. Tell me you would be there by the time the bottle's pointe spins in my direction. Even though your words would only be superficial, I'll melt them in my mouth like sour candies in striking wrappers. Tell me, my darling—that this won't be our final end. Tell me there's more to it, that you want me back and we will return to the starting line.

(5) Fear of the growing fear itself, the frantic horror and the purest form of karma. Three things carved in a piece of paper but written in a single name. A circulating discomfort by the fingertips, touching every skin only for them to feel like yours. Paranoia—an endless chant. My tongue lays flat around your teeth, and tastes the bitterness off of your mouth. I am afraid you taste so different now, but I couldn't say it out loud. That's the fear, I feel the horror. The karma of watching you melting to someone else.

(6) You are my do or die, either my first victory or my final resting place. The latter have happened, far more than the former coming to life. You once told me that you felt like a child growing your teeth again, the first pain of the wound and the last one you have been devoted to—just as much as I am. But we were both children at the same time, hence, I crawl with words and uncertain actions to take. You follow my lead, but neither did I know I was going to lead us astray, leading us to the dead end. I am but a naive child with so much to say. We never grew again, but we did grow apart. A partial blame falls on my shoulders, I could've known better.

(7) Running further could only leave more footsteps of consequences, yet, we made this the very solution from each other's grip. But the more our feet inches far from the line, the more it yearns to turn and run back—hence, the cycle begins in our first attempt to put some distance in between.

3 notes · View notes

thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 1 year

Note

a question for you (and Vin, if theyd like to answer this as well. i wasnt sure which blog to send this to, since you both co write a lot of stories.) ive been in a certain fandom for many years. ive made fanarts, done oneshots, but recently, ive been wanting to do multi chapter stories. half because i like to torture myself, and half because i fell in love with the stories you two write (my fav being Leech in the Rain/Bleach on the Brain, just because of how every chapter guts me like a fish). my question being: how do you accurately portray media characters, and how do you even make story plots? one fear that i have while writing is making characters flat, only giving them basic characteristics that would just boil them down. i dont want them to be obnoxious in personality, but i also want to convey the personality shown in their og media. another, more of a blank than a fear, is not knowing how to make a plot in the first place. do you use an outline for your stories/chapters? how do you even create conflict? very sorry if this isnt the usual type of ask you receive on your blog. as ive stated before, i take a lot of inspiration in yours and Vins stories (and i have no one better to ask). i greatly appreciate whatever advice you two can give.

Well, I'm very flattered, thank you.

General Advice

Most of my writing advice is stashed in this post.

This one, specifically, written by @therealvinelle addresses most of the questions you have here.

My main advice though, and I think what your blocker is based on what you're saying, is to stop thinking about what can go wrong.

You always have to start somewhere and with something, if you follow the linked post and plot out what your story should look like/what you want to do the only thing that remains in your way is sitting down to do it.

The first draft may not be what you're looking for but it will be something on a page that you can then work with to make into what you need it to be.

The hardest part, I think, is knowing where you're going and knowing your characters well enough that you know how they'll react to whatever happening to them. That last bit is the key to a character, in my opinion, not having a sheet or template but being able to confidently say "X happens, they'll do Y" or at least being able to sit down and figure it out based on what you know about them. Let the characters drive the plot and the story and they'll never be unrealistic.

Otherwise, personally, I write for myself. I write things I want to read that I know others won't give me or things I want to try my hand at. It's nice if other people like it, but I can't be here for them and at the end of the day it has to be what I'm happy with.

Ultimately what matters for your multi-chapter fic is if you're happy with it and if you feel it's portraying what you wish to portray. If other people like it, wunderbar, well done, but they shouldn't be the ones you're doing it for.

The Fuck is Conflict?!

The only thing I think not previously addressed is how to create conflict. That's thinking about it a little backwards, the conflict in a way, should arise naturally.

But let's break it down.

Conflict ultimately arises from the desires and motivations of the various characters.

You have an evil emperor who wants to be an evil emperor and you have the peasants who don't want an evil emperor: conflict. Edward despises vampirism and Bella wants to be a vampire: conflict. The Cullens all want to be a happy family but ultimately they have very different values from one another that are incompatible: conflict.

The conflict should already exist among your cast of characters. They have different ways of viewing the world, different things they want, or there's some obstacle in their way preventing them from getting what they want.

What you need then is a catalyst. Something happens that shakes up the status quo. It's revealed that an item thought unattainable is suddenly attainable, the evil emperor makes his first big move, a stranger arrives who highlights the existing issues within the family.

Something happens that causes the character desires, motivations, etc. to either clash or be set into motion.

For me, the conflict is the story. It's both what happens to set off anything, the problem(s) to be resolved or otherwise wrapped up, and what will drive the characters forward in the story.

Without the conflict, you have a tumblr post, not a story.

In that sense, then, conflict is almost as easy as "what do I want to even happen in this multi-chapter fic". If you have something, anything, happening that's going to cause issues for the characters, you probably have your conflict right there.

@therealvinelle, you got anything to add?

#writing #writing advice #vinelle #therealvinelle #praise

27 notes · View notes

moriarty1234 · 22 days

Text

T*LC Refutation (but decidedly NOT johnlock refutation)

[Note: I love and ship johnlock because I saw it for myself in the show when I watched it and was part of the general audience in the past. I even want it to become canon in some Holmes adaption in the future. But T*lc needs to get sucked into obscurity and forgotten. Other fandoms like Good Omens, etc., are following the same rhetoric in their "meta" posts, and that needs to go. This is crucial for our basic critical thinking skills and objectivity.]

Read Part - 3 : Everything wrong with "subtexts" and "symbolisms" here.

Part-4: The Harmful Aspect of T*LC:

Let's move on to some more serious issues, or why we (Kim and I) don't believe for even a second that hardcore t*lcers (the ones who're rabid about this theory) ever cared for any type of representation, or even johnlock in itself for that matter.

I say hardcore t*lcers because the normal ones simply believe in t*lc and keep that shit to themselves. I'm even mutuals with them on Tumblr (although I know that when the show was on air, hardcore, insufferable, and deeply problematic t*lcers were in the majority).

1.) The very definition of t*lc : The general idea of t*lc is that johnlock has been planned since 2010 (right from the first episode of S1), this whole show is essentially a love story between Sherlock and John, the cases are not so important, and that johnlock is going to be the endgame canon ship. When the writers deny anything related to johnlock in their own show, they're lying to keep their elaborate plan under the wraps. When Sherlock and John kiss on screen, it'll be a rug pull moment for all the non-believers, their love story will be groundbreaking queer representation in mainstream media, and BBC Sherlock will become a culturally iconic Holmes adaptation. Because sometimes, the queer characters can be the heroes of the story.

All this sounded so nice and fancy to me when I was new to shipping johnlock. Because BBC Sherlock was my first fandom that I ever participated in. Johnlock was (and is) my first ship. I used to be a non-shipper before this, because I'm not exactly a Romance-genre fan in published fiction.

Now I don't like the general idea of this at all. Not because I don't want johnlock to become canon in some version (I really do), but there are so many flaws in the very idea of t*lc.

a.) They didn't even plan what they were going to do with Rosie Watson in S4. They just introduced the pregnancy subplot to raise the stakes in HLV. Only for shock value purposes. This was Mark Gatiss' statement (now I can't find the link but I've seen an article about this before). To think they'd planned an entire romance storyline, but it was just under the wraps the whole time, is unrealistic.

b.) While it's true that showrunners or directors do lie to their fans before a work is published to maintain an element of surprise, Moffat and Gatiss had denied anything related to johnlock too many times, and almost vehemently for most viewers to believe that they're just lying. One can only lie too many times, after all. And something needs to be there in the actual show for (maximum) fans to catch on that they're indeed just lying. There wasn't enough evidence for that. Too many of those scenes just came off as gay jokes instead of anything of real substance. That wasn't a good look.

c.) The third part is really what gets me the most here, and one of the main reasons why Kim and I began to actively despise t*lc, even though we're both still pro-johnlock. These people really thought the ultimate rug pull moment for the entire audience should be... that John and Sherlock are in love? Really? That's it? That's highest standard you have for supposedly groundbreaking queer representation? That doesn't sound right. Queer representation really shouldn't be used for shock value. As if we're not marginalised and isolated from most people already. Especially in my country. That just sounds as though you want to place these two characters in a museum as though they're some exotic beings or something. That's the opposite of a healthy queer rep.

d.) Even if johnlock were canon, it would've hardly been groundbreaking for the purposes of queer representation. Even in the 2010s. Because shows like Breaking Bad (a show from 2008, i.e., before BBC Sherlock, in which a very significant character is canonically gay and black), Elementary (where Mrs Hudson is canonically trans, Joan Watson is a well written character even as a poc female lead, Jamie Moriarty is also properly characterised when mainstream media doesn't have a lot of well-written female villains to begin with), London Spy (which is also a BBC show from 2015), Money Heist (which also features a significant canonically gay character), etc., still existed. I'll even list The Irregulars as an example, even though the first season of that show was aired in 2021, because that was still before the Sherlock Holmes franchise entered the public domain. Watson is canonically gay and black in that one.

e.) This is a detective show you're talking about. Cases aren't important? You kidding me?

2.) Rabid t*lcers were hypocritical as hell. They used to demand canon johnlock for "representation", but they were all sorts of bigoted people themselves.

a.) They made racist comments about Lucy Liu.

(From Sarah Z's video) :

They've called slurs to fans of colour in the fandom (I can think of one fan specifically right now) for not shipping johnlock.

b.) Characterising Sherlock as a twink, gay baby, or "smol" is fetishistic. It's just homophobia indirectly.

c.) They went rabid about the bisexual Sherlock headcanon, Instead of simply disagreeing with it for whatever reason. You're not doing the queer community any favours by h/cing John as bisexual just for your johnlock shipping, only because he has canonically shown attraction to women.

See this:

Stop playing the victim card right after perpetuating biphobia lol. You need to rewatch the show if you think mere fascination was all he felt for Irene. Also, even if he genuinely didn't show any attraction to any woman in canon, fanon can still be its own thing. Not everything has to be strictly canon compliant.

One more:

Stop straw manning and assuming real people's sexuality. Stop ship bashing. Enough with the biphobia.

This person is a johnlocker and "The One" obviously means johnlock here. No, not everyone is uncomfortable because of johnlock for bigoted reasons. People are allowed to have preferences.

Another one (probably my favourite) :

Talk about hypocrisy. The title of this post sounds so positive to bisexuality, but then OP goes right ahead to frantically claim Sherlock is 100% gay and not anything else!!! 1!!

Sherlock is heavily queercoded in the show, I agree. I don't even care whether that was the authorial intent or not at this point. That's what a non-insignificant amount of people took away from this show.

But his canon sexuality was never specified. People are allowed to interpret his sexuality however they want. You are nobody to state your own headcanons as facts.

More hypocrisy.

d.) The acephobia was rampant in this fandom mostly because of these people. It's a well-documented fact.

e.) The misogyny in this fandom was ugly. The kind of outlandish metas they write trying to disprove adl*ck from the show... jeez. If adl*ck definitely doesn't exist in this show, why would you need to disprove it so many times through your meta posts?

Can't erase something that really isn't there, just saying.

"Irene is just a personification of Sherlock's libido for John." Seriously? Do you even listen to yourself?

Don't get me wrong. I blame Mofftiss equally as much for not writing women properly in general, Irene Adler in particular. They butchered canon Irene Adler (a queen) way too much in their show. But the fans' response to her was almost worst.

It's understandable if the show's version of Mary doesn't sit right with you for whatever reason. People are allowed to have preferences. Personally, I'm quite neutral about Mary Morstan in this show.

But these people used to take their hate for her too far. These people have never been as mad at Moriarty, or even at Culverton Smith, as they all were at Mary for shooting Sherlock. Again, this is a crime drama show. Not all characters are going to be sunshine and roses.

3.) Rabid t*lcers hardly ever tried to explore johnlock in other versions. If you're a fan of Sherlock Holmes, you'll be at least curious about different adaptations that exist out there. Why did they hardly ever posted about The Irregulars when it was aired? An adaptation in which Watson is canonically in love with Holmes? I've been around in the johnlock fandom enough to know that the rabid t*lcers (NOT ALL T*LCers) never really cared about the possibility of johnlock in some other version after it ultimately didn't become canon in BBC Sherlock. They only care for johnlock as long as Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman are associated with it.

... Yup.

(ACD canon Watson was in his early thirties in the first novel. That's not middle aged. Joanlock didn't even become canon - something that was specified since Day 1 - in Elementary lmfao. Also, Lucy Liu was in her forties when Elementary aired. Get your facts straight.)

All these three points are enough to conclude that what t*lcers usually posted about was obviously not "demand for representation", but rather a demand for some extremely specific fantasies acted out on screen with an even more specific choice of actors.

I even joked to Kim about this: The stuff they demand for is so extremely specific that it sounds like a Starbucks order lol.

Part: 5 - Conclusion:

I want johnlock to become canon in some version of Sherlock Holmes adaptation. But I want t*lc as a theory to be completely forgotten and obscured. T*lc is definitely not the way to go about it. Other fandoms (namely Good Omens) have started to write "metas" with the exact same rhetoric in them, and now it's completely unacceptable. It's 2024 now. Let it go.

Some interesting links Kim and I found that are very insightful and relevant to this post:

About cults and the followers

Cult psychology

Conspiracy theory psychology

Science vs pseudo-science

Science vs psudo-science - 2

Conspiracy theory psychology - 2

Signs someone is a pseudo-intellectual

One explanation why even otherwise sensible people seem to believe in t*lc

PS: Not every dark haired character/ blond character is a Sherlock/John mirror respectively. That's not how character-mirroring works. Experts would know this.

T*LC refutation (but NOT johnlock) refutation master post.

#anti tjlc #anti mofftiss #anti moffat #anti bbc sherlock #fandom meta #sherlock holmes #science vs pseudo science #conspiracy theories #cults #pseudo intellectualism #love the ship without the conspiracy part though #it's my favourite #racism tw #homophobia tw #biphobia tw #acephobia tw #we care about science and sherlock holmes in general

2 notes · View notes

t0mcruize123 · 2 months

Text

March 5th

First March 5th🎀🫶

There will be five parts to this story all loosely inspired by the film Vanilla Sky but very different and much more romantic😭 this is ofc written for @mqverick birthday, I hope you enjoy it bae🫵🎀

First March 5th:

My hand clamped around the glass bottle as I poured myself yet another wine that night. The room was buzzing with music and activity – people dancing and hollering whilst I stood in the corner and resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I hadn't even wanted to come to David’s party and now I was standing here like some kind of loser but unable to leave.

Brian was my ride, and he was currently chatting up every woman in sight – the poor things. He wanted me to spend my final night in New York surrounded by work colleagues and having the time of my life but all I really wanted was to get home and pack all my belongings.

“What are you wearing?”

I spun to see a startingly blonde woman glaring at me as though I’d committed a crime. Her blue eyes bored into mine and I didn't fail to notice the slight sneer of her lip.

I looked down at my white dress, “Do you have a problem with it?”

“I have a problem when you wear matching costumes with my David,” she snapped.

I folded my lips together to stifle a laugh, as if I’d ever willingly match with David Aames. He worked at the same publishing company as me and I’d always hated his guts though I’m not sure he’d ever noticed. He was just another privileged man inheriting one of the greatest companies from his father - I didn't have time for people like him.

“You think this is funny?” She shouted over the music.

I really didn't have time for people like her either, “Nice meeting you.”

Tuning out her protests, I quickly walked away before she could catch up with me. Clearly, she was just another girl obsessed with David for reasons I really couldn't fathom. As I pushed past the dancing bodies and struggled to hear my own thoughts over the music, I noticed that a few heads had turned to face me. I shrugged it off, but it was hard to ignore everyone's stares following my every step.

“Brian!” I touched his shoulder in relief, “You left me.”

“I didn't leave you, I encouraged you to socially interact with your friends before you leave tomorrow.”

Smartass. I pinched the bridge of my nose and muttered, “Is it just me or are there loads of people staring?”

He looked down at me in confusion, “Well obviously.”

“Why is that obvious?”

“Because you're matching with David.”

“I’m not-” the words seemed to escape me as I spotted David from across the room. He was dressed in a black button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. With one hand, he’d flung a dark blazer over his shoulder, and he ran his other hand through his dark raven hair.

Brian leaned low and whispered for just me to hear, “Rumour has it there's two angles at this party and their destined to collide tonight.”

I shoved his shoulder and turned back to face David across the room. Even from so far away you could see that he was attractive. Maybe it was the confidence in his step, his ruffled black shirt, or the jacket flung over his shoulder, but he dripped with ease. Everybody knew I despised his very existence and now they all thought we’d intentionally matched. The angel and the fallen angel.

For fucks sake.

“Why do you look so pissed? This is a good thing!” Brian grinned from my side, “I’ve been telling you for years, you and David would make a good cou-”

“Don't finish that sentence,” I scoffed, “I know you two are best friends and I’m okay with that but you need to stop trying to force us together. I don't like him.”

“Only because he inherited a company, and that's not his fault.”

I huffed in annoyance, “I shouldn't have come here.”

“Oh come on don't be like that!” He argued, “It's your last night in New York and you want to be alone at home?”

“You say that like it's a bad thing.”

“Say what like it's a bad thing?”

I turned to see David standing there with a small glint in his eye as he looked between the two of us. Brian grinned and embraced him in a hug, nearly toppling them both to the ground.

“Happy birthday! And all the usual shit people say to each other,” Brian clapped his shoulder, “How you doing?”

“Living the dream,” he flashed a David smile then looked down at my white dress. It was cropped short and accentuated my hips and curves, but it wasn't meant for him. I swallowed back a remark and forced a smile.

“Happy birthday David,” I looked down at the gift in my hands.

“Thank you,” he never once broke eye contact and I felt a flush of heat creeping up to my cheeks. Under the intensity of his gaze, I felt myself growing hot but I refused to look away. It felt as though we were back at work, silently daring each other with eye contact and tingling with excited energy.

“We both picked it out,” Brian cut in and when David still refused to look away, he repeated, “We both picked it, David. The both of us.”

The corner of David’s lip turned upwards though that smirk quickly vanished with Brian commented, “Stop flirting and open it.”

My head snapped to his in anger and David shook himself out of a daze, “Yes, let's get a drink I’ll uh..leave this upstairs.”

I folded my lips together and walked away without another word. Just the memory of David’s hot gaze brought a shameful blush to my cheeks, and I tried to hide it. I always knew he had a physical effect on me, I mean- why wouldn't he? He was undoubtedly gorgeous; it was just the fact that he was an asshole that was such a turn off. He always walked around the company as though he owned the place, and I get it, he did, but did he have to be so cocky? He paid no attention to his workers so why should I pay so much attention to him?

I paused when something to my left caught my eye. Displayed on the rich guy's wall, was a smashed guitar behind a glass case. I honestly wasn't surprised this was the kind of thing David collected.

“It was a gift actually.”

How did he always manage to sneak up on me so quietly? And had I really spoken out loud? I gave him a sideways glance and he smiled at me as though all this was some kind of cat and mouse game, but I was bored. We’d been challenging each other for years, and on my last night in the city, I didn't want to be doing the same old shit.

“I like it,” I commented, hoping that would be enough to please him as I turned away.

“Woah, woah, woah,” he reached for my hand and his fingertips gently brushed mine. I pretended not to notice and swallowed hard,

“So how did you get all this stuff? This apartment, this life?” I asked, knowing damn well it was all to do with his father. For a long moment, he didn't reply and I scoffed, “I see.”

I walked away for good this time and tried to shake away the tingling sensation rippling through my hands. It was one fucking touch, why did I react this way? I could feel someone still staring at me and turned around to flip David off, but he wasn't anywhere in sight. I could only see the blonde woman from earlier who was still glaring at me with an icy blue gaze.

“How about if you help me?” David rushed back to my side though this time I was grateful to turn towards him. This blonde bitch thought she could stare at me all night just because my boss wanted to talk to me? Fine. I’d flirt with him all night long just to piss her off, because I was bored, maybe a little drunk, and David was – as I said – undoubtedly gorgeous. Yeah, I hated him but it was my last night here. I suppose I could put my feelings away for just a few hours, right?

“Help you with what?” His eyes flickered with surprise, but he quickly explained,

“See, I’ve got this little problem. I’ve got a stalker and I need a cover.”

My brow arched.

“I need you to pretend you’re my girlfriend for the rest of the night – I know it's tough.”

I bit back my smile though couldn't help the excitement building up in my chest, “Ill improvise.”

“For now, I need you to pretend were having a conversation and you are wildly entertained,” he pressed his palms together and pleaded, “I’ll do whatever you want in return.”

I grinned, “Whatever I want?”

His brow drew together, “Well within reason of course.”

I folded my arms together, “There's not much I want from you David, I’m not gonna lie. I’m leaving tomorrow for Chicago and I'll never-”

“I’ll talk to your new boss!” His voice heightened, “I’ll put in a good word, maybe even get you a high paying, new promotion...”

My eyes widened in surprise, I’d never seen David so desperate. Without uttering a word, I leant forward and wrapped my hands around his neck. He was stiff at first but then his hands came up to the small of my back.

“Shes right across the room, and she’d burning a hole in my back now, isn't she?” He whispered in my ear and I could hear the smile in his voice.

I stared at the blonde woman whilst I ran my fingers through his hair, “Red dress, strappy shoes?”

“Yes.”

“Wow, she’s really staring at us,” the corner of my lip lifted as the woman’s hands curled into fists at her sides, “And she seems to be growing less happy.”

I pulled back and stared into David’s green eyes, noticing the golden flecks in them for the first time, “I think she’s the saddest girl to ever hold a martini.”

He grinned, “Mission accomplished.”

I looked back over his shoulder to see the stalker making her way towards us through the crowd, “Let's go upstairs.”

David realised what I meant and didn't make the mistake of looking back. Hurriedly, we both rushed up the grand staircase and I found myself laughing as we tripped and tumbled our way to the top. I felt as though we were school children rushing through the corridors, and it felt so weird to feel so happy when with David Aames.

There was nobody upstairs except the two of us and yet I enjoyed the comfortable silence rather than the music coming from downstairs. It felt right...being up here with him, even with that dislike still bubbling evenly under the surface. There was something about David that seemed to put me at ease.

I looked up to see paintings adorning all the white walls, “Who did these paintings?”

He caught his breath and pointed at the first one, “This is Joni Mitchell...and this one is Monet. And this one-,” he proudly posed next to a brightly coloured snowboard, “Is done by me.”

“Well two of them are geniuses,” I quipped as I stepped towards the Monet painting, unable to hide my smile. His snowboard was cute to be honest.

“That is the real thing, his paintbrush painted the vanilla sky on this canvas,” he looked up at the art with an expression of awe, “My mothers.”

“Well what's going on here?” Brian stumbled up the steps with a wide grin as though he’d caught us in the act.

“Julie Gianni is stalking me,” David smiled.

I touched his shoulder, “She looked dangerous.”

“Well nobody stalks me, so I drink!”

“Were all out of drinks up here-”

“Here, finish my jack and coke,” Brian offered his glass, but it slipped from his grasp, falling to the ground with a smash, “Stupid glass.”

Tiny glass shards littered the floor and David put his arm out protectively to keep me back, “No it's the stupid guy holding it.”

I chuckled quietly as Brian walked back towards the door, “Where are you going?”

He solemnly touched his chest, “I am Frank, and Frank must go.”

“What?”

“I good you bid evening.”

David laughed at his remark and the sound seemed to echo as I stepped forward, “Wait I’ll go with you. You’re my ride.”

He huffed, “Stay.”

“I’ll give you a ride home after,” David offered as he began to clean the broken glass.

“No, I have to get on a flight early tomorrow.”

“You...you are in great hands,” his movements were sluggish as he stifled a yawn, “I’m just humoring myself that my opinion matters.”

Brian clapped David’s shoulder, “You will never know the exquisite pain of the guy who goes home alone,” David looked as though he was trying not to laugh, and I smiled, “Because without the bitter the sweet ain’t as sweet.”

I shrugged and Brian clapped his shoulder once more, “Have a good time.”

“Sweet and Sour speech again,” David murmured as Brian walked out the door, “Wait, you said that you have a flight early tomorrow?”

I nodded, “I told you, I’m flying to Chicago for my new job.”

“I didn't realise you were leaving so soon,” I shouldn't have loved his disappointed tone as much as I did.

“Yeah, it’s a shame, especially since now I’m finally starting to like you.”

“Well maybe if you’d have actually spoken to me in the two years that we’ve known each other at work, you would've realised I’m not that bad.”

“Oh no, that would've ruined the experience.”

“Experience?”

“The magical experience of spending my last night in New York with my gorgeous boss,” we shared a grin, “And I’m allowed to say that now because as of tomorrow, I’ll have a new boss so there's nothing you can do about it.”

“Mhm,” he folded his arms together and stepped closer, “You think I’m gorgeous?”

I almost regretted speaking so boldly, but I wasn't going to be a pussy on my last night here with him, “I have since the moment I first met you.”

“Aren't you the romantic?” I swear to God if he flashed another grin I was going to pass out.

“You should see my romance book collection at home, it's quite impressive,” I blurted.

“Why am I not surprised?” He chuckled, “I bet when you're supposed to be working, you have fantasies about me sweeping you off your feet and kissing you in the rain.”

I laughed and went along with it, “Am I that transparent? I have fantasies we have angry love confessions at the most inconvenient times, and you run to me for the airport kiss.”

“The airport kiss?” His brow raised.

“When the female is leaving the city, and the male lead chases after her in slow motion, then kisses her before the plane takes off.”

“Wow, now that sounds romantic, I bet you’ve read over 100 books with that trope.”

I blushed, “Would you like to see them?”

“See them?”

“Come back to my place,” I’d never been so forward in my life, but I wasn't going to stop, “You could stay at mine?”

The corner of his lip quirked up, “I’m just so surprised you’d want to actually spend time with me after hating me for so long.”

“Me to honestly,” I met his eye, “But I want to spent time with somebody before I go. I deserve to have one last great memory.”

He leant forwards and murmured, “I’ll make it unforgettable.”

I unlocked the front door and stepped into the familiar space, shrugging off my coat. All my furniture had been moved and the house was stripped bare though David still looked around as though he were impressed.

“Would you like something to drink?” He moved towards the kitchen whilst I kicked off my heels. The idea of David Aames walking around my apartment was so absurd I found myself smiling to myself in the hallway.

“Sure,” he stopped in front of the fridge and stared at the old photographs I still needed to take down.

“Oh ignore those, I look awful,” I laughed and began to tug them down.

“You can't say that about yourself.”

I grinned before realised he was being serious, “Why not?”

“Because the only times you see yourself are in pictures and mirrors where you force a smile,” I didn't think it was healthy for hearts to beat as fast as mine was, “I’m the one whose seen you real laugh, and I’m not talking about for photos or when you're around colleagues, I mean when were fake dating and you run up the stairs like you're scared to get caught. I’m the one whose seen your true beauty.”

I leaned upwards and pressed my lips against his cheek, only because I don't think I could've done anything else in the moment. There was no point kissing him as passionately and as shamelessly as I wanted to, because I was leaving tomorrow, and we’d never see each other again. I didn't want to give him false hope, but at the same time, I couldn't have gone another second without kissing him somewhere.

“Do you want to know the story behind this picture?” I picked up a random photo from the pile as a distraction.

“Sergio?” He scanned the photo for a second, “Your nickname is sergio?”

“Its a long story and we hardly know each other,” the truth cut through like a knife but I remained composed.

“So many secrets,” he shook his head.

“Well what about you? What's your nickname?”

He stilled for a moment in hesitation and I grinned. Whatever he was going to say was going to be incredible, I just knew it. He sighed heavily and reluctantly answered,

“Citizen Dildo.”

“Mhm,” I choked back a laugh and turned around, “Thats all the confirmation I need.”

I moved toward my CD player and held up two for him to choose from, “Do you want to hear Jeff Buckley or Vicky Carr?”

“Both,” he answered without hesitation, “Simultaneously.”

Pressing play, I moved towards the bedroom whilst he slumped down on the floor, “I’m getting changed out of this dress, don't walk in.”

“How will I ever contain myself?” He joked and barely dodged the pillow I threw at him from across the room.

I shut my bedroom door and undid the straps at my back, sighing with relief and considering what to wear. I needed something comfortable for the plane but I wanted something that still looked good for David. God, why did I care so much about what he thought?

“So, are you excited for Chicago?” He called from outside the door.

I nodded then remembered he couldn't see me, “I can't wait! It's always been a dream to go there, and though I’ll miss my friends here obviously, there's just so much more there. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah, you have to seize those opportunities,” he agreed, “I’m going to miss seeing you around the office though.”

“Oh David, you’re such a flirt,” I batted my eyelashes jokingly as I swung open the door. I was wearing a black sweater and matching cropped skirt with my hair pulled back. I’d wiped my make-up clean, and I was hoping he wouldn't notice.

“You have freckles,” he murmured, staring down at me with a small smile that made me blush yet again. There was nowhere to sit now that all my furniture had been shipped but David didn't seem to mind sitting on the floor.

“Ooh,” I pulled my writing pad out from my bag, “Care for a drawing contest?”

“Drawing contest? I’m not an artist,” he grinned and accepted a sheet of paper, “Actually I take it back, I can draw caricatures.”

“Caricatures? Fine, I challenge you to a caricature contest,” I smiled and pressed my pen to the paper, “I never would've expected David Aames could draw caricatures. There's still so much I don't know about you.”

His lips pressed together as he concentrated on drawing, “Ask me anything.”

I began to sketch out David’s comically large head, adding huge teeth just for fun, “Does it ever get difficult? Controlling all those people’s lives and being the boss?”

He looked up and I continued, “Everyone at that party was connected to you for survival in some way it seems.”

His gaze lowered back to his pen, “It can be overwhelming at times but...but it's what I’ve been raised to do. I always knew I was going to be in this position, and I’ve worked hard for it, despite what you may think.”

I startled and David smiled, “I know you think I’m a nobody who inherited his father’s company and in some ways you're right. But I’ve worked hard every day for years to prove myself worthy of my position,” he swallowed, “I mean I used to be one of those guys just snowboarding through life with no focus whatsoever. But not anymore.”

I watched his expression lighten, “When did you change?”

“About five minutes ago.”

I recited in my wisest voice, “Every passing minute is another chance to turn it all around.”

He grinned, “And where did you hear that?”

“My mom,” I looked down, “She was full of wise advice. There was one specific piece of advice she gave me which I’ve never forgotten.”

He looked up in anticipation and I continued, “She told me not to get serious with anybody until I turned 23 years old.”

A crease grew between his brow, “Why 23?”

“She thought it was the age of maturity,” I shrugged and nodded towards my picture, “Ive never drawn such a true likeness before.”

We spent the next few minutes perfecting our drawings and talking about everything - work, our families, our exes, our hopes, our dreams - all our conversations seemed to impact me in a way I couldn’t explain. I’d never laughed harder, and I never thought two adults could have so much fun sitting on the floor drawing each other as cartoons. I was learning so much about him and yet so desperate to still know everything.

David placed his picture face down on the floor between us, “Finished.”

“Already?” I finished the last few details and handed it to him with a proud smile, “Done.”

A low chuckle escaped his lips, “Thats how you see me.”

“Maybe I didn't add enough money.”

“It’s wonderful,” he cut in with a big smile, “Sign it.”

I looked down at his drawing still face down between us and he rubbed his brow awkwardly, “Let's see yours.”

“No,” he snatched it back and huffed a quiet laugh.

“Give me that-” I reached forward.

“Its-”

I grabbed the piece of paper and couldn't help but gasp at the portrait. How he managed to capture such a perfect drawing was beyond me and I couldn't help but stare at it in surprise. Every detail of my face; every strand of hair, every freckle, it was all there.

“I feel bad,” I sighed and looked up, “You said to draw a caricature.”

“I know, but I couldn't,” he gestured to the drawing, “I saw you like that.”

I shifted a few inches closer, “It's very good.”

“Oh yeah?” His head cocked to the side, “I’ll sell it to you.”

“You monster,” my eyes narrowed with a smile, “How much for?”

He paused for dramatic effect, “One secret.”

I grinned and turned away, my heart hammering once more at the effect of his words. I couldn't have such strong feelings when I was leaving in a few hours, but I couldn't help it.

“That smile is going to be the death of me,” he commented, watching me watch him.

For the first time since we got back, a feeling of dread nagged at me, “What happens when I get off the plane tomorrow? And I won't be able to see you, and I’ll have a new boss and a new job?”

He sighed and I continued, “And my promise to my mother? I know it's stupid David, but I’m not getting serious until I’m 23-”

“It's not stupid I get it,” he ran a hand through his hair, “It's just so frustrating. We could also try the long-distance thing?”

“That’ll never work,” I shook my head, “What about us visiting each other every other weekend?”

His smile this time was much sadder, “I know I’m the head of the company but even I couldn't afford that.”

I slumped down on the floor, and he lay down next to me, both our minds whirring as we tried to come up with a solution. I really did want to see him again, but it wasn't going to w-

“What if we meet up once a year?” He sat up in excitement.

“Once a year?”

“Like an anniversary,” his grin widened, “Every March 5th, you can come here, or I can fly over there. We’ll meet up once a year, every year for five years.”

“Until I’m 23,” I mumbled more to myself than him, “We can meet up at the same restaurant at the same time each year, so it doesn't get confusing.”

“No awkward long distant relationship,” he added.

“No expensive flights,” my smile faded as he lay back down next to me, “It’ll work.”

“It fits both of us, it just doesn't solve one issue.”

I turned to face him, “What's that?”

A glint of light shone in his eye though I might've imagined it, “I’m going to miss you.”

Without a second thought, or rather a first, I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face into his shoulder. His arms came up to hold me instinctively and I sagged with relief against him. It sounded crazy I know – I'd spent so long hating him when now I realised he was the perfect one for me. He understood what I felt, what I thought without me having to say a word. He wanted the same things as me, and I was happy when I was with him and now...now I was leaving.

But the idea of meeting up every March 5th sounded perfect. It fit both our needs and though I knew nothing would ever be the same, I was ready to welcome this next step. I wrapped my arms tighter around him and inhaled the scent of his sweet smelling cologne, trying to commit it to memory. I wasn't sure how long we stayed like that – it could've been minutes, maybe even hours, but all I knew is that I’d never felt such a comfort like this before.

I sat up suddenly with a feeling of dread gnawing at my insides. David was asleep at my side, and we were both on the floor in the early hours of the morning. I frantically looked at the clock and realised I was running late for my flight. Shit shit shit this could not be happening. Not when I’d planned out every single detail for weeks! Well, I guess I’d never planned for David Aames to be spending the night with me but I couldn't worry about that now. I had to get to the airport.

David shifted tiredly and I touched his shoulder in a rush, “David? David wake up, we have to get to the airport.”

He yawned and rubbed a hand down his brow and if I wasn't in such a panic, I would've thought it was one of the cutest things I’d ever seen a man do. But I didn't have the time to think about things like that, I was going to be late! How could we have fallen asleep, one minute we were talking, the next we were holding each other and then...we must've just been tired after the party.

“I’m up!” He staggered to his feet then looked down at his watch, “Oh shit we are late.”

“Yeah!” I rushed into the bedroom and grabbed my bags, “Is your car alright to drive to the airport?”

“Oh yeah don't worry about things like that,” he grabbed some of my heaviest suitcases without even a hint of struggle, “Let's just go.”

We packed all my bags into the boot of his car and hurried towards the airport. We made polite conversation on the journey there, but we were both too worried I was going to be late for my flight. My palms were sweaty and my chest was heaving and David didnt fail to notice. He reached over and held my hand tightly, assuring me we were going to make it.

“Thanks David,” that tense feeling in my chest began to lighten as he squeezed my hand, “And not just for this for everything. I’m so sorry I’ve been a complete jerk to you these past two years.”

“Dont worry that,” he shook his head, “A wise person once told me every passing minute is another chance to turn it all around.”

“They sound like a weirdo.”

He laughed, and I felt sad that I might have to wait a whole year to hear it again, “Yeah they are pretty strange. I kind of like them though.”

He parked the car and we hurriedly clambered out of our seats and grabbed my things. Carrying so many bags and running through the airport was a lot harder than they made it look in movies, but we managed to make it as far as possible before one of the workers stopped us. It was time for me to get on the plane, I’d just about made it on time.

“You did it!” His hand came up to hi five mine.

“We did it,” I corrected and interlaced our fingers together. The worker stood there with his arms folded, annoyed that I was already late and taking my time but he was the least of my worries. I had so much to say to David and so little time. I didnt want to say goodbye, not yet.

“Youre going to do great in Chicago, I just know it,” he clasped my face in his hands and looked down at me as though I were the only thing that mattered, “You’ve got something special.”

“Autism?”

“Determination,” he chuckled and pressed his lips against my forehead, “Dont ever lose that.”

I exhaled slowly and tried to commit his moment to memory, knowing I was going to wnat to replay it the whole flight, “This sounds insane but I genuinely feel connected to you after spending one night together. Theres something about us that just works, you know what I mean?”

“I know exactly what you mean. I’ve never gotten so comfortable with anybody so fast,” his thumb stroked my cheek, “And I’m never going to miss anybody as much as I miss you.”

I felt my eyes burn with the threat of tears and hastily tried to change the tone of the conversation, “We’ll be okay. A year will go by so fast, I’m sure of it.”

“Oh 100%,” he agreed, though he didnt sound as convinced, “But what if we break our promise of meeting once a year? What if we get desperate and try to contact one another?”

I bit my lip in thought, “We’ll block each other on social media and delete each other’s phone numbers. I think thats whats best.”

He nodded solemnly, “Yeah, thats whats best.”

I tried to control my shaky breathing and hammering heart but nothing was going to save me now. I was covered in sweat from running through the airport, tired from the night before with probably dark shadows under my eyes and tangled hair, but David didnt care about things like that. He liked me just the way I was.

He pressed his forehead against mine and I savoured in the way his skin felt and the connection between us that only grew. In that moment, it felt as though we breathed as one, we moved and communicated as one.

But now it was time to go.

“Miss, you really need to get on the plane if you dont want your seat taken,” the guy with his arms folded warned and I forced myself to smile. My eyes were burning and my heart had never felt this much pressure, but i managed to remain composed. I gave David my brightest smile and he returned it with a grin, though it wavered slightly as though he was just doing it for me.

Before too much damange was done, I walked out onto the platform and refused to look back. Each step mirrored each drag of my heart but I kept walking. I was going to have to survive a year without this man, and I’d already survived two. I could do five minutes before take off.

As I climbed up the steps onto the plane, I heard a yell echo from behind me. One foot hovering on the plane and the other on the last step, I turned to see David running towards me – except he wasnt just running.

He was running in slo-motion.

Mouth agape and calling my name dramatically, he slowly ran forward and I couldnt help but laugh at the sight. The people on the plane looked out the windows and I felt myself blushing with embrassment. David didnt seem to care about what other people thought though, running like an idiot with a joking, emotional expression.

He slowly made his way up the steps, the whole time yelling “Dont go! I came baacckk” making the flight attendents and everyone watching chuckle quietly. He never once broke eyecontact as he finally made his way to me at the top of the stairs. Without wasting another breath, he stepped forward and pressed his lips against mine, catching me so off guard I mightve moaned against his lips. He pressed himself deep against me, his fingers frantically rushing through my hair as he drove his lips even closer to mine.

The people on the plane cheered and I felt so stupid and yet so happy I couldnt find it in myself to pull away. David’s pupils dialted though the lighting had not changed and my heart hammered in its cage like a humming bird set free. I’d kissed before but never like this – like I was starving, like I could stay in the moment forever.

He pulled back and I panted for breath, unable to wipe the stupid grin off my face. David didnt seem to ntoice the audience watching our every move, as his lips trailed across my jaw and his hands roamed over my back.

“Was that the epic slo-motion airport kiss you were hoping for?” He murmured against my skin, sending vibrations through my entire being.

“Everything and more,” I smiled against his lips, a feeling of relief settling within me.

David looked over my shoulder at the awaiting plane and then back at me, “You really need to get on that plane, and I need to run before security come find me.”

My jaw went slack, “You ran past security?”

“People do crazy things when love,” he winked as he stepped back, “I’ll see you next year, March 5th.”

“You promise?” I didnt like seeing him walk back but I knew in my heart it was the right thing to do. My body was still pulsing with adrenaline but I no longer cared about all the eyes on us.

“I promise,” he dipped his head with a grin.

For a short moment, I watched him walk away before finally climbing onto the plane. Trying not to let the tears – of sadness, joy, i wasn't sure – fall, I took my seat and stared out of the window. Was I really leaving the one and only person who’d made me feel so impossibly happy? And two, did David imply that he loved me?

I was going to have to wait 364 days until I got my answers.

#fanfic #tom cruise #vanilla sky #david aames #romance #march 5

2 notes · View notes