#outlander nonsense

[dramaticpandabear]

This is going to sound insane, but because I love both Skyrim and Star Wars, my own little personal head canon is that Nirn exists as a planet far out into the outer rim.

#I don’t care if there’s no connection it’s my personal head canon and y’all are just gonna have to deal with it #the hell is this force nonsense outlander #skyrim #the elder scrolls #tesblr #skyrim shitpost #elder scrolls shit post #Star Wars #star wars the bad batch #star wars the clone wars

[lady-o-ren]

A NIGHT IN THE WOOD

AO3 link (HERE)

//

A thunderstorm lights up the sky above a cottage somewhere deep in the mountains, belonging to the lady of the wood.

Some say she can take flight as a raven, white of feather.  

Others, a witch who feasts on the fair and young. 

But those who seek her out know her as a wisewoman who can heal the sick from whatever ails them.

Be they man or . . .

And though the hour is late, she pounds her pestle into her mortar. Over and over again. It doesn't matter that her fingers are growing stiff from the repetition or that her eyes crystal with tears. She's still too angry, too regretful, to allow herself to stop.

But as the storm continues on, her cottage shaking with each bolt of thunder that disturbs the herbs hanging above to scatter down upon her,  the lady hears a strange noise coming from outside her door that makes her jump and drop her pestle. Something that sounds like -

Scratch, Scratch, Scratch. 

Hand at her heart, she hurries to lift the latch at the door and opens it wide, knowing it's more than just a gust of wind she hears and finds . . . An odd but familiar sight.

A fox has taken refuge on her doorstep, beaten from the rain and wind. His red coat is soaked and he's shivering so that the rabbit he offers to her in his maw seems to tremble as well. 

But his eyes are unwavering and gleam with love that knows no end. Along with great remorse for what a wretched beast he's been. A star-flecked blue that nearly smites her heart. 

If only she didn't think him so devious for trying to gain her sympathy by presenting himself in his furs. 

"Come on then, before you catch your death,"  Claire says. Her tone is not unkind but there's no tenderness in her words either. For all is not quite forgiven just yet.

So, with his ears pinned back and tail between his legs, the exhausted fox takes a few tentative steps inside, body slacked low to the floor. 

And then he sneezes. 

Once. Then twice.

A squeaky sound that nearly makes her laugh.

"No need to put on a show, Jamie," she says, making more of an effort to soften her voice as she moves to the corner to snatch the quilt off their bed. "I promise I won't go at you with the broom again. But I refuse to speak to you as you are. Now get to the hearth and shift from those furs so I can warm you properly." 

But when Claire turns back around she finds her dear fox lying lifeless on the wooden floor in a puddle of rainwater turning black with blood. 

"Jamie!"  The lady of the wood cries.

She falls to her knees beside him and presses her hand to his chest, her palm flickering with a blue radiant light that pulses from her inner being through him. Searching, searching for a beat . . .

//

The red fox wakes sometime later to the soft patter of rain and something savory cooking in the air.

He's been washed and mended and is laying beneath a heavy quilt atop the bed. He thinks he's maybe human now, but just to be sure, he wiggles his long toes and tries to speak.

"Claire," Jamie rasps, tasting the bitter tang of his lady's tonic on his tongue and lips. "Mo chridhe . . ." He tries again, this time opening his eyes, seeking the face of his heart who comes swiftly to his bedside. 

"Hush, love," whispers Claire, smoothing the thick mass of hair from off his brow, her touch infused with warmth and gentleness just as her voice. "You need your rest." 

Jamie grunts trying to sit up anyway, but only manages to push himself up on one elbow.

"What I need is you. Your forgiveness. I had no right to do as I did wi'out telling ye and then to speak to ye in such a way -"

She presses her fingertips to his mouth bristled dark red like his furs around the corners curled into a frown. 

"You're forgiven, Jamie. But I need you to forgive me too. There was no reason for me to be so angry with you, not when you were only trying to protect us. Like you always do. "

He sits up straighter and lays a big hand over hers, bringing it flat to his bare chest where the beat of his heart thumps the same fervent, aching rhythm as hers. 

"There's nothing to forgive, Claire. My heart has been yers since first I saw ye, and my devotion too for keeping my soul and body safe between these hands here. "

His mouth twitches.

"Though I will say I've learned to never cross a woman holding a broom. Ye ken my arse is still stinging like holy hell? "

Claire doesn't share his smile. 

"You're lucky it was only my broom. If that monster ever figures out who you are, where you've been hiding -"

Her voice suddenly breaks as her fingers curl like talons into the warm flesh of his breast.

Jamie holds her by both arms, unflinching. "He won't, Claire. I promise ye. Ye needn't worry for me or us."

"But if he did," she lifts her gaze, burning a fierce otherworldly gold. "I'd break my oath for you Jamie. To never harm nor kill."

 "Ye'll do no such thing," he snarls, tightening his grip on her and gives her a little shake. " I've blood on my hands already but you - I'd never forgive myself for having ye taint the purity of yer God given gift for me."

"You think I care more for myself than you? That I love you less?" Claire lays a hand to his cheek, her thumb caressing the bold bones beneath. "I'd do it, Jamie, and gladly. "

He swallows thickly and leans his brow against hers. "I know ye would, mo ghràdh. Just as I would go to the stake wi ye."

After a long breathless moment, she nuzzles her nose against his and says softly against his mouth. 

"Thank you for bringing home dinner." 

Jamie smiles crookedly. "Least I could do for my lady when she patches me up." And intends to leave a trail of kisses down her neck when she pulls away, protesting. 

"I meant what I said, Jamie. You need to rest," she says, running the back of her hand over his jaw. "Or would you rather have a bit of stew?"

"Damn the stew. I'd rather take a bite out of you," Jamie growls, and falls back into bed with his lady in his arms to do just that. He nips at the soft skin of her neck while his eager hands ruck up her homespun dress, revealing skin more luminous than pearl and finer than silk beneath. There's even bitty leaves in her hair as if she sprouted from the earth for him to pluck and keep forever. 

But then she swats him away. 

"Jamie!" 

He groans, voice gruff with unfulfilled need as he rolls to his side, wincing a little from where she healed him, but keeps a firm grip of her plump backside. 

"I thought you were supposed to warm me? " He pouts. 

Claire sighs, brushing her curls from her flushed cheeks, having come undone. She knows how this will end, and the anticipation of devouring each other whole has her pulse pounding like a kettledrum down to her fingertips. But the healer in her just needs to make sure. 

"Are you even up to it?"

Jamie arches a ruddy brow, face so deadly serious that it's almost comical. 

"Do ye really need to ask?" 

The lady of the wood rolls her eyes yet smiles wide, biting her deliciously pink bottom lip. And untangles herself from her lover's embrace and very slowly begins to undress.

//

A/N:

I wrote two versions of this nonsense but couldn't decide on which one I liked better (not that this is outstanding writing or anything) The top part was version two. This bottom one is actually what I wrote first.

*There's also a loose quote in the version above from the book describing how Claire holds Jamie's life in her hands.

//

"You're forgiven, Jamie. But I need you to forgive me too. There was no reason for me to be so angry with you, not when you were only trying to protect us. Like you always do. "

He sits up straighter and lays a big hand over hers, bringing it flat to his bare chest.

"There's nothing to forgive. My heart has been yers since first I saw ye, and my devotion too for keeping my soul and body safe between these hands here. "

His mouth twitches.

"Though I will say I've learned to never cross a woman holding a broom. Ye ken my arse is still stinging like holy hell?"

"Well you deserved it, my wee fox," says Claire, tugging at the curly hairs on his chest.

Jamie snarls playfully and wraps his arms around her, bringing her close.

"I wasn't arguing any differently, vixen. But I could use a bit of your womanly sympathy. "

"Healing you wasn't enough?" She smiles coyly, running the back of her hand over his jaw. "What even took a bite out of you anyway?"

Jamie pokes his tongue out to lick the tip of her finger. She tastes of garlic and onions and meat with traces of her terrible tonic too.

"Twas my own fault. I wasn't looking where I was going, not that I could see really with all the rain, and came head to head with a mangy wolf. He wanted our supper. But I was faster."

"Not nearly fast enough," frowns Claire, thinking about the dark ugly bruise on his side, all that remained of the encounter. "I thought you died on my floor!"

Jamie shrugs, grinning cheekily.

"I wouldn't have died. Not wi' ye around, mo ghràdh. "

"Lucky you," she sighs, sounding rather annoyed, but nuzzles her nose against his. "But do try to avoid anything with sharp teeth next time. I've grown rather fond of you and your fluffy tail."

He chuckles warmly. "I promise, a nighean." And intends to leave a trail of kisses down her neck when she pulls away, protesting.

"I meant what I said, Jamie. You need to rest. Or would you rather have a bit of stew?"

"Damn the stew. I'd rather take a bite out of you." Jamie growls, and falls back into bed with his lady in his arms to do just that. He nips at the soft skin of her neck while his hands ruck up her homespun dress, revealing skin more luminous than pearl and finer than silk beneath. There's even bitty leaves in her hair as if she sprouted from the earth for him to pluck and keep forever.

But then she swats him away.

He groans, voice gruff with unfulfilled need as he rolls to his side, wincing a little, but keeps a firm grip of her plump backside.

"I thought you were supposed to warm me? " He pouts.

Claire sighs, brushing her curls from her flushed cheeks, having come undone. She knows how this will end, and the anticipation of devouring each other whole has her pulse pounding like a kettledrum down to her fingertips. But the healer in her just needs to make sure.

"Are you even up to it?"

Jamie arches a ruddy brow, face so deadly serious that it's almost comical.

"Do ye really need to ask?"

The lady of the wood rolls her eyes yet smiles wide, biting her deliciously pink bottom lip. And untangles herself from her lover's embrace and very slowly begins to undress.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander fic #jamie x claire #nonsense writing #fox jamie

[narastories]

If I had a penny for every time I've read a book with a sadist bastard character who wears an actually very pleasant floral signature scent that the other characters describe uncharitably because of who it's connected with... I would have two pennies. Which isn't much but it's weird that it happened twice.

#lmao #the first one is obviously bjr from outlander with lavender #and now I'm reading the dominion of the fallen books where asmodeus smells like orange blossoms and bergamot... #you know how nice actual orange blossoms smell like? #but I guess you would say mean things about them if your Pavlovian reflex would have been trained to that bastard #lol #don't mind my nonsense

[0alix0]

Aivela's curse (1/?)

link to AO3

parings: Arcann/Outlander (Female Jedi Consular)

warnings: Hanahaki AU (and every gruesome detalization that comes with it), enemies to friends to lovers (?)

It all started when she had escaped.

When the murderer of their former "immortal" emperor, the so-called outlander, is brazenly dragged out of the carbonite cell hidden in the bowels of the Spire. And then again right under his nose.

Chasing the stricken ship, he, together with Vaylin, ends up in the eternal swamps. Exactly where the Outlander fled off Zakuul. Even before completely landing on the surface, he is engulfed with uneasy feeling of déjà vu, and a terrifyingly familiar echo of the Force that beats in his head. It feels like a stain in the middle of the universe, like a black hole, pulling all living things into itself, and twisting them. An all too familiar feeling. And it is as if it's still here, just reach out.

The shuttle doors open and Arcann finally sees the ruined battlefield for himself. If it can still be called one. Crushed ground, with trees broken as if from a hurricane, and dozens of his skytroopers and knights trampled under layers of debris. Wrinkles appeared on his forehead, he clenched his metal hand till a creak came out of it. All, all because one single wave of jedi's hand.

It couldn't have been her power.

He touched his forehead as he reminisced about that day in the throne room. About the strange data from the crashed Sith ship, about the dispute between that jedi Outlander and his father, as if they knew each other, and about how the energy, torn from Valkorion after the fatal blow, rushed to the unconscious jedi like to a beacon enveloping her with it. He almost pitied her. Almost.

He did not waste the time of father's absence in vain. A crowd of outraged citizens, knights, even some scions, all wanted justice for the murder of their beloved emperor. Some wanted revenge. And Arcann wanted an explanations.

And already in a few days, the knights were already storming some of the distant bases of the Sith Empire. Cut their communicators, destroyed any holorecords of their presence, so that no one even knew who attacked them... they also collected data. About imperial hierarchicy, ancient Sith worlds, Dromund Cass, the destruction of Ziost. And about their missing sith emperor.

One of today's intruders can be almost certainly identified as a Sith, and it couldn't be just another coincidence. If this was truly someone who had come back here to set free the "reborn Emperor", if Valkorion had planned it... and Arcann knew he did, his father had always planned something he never spoke of to anyone... that Jedi is nothing but a meat puppet now, she's not a random soldier brought here by circumstance, it became obvious as soon as father suggested her place at his side, she's not a victim. She is a threat, just like Valkorion. To Zakuul. To him, to the only remnant of his family.

For your own damn good jedi, just sit in your fucking fridge.

"Your Highness," the senior lieutenant distracted him. "Permission to begin search..."

"Immediately!"

The squad of knights who arrived with him immediately began to clean off the debris, search for any remains or clues that could help them to define the intruders. Meanwhile the medical team resuscitates found knights who were injured by that force wave.

All around was gray and cold, completely opposite to how Arcann remembered. A zap of pain passes through the left arm, forcing him to grab onto the elbow, as if there was something to grab onto. Whether because of a sudden change in atmospheric pressure or a flash of memory, he could not tell. The rain drenches them all from head to toe, but, what is more important, the traces will soon be completely washed off the ground

"Izax damn them all." he grumbled to himself, clearing his throat. He wanted to leave... for practicality of course. He's hardly useful sick, and yet... something prevented him from leaving. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, the only thought that literally haunted him to leave spire, uncertainty or denial, something ghostly, maybe even sentimental... He didn't know how exactly he would know that Senya was truly there. Whether he simply overthought her presence on Gravestone then, in the throne room or... Not. Perhaps he hoped these feelings and her presence would waver away from his mind as soon as he'd arrived here. It didn't happen. Thoughts were fighting with one another and bright him no relief. It wasn't her. Yet someone had to tell the sith about the prison. It couldn't be her, she knew better than following the old bastard... But could it be that she follows the jedi?

Something in his chest feels squeezed  and for some reason it becomes difficult for him to take a breath. He feels a stinging bitterness on tongue. If it was her. And if she really is here... There! Side by side with some... outlander she never even met?

A dry and almost silent cough escaped his throat. No, that's enough of this nonsense.

He turned to Vaylin, she was standing a dozen steps away from him. Motionless, like a statue, she looked somewhere far away. He slightly touched her shoulder.

"There is no point in standing here for hours. You will only catch cold. Even if they left something here, it will most likely not..."

She. Was. Here. She helped that jedi escape. She helped him escape. Arcann tries to make a deep breath to calm himself but gets interrupted by another bout of quiet coughing.

Vaylin turns to him, eyes down, lips pressed, and reaches up her hand. A tiny block of wood rests on a thin palm. It's shaped like little Mawvorr's head... and looks exactly like the one some of them actually made for Senya decades ago.

He takes a carved figurine. Metal fingers brush over age-damaged surface, and anger starts to flare in his chest.  

"She lost it when we were little. Let's go home." his voice seems even more mechanical, hoarse, even considering the mask. Arcann returned her the figurine, pulled the cloak from his shoulders and silently threw it over Vaylin. She stood without movement, looking into small carved dots-eyes. Mawvorr slowly levitated from her palms and hanged in the air for a brief moment. A quick spark. Lightning discharges from both of her hands. The figurine burns within a few seconds, but it feels as if the deformation of small pointy face and the sizzle of the cracking wood and vaporized rain drops lasted just long enough to stuck in his head for next few days. Perhaps it's easier for her this was. Perhaps for him as well. Arcann claps her on the shoulder "Come on."

He takes his sister away from the swamps, from the thoughts that maybe their father is still alive, and even more so, that he is capable to return, that their mother didn't even thought twice before helping him... her.

In the recesses of his mind, he hopes that even if Valkorion's favorite was just unfortunately got caught in a crossfire of their mutual despise, it would be better if she just died without ever coming back.

When they return to the shuttle, his clothes are already sticking to his skin with the disgusting cold, and something begins to painfully itch somewhere in the depths of his throat. He mindlessly brushes it off as a hypothermia.

And only before bed he notices a tiny red stain in a corner of his lips and a metallic taste in mouth.

Petunia. Resentment and anger.

#arcann #Outlander #firiv #swtor #fanfic #ok the more i write the farther go from canon #sorry for trying to give characters actual motivation and not the MUAHAHA I WANT TO RULE THE WORLD nonsense #no 5 planets attack and other shit #don't wanna write two victims of abuse as psychopaths sorry must be something wrong with me #also arcann and outlander will probably have more interactions because i want and you can't do anything about it mate #english isn't my first language please don't kill me #probably will re edit it AGAIN tomorrow

[imagineamagicworld]

Give this poor spy baby a pay raise already

#Swtor #Star Wars The Old Republic #Theron Shan #The Outlander #I would be lying if I said this line delivery didn't live rent free in my head #It's just the way he repeats what the Commander just said in pure disbelief #The Outlander is 5'10 of pure audacity and nonsense #While we were playing Theron studied sarcasm and became the sass master #oc : Elias O'Hara (Imperial Agent) #I may or may not be going through KOTFE and KOTET again

[alteredphoenix]

Finished the Waking Shores campaign.

Fuck Sabellian.

Team Wrathion all the way.

#warcraft #dragonflight spoilers #no seriously wtf was sabellian for over a decade #it shouldn't have taken that long for the eggs to be purified #this guy's not dumb #he could not have sat on his ass in outland just to suddenly show up in neltharus #and nearly yeet the obsidian throne right from under wrathion's nose #'heir to neltharion' my ass - he had ALL THAT TIME to come back to azeroth #and now suddenly i'm supposed to look to him as the next aspect of the black dragonflight? #when i've been helping wrathion for just as long? #gtf outta here with that nonsense

[secretharmonystuff]

If I was Claire I wouldn't be so thrilled to go back to my own timeline, I mean Jamie ????

#i speak #outlander #im still in s1 #nonsense #but i mean #jamie fraser #id be there by choice

[imperaptorfuriosa]

just now realized that outlander has a gay best friend character. unsurprising but HILARIOUS to me

#i love outlander and all its crazy ass nonsense!!!!!!!! #ruth talks

[uplatterme]

alright, going to bed. sooo, here’s an aether thirst from yours truly!

—sub!bottom!aether, top!dom!amab!reader, consensual somnophilia, stomach bulge. needy aether w mischievous reader!

aether’s breathing stutters, feeling your chest on his back. it’s warm, and the closeness between you two is making his body heat up which puts the temperature he endures when fighting the pyro regisvine to shame.

he shouldn’t be feeling this hot, considering the fact that he’s not even wearing a shirt. the only thing covering him is his pants and his locks that gracefully flowed down his body.

aether should get away, that’s what the logical part of his brain says. unfortunately, his body seems to disagree.

to be fair, how could he? especially when he feels the way that your cock presses just right on his entrance, teasing him and driving the outlander insane.

god, he wants you. he needs you to make him a mess on the same sheets that you were sleeping on, to have him drool on the pillows as you push his head down on the cushion, muffling his screams, knowing you don’t like loud noises during nighttime.

the blonde carefully slips down his pants. he swears he’s not going to do anything out of line, even if you’ve said that this kind of thing was fine before.

he calms himself. technically, it’s less embarrassing since he didn’t have you spouting out utter nonsense in his ear about how he’s such a good boy, or sometimes, the degrading names you call him while pulling on his braid as if it was a leash.

that doesn’t stop the way his chest thumps heavily or his previously limp cock getting hard when you finally nudge yourself onto his bare skin.

he doesn’t do much. he only grinds himself on your sleeping body, rubbing your cock with his cheeks.

he just wanted to know what it felt like, that’s it. he’s satisfied.

aether cups his mouth as your hand lays on his waist, sitting there neatly.

…

he covers his face with his hands. all logical thoughts going out the window when he stretches out his rim with the tip of your cock.

“j-just the tip…” he whispers. right, no more than this. he’s already edging himself with humping on you earlier, anything more would be ridiculous.

he breathes deeply, trying to remain focused. his walls feel empty, but he’s not going to give in. this is fine, he tells himself.

he bites his bottom lip, stroking his own cock with your tip inside of him. he can finish on his own, he just needs to feel your warmth.

but as he does this, his whole body shrivels up when your arm on him tightens and you push yourself all the way in without warning, hugging him. the hand that he was using to jack off finds its way to his mouth, covering it as he lets out a silent scream.

you have somehow put your entire cock in, leaving him speechless from the action.

“oh god, oh god.” he utters, trying to be as quiet as possible.

he sees the way your cock outlines itself on his tummy and the mere sight of it is enough to make him burst.

he didn’t even prep himself that much. however, your sleepless body also acts like you when you’re awake, being as savage and ruthless when it comes to breaking him apart.

“no, no, no, no—” the outlander chants, he’s so close. he’s so fucking close that he doesn’t care anymore.

his body starts moving slowly. it’s hard to do this on his own when he’s so used to you doing it for him. still, he pushes through.

it’s as if his walls refuse to remove itself from your length, hugging your cock as tight as possible. how the hell do you even pound into him at such a speed?

his entire body is trembling. just a bit more to send him over the edge, please.

and as he thrusts himself at an abnormally slow pace, crying at the lowest volume he possibly can. he feels your fingers grab the sides of his waist and extract yourself before proceeding to push the entirety of your cock to the deepest part of him that he feels his body actually breaking.

“slut.”

your voice sends aether to an orgasm, his cock spilling as much as possible, his pants being ruined and his thighs quivering on yours.

his breathing skips, surprised at your movement and the way you degrade him. he wants to cry even more.

this is so embarrassing, how long had you been awake?

he flinches when your teeth bites on his neck, marking his tired body as he relaxes from his orgasm.

“since you pulled your pants off. you’re not exactly discreet, nor can i ignore the way you whimper like a pathetic whore.” you answer, as if you knew exactly what he was going to ask.

he flushes red at that, looking deeply into your eyes, shame disappearing wholeheartedly from his vocabulary.

“m-more?” aether stammers out.

“of course, sweetheart.” you kindly obliged.

#sub genshin impact #dom reader #dom!reader #sub genshin #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #plattered writings #sub aether #sub!aether #aether x reader

[homunculus-argument]

Your post a couple days ago about reading things you acknowledge as silly nonsense and not the Height Of Intellectual Literature, and letting yourself enjoy it anyway, unearthed a memory for me that I just. I'm sorry, I just need to share this.

So, there was a phase I had, years ago now, where I for some reason ended up somewhat regularly reading James Bond books whenever I was in the mood for something light and kinda dumb but entertaining to read (I was reading Outlander and A Song of Ice and Fire at the time as well, never finished either of those series tho, so I kinda ended up reading lighter stuff in between those long books to relax and let my brain take a breather if that makes sense). I honestly couldn't tell you which books I read, and it wasn't in any particular order, it was sort of like, starting with whatever my dad had in the shelf and then continuing with whatever the library happened to have. Some of what I read were the original ones written by Ian Fleming, some were by later authors. Idk, point is, it was light spy-adventure nonsense I read when I didn't have the energy to think too deep about what I was reading.

Sorry about how long I took to get to the point, but, anyway. There was this one James Bond book I picked up mostly because hehe suomi mainittu. Not by Fleming, one of the later authors, I remember neither the author name nor the book name and can't be assed to google it rn. Anyway, a fair amount of the plot of that book took place in Finland. I could not say for the life of me what the actual plot of it was, just that part of it was set here. I remember like exactly two details about it, and both of those I only remember because I thought they were funny back when I was reading it.

One of those details was that there was a bit of Bond's internal monologue at some point that was just him basically being a whiny bitch about the fact that he thought the sort of thick winter clothes you need for Finnish winters didn't make him look sexy

The other is that there was a scene where the baddies tried to kill him by ??? crushing his car (while he was driving on some little road somewhere in the middle of nowhere) between two lumiauras??? like i just. that seems like a highly impractical way to attempt to kill anyone, but sure (ja sori siitä et mä en ny suoraan muista et mikä helvetti lumiaura on englanniks, mut sä ny puhut suomee kuiteski)

Idk you talking about silly stuff in books just unearthed this memory for me, no idea why, and i just needed to share it with someone

It's a snow plough. The english word for lumiaura is snow plough. Also that mental image is hilarious.

[girlwithamissingpearl]

I understand things have been dry in Outlander land but even desert dry has me smh. Ladies, if you have to try that hard to shit all over SH, I’m not saying it makes you a hater but it sure as shit doesn’t make you a liker.

Back after a bit- admit it, we all need to occasionally take a break- I feel I needed to pace myself during the drought. But after a bit of scrolling, I felt compelled to dive right in. Isn’t this fandom about fun, entertainment and guilty pleasure? That’s why I’m here. So why the endless posts from the SH haters? Do people dislike SH, enjoy the snark or just think the man is stupid?

So just for fun (or insomnia) I thought I would play a short game of SH: Stupid, Smart or just SMH?

1. SH and Cons/Private events for $

Why do people have such a problem with SH trying to make a living? Most if not all actors part of a series or movie franchise participate. In my opinion SH is doing it now, so he won’t need to in his 60’s to pay the rent. While most fans are priced out of the more exclusive events, all I can say is the paying fans are the only ones that never complain. Supply and demand. If any charitable component is part of the deal, great. So can we finally put a line under this?

Verdict: Smart as hell

2. SH always “Shilling” SS to his Fans and on SM

Uhm, he is the brand. It’s his company. Can it be a bit much? Yes. Promotion to the fan base and the use of sm is marketing 101. In order for people to try the product they need to know about the product. We can disagree as to his methods or success to date, but fans are not the only ones buying bottles. As for the constant and consistent presence of AN with SH during events? Suddenly they are a couple? WTF. AN is a business partner. He owns part of the business. They both work hard promoting SS, and so far it looks like they will continue to release more SS. Ladies, don’t put your lawn chairs away yet!😉

Verdict: Smart

3. SH and boundaries with his fans

Regardless of the letter you attach to SH, he is a recognized actor around the world. Definitely a people pleaser, in imho, he will happily take a selfie with anyone. Obviously, he never wants to disappoint any fan, but his lack of boundaries and security at events can be cringe worthy at times. If a female actor was touched, mauled, or asked to sign fans boobs or t-shirts it would be a #me too moment. Someone, anyone in security or a handler needs to be bad cop if he won’t. How far is too far?

Verdict: Stupid with a side of SMH

4. SH as a Philanthropist and Charitable Causes

This one really bugs me. MPC has raised over $6m for charity. SH’s name attached to any cause raises awareness and $. The BS from the haters who discount this based on the fact SH apparently never donates his own money is petty nonsense. Gentleman’s ride is one example. Agree it was his female fans that made it happen. And? This is my only fandom but SH is held to an impossible standard. Apparently he is a hypocrite in his support for clean oceans because someone on his team had a catered lunch using single use plastics. Great topic for discussion, but the man didn’t throw the containers in the ocean. Also let’s not judge a person’s commitment based on sm posts. SH can literally, yes ladies literally never win. Thankfully the causes he supports do. I dare you to disagree.

Verdict: Smart

5A. SH’s dating life

According to an extremely ardent part of this fandom, SH has dated😉 every fit blonde 👱‍♀️ within a 250 mile radius of everywhere. I wish that someone would keep track of all the mysterious initials and lack of any literal proof of these women. This is where I separate the snark from the hater’s. While I’m in owe of the investigative skills of some, and enjoy the gossip-even though mom thought gossip was a sin, sorry mom- not all women aka initials welcome the attention. Any woman save CB that SH is remotely warranted or not attached to, has an avalanche of hate comments and 💩emoji in their future, welcome or not. Personally, I believe SH, goes out of his way to protect the people he cares about, and perhaps even those he may not. I think we can agree he is not a monk. However an actor is entitled to privacy. Ginger Jesus included.

5B. SH ‘s Sexuality

From the beginning, 3 years for me, I’ve read posts about someone who knew a friend of a friend of a bartender’s friend who knew for a fact SH had a boyfriend. WTF. You know the drought is real when this bullshit gets recycled. We all know the question has been asked and answered by SH. More than once. Next.

Verdict: SH keeping his private life private: Smart as hell.

6. SH and the use of all things Outlander related

If you don’t get it, I don’t have the time and am too lazy to explain it to you.

Verdict: Smart. Smart as hell

7. SH and CB

The only real problem here is obvious. And I don’t know why the fans or even the haters- btw, I use the term haters like I do profanity- perhaps not the best word, but like GFY, FU, MF, C, etc. I’m lazy and it saves time and no confusion to whom I address. So where the actual f&ck is the audition tape we all want to see? You know the part of which I speak. If only the fandom investigators could put aside any petty differences and uncover the SH, CB chemistry kiss tape? I’m not saying it will be a unifying and CTJ moment, but it would give SH fans something to make the drought less….thirsty.

No verdict necessary. 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨😚😉

And last but definitely not least…

8. SH and Thirst Traps

Ladies, because of Outlander and all things Outlander related, we’ve had the pleasure to observe SH from every view and lovely angle. Come on, if you 👀 closely it’s all there. Why the actual f&ck people in this fandom have a problem with his shirtless posts is beyond me. Not only is he promoting the results a good fitness regime can produce, he is literally, yes literally giving his fans something they want. And don’t even try me with- you’re treating him like an object. This is a 100% consensual relationship. And if the word “hater” seems harsh about the same gang that complains and shits all over his shirtless thirst traps, then please find me a better name.

Verdict: Smart as hell and thank you

So for those who may not get it, this post is silly and something for my handful of friends or any SH fan to have a laugh. If anyone has the patience to read the entire thing😉 So any comments are welcome, but to the people or person sending awful and cowardly anon messages: save your time. Or GFY. See what I did there?🤓

#outlander #outlander season 7 #sam cait #sam heughan #sassanach #men in kilts #men in kilts 2 #waypoints #clanlands

[bestjeanistmonster]

Oz au- Shadow knows this story so he’s immediately going to try and skip all the nonsense and robs the dead witch he crushed with his house all while Cream is just like “uh mr outlander i rlly don’t think you should be taking that-“

#art #drawing #doodles #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sth #sonic fandom #sonic fanart #digital art #sonic the hedgehog fanart #sonic au #sth au #sth art #digital aritst #sth fanart #oz au #wizard of oz au #shadow the ultimate lifeform #shadow fanart #shadow the hedgehog #shadow sth #cream the rabbit fanart #cream sth #cream the bunny #cream the rabbit

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

Mosaic

kaeya/gn!reader

genre: hurt/comfort, teensy angst, fluff

warning(s)!!!: hydro-vision/polearm-user reader (bc i said so), kaeya word vomits all over the place, kaeya also becomes self-aware of feelings and Dislikes that, kaeya also makes some poor choices in leu of those feelings, all is well in the end tho! he learns (and cries) (tayls is pushing the pathetic crybaby kaeya agenda and cannot be stopped)

w.count: 8.7k

synopsis: kaeya is none the wiser to the people around him and what it is they think about him- he didn't get his title of 'top candidate for grandson in law' for nothing. however, he never thought he'd get so swept up in his own feelings that when he does, he decides he has to put a stop to them no matter the cost. but can he really follow through with that?

a/n: i love when tumblr nerfs my banner quality but it's whatever. have some kaeya nonsense (fr take this away from me)

“A mosaic.” 

That was your answer to a question Paimon and the Traveler asks while you were meandering around the Favonius Library looking for a book you needed for some personal research. They had run into you there and a conversation about what some citizens of the City of Freedom embody had sprung up somehow. For example, Paimon was very set on saying that Master Diluc was a rock- set in his ways and tough to budge- and so on from there.  The ideas and objects tossed around were anywhere between insightful and downright silly. 

So, it was inevitable that eventually the trio would cycle around to the Knights. Jean was dubbed a Dandelion according to the Traveler and Lisa was crowned as an elegant bookmark that was so sharp it would cause terrible papercuts. Of course, Lisa’s object was picked ever so gracefully by Paimon even if it didn’t make much sense she was set on her answer, and nothing would change her mind. Then, when the personification of one Kaeya Alberich came around, admittingly the two Outlanders were stumped.  

Kaeya would always peruse around with such an air of mystery. Keeping important aspects of himself tucked so far away that very few people knew of his secrets- and they were tight lipped for their own reasons.  His smooth tongue aided him greatly whenever someone would ask about himself personally- spinning tales and weaving verses that got him out of any sort of personal interrogation. 

The trio knew if they asked Diluc, he’d give a short and possibly crude answer.  Jean would probably give him some illusion of not being sorted into such games and Lisa would just think you three were adorable and not give her two cents at all. You, however, thought on it for a bit longer and finally had an answer. 

“A mosaic?” Paimon mimicked, making sure her voice was kept down in the sanctuary of books. “Like the artwork?” 

“He is good looking,” Traveler pitched and it was true. Even people with aged or poor working eyes could see Kaeya was far from being an ugly man. 

“I don't see how him being a little ‘good looking’ is deserving of the title of being a piece art!” You chuckle at Paimon’s small fit of confusion. 

“Well, ignoring his looks, a mosaic is a piece of work that is made of small pieces right? It isn’t whole until it’s all put together. Just like a puzzle.” 

“So, he’s a glorified puzzle?” 

“That isn’t what I meant,” you shake your head in a small chuckle. You take a small trip to another corner of the library and run your fingers along the spines of different books before you grab one and easily slide it out of its spot on the shelf.

It’s a book on different types of art. Flipping the pages you find a page with a drawn on copy of a mosaic from another country. You lay it down on a nearby table and tap the drawing with your fingertip. 

“What I meant was the process of becoming a mosaic- how it’s created.” you trace the empty spaces of white on the page where the piece of the drawn on piece were supposed to connect to create a bigger piece. “Various pieces of work all put together to make one big picture. A series of events leading to a grand conclusion of hardwork and patience. Maybe it took a lot of time and work. Sometimes creating such a piece was so frustrating at times you wanted to give up, or maybe sometimes nothing looked right. But, by the end of it all- it couldn’t be anything but a wonderful representation of all those struggles.” 

Paimon floated in awe at your explanation and the Travelers playfully placed their hands on their hips as they looked at you. 

“You sure think highly of Kaeya, don’t you?” 

“It’s that noticeable, huh?” You chuckle a tad embarrassed. Your long-standing puppy-crush on Kaeya you’ve had since you met him wasn’t always the best hidden secret. In fact, you were almost positive that the Cavalry Captain himself knew you had a thing for him, but you were happy he never cornered you about it. 

“You’re a love-struck citizen alright,” Paimon rushed to the Traveler’s side in making slight jests at you. You shut the book you had used to try and explain your choice of object and rubbed the back of your neck as you ignore the warmth in your face. 

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” You turn on your heel and walk back to the shelf to replace the book. Paimon had cupped a small hand around her chin before she was floating over to your side and asking you another question. 

“So, if Kaeya is a mosaic, then who’s his artist?” You look at her and blink a few times, processing what she was asking. You didn’t expect a question like that.  You cup your own chin in thought and after a moment, you laugh at being caught off guard.  

“I hadn’t thought of that.  I guess maybe Mondstadt itself? It is where all his friends and family are after all. Oh, and his job of course.” 

“That makes sense,” Paimon muses, seemingly satisfied with your answer. The conversation had moved from the shelves to the open space of the library and soon out the doors. As the three of you left, the topic of objects to people shifted to one of getting some food into Paimon’s ever empty stomach. 

The book you had previously replaced back on the shelf was easily slid back out by a hand adorning open finger gloves. Taking a relaxed seat at a nearby table, he flipped to the very page you had been on before and looked at the image himself with a small huff that twisted into a quirk of his lips. 

“How interesting,” he muses before reading the whole installment about that specific piece of art. After all, how could he not? 

The next morning was quick to roll around. After a hearty meal at the Good Hunter and pleasant good nights exchanged with the Traveler and Paimon, you were more than ready to head back home to rest. After a swift debrief on the commissions set aside for you today, you move out of the way and off to the side so you could flip through the four pages of individual commission information. 

A typical site clearing of hilicurls, a balloon transport, and two other sites said to be infested with abyss mages and mitacurls. Taking a deep breath and letting it out in the form of a heavy sigh, you roll your neck and shoulders. It looked to be a very physical day, considering the commissions alone were already enough, they were hardly close in range to each other.  

“My, what does this sunny morning lack that is making your shoulder’s slack so much,” the familiar voice of the ever lingering person on your mind spoke. Lowering your commissions and offering him a greeting smile, you watch as Kaeya marches his way down the stone steps of Mondstadt to you. 

“The weather has nothing to do with it, I'll have you know.” When he finally gets to your sides, he silently offers his hand out for your daily commission sheets. You hand them over and resume your small effort of stretching. His eyes quickly scan sheet after sheet before he’s clicking his teeth and shaking his head.  

“Having your run all the way to Stormbearer, to Windrise, down to Springvale and then back up to Wolvendom is just cruel.” The way his voice has that familiar lithe to it, you knew he only half meant what he said. 

“Maybe I’ll get lucky and run into the Traveler who can do me a favor by hitching me a ride on a Waypoint.” You quickly take your commissions back and fold them down twice before storing them away in your pack. Watching the sun’s orange morning hue fade into its daylight yellow was tell enough that you had to get moving or else you’d be rushing to get your work done. Kaeya walked you to the city gate and even across the bridge before you were ready to set off.  

This is practically routine. You weren’t sure when it started, but at some point, Kaeya had started meeting you at the Adventurer’s Guild after receiving your daily commissions and would insist on escorting you out of the city. He claimed it was on the way of his morning walk to stretch his legs, but you weren’t sure how much you believed him. You allowed him to do it anyway since it always set up a good start to your day. 

Getting a small amount of Kaeya’s time was something you would relish since you never wanted to impede on his busy schedule with the Knights. It was the small selfish part of you that wanted to capitalize on this so-called ‘alone’ time that lasted only a small piece of the day. 

“Be careful,” Kaeya always tell you and you always nod back to him a simple ‘I will’ before he would watch you disappear down the worn, dirt paths. Your first destination would be Stormbearer Mountain it appears. 

Most of Kaeya’s morning consisted of going over documents shoved on him courtesy of his position as one of the ten Captains within the knight’s ranks.  With sighs echoing in his private workspace every few minutes and multiple tempting ideas of sneaking out without even processing the paperwork, he finally finished and approved the last document before placing it in a file on his desk that Jean would surely come and snag from him later. 

Leaning back in his chair that would soon need the cushions replaced, he craned his neck to gaze out the tall window in his office.  The sun was much higher in the sky than it was when he had arrived earlier that morning.  His thoughts easily drifted to you and a frown found its way onto his lips. 

“Are you doing alright?” Kaeya delicately asked to the air of solitude around him.  You were more than capable to handle yourself.  In truth, if you weren’t already associated with the Guild and kept so busy by them, Jean probably would’ve scouted you for the Knights instead.  ‘Your skills are impressive, and the others could learn a lot from you’, that’s probably what Jean’s pitch would be. All true of course, sometimes the job of trying to train the lower ranking knights was more of a chore than a duty, once Kaeya would often get stuck with.

He'd be more than happy to spar with you instead any day.  

Steering his gaze away from the window and moving it towards the ceiling, he traced the wooden beams above him with his single visible eye. He sighed again- this time not because of his now finished paperwork. 

“Surely, they’d be in Windrise by now… right?” His fingers drummed against the arm of his chair before he was bringing his chin back down to lock onto his office door.  His paperwork was done, so maybe…

Two knocks rapped against the thick door and Kaeya’s posture straightened out of habit. A muffled ‘Captain?’ heard behind it.  He let his head sink as a small, defeated breath left his open mouth before correcting himself again. 

“You can come in,” he answered.  Guess his plans to sneak away were once again foiled. 

By the time Kaeya made it out of HQ it was already late into the afternoon.  Stretching after stepping foot out of the large entrance, he stepped down the short set of stone steps before making his way towards the front of the city.  You must be back now, or close to the city at the very least.  It had been almost the whole day, if you weren’t back yet he’d simply go on an unprompted adventure to ‘bump into you’. Luckily, there you were; standing in front of the Guild and talking to Katheryne once again. Although, the look of you was less than encouraging. 

While you yourself seemed more or less fine, just from the distance between the top set of steps by Good Hunter to you at the Adventurer's Guild Reception, he could tell your commissions had worn you out today. It was no wonder considering the distance between them. Your clothes had clearly been fixed prior to you reentering the city since the dirt and stains on them were a clear indicator that you had your fair share of roughing up. 

Kaeya can, and did mostly, dismiss this all, however.  It was the serious look on Katheryne’s face and the way yours didn't show relief after a hard day's work like it normally would be. He started making his way towards you and started catching bits of the conversion you both were having. 

“I deeply apologize, y/n, but it’s an Emergency Commission we just received.” The way Katheryne’s voice was coated in tension made Kaeya’s pace harden. When he had arrived at your side, his hand came up to rest on your back without his notice as he looked at the way you held your head in your hand like you were preventing an oncoming headache. 

“What’s the problem?” Kaeya made it a point to look at you- directing the question at you and not Katheryne. Your hand dropped and you sighed with a shake of your head before looking at him. 

“It’s nothing, just a last-minute Commission.”

“What? You just got back from your commissions, didn’t you?” 

“It’s an Emergency. I can’t just brush it off.” 

“Make someone else take it then.” 

“No one else is available.” 

“y/n.” 

“Kaeya.” 

The small verbal battle you both engaged in was empty and Kaeya knew he was playing a losing game. He let out a sigh before he finally turned to look at Katheryne who must have all the patience in the world for standing by and letting you both bicker until she was needed for something. 

“What is the commission exactly?” 

“Apparently, a Ruin Guard has been spotted near Springvale after a passing Adventurer accidentally triggered its detection sensors. The nearby residents are frightened it could march into someone’s territory and wreak havoc there.” 

Kaeya pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand- the other still mindlessly resting on your back- as he sighed.  This is indeed something that couldn’t be pushed off for someone else to take. When it comes to those old machines, who knows what could happen if they aren’t swiftly deactivated. The Captain was at an impasse; letting you go after already being exhausted from running around all day or tying you to one of the Guild’s posts and keeping you there until someone else passed by that Katheryne could snag instead. 

“Fine,” Kaeya relented.  His hand finally dropped from your back and crossed with his other arm over his chest. “I shall accompany you then.” He saw you open your mouth- probably to protest- but he didn’t let you. “Ah-ah,” he tutted at you, “no arguments. Let’s get moving.” He uncrosses his arms to grab your shoulders, spin you around and lightly push you to get your legs moving. 

Luckily, Kaeya’s vision was extra compatible with your own. While your fight styles were different, the fact you had a hydro vision was very much a blessing. It was quiet easy work taking down a Ruin Guard that had been drenched in water then subsequently frozen. After picking up a few dropped items from the timeless machine, Kaeya had stood up and placed his hands on his hips as if proud of himself. 

“Aren’t you happy I decided to tag along now? We made quick work of that Ruin Guard.” 

You can only roll your eyes at the smoothtalker.  Still, you quietly laugh at his antics all the same. Finally calling it a day in the middle of the field you had previously battled in with him, you lay down on the grass.  You were already covered in sweat, dirt and other stains from your earlier commissions, so getting a little more on your clothes wasn’t a concern. You shut your eyes and took in the breeze you silently thanked Lord Barbatos for as you took in a deep breath, letting yourself decompress. 

Kaeya stood over you, moving so his boots were on either side of your head and he was looking down at your relaxing face.  With your eyes closed, you didn’t get to see the smile that was only ever present when you weren’t looking.  The moment your eyes would open, you would only see his normal everyday grin. And open your eye did and oh how lovely they were. The evening glow did wonders for their color. 

Evening. Yes, it is getting rather late now. 

“Are you ready to head back now?” He asked and you nod. Sitting up, Kaeya offers to carry you back to the city on his back- which you decline. That didn’t stop the fact that you reentered Mondstadt securely resting on Kaeya’s back as he held you up with a slight bend to his posture and firm grip on your legs. 

This routine would continue for as long as Kaeya’s luck would allow.  He’d be the first to see you in the mornings before being the one to walk you out of the city and if he was lucky, he’d be the first to greet you back (not including Katheryn). 

If Kaeya was lucky he would greet you back into the city and spend more time at your side.  Reporting in with you to the Guild. Running a few errands like stopping by to purchase things from Blanche or getting your polearm enhanced or repaired at the smith. 

If Kaeya was lucky, he would persuade you into getting dinner with him or dropping by the Cat’s Tail for some casual TCG matches when he was off duty. 

If Kaeya was lucky, the conversation between you both would be flowing well enough that even if there was nothing left to do, he’d be privileged enough to walk you home or come inside to continue occupying your time until you fall asleep or push him out the door saying that he had to get up for work in the morning. 

Today was not Kaeya’s lucky day.  When he got up this morning, his routine to finding you was practically ingrained in his muscles and when he didn’t see you at the stone steps, city gates or the Guild’s reception, confusion crossed his brows.  He casually took a seat on one of the nearby outside stools by the Cat’s Tail and waited until the time to clock in at HQ was growing closer.  With hesitation, he got up and looked around for you once more just to see if maybe he could at least catch a glimpse of you rushing around to get a (rather late) start to the day. 

He was antsy all day and he was astonished to find out that throwing a wrench in his morning threw off his day so much. Kaeya knew that seeing you first thing in the morning was quite a lovely way to start his day, but he didn’t know the extent in which it could affect the rest of it.  Not exchanging a good morning with you or even saying his usual ‘be safe’ message at the edge of Mondstadt nagged at him.  

Currently, he was sitting in a remote corner of the Favonious library, legs crossed as his rear was sat towards the front of the seat to make up for the fact his back was bent over the back of it.  He rests a flimsy, paperback book over his face, the pages scent of old paper and ink invaded his nose and the feeling of them rubbed against his cheeks. One of his hands held it open with his thumb and pinky and the other arm was hanging uselessly at his side, his wrist bouncing against his vision from time to time just for something to interact with. 

Underneath the book, his eye was closed.  He had tried reading the passages in this particular book at least four times now, but the words just weren’t registering in his mind, so he had given up. He was left listless; certain he could easily fall asleep in this very position at any given time. Of course, it wasn’t often that Captain Kaeya would get much quiet time to himself anyways. 

“Uh, what are you doing?” The voice of Paimon made Kaeya’s eye open under the book before he was pulling it down his face enough to only reveal that one eye.  Seeing Paimon floating at the Traveler’s side made him slip the book off his face completely and shut it before setting it on the table in front of him. His posture was corrected as he sat up straighter and rolled his neck. 

“Couldn't you tell? I was reading.” 

“Paimon think’s you were slacking off.” 

“Is that what it looked like?” He jokes as he pushes his chair back and stands up properly before placing one of his hands on his hips. “I would never be caught slacking off, you wound me.” 

“We’ve heard that before,” Paimon sighs with a shake of her head.  In the moment, Kaeya is reminded of the conversation he overheard before between you and the other two. The same time of day, the same location, the same two participants of that conversation. 

“Say,” he says to gain both of their attention, “what do you think it is?” Kaeya’s exceptionally broad and unprecedented question left the two Outlanders confused. The way the Captain could almost see materialized question marks float around their heads was comical before he elaborated. “I’m asking about my artist, of course. Surely you must have your own idea, no?” 

Both Traveler and Paimon’s mouth opened in shock.  

“You were listening?!” Paimon shrieks before she is shushed by other people in the library for her volume. 

“It’s rude to eavesdrop, Kaeya,” Traveler tells him as they cross their arms over their chest.  Kaeya fakes a gasp before shaking his head and shrugging with his arms up. 

“Eavesdropping? Why, I’d never.” He dropped his arms back to his sides. “I was simply in the area and didn’t want to interrupt such a compelling conversation topic. That would’ve been quite rude of me, wouldn’t you agree?” The looks he received were easily brushed off. “Anyway, you didn’t answer my question.” 

“Well,” Paimon started, “didn’t y/n say it would be Mondstadt?” 

“And? Do you agree with them?” 

“Paimon doesn’t see a reason why not,” she shrugs in the air. 

“I see,” Kaeya’s arm crosses over his chest before he’s resting his opposite elbow on it to cup his chin. His gaze shifts downward before he's blinking slowly, meaningfully. “I suppose I could give you half marks.” 

“Half marks?!” Paimon whispers. 

“What about ‘the people of Mondstadt?’” The Traveler interjects.  Kaeya’s eye shoots back to them and his hand drops from his chin to resume a casual stance. 

“That assumption is largely correct as well.” The smile he gives the two gives nothing away. It wasn’t clear if he was sincere about what he said or if he was just saying it to hear himself talk. “A mosaic is usually a large piece, yes? It would make sense for there to be multiple people taking part in such a project at some point I suppose.” 

“You suppose? You’re just running us in circles here!” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Kaeya deflects with a lighthearted tone and short laugh. 

“Fine! We get it!” Paimon huffs before the conversation devolves into little to nothing until he is parting ways with the two, leaving the library and ready to end the day that seemed to have lasted longer than usual. Despite having a rather lax day, he felt lethargic. 

Yet, despite his lethargy, when he finally made it out of his day clothes and into his bed, all he could do was lay on top of his covers and stare at the ceiling. His eyepatch had been removed- just as always when he was in the confines of his home- and his long bangs covered the eye that was always so accustomed to the darkness.  One of his legs was propped up on the mattress with the other stretched out and his arms were folded behind his head. 

His mind was curious about a number of things all the time- so his racing thoughts weren’t unknown to him. Still, the nagging feeling in the back of his mind didn’t let up. Was not seeing you at all really that much of a clog in his daily life? It made him feel so off-set and that alone was enough to plant a seed of anxiety in his chest. 

Kaeya sighs to himself and his ceiling before rolling to his side and letting his bangs slip across his face and reveal his always concealed eye between the blue strands. He closes his eyes and wills his mind to stop dwelling on menial things. 

Heart and mind are difficult things to cooperate with one another though. 

Kaeya Alberich couldn’t risk getting mixed up in too many personal things- it made his future even more murky and daunting than it already was.  

After that one day of missing seeing you out before your commission, Kaeya tried to do it less on purpose. Maybe that was a message from the gods themselves that he needed to take a step back. If your very presence could affect his day to day life like it had, he needed to back off for his sake and yours. And while he didn’t see you off, he still would welcome you back any chance he saw you return to the city with a raised hand he would immediately tuck away again. 

“I didn’t do anything to make you upset, did I?” Of course, you had noticed his sudden shift in nature. 

“Of course not,” he tells you as sincerely as he could. His smile was strained on his lips and his nose felt like twitching from the sheer effort it took just to pull them up. From the unamused look you gave him at his answer, he knew you knew he wasn’t being completely truthful. Still, you just looked away from him and sighed. Kaeya was grateful you didn’t push the issue because a part of him was sure if you had, he would’ve spilled his guts about things he wasn’t sure of himself just yet. 

The process of slowly taking steps away from you wasn’t pleasant for either party. Kaeya’s days had devolved into nothing but more boring paperwork and patrols he could do with his eye closed, and that would mean seeing nothing at all. The dull lag of the daytime was boring to him with nothing to do between his job and downtime he suddenly had. The Angels Share's atmosphere was a welcome comfort to his new, unpleasant routine- though, he could do without the looks from Diluc.

Meanwhile, you had felt the sting of dejection in your chest. You had come to the assumption that maybe Kaeya had finally taken action on your unspoken feelings for him and was politely telling you to take a hike. It was logical to you; a common everyday Adventurer probably couldn’t make it work out with one of the Knights’ Captains. His previous time spent with you was probably just a hindrance, a distraction from his real work, so this was good. He could focus on what was important, protecting Mondstadt. 

Though, that mental pep talk didn’t make it hurt any less. 

Just like Kaeya, you decided to bury yourself in your work. Taking commissions on top of any other field requests. Clearing hilicurl camps wasn’t something difficult and while the occasional Abyss Mage was a pain, it was all manageable. So, when your back to back jobs kept you out of the city for days at a time, that slowly became the norm for the citizens of Mondstadt. 

It was only natural for no one to notice. 

“Has it really been that long?!” Kaeya had been passing through the central square of Mondstadt when he heard the familiar shrill of Paimon. His interest took little to be piqued and he easily strut his way over. “And no one has tried looking for them yet?” Paimon and the Traveler were stuck in a conversation with Katheryne as is the norm for them nowadays when their travels bring them back to the City of Freedom. “Oohhh,” Paimon worries, “Paimon’s worried.” 

“What’s the problem,” Kaeya interjects into the conversation. All eyes shift to him, his easy strides coming to a stop when he fully joins the group with his arms crossing over his chest. “My, what’s with all the long faces?” 

“Kaeya!” Paimon screeches. “Oh, maybe you’ll know! Have you seen y/n around?” Kaeya’s chest tightens. 

“Y/n? I’m afraid we’ve both been too wrapped up in our own duties recently. Sorry to disappoint.” The slight light of hope Paimon dawned dimmed and worry once again took over her features. The tension in his chest felt tighter, like a white-hot coil was entangling itself around his insides and replacing his ribcage. “Has something happened?” He asks slowly, making quite sure his voice doesn’t crack or waver. All his hard work to distance himself from you can’t unravel now; not when you aren’t even here. 

“We aren’t sure,” Katheryne fills in.  All eyes look to her as she repeats what she had just told the duo before Kaeya arrived. “Y/n had taken a rather dangerous commission the other day. It was a job that required them to explore and investigate some ruins that had been discovered behind a wall of rocks on Stormbearer. The commission should’ve well run its course by now, but we haven’t heard back from either the client or y/n, so some of us are beginning to worry.” 

Kaeya’s fists clenched, but no one took notice of them under his cross-armed stance. He made sure to keep his face from giving himself away. 

“Have you made the issue known to the Acting Grand Master?” He questions. Katheryne shakes her head. 

“No, we haven’t. We had had planned on bringing it to her attention if y/n still doesn’t get in touch with us by this evening.” 

“We should let Jean know right now!” Paimon insists and the Traveler easily nods in agreement. “What if they’re stuck in the ruins. Or- or hurt or something!” Paimon’s worry bleeds easily into her words like a fresh wound into water. 

“The last thing we should do is panic,” Kaeya said hypocritically. His gut felt like a boiling cauldron with panic as the main ingredient. Still, his many years of being persuasive and aloof didn’t let any of that show. 

Though, the off hand look the Traveler shot him made him doubt himself; they’ve been awfully diligent when it comes to reading him ever since his wild goose chase he sent them on not long after they arrived in Mondstadt. Or maybe it was just because they had more experience than he initially thought. Still, it almost made him squirm. 

“Well, we’re going to go tell Jean!” Paimon declared, her small hands on her hips as she bobbed up and down in the air. Kaeya just shrugs indifferently, surely not making any moves to oppose them. With a small huff, Paimon and the Traveler take off towards the Knights Headquarters. When they were well out of earshot and sight, Kaeya’s cross arms drop and his gaze moves to the ever-open gate that showed the wilds outside of Mondstadt. 

“Katheryne,” he almost whispers. “You said Stormbearer?” 

Your vision was blurred when you opened your eyes from your, albeit useless, slumber. You had long since tucked yourself between a small alcove of debris and rock in the ruins you had agreed to investigate. Had you known the person who had commissioned this job was some ruin machine-obsessed loon, you wouldn’t had agreed so easily. A couple ruin guards aren’t a big deal, but adding their mechanical brethren- so to speak- on top of a nut job maintaining them the moment you have to step away to recoup, that's when things get tricky. 

Your body had long since grown exhausted from using your Vision by excessively trying not to get killed. Luckily, the mad man only had his madness going for him, so hiding from his view was easy. Staying hidden from the machine’s censors was what worried you, but you had succeeded so far. Because of that very fact, however; you were reluctant to move. Beyond your weary body, hunger and thirst were starting to eat away at you too. 

Having been in hiding with no ample moment to even try fleeing back to the city for additional aid, you had run through what little rations you had. Your gut ached with hunger pains and your throat had never felt dryer, still you weren’t backed up against the preverbal wall so much you threw all caution to the wind. 

Your polearm had remained materialized as you kept it rested against your shoulder for ease of quick use should you require it.  Your vision had never felt heavier from its placement on your person and your hands cramped from how tightly you had gripped your weapon’s staff. You let your head fall back into the rock behind you and let out a silent sigh. 

In truth, you felt more foolish than injured or exhausted. You knew this commission sounded… odd, but you took it anyway. Anything to help distract your mind from the ever cloudy presence of Kaeya- or lack thereof. 

Your small sliver of respite you found in your cove of rock and debris was beginning to quake and crumble… literally. Your eyes you hadn’t realized had dropped back down shoot open and between the crumbling dust that threatened to get into them, you could hear the engines of machines whirring above you. You scramble to get out into the open before your previously, temporary safety could crush you. Though, coming out meant that you would be more vulnerable than you’d prefer. 

The moment your gaze lands on that familiar warm glow of the back of a Ruin Guard, you throw your polearm into its core, coating the blade with water from your Vision without much thought. The guard crackled with electricity as it malfunctioned and was brought to its metallic knees. Sprinting to its back to quickly retrieve your polearm, you made sure to use your Vision to drench its legs and feet just in case it got back up again. Perhaps the moisture would cause it to comically slip and buy you just a bit more time and maybe a chuckle or two. 

It was odd though, aside from the now jagged whirring of the jittering machine in front of you- there was nothing else. No crazed man trying to jump you or sick another random machine of his on you for whatever cause. It was in fact quiet, and that quiet put you on edge. Your brain knew you needed to stay on guard, but the silence was starting to lull your body into a false sense of security you couldn’t trust. 

Still, your mind that had been in fight mode for what should have been days now, had no chance against your weary body. Your grip on your polearm slips and the weapon clatters to the ground just before your knees did and your body slumped rather pathetically afterwards. 

‘If you fall unconscious, you’ll die’,  you mentally scold yourself. Trying to bully yourself into getting back up, keeping your eyes open, keeping your guard up. Still, your mind was beginning to feel as weak as your body. Thoughts swirled together into a mess of intangible words stuck in your mind and your sight was no better.  Perhaps it was your delirium and exhaustion, but your body suddenly grew cold and you vaguely felt goosebumps raise on your skin like winter itself had bloomed in these ruins with you. Among the changes you felt externally, you swore you heard a muffled voice too. 

Perhaps it was the mad man, the one who got you suckered into this stupid job. If it was, he could make quick work of you now since the last of your fight had disappeared taking out that Ruin Ruard core. The warmth you felt on your neck and cheek was the final thing you could mentally register before your body succumbed to its burdens.

‘Odd’, was the first thing that crossed your mind when you found yourself staring blankly up at a well maintained ceiling. You were sure that if you woke up again, and not gotten yourself killed or crushed, you’d be waking up to jagged rocks and mossy walls. So, the well furnished room you now occupied threw you for a loop- which your pounding head didn’t exactly take well. 

The room you were in was familiar, and you were sure you’ve been here before, but your foggy mind couldn’t process where you were.  The bed you were tucked into was soft and comforting, and with a wince the mattress gave when you push yourself to sit up. You were alone in the room and without much thought, you shuffle your legs out from under the blankets thrown over you to place your feet onto the floor and wobble up to your legs with the help of the bedside table acting as a- albeit less than desirable- crutch. 

The door creaking open was almost mistaken by you for the sound of your sore joints straightening out, as humorous as that was to you since you let a brief, lighthearted laugh escape you in a huff. Then, with your sights on the ground, you noticed a shadow casted by light you don't remember being in the room with you before. 

You follow the shadow along the hard floor covered with a single, purple rug until your eyes found a pair of all too familiar boots.  Your aching body starts to feel anxious- a small wave of gooseflesh running across your exposed skin at the idea of Kaeya being in your proximity for the first time in a while. Still, regardless of how you hadn’t been able to squash your silly crush on him or properly prepare yourself for a possible rejection without even confessing- you were no coward. 

With both hands tense on the bedside table, you raise your head to look at the blue haired man who had removed the fur, half-cape from his shoulder.  It was strange seeing how empty his shoulder was without the extra fluff the fur provided. Still, it was nice to see him in his entirety again since it had been a while. The blacklight of the space behind him made it difficult to see his expression since the lights in the room you had woken up in had been turned off presumably for your ease of comfort. 

“It’s been a while,” was the lamest thing that’s come out of your mouth in a while.

Of course it had been, you were both actively avoiding each other and practically the whole of Mondstadt picked up on it. Looking behind his shoulder you could only barely see corners of art pieces on the walls behind him and another rug that ran down the hall behind his heels.  “Kaeya, am I at your house?” You ask, finally realizing where you recognized your surroundings from.  

You’d been in his living room plenty of times visiting, but you had hardly been back in his room unless you were the one tasked with dragging him home from Angels Share and were generous enough to lug his body weight back to his bed. It was a rare occurrence since you were normally one to just dump him on the couch with a blanket and glass of water for his possible next morning hangover. 

Kaeya never graced you with an answer before he was marching into the room. His bootsteps seem louder than usual on his hardwood floors of his enclosed room, but maybe that was just the headache. His hands shoot out to grab your shoulders and turn you towards him, your hands that had been on the wooden night table were effectively removed from its surface and now Kaeya’s grip was the only crutch you had for balance before your brain could full calibrate standing without swaying again. 

“What on Teyvat were you thinking?!” He raised his voice and even in the dimly lit room with only light from the hall flooding in, you could easily see his expressions now. His brow was turned in a frown and his eye clouded with something you couldn’t pinpoint. It was a far cry from his normally suave and dismissive behavior. “Taking an obviously suspicious commission in ruins that hadn’t been officially investigated by the Knights? Seriously, you thought that was smart?!” 

His temper only made your headache worse and in turn soured your already not-so-great mood.  Reaching up to grab his arms like a hook for support, you verbally push back. 

“I think I'm capable of handling things myself, you know? The Guild doesn’t need the Knights’ to babysit them for every little thing, and as a member of the Guild that applies to me too!” 

“Oh yes, so capable you spontaneously disappear for days? Does that sound capable to you?” 

“It does actually because I was handling things just fine by myself, not that it makes a difference to you.” 

“You collapsed next to a Ruin Guard, y/n! What would you have done if it had restarted or if something else would have happened? Magically wake up and jump into battle again, because I have my doubts about that!” 

“What is your problem, Kayea?!” 

“You! You are my problem!” 

Astonished, you scoff before rolling your eyes.  It had been so long since you hashed it out like this with anyone, let alone Kaeya. It didn’t feel good, it made you feel sick to your stomach. Not hearing any retaliations from you, Kaeya guides you by the shoulders back against the edge of the mattress and pushes you to sit down again. You didn’t let yourself release the sigh of relief that you felt now that the weight of your own limbs was lifted- you wouldn’t give the Captain that satisfaction.

You expected him to let go of you, release your shoulders and march out of the room and maybe slam the door for good measure. Or maybe pace around the room before ordering you good enough to argue, so you would be good enough to get out of his hair. Out of the possibilities, the only thing that you predicted right was him releasing your shoulders. 

Kaeya's hands left your shoulders before sliding down your arms and dropping to the mattress edge on either side of you. You were stunned when he dropped to his knees in front of you and the pressure of his forehead resting on your knee felt heavier than anything. Caging you with his arms and using his head as an anchor on your legs he had effectively trapped you. You kept your hands tucked into each other by your stomach, making sure your knuckles wouldn’t brush even a strand of his hair and you could feel the thin strap of his eyepatch leaving an intent on your skin. 

“Kaeya,” you sighed heavily, his name leaving your lips like a weight. 

“I tried,” his muffled voice sounds weak that your gaze softens at the abrupt tone change. “I did. I tried to fix it, but my problem is still you and I can’t do anything about it.” 

“I have no idea what you’re-” 

“Tell me what to do.” His words that interrupt yours cause you to furrow in confusion. 

“What?” 

“Tell me what to do,” he repeats with a strained voice. “I have so many things I need to do, choices but I- I don't want to. So, do it for me.” 

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about. What does all that even mean?” 

“Make me choose you,” he sighs heavily before the hands of his that were placed on the mattress beside you move to lightly grab at your shirt like he was scared to touch you further. As if you’d push him away, scorn him for his actions and inactions alike. “Because I will. I just- I need someone- you, you need to-” His sentences never finish as his breaths become uneven. The hands that grip your shirt tighten to ball the fabric in his fists now. “I’m sorry.” 

Never had you seen Kaeya, the ever debonair Calvary Captain who kept all his secrets stored into his chest, kneel and subsequently crumble like this to anyone- much less to you. Perhaps in the past he never talks about, Diluc had seen him so weak, but that would be where the witness list ends. You lift your hands from your lap and hover them over his hunched body that clung to you like a child; you were unsure if touching him would set him off or if he would recoil from you. Your silence only made his hands that ensnared your shirt tug on the fabric like an anchor keeping a ship from sailing away. 

One of your hands reach to his head and your fingertips breach the blue tresses of his hair. His shoulders tensed and you almost snatched your hand away. 

“Don’t,” he mumbled into your leg. You weren’t sure if he was saying not to touch him or not to pull away. So, you kept your hand half in his hair and unmoving. 

You yelp when the tugging on your shirt flew into a harsh yank. The back of your knees that had previously been resting snug against the edge of the mattress were now well away with the back of your thighs replacing their spot. Closer to sliding right off the bed than comfortably sitting on it, Kaeya’s arms moved to wind around your waist and his face found a new home in your stomach as your arms hovered in the arm like a puppet's dangling from unused strings. 

You could feel the weight of his words fall onto your legs by way of the tears leaving his eyes. You could feel it in the way his shoulders shake and the uneven breaths that warms your lap through his mouth.

“Kaeya,” you softly start, “what has gotten into you? I've never seen you act like this before.” You slowly lower your arms and place your palms on his shoulders gently so as to not startle him; you weren’t going to keep them in the air forever, they’re sore. 

“I’m from Khaenri’ah, you know?” His voice strains as he lets out a pathetic laugh that’s damp with a web forming in his throat. He feels your hands on his shoulders twitch and his grip around you tightens so you have no chance of running from him. 

“Kaeya, what-” 

“My father abandoned me here with the intention of using me as a spy. I’ve only ever told Diluc, but when I did a lot happened and he left, abandoning me too. I don’t care about Khaenri’ah- not anymore- Mondstadt is my home. It’s where my friends are, my brother- even if he will never accept that role again. I can’t leave Mondstadt behind.” 

“I’m sure Diluc doesn’t hate you, not like you think. He just- he’s set in his stubborn ways and isn’t good at communicating.” You decide to speak only on his mention of Diluc, since the new information of the land in which he supposedly hails was still processing in your mind. 

Your previous comparison of Diluc to a rock briefly comes to mind at the mention of his stubbornnes. You nearly laugh at the thought, but now is definitely not the time.

“Please, please, make me choose you. Tell me to, order it of me, I don’t care. Just- don’t make me live without my artist. I can’t risk that again; I can’t take being abandoned again.” 

“Artist? Kaeya, what are you talking about?” You felt like you didn’t understand the words coming out of his mouth. 

There was a bout of silence after your question and the air felt heavy. You know Kaeya heard you, but he was reluctant to answer. Odd, considering the word vomit he had already coughed up in the last several minutes since he came into the room. Your hands start to move and lightly rub his shoulders over onto his neck, silently trying to coax him into talking more. 

“I heard what you said to the Traveler.” You almost roll your eyes because that could be literally anything. Does he know how often you get the chance to actually run into them and Paimon? He is just trying to dodge the question and by habit you lightly swat at his head. A silent, ‘okay smartass’ to keep him going in the right direction. He almost scoffs into your lap for that one. “You called me a mosaic.” Oh. “You told the Traveler that ‘Mondstadt’ is my artist; they said the ‘People of Mondstadt’, but only I know who my artist truly is.” His arms around you twitch and you could almost feel a stitch of pain in your side from how long he's been effectively squeezing you. “My artist is you. It’s just you.” 

The room is engulfed in a silence that feels heavy, yet... somehow also relieving. So much time recently had been the both of you dancing around the issues neither of you wanted to confront and all it took was you getting yourself into potentially mortal danger for days on end for the truth to come out. Kaeya knew you were someone important, but he didn’t realize just how heavy your permanent absence would be to him. Just the thought of possibly finding you in those ruins dead made his throat burn and ache like swallowing a ball of thorns. 

“Kaeya.” 

“I’m not lying,” his voice was strained, filled with fear of being labeled someone worthy of nothing. 

“I wasn’t going to say you are,” the hand that had previously tapped his head now rested on his nest of blue hair. The gentle strokes of your palm against his scalp were soothing as he felt your breath move your stomach against his head. “I don't see why you would lie to me right now.”  There was no doubt in your mind that everything that came out of his mouth was the unadulterated truth. You’ve never seen the suave captain bleed such vulnerability before. 

You didn’t say anything else to him after that. You move your hands to his arms, unwinding yourself from them before pulling him pathetically up onto his own bed. Not even bothering to fix your position, you fall back onto the mattress with your feet hanging off the edge and he easily follows you. From the lighting provided from the hall, you notice his eyepatch string had loosened from all his face hiding and you take it upon yourself to tighten it- securing it back where it belongs. Your fingertips linger around its material for but a moment before sliding down to his cheek.

His eye is brimmed with tears that had stained his skin with tracks and swelling. He also wouldn’t make eye contact with you, and you roll your eyes endearingly at his childish whims. With you both laying sideways on the bed, feet and legs hanging and not even a blanket to cover up with, your thumb run over his skin. Kaeya is quick to reach for and latch his grip delicately onto your wrist to keep it there. 

“‘M sorry,” he mutters again, sounding much more shy than he did before now that his face was in view of your gaze. You smile at him, knowing there was a long and meaningful talk in the near future. 

“I know. Go to sleep.” 

“But I-” 

“Artists' orders,'' you chortle. He just scoffs and offers his own eye roll, but his cheek warms under your palm. His eye closes and he let out a deep breath before taking one back in and repeating. 

“Stay until I open my eyes again.” 

“I will.” 

And you did. 

#kaeya x reader #kaeya angst #kaeya fluff #kaeya hurt/comfort #kaeya x y/n #kaeya alberich #genshin impact #genshin impact kaeya #kaeya comfort #kaeya fic #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact fic

[thebibliosphere]

Hello Joy! If you're up for it, I've got a question for you. I've started writing a new story that I set in a world based on 1500's Scotland and I wanted the main characters to have Scottish accents, but alas I am from the American Midwest. Do you know of any resources or any people who could help me write my dialogue more accurately?

There are some resources for Scots English (like the the DSL), but I’m going to give you the advice I wish a lot of non-Scots people would use when it comes to writing historical Scottish accents: don’t.

The Scots language is not a monolith, and accents and dialect to this day vary greatly depending on region.

Most of the time even with research, what happens is a butchery of our language which borders on parody (sometimes even amped up by publishers because they want the Outlander effect) and is neither correctly spelled nor even phonetically accurate. A better way of writing accents/dialogue (and the way I tend to do it myself even when writing this sort of thing) would be to use regional and tone indicators.

So things like “he spoke with the broad, sweeping brogue of the lower west coast” or “her manner of speaking quickened with excitement, thickening her accent.”

If you want to use some Scots words, you can do so. Just make sure you look them up in the DSL and spell them correctly instead of making up your own.

A common phrase I like to use as an example for how to inject some Scots words into the dialect without murdering it would be the often very sarcastic “oh aye, so you think so?”

It’s a phrase often used when someone is blustering or maybe being a wee bit rude. Sort of like saying “oh really?” As you invite someone to keep digging their own grave.

I’ve seen it spelled every which way from “och aye, di’ye ‘ink sew?” (Pure jibberish, don’t do that) to the slightly more legible if not entirely accurate, “oh aye, dae ye think soe?”

Another could be something like, “oh aye, he’s muckle canny” to mean “oh yes, he’s very smart.” I’ve seen all of those words misspelled at one point, the most memorable being “och aye ‘e’s mochel cannae” which is just…

Canny is smart/capable while cannae means you can’t do something. (And muckle can be spelt mochell if you want to but some modern Scots readers will squint at it)

I tried explaining that what the author had written was the equivalent of “yes. he’s very can’t” but she wouldn’t listen and it went to print anyway. Agony.

Anyway, I mentioned the DSL up top so I suppose I should link to it.

Most of the recorded words there are from 17th century onward. There is an option to search prior to that, though it is limited.

There are surviving texts from the 1500s, though unless you want your work to be readable by a limited few, I wouldn’t try to imitate it. It’s mostly written in archaic Scots that’d be illegible to even modern Scottish readers.

If it’s something you intend to go to print with, I’d also suggest hiring a Scots sensitivity reader. They can make sure there’s nothing glaringly obvious with misspellings and also if they know their history, point out where something is off.

My favorite is when Scottish historical stories have potato scones in the 11th century, which begets the concept of agricultural time travelers, but alas, it’s never that interesting and just a factual error.

Anyway, I hope that was helpful and not discouraging. Please do write your story. Just don’t fall down the Outlander trap of writing nonsense and trying to pass it off as a language that still exists and for which there is recognized meanings and spelling. Which it sounds like you want to do, so yay! Thank you for wanting to be considerate and as accurate as can be.

#editing #scots language #storytelling

[luhafraser]

I'm upset that a friend got her account suspended over this nonsense discussion about Sam going to this private and exclusive event.

What yes, he could regardless of strike or not. He acts as he wants. According to the strike rules, he couldn't talk about Outlander, MIK... You, who are defending and believing that nothing was said about Outlander, and reporting accounts, do you believe everything that is said in this fandom? To be, at this moment, being against whoever thinks that Sam might have broken the strike.

Do you believe when Sam says he's single and doesn't have time for relationships? If you don't, why do you think everyone would believe that at this Sasnak City, with actors from Outlander, Outlander would not be talked about, even if it wasn't during the panel, but maybe in the meet and greet, for example?!

I bet if it was Caitríona at this event, the discussion wouldn't even be that, but whether Tony was there or not.

Women can be very toxic to each other in this fandom, Sam and Cait know it and have never done anything to help make it better.

[margareth-lv]

🕸️ Weaving stories. Spinning tales 🕸️

There is something magical about weaving a story together. I'm deeply convinced that a community is built from a story that many people add their pieces to. So in the good tradition of a shared storytelling I would like to continue in the direction that that @sgiandubh set out in her post last Saturday.

*** *** *** I have always been baffled by the bizarre version of reality that is imposed in CaitOnly World, in which Caitríona, her Shy 'Husband' and their «Blonde Bambino» supposedly live. In CaitOnly World Santa Caitríona da Monaghan plays her own version of the efficient housewife à rebours. It's as if she's been brought back to life from the 50s, from the days of «The Occupation: Housewife», with Mr McShy, of course, as the housewife who treats his 'wife' like a goddess (even though he doesn't) and looks after their «Blonde Bambino».

Side Note: Maybe it's because being CaitOnly is like believing. It is a statement of faith. It has nothing to do with reality or what we might know about Caitríon's life. With all sorts of caveats and disclaimers, of course.

*** *** ***

Now there's another 'scandal' about Sam's 'numerous travels' and an absolute inability to reconcile these travels with a family life (I've only been here a short time and I've seen the same 'shock' a few times already).

Meanwhile, all these defenders of Caitríona's ‘connubial bliss’ and those who shout loudly that Sam would be the worst dad in the world (fortunately he's not a dad in the CaitOnly World), travelling around the world as he does, so all these wise women of the CaitOnly World don't even bother to listen to Caitríona herself.

I, on the other hand, fortunately have notes, screen shots and the memory of an old female elephant. *** *** *** Remember the "nomadic life"?

Once upon a time, we had a nice fandom legend about Caitríona mentioning her husband a lot, but never saying his name (because she couldn't pronounce 'husband' and 'Tony' in the same sentence). And as what is written about in fandom is usually reflected in Caitríona's PR, the Wall Street Journal published this long-awaited gem on 16 November 2021, during the infamous 'Balfast' promotion, of course:

The article itself is behind a paywall, so you'll have to take my word for it. This is an actual screenshot.

But let's skip the 'husband'-comma-'Tony' sequence. Let's concentrate on the hippie 'nomadic life'.

Because a nomadic life with the Blonde Bambino is obviously nonsense to anyone who can count. The baby was supposedly born in August 2021. Outlander season 6 wrapped in May/June 2021. If the Blonde Bambino was travelling between Glasgow (where the series was filmed) and London (where he lives), it couldn't have been the Blonde Bambino born in August 2021. But who can do the maths these days?

*** *** *** Anyway, mentioning Caitríona Balfe's hippy 'nomadic life' sent the internet buzzing in Autumn 2021. Suddenly everyone was describing her travels with husband, child and possessions (how far away from the image of Caitríona in a 1950s-style kitchen apron). One small example - the article is not behind the paywall - published by the Daily Express.

Admittedly, this article, like most articles about our two lovebirds, is a strange mixture of fact and manipulation. But let's focus on the interesting content.

Beneath a screenshot of an IG photo of Sam and the blonde bambino`s hands lying on a striped sheet, the article read:

She wrote: "Today, my husband, Tony, and I and our son are slightly nomadic. "We split our time between Glasgow and London. “When I’m working on Outlander, we're in Glasgow."

Admittedly, it's impossible to know where Caitriona 'wrote' the above (as it's certainly not on her Instagram account, I'm guessing the author apparently had trouble quoting the Wall Street Journal directly, which is a shame). But let's not get hung up on irrelevant details. Surely the hippie dimension of the "nomadic life" was important to Caitríona's PR in some way (the message: I'm not a boring wife to a boring man, I travel the world, even with a newborn, I'm an artist, I'm a hippy!).

So much important, in fact, that an article in The Guardian on January 23, 2022, after the tour's composition had been corrected (by how logically the newborn had been omitted), added Los Angeles to the "nomadic existence" between London and Glasgow.

And Villa No Ego, I think.

*** *** ***

Bottom line: everyone, everyone listen:

Caitríona travels. With her husband. With a child (well, with children). With clothes, with blankets, with baby's cutlery. With toys. With a suitcase full of shoes. With warm clothes and a child's bicycle. She leads what she calls a "nomadic life". London, Glasgow, Los Angeles. New York. Et caetera.

This seems to fit in quite well with the kind of lifestyle that Sam lets the fandom know about from time to time, doesn't it? Doesn't it seem to make their lives consistent?

Quod erat demonstrandum. Which was to be proved.

Thank you for your attention. It was a long text.

😅

[February 8, 2024]