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alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer · 4 years

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what about....... 💻 for thomastair, with the plot "there's only one bed"? thank u 🥺

i know we're all going off about ariadne & alastair right now but I wanted to get this posted!! thomastair fluff with a little angst. i hope you like this, it was a lot of fun to write! pls check the end for disclaimers, i also cross-posted to AO3. only content warnings are discussion of grief and brief mention of racism.

prompt: “there’s only one bed”

“You’re in luck!” the innkeeper declared. “There are four rooms left.”

“Thank you, sir,” James responded without question. Four rooms, eight people. “We’ll take them.” James paid the gentlemen and turned to his friends.

Lucie pouted. “I suppose that means Daisy and I can’t share a room.”

It was a trying journey, dragging a group of eight along into rural England, but they needed to find the portal that continued to allow Belial a connection to this realm, and their only leads were here. It was the sole way to stop Belial for good. It began as just the Merry Thieves, of course, but then Lucie and Cordelia caught wind of it, and they couldn’t refuse. From there, it was Alastair, who refused to allow his sister to go without him, despite the animosity that still sat between him and the other boys, and Jesse, who insisted that this was the only way to save Grace and free her from Belial’s - and their mother’s - control. As such, the eight of them departed. It might not be ideal to travel with so many people, but it did allow them to split into smaller groups relatively easily - unless, of course, those groups were sharing a room with each other.

Without Alastair and Jesse, it would be simple: Lucie with Cordelia, James with Matthew, and Thomas with Christopher. However, no one really knew Jesse all that well apart from Lucie, and they certainly didn’t trust Alastair enough to leave Jesse with him for a night. Most logically, the girls would stay with their brothers, but Lucie had been excited about the idea of a ‘sleepover’ with Cordelia all day. The weather was beginning to become treacherous, as it sometimes did during English winters, and they knew they would need to retreat to an inn that evening.

“Nonsense, Lucie,” Thomas said a little more quickly than seemed logical. “I can stay with Alastair, and I’m sure one of you doesn't mind staying with Jesse.” He eyed his friends. “You two should enjoy yourselves; it’s been a difficult couple of days.”

Lucie’s eyes lit up eagerly. “Oh, Thomas, are you sure?”

Matthew’s eyes had darkened and he repeated, “Yeah, Tom, are you sure?”

Alastair rolled his eyes and ignored the fact that they were solely debating who would have the displeasure of spending the night in the same room as him.

“I said so, didn’t I?” was Thomas’ reply.

“I’ll stay with Jesse,” James offered before the discussion could continue into more hurtful territory.

The innkeeper led them to their rooms, and they settled for the night.

Alastair gritted his teeth when he saw that instead of two single beds, there was one double. He sighed. “I can go ask for extra blankets; I’ve slept in worse places.”

Thomas paused for a second in confusion. “Don’t be daft, Carstairs, the bed is plenty big enough for the both of us.” He turned his head sideways. “Though it might be a bit short…”

“You don’t have to-”

“I said, don’t be silly. We’re here to rest, that’s all.”

Alastair grunted but didn’t push it further. They continued in relative silence as they took turns changing behind the folding screen and freshening up at the wash bin. Finally comfortable, Alastair settled into the armchair beside the bed with the book he’d brought along and tried to consume himself enough in the reading that he could ignore that just a few feet away from him was the very tall, very muscular, very attractive man who hated him.

It wasn’t working.

“What are you reading?”

Alastair bit his lip. He hated when people interrupted him while he was reading, but he supposed he wasn’t really reading at all, just pretending to. The cover of the book was plain, a deep red leather with no writing. Whenever he was around folks who were not his family, he was careful to position himself in a way that no one would be able to see the writing inside - writing that did not use the Roman alphabet. He always felt more comfortable with Thomas, though, for some odd reason. He sighed. “Divan-e Shams.” He tilted the book towards Thomas so he could see a bit of the Farsi poetry written inside.

“Would you read some to me? I’ve forgotten my reading material.”

Alastair flashed him an incredulous look. “What an important thing to forget.”

“Yes,” Thomas sighed. “I have realized. So…?”

Alastair rolled his eyes and did his best to translate. “My desert is without end, my soul, my heart must tear. The world here-”

“No, no,” Thomas interrupted. “In Persian.”

Alastair pushed away some of his shock. After all, Cordelia had said that Thomas had been studying the language with Lucie. “Right,” he amended before beginning again. Around the same spot, though, he cut himself off.

“What’s the matter?”

“It’s just… it’s meant to be sung. It feels strange saying it.”

“Sing it, then.”

Alastair stared at him for a moment. Was this some sort of trick? Was he going to run off to his schoolboy friends the moment he was finished to laugh about what he had done? Was he doing it to get revenge? He pondered all of the possibilities, but his mind rested on just one thought: that perhaps it would be worth it, to play into some cruel trick, if it meant he could say that he’d sung to Thomas Lightwood, even just once.

“I mean… You don’t have to, but you can. If you wanted,” Thomas said quickly, realizing that he might have made Alastair uncomfortable.

Alastair cleared his throat and began to sing. He made sure to keep his voice soft and low as he made his way through the ghazal, careful to not allow anyone to hear through the walls. Cordelia would never let him live it down if she heard. He finally looked up at Thomas, who was staring at him intensely.

“That was beautiful.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Did you understand any of it?”

Thomas grinned. “Not a word.”

Alastair chuckled. “That’s alright. Mevlevi - I believe you folks call him Rumi - was a genius. He crafted phrases in a way… Well, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anything else quite like it. He gives new meanings to old words and uses quite a bit of wordplay, speaking of love and loss and longing… I used to think it was a tragedy, truly, that English speakers could not understand, but now… it’s nice. Like a secret only I, and, well, Persia, have access too.” He bit back a smile as he rambled. While the books he had were from his mother, she never had much of an interest in it all, nor Cordelia, so he’d never had anyone to muse about the poet with before.

“I can see why you enjoy it so much. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard something so beautiful before. I didn’t even know you could sing.”

Alastair felt his brain sputter a bit. He’d become so entranced with the language before him that he’d forgotten that he had just sung it to Thomas. He felt his face flush, and he was grateful that it is difficult to see against his dark complexion. “Oh… It was nothing. I mean, I don’t, really. It’s just something my mum taught me.”

“It’s incredible,” Thomas said in awe, his face glowing a faint pink. “I, uh, I write songs, you know. I mean, I’ve never told anyone, least of all you, so, you wouldn’t know, but now you do. Just in my head, I mean. Well, sometimes I write them down. I’m not very musically inclined.” His face was growing redder by the second.

Alastair was careful not to grin too widely. “Sing one, then.”

“What?” Thomas squeaked.

“Well, you don’t have to, but you can, if you want to.”

Thomas threw him a quick glare for repeating his words and then took a deep breath. He was silent for a bit, but then he began to sing, careful not to look towards Alastair. “I woke up thinking you were still here, my hands shaking with regret. I've held this dream for such a long, long time, and now I want to wake up to the rhythm of a wild heart that beats, that beats like a drum.

“Your light, it follows me in darkness. I'm trying hard, but I can't win, and I've played the victim for a long, long time, and I wanna grow up from the rhythm of a younger heart, it leads, just like a river runs.”

Alastair stood from the armchair and moved to where Thomas was sitting on the edge of the bed, placing a gentle hand on his knee. “That’s beautiful, Thomas,” he said softly. “I didn’t… I know I didn’t know her, but I’m sure she’d love it.”

Thomas turned away from him sharply, his lip trembling and tears beginning to fall down his cheeks.

Alastair took the other boy’s hand, cupping it firmly between his own, as if just to say, I’m here with you. “It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not,” Thomas said, trying futilely to wipe away his tears. “We were having a moment, and then I ruined it.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he replied gently. “You’re allowed to have feelings, Thomas. You shouldn’t just push them away.”

Thomas scoffed. “What do you suggest I do then? Mask my pain with cruel, horrible lies about those who have done nothing to deserve them like you do?”

Alastair dropped his hand and stood up, backing away from Thomas. He was silent for a moment. “You’re right. You are. But I’m trying, Thomas, I really am. I don’t want to…” I don’t want to be my father, he wanted to say, but he couldn’t. “I don’t want to be the kind of person who takes my hurt out on others anymore, and I’m trying. I swear it.”

“I know,” Thomas said softly. He was silent for a moment. “I understand why you did it.”

Alastair’s jaw tightened reflexively.

“Matthew said some awful things about… about the way you look, and your father, and… the incident. You were in a bad way already.”

Alastair was speechless. He’d forgotten that Thomas was present for that. He hadn’t shared any of it with Thomas, not his insecurities about his heritage, nor his father, and certainly not the horrible, world-altering guilt over Clive’s death that still sat in the depths of his soul years later.

“That doesn’t make what you said okay.”

“It wasn’t.”

“You weren’t trying to hurt me.”

“I was not.”

“You were trying to hurt Matthew.”

He sighed. “I was.”

“And you did.”

“I did.”

“And perhaps he deserved some of it.”

“Not what I did, though.”

“No, not what you did.”

“I took it too far.”

“You did.”

“I know. I’ve known since the moment I said it. I’ve regretted it since the moment I said it.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think that it’s something that can be fixed, though.”

“With Matthew? Maybe not.”

“What about with you?”

“There’s nothing to fix, Alastair.”

“I thought you hated me.”

“I wanted to hate you because you hurt Matthew. But… I think the world is just a little more complicated than I’d like it to be.”

Alastair sat back down on the bed, though farther from Thomas this time.

“Is that… Is that why you dyed your hair? Because of the things he said?”

Alastair attempted to hide the way he physically flinched.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve-”

“Do you think he’s the only one?” he interrupted. “Do you think I haven’t been laughed at or ridiculed or worse, suspected to be dangerous or a thief, my entire life just because of how dark my hair and eyes and skin are?”

“I’m sorry,” was all Thomas could find to say. “Matthew still shouldn’t’ve said those things. I’m sorry I never stopped him.”

He’d left Alastair speechless yet again. The thought had never crossed his mind before, or perhaps it had, that Thomas could have ever spoken to Matthew about the kinds of comments he made on Alastair’s appearance. Though, the longer he pondered the idea, the more he wondered if he had held some sort of small resentment because of it, and never realized. “That wasn’t your responsibility.”

“Perhaps not, but I could have tried.”

He stared at him for a moment. Never in his life had felt so seen, so understood. In fact, he had many carefully built walls to protect against just that. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“How do you… just know everything?”

Thomas half-rolled his eyes. “I don’t know everything. I just watch, and I observe, and I try, somehow, to understand. You’re not as complicated as you wish you were, you know.”

He had a startling thought as he wondered whether anyone had ever watched him as closely as Thomas had. “Cordelia would disagree with you.”

“Hm, I just might have to share with her the secret to you, then.”

Alastair glared at him, but he was grinning now. “Don’t you dare.”

“For the record, you know… I prefer dark features. Personally, I mean.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, yes, I’m sure there were many striking dark-haired women back in Madrid.”

“Hm,” Thomas pondered in an exaggerated way. “I don’t know… Though, there was certainly an attractive dark-haired someone that I met when I visited Paris.”

“Well, I would hope so,” Alastair deadpanned. “Because according to you, we just shared a moment.”

Thomas cringed. “I had hoped you’d forgotten I’d said that.”

“Me? Never.”

“Does this… Does this mean we’re okay now?” Thomas was slow and cautious as he spoke.

“Yes, I think it does.”

He breathed a sigh of relief.

“I could help you, you know, with your songs, if you wanted, once we return to London. With that one, or others. I can play the piano.”

Thomas narrowed his eyes. “You can play the piano?”

Alastair shrugged. “Well, I used to, but I haven’t in a while.”

“Why did you stop?”

He bit his cheek as he thought. This was where he should say he grew bored of it, that it simply no longer interested him, or perhaps suggest that they should go to sleep, as they were both dreadfully tired, or even whip out a line cutting and cruel. He had meant what he’d said to Thomas, though, that he no longer wanted to be so heartless and closed off. “I don’t know… I used to play a lot with my mother when I was young. Then, life got too busy… I’d still play, but usually when my parents were fighting or when something was happening that I didn’t want Cordelia to overhear. I could just… start playing and everything else would just melt away. After a while, though, it was just hard to play without thinking about all of the bad memories.”

There was more he wished to say, about how when he returned from the Academy he believed himself to be too corrupted and too broken to deserve to create anything beautiful, but this was a start.

“I wouldn’t wish to remind you of any bad memories.”

“Perhaps we could create some good memories, then.”

“I… I’d like that.”

“We should… we should probably sleep. It’s gotten late, and we’re sure to be running around all day tomorrow.”

Thomas nodded, and they both climbed into opposite sides of a bed that once seemed far too small, but now, too wide.

The exhaustion of the day finally creeping up on him, Alastair fell asleep almost instantly.

When he woke, he found himself face first into Thomas’ night shirt.

His head rested against Thomas’ chest, Thomas’ arm around his torso, their legs intertwined. He stared for a moment into the white of Thomas’ shirt, not daring to move. Should he? They’d flirted a bit the night before, but they were hardly even friends at this point. Was this too much, too far? The other boy seemed to be sleeping soundly, though, and from the sound of Thomas’ song and the circles he’d noticed under his eyes the past few months, he suspected that sound sleep might not be coming so easily to him nowadays. Therefore, the best thing would be not to move and risk startling Thomas from his rest. Besides, the room was quite chilly, and they could use each other’s warmth.

Content with his decision to not move away from Thomas’ embrace, he allowed himself to fall back into a light, peaceful slumber, however long it would last.

It lasted, he would learn, until his little sister began banging on their door.

“Booooys,” she called. “Are you decent?”

Alastair shot out of Thomas’ arms and fell onto the floor. He quickly straightened himself and hurried over to open it. “What do you want, Cordelia?”

She grinned. “I just came to tell you that Lucie and I are eating breakfast downstairs. You should get ready.”

“You could have said that through the door.”

“I know,” she smirked.

She started down the hall, and he closed the door, silently groaning.

“What’s wrong?” Thomas asked.

“She’s up to something,” he answered. “We never should have left her and Lucie alone together. They probably spent all night scheming.”

“Perhaps so,” he laughed. “Only one way to find out, though.”

Alastair sighed. “You’re right. Okay, I’ll get ready quickly and go down, and then in five, maybe ten minutes, you can follow.”

Thomas gave him an odd look, but didn’t fight it. “Alright.”

A few minutes later, he joined Lucie and Cordelia downstairs. Unsurprisingly, Lucie had her notebook and was scribbling away while Cordelia nursed a cup of tea. A cup of black coffee sat in front of the seat he was meant to sit in. He loathed English tea, compared to Persian tea it was nothing more than hot water. None of the other boys had come down yet.

“Alastair!” Lucie exclaimed when she noticed him. “Did you enjoy your night with Thomas?”

Cordelia giggled.

“I… We slept, if that’s what you are asking. That is what we were meant to do here, at an inn, wasn’t it?”

Cordelia raised an eyebrow. “Well, it was most peculiar, when I went to request an extra blanket last night, well, it certainly was not sleeping I heard from the hallway…”

“Cordelia, you didn’t-”

“I did.”

“You heard Alastair singing-”

“He was. In Persian.”

“In Persian,” Lucie said the words succinctly with no expression on her face, as if she was laying out a fact during a murder trial.

Once again, Alastair was grateful that no one could see him blush. “Did you two actually get any rest last night or did you just spend it gossiping about me?”

“Not just you,” Lucie replied. “You and Thomas.”

“Why do you keep saying his name like that?”

“You’re welcome, you know,” Cordelia declared smugly.

Alastair let out an exasperated sigh. “What?”

“It was all part of the plan, Alastair,” Lucie answered.

“It was quite brilliant, actually,” Cordelia supplied. “It was all Lucie’s idea. She knew that if we were to stay at an inn, Thomas would jump at the chance to spend a night with you.”

“And he did, as expected, without hesitation,” Lucie confirmed.

“The only issue, of course, being me, because we’d be far too obvious a pair for him to try to argue against.” Lucie nodded along to Cordelia’s explanation. “So, Lucie spent all day musing about how much she’d love to spend the night with me, just in case the opportunity arose.”

“And it did!” Lucie squealed.

“She’s been planning this since the engagement party,” Cordelia finished.

“The engagement party?” he responded incredulously. “That was ages ago!”

“And it has finally come to fruition, has it not?” Lucie babbled excitedly.

He didn’t give her the dignity of replying. “I only have one question, though - how did you know there would only be one bed?”

Lucie’s eyes widened. “There was only one bed!” she squealed as she began furiously scribbling into her notebook once again.

DISCLAIMERS: I don’t speak Farsi and the translation that Alastair makes is actually from this document. It’s the poem on page 9 and 10 if you want to check it out! Also, the song that Thomas sings isn’t mine, it’s adapted from “Like A River Runs” by the Bleachers. I tried to write something, but I’ve never experienced what Thomas has, and it’s a very beautiful song written about the loss of Jack Antonoff’s sister. You should listen to it! Though, I imagine Thomas’ version to be a bit less upbeat.

#jaimie's appreciation posts #dianasarrow #ask #thomas lightwood #alastair carstairs #lucie herondale #cordelia carstairs #thomastair #fanfiction #fanfic

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raith-way · 3 years

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🌹🌼🌴 for both Grace and Eliot! :-D

Ooh, Grace and Eliot!! I would be more than happy to talk about my Buffy OCs. Thank you for the ask!!

🌹- What's this oc's biggest fear?

Grace - Her biggest fear will actually be revealed in either chapter three or four, depends on how much I ramble in the next chapter, but I’ll try to answer without giving away too much of a spoiler. Despite being psychic her entire life, Grace has only seen her own death once. There are still endless possibilities, because future visions are not always accurate, but the death that she saw is her greatest fear. Not dying itself, she knows that’ll happen eventually no matter what she does, but that one specific way of dying has become her greatest fear.

Eliot - Before Sunnydale, Eliot didn’t have any great fears. Not scared of heights, water, the dark, enclosed spaces, any animals or insects, or even death because he expected he’d be dead long before now. After Sunnydale and meeting who he affectionately calls his three idiots, he gains one fear. Losing them. Losing Grace, Spike, and Angel is his greatest fear. Having to live without them is something he tries not to even think about.

🌼- What's your favorite thing about this oc?

Grace - My absolute favorite thing? I love writing Grace’s visions and what she gets up to when she disassociates. The visions are all over the place, past to future, and the riddles are fun. I have a separate document just for explaining Grace’s visions. So if anything ever sounds like nonsensical gibberish, it isn’t. It all means something. Then there’s another document for everything that Grace does when she loses time, which may or may not be posted once it’s revealed why she doesn’t remember what happens during her disassociated moments. It’s all terrifying for her and driving her a little crazy, but it’s very fun for me because I get to stretch my creativity. (Although, sometimes I write things that I don’t remember writing. There was a section in chapter two that I read while doing my pre-post edit that I didn’t remember writing at all, so I’m assuming that was Grace taking over for a bit. Or my complete lack of sleep. One of the two.)

Eliot - I haven’t had a chance to write for him much yet, but I love how absolutely done he is at all times. He’s a human that’s been fighting demons and vampires since he was a teenager, he turned it into a career, but he still believes that demons can be good and humans can be evil. He sees the world in shades of gray, and he’s over the whole all-demons-must-die thing. Also, Apocalypses? Over ‘em. He saw Apocalyptic signs before coming to Sunnydale, so the world trying to end once a year barely even phases him anymore. All Eliot wants is some coffee and good company, and I love that for him.

🌴- Who is this oc's favorite person?(Can be another oc, a fictional character, a celebrity, anyone)

Grace - Besides Eliot, her favorite person is Angel. They do get off to a rocky start, but their friendship really does become solid and so strong. There’s nothing they wouldn’t do for each other, despite knowing the worst parts of each other. Whenever something happens, the first person they look for is each other. Eliot might be the love of her life, but Angel is her soulmate. No matter what happens in their lives, they will always have each other.

Eliot - Besides Grace, his favorite person is Spike. He can’t really explain why, doesn’t really understand why himself, but he doesn’t care. Spike is his closest friend. With a chip or without a chip. With a soul or without a soul. None of that matters. He and Spike are honest with each other, brutally honest, and they respect each other. Grace might be the love of his life, but Eliot will absolutely kill someone for Spike or die for him if needed. No questions asked.

#answered ask #wordspin shares #oc: grace blackburn #oc: eliot greenwood #fic: things are getting a little hazy #buffy the vampire slayer #otp: crawling through fire #brotp: pet project #brotp: it had to be you #i rambled a bit too much #but i just love them so much

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madzfm · 3 years

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˛ ⠀ * ⠀ ★ ⠀ JESSICA ALEXANDER . CIS FEMALE . SHE / HER ⧽ ⠀ have you seen the 786 latest post ? sources say they have some serious dirt on the child of a big time COUNTRY MUSIC STARS . they haven’t revealed who it was yet but my best is on MADISON DARLING ! ever since that last update about how she ALLEGEDLY GOT CAUGHT SPORTING A BABY BUMP LAST YEAR BEFORE GHOSTING EVERYONE i don’t put anything pass them . i mean , these celebrity kids are just out of control . they do whatever they want , whenever they want and are ungrateful in the process !! i mean take MADDIE for example , they’re a TWENTY THREE year old DANCER , and what did they do to get there ? have famous parents ! like hello , just because you HAVE BEEN IN MUSIC VIDEOS WITH A-LIST MUSICIANS doesn’t mean you actually deserved it . i’m glad the 786 is taking them down a notch . it’s about time someone does .

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐆𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐂 / 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 / 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

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hey ... hey ... how y’all doin’ ? i’m sooo excited to be here , besties ! sorry i’m late with the intro , it’s been a looooong weekend for me but i’m eager to get the ball rolling . so here’s the rundown , the google doc has a full bio + more stats + headcanons but i don’t expect anyone to actually read all that nonsense so i’ve tried my best to sum it up below ( it’s still kinda long tho i’m sorry y’all i ramble too much ). i’m always down to talk plots & threw a few wanted connection ideas at the bottom , so feel free to hmu on discord any time <3 but yes okay let’s get into it

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━━ ˊ * 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 . .

𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞. madison dallas darling . 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞(𝐬). maddie , mads . 𝐝𝐨𝐛. april 14 , 1998 . 𝐚𝐠𝐞. twenty - three . 𝐳𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐜. aries sun , libra moon , leo asc . 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫. cis female . 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬. she / her . 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. bisexual . 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞. nashville , tn . 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭. 5ft 5in . 𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. high school diploma . 𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. dancer / realty tv personality . 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬. robert “robbie” darling - father . dixie darling - mother . delaney darling - sister . 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬. compassionate , imaginative , family-oriented , devoted , generous , sympathetic , idealistic , self critical , naive , competitive , indecisive , impressionable , elusive , sensitive .

━━ ˊ * 𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲 . .

tw : things like shitty controlling parents , injury , & pregnancy are mentioned

born & raised in nashville , tennessee , madison is the daughter of two country music icons ( basically blake shelton & miranda lambert ) & has only ever known a life in the spotlight . her parents were a widely adored it couple who shared their lives with millions of viewers across the world with their reality tv show . at 7pm cst you could tune in to watch robbie & dixie raise their two daughters - having some good ol’ wholesome family fun while juggling responsibilities that come with being famous artists . to any outsider looking in , they seemed like the perfect family . a loving father , a supportive mother , two prim & proper daughters that collected accolade after accolade in every pageant & talent competition they ever entered . but you shouldn’t believe everything you see on tv , even if it’s deceptively labeled as “reality” .

when the cameras weren’t rolling , the darling sisters were left under their mother’s restrictive control . dixie darling treated her daughters more like dolls than living beings , madison & delaney were basically pretty little accessories . while robbie never dared to mistreat his daughters , he was around a lot less than the show made it seem - often touring the world rather than spending quality time with his girls . plus , dixie & robbie seemed to endlessly fight with one another - nearly every childhood memory madison has of her parents involves them yelling . if she wanted to see them looking happy & in love , she’d have to tune in to the fabricated reality on their own show to get a taste of what a happy , loving family looks like .

you can’t be a child of dixie darling without being exploited in some way . while delaney was pushed into the music scene , madison was shoved into the world of dance . she took every class that was offered & practiced for hours upon hours to perfect her craft . her sister had taken after their folks with the singing voice of an angel & the looks to rival that of miss universe , meanwhile maddie was good for two things : dance & doing whatever her mother said . so when dixie said to twirl , she twirled , when she said do a grand jeté, maddie asked how high & then over performed like the good little girl she was trained to be .

it wasn’t until her parents got divorced & maddie moved to miami to be with her sister , her father , & her father’s new girlfriend that she sort of came out ( or more accruately described as dragged out ) of her timid , non - confrontational , subservient shell . with a longer leash , she had more freedom to roam far & wide . no one tried to tell her what to do or who to talk to & considering she was just a privileged teenager with endless funds & the status to get away with just about anything , you can imagine how badly that went . every mistake she made was broadcasted onto people’s televisions or headlined in tabloids . it was stressful , growing up & messing up all under the watchful gaze of millions of people who felt entitled to berate her for her poor life decisions . just because they watched her grow up on tv didn’t mean they actually knew anything about her . & yet so many people shared their unsolicited opinions on her & her life . it drove her insame .

maddie wasn’t handling the stress of being well known very well . she wanted a break from it all , to just go somewhere far away where no one knew her name & just live by herself . it was a silly dream . nothing she’d ever actively pursue . but the universe has a funny way of giving us a taste of what we think we want just to teach us a lesson .

so over a year ago , maddie found out that she was pregnant . it was a shock to say the least . she kept it a close guarded secret from everyone but her sister for awhile . not only was it a life changing development , but it was one thing that she was determined not to share with the rest of the world . with the idea of running away in continuous loop in the back of her mind , she came up with a plan to buy herself some time . she faked a really bad injury during a performance & let the media run with saying she might not be able to walk , let alone dance ever again . pushing the cover story even further , she claimed to be in need of intense physical therapy & sought after it in a luxurious private lodge in new zealand . that’s where she stayed during her year away , letting no outsiders come visit while she figured out how she was going to move forward with this baby growing inside of her .

so maddie finally got the break she was looking for even if it wasn’t under the circumstances that she would’ve liked . but she adapted to the situation . in her time away , she went through the entire pregnancy but it was basically decided for her by her parents that it was best to give the baby up for adoption . the little girl would be in good care by a couple that was a family friend of the darlings . better to bless someone who wanted a baby but couldn’t have one than for maddie to keep her daughter when she wasn’t in a place to take care of her . it broke her heart , honestly . she had grown quite attached to the baby & even entertained the idea of being a single mom even though she knew her own mom would never let that happen - it would go against the strict narrative that they try to put out there about the darling family .

after a year away , maddie is back in miami without anyone knowing what really happened . she keeps using the “injury” as the excuse for her absence from the spotlight . anyone really close to her might be able to tell that something’s off , but she’s trying so hard to act like everything is fine & nothing has changed at all . she might even be able to get away with her lies - if it wasn’t for that damn 786 website threatening to spill the tea & make her life hell .

━━ ˊ * 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 & 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 . .

a wannabe good girl gone bad but harbors a deep rooted fear of being a disappointment & a failure due to her mom’s strict parenting style . so like she wants to be rebellious & come across as carefree but internally she’s panic screaming always ( honestly relatable like same , girl )

well - mannered in a sweet southern belle kind of way with her please’s & thank you’s & calling everyone ma’am & sir out of respect & what not

biiiig mom friend energy . she just wants to make sure that everyone is taken care of . she can get very protective & a little helicopter parent-y with her friends . it probably has something to do with control issues that she doesn’t realize she has but we don’t have time to unpack that rn akjsdbk

before her year away i want to say that she was a lot more people please-y / overly eager to please ?? like rarely said no to people that asked for favors , always agreed to any plans people invited her to out of courtesy , & what have you . but now i see her as being a little less patient than before & a little bit more unhinged & quick to shut down or snap

guillable ! naive ! dumb as hell ! believes that everyone was raised with the same values as her & has a big of a heart like she does so she’s easily subjectable to getting her feelings hurt & i say let it happen !!

wants to be mysterious so bad but there is very little known about her & her life that isn’t public knowledge . she could get shit on by a bird & it’ll probably become a twitter highlight idk she just wants to believe she’s imperceptible & acts all evasive in order to keep her private life private but that rarely ever has the desired effect

one of those annoying rich & famous people that’s like “i wasn’t meant to be famous . i was meant to have a normal life & be a normal person” but like !! she is actually so out of touch with reality & probably couldn’t tell you how much milk is at the grocery store because she has people to do mundane day to day things for her . spoiled little privileged rich girl , let’s be real . her dad tried to keep her humble , idk what happened

dance style / career is pretty much inspired by maddie ziegler but also not really bc i am very picky & choosey about which aspects of her career i’m pulling from

boring on social media because she hardly ever posts & is very short with her captions & tweets when she does make an appearance online every blue moon

dodges questions about what she’s been up to while she was gone like she’s in the matrix or something . all that pr training her mom put her through when she was younger is coming in handy because she has not given a single honest , straight answer in the months she’s been back . would rather talk about anything else than herself right now so don’t be surprised if she pulls some random subject changes out of her ass if people get nosy . i’m sure the common conspiracy is that maddie was so embarrassed by the fall on stage that she went into hiding

delaney is the kim kardashian & britney spears of the family while madison is the kourtney & the jamie lynn xoxo

━━ ˊ * 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜��𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 . .

ride or die , bad influence , frenemies , family friends , good influence , confidant , rival , girl squad , non judging breakfast club , childhood friend , unlikely friend , exes on good terms , exes on bad terms , neighbors , pr friendship , pr enemy , social media mutuals , party buddies , secret friend , secret hook - up , crush , friends with benefits , adventure buddy , enemy with benefits , dance partners , mentors , mentees , sibling like relationship , will they won’t they , people suspicious of her & her supposed “injury” , father of her baby 👀 jk ..... unless

#786intro #template credit to yeonjvnz on deviantart !#they're linked in the source <3

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overanalysingfandoms · 3 years

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Jonathan Stroud's newest book, The Outlaws Scarlett & Browne arrived today.

Needless to say I have already finished it lol,

So if you haven't had a chance to read TOSAB yet please don't read the rest of this post, there are spoilers

I have zero idea how to do read more, soooo sorry for clogging up your tags?

I'll probably do a more in-depth review later but here are some of my thoughts after literally just finishing the book 5 minutes ago:

I want to adopt Albert

I really loved the book

Stroud's worldbuilding, as always, was absolutely on point, I felt as though it was a completely different world but also the same, it was *chefs kiss* beautiful

I immediately loved Scarlett, she kind of has aspect of both Lucy and Lockwood with Lucy's harshness, attitude, boldness and people skills and Lockwoods calculations, timings, finesse and charm

It took me a while to warm up to Albert but by the middle of the book I absolutely adored him, he kind of reminded me of a mix of Bobby Vernon and Danny Skinner with his way of addressing people, lack of good timing and wit etc.

The villian was amazing, during the final scene I kept putting the book down to just process all of her lines and squeal at how cool she is, she really gave me Marissa Fittes vibes and Big M (as the skull would say) is one of my favourite characters, so needless to say, although I've already said it and I'm sure I'll say it again, I loved her. And I'm really intrigued about what's going to happen next with the plot

I know I keep making references to Lockwood & Co but it's only because I really can't help comparing them and I really liked the characters personalities and how familiar I felt with them because of reading Lockwood &Co

I also absolutely adored Scarlett and Albert's relationship with Joe and just Joe and Ettie as characters, they were really well done and I got a strong feel for how loyal Joe is and how much he loves Ettie, as well as how Ettie might struggle in the future being mute, it really gave us an insight to how the laws around deficiencies affect normal people on a personal level without shoving it in our faces and to do that at the same time as giving a more to the side character good motivation and depth was pure genius

Scarlett saying 'Thomas' in the final fight gives me the same vibes as Lockwood saying he thought Lucy was 'someone else' (meaning Jessica) so maybe we could have another dead sibling on out hands? I don't know, but I'm very curious and excited about it

I love how the people in the 'free lands' were portrayed through the book, at the start being spoken of as perfect and saviours while at the end being seen as cowardly and not much better than the others, while I started to see it coming by the middle, it was definitely a great pay off when it happened and fit in really well narratively

I think the Tainted were really creepy, during the descriptions of them, I couldn't help but grimace a bit, I found them to almost be as scary as the Fetch from The Hollow Boy was and the way that Albert described one of them as being just a normal girl his age when he saw into it's mind really freaked me out, I can not wait to see what's going to happen with them, there's definitely tonnes of potential there, especially with how they came to be

Talking about how things came to be, I must admit that I'm very intrigued by the 'Great Cataclysm', what it was and how it came to be

I literally couldn't not think about Chat Noir whenever this was mentioned lol, so I have come up with a very crack, doesn't explain anything, non-canon, completely for my own self indulgence, theory that this all took place during Chat Blanc when he cataclysmed like the entirety of France and destroyed the moon and stuff. The theory makes no sense, but that's what my, very twisted, way too fandom centric, mind came up with

Getting back on track, I also absolutely adored how the dynamic between Scarlett and Albert evolved, at the start feeling really rocky and less fun to read, with neither of them really trusting the other and both, especially Scarlett, feeling like they could snap at any second to a really comfortable dynamic that (yes, another Lockwood & Co reference, I can't help myself) that really reminded me of Lockwood and Lucy's dynamic during the final books at some points

Overall I loved it and am really sad that it will probably take what will feel like forever for another one to come out, probably shouldn't have read it all in 4 hours, but Oh well, I can just keep rereading it over and over again until another one comes out, just like all my other favourite books

If you made it this far then WOW, thank you for reading my nonsense rambling, I appreciate that, I literally just typed out my, probably very incoherent, thoughts out as I thought them

I have not proof read this so if there are mistakes then, whoops?

TLDR; TOSAB is an amazing book by a wonderful author and you should all go read it

Also if someone could explain to me how to do the whole 'read more' thing that would be super helpful because I have no idea how to do it and don't want to keep clogging up tags with these super long posts XD

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tophatvillainess · 3 years

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A short ramble.

Sometimes, I look back at my old posts and wonder how that poetry seemed to just spill unbidden. I wonder why it's stopped, if it's because the poetry has run dry.

In some ways, it has. I no longer feel like I'm splitting at the seams, no longer feel like I'm drowning in despair while pretending I've still got my head above the water.

I no longer feel like I've got to bottle everything up until I could finally spill things to a bunch of internet strangers that likely wouldn't think of it ever again.

...Five years ago, I started talking to someone who makes me feel like the sun has come out after a long, dark winter.

Shortly after I first started seeing him, he ran to give me a good-bye kiss and smacked his head along the way. He gave me a chaste peck on the lips, smiled, and said it was "worth it" as he closed the door.

I knew at that moment that I was falling, already.

Perhaps falling is the wrong word, because it felt more like I was running downhill straight into his arms. It was easy, to love him. It still is. He makes it easy.

I never knew until this relationship how... everything else couldn't even come close to what love truly is. When my strength fails me, he's standing right next to me and helping me continue. When I cry over nonsense, he's there to wipe away my tears and hug me until I'm better. There are so many little things I can't describe, building into a whole avalanche of love and I'm buried in it. Buried and happy.

He makes me feel like when I speak, someone listens. He looks at me like I'm the most beautiful thing in the room. We anticipate each others' needs. When we have troubles, we communicate. My well of barely-suppressed emotions has dried up because... Well, I can talk to him. I don't feel like I have to walk on eggshells around him, because I know he'll take it in stride and we make compromises together.

He makes me laugh, he makes me sigh with exasperation whenever he makes terrible jokes that I secretly love. He tells me about things that he’s excited about, and sometimes it all goes over my head except for the wonderful expression on his face when he speaks about something he’s passionate about. He spends long hours talking with me about characters and worlds we've built together in our heads. I give him his space when he needs it and he gives me mine, but I know that if we asked... the other would give their undivided attention in a heartbeat. It’s not that we make each other feel whole, but we fit together in a way I never knew I could fit with someone else. And I hope to be with him for the rest of our lives.

I'd held off on writing about him like this for so long because the words never felt right when I typed them out. It still doesn't feel like I'm doing him justice. I don't think it ever will. It feels like there’s still so much I want to write about, so many things I can’t even think to describe. But I know he deserves to be celebrated, and for once I wanted to write a long, rambling thing about joyful love instead of sadness. So here I am. Thank you to anyone else that’s read this far.

I love you, my sweetheart.

I hope my words make you cry, you sappy fucker.

#me #my posts #thoughts #fiance #love

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chainsawcorazon · 4 years

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not to be critical on main, but i think there is something to be said about the way some fandoms have become more and more monetized to the point where fancreator participation has skewed towards which fandoms are most profitable vs those who aren’t. there’s also definitely something to be said about fans who enter fandoms specifically because there’s money to be made through commissions, zine sales, patron solicitations, etc. it is even more ironic that many of these fans are being able to establish what is and isn’t morally consumable by driving out fancontent creators who create squicky content largely for free because content puritanism is more rampant largely due to the fandom participants being younger and thus much easier to manipulate with TERF rhetoric versus people who grew up in fandom and saw entire communities die out because of purges largely driven by predecessors of the current moral purity brigade.

then you look at the fandoms that just aren’t popular in general, with three people, a shoe string, and someone’s cat making up the audience, and the fancontent, tho minimal, is largely created for free and in service of building up and keeping together a community that’s always on the verge of disappearing because of reasons out of their control (eg. no new content, books only four people have read, tv shows that only aired in south asia and were watched by kids whose parents let them watch starplus with them, so on and so forth).

and yet, even during the olden days (and i’ll go back as far as the early 2000s since that’s when i got involved in fannish activity), even larger fandoms with the most toxic of subsets (HP, shounen jump’s Big Three, early days of SPN, etc.) had an understanding that fandom participation was an act of free will and probably one of the last communities left where participation wasn’t charged an entry fee. you consumed, created, and reveled for free. for many people, it was a stepping stone into careers in original fiction and general artistry, while for others, it was a way to hobbetize skills that they were already using for their day jobs. fandom participation was, for even the largest of fandoms, an act of community participation because fandom, in its very essence, is a community made up of willing participants who can join and back out whenever they feel like it, a luxury that isn’t allowed in day-to-day life.

no real point to this rambling nonsense, but i be thinkin, y’know? i started off in the fannish space as a literal child, pretty much grew up participating in different fandoms during different milestones in my life, and now, almost twenty years after the first time i published a fanfic on ff.net, i see even the smallest of fandoms get infected by purity brigades touting friendship and magic, but like, these are the same characters that are sending out virtual mob hits because some clown shipped the wrong ship. markets are controlled with fear of persecution, and god forbid you post whacky content only you and two other people enjoy (shoutout to that one clown who decided to shame asta/liebe nation during the “is AMD asta’s pappy debacle,” i hope you have a truly awful day, and continue to have terrible, no good days!!).

what happens when the clowns in their circus start to ship the wrong ships? and even begin to entertain the idea of a problematique concept for a piece of fanwork? are they gonna start persecuting thought crimes? i mean, i think we all know the answer to that *coughYES BC PURITY CULTS ARE SELF-CANNIBALIZING STRUCTUREScough* but like, it still perturbs me is all. you’d think creating and consuming for free would teach people to appreciate that in the real world, free consumption is a luxury few people can experience. but like, instead of being thankful that sulema from mexico is drawing amazing fanart for free, you got katherine from ohio telling you to cancel sulema cuz sulema likes to draws the totties huge. never mind that katherine will now be charging you $30 for a sketch of said character with modest tetas. they wont create for free, of course not, they’re broke and from ohio! now you gotta pay for some shit the homies from all over the world were creating for free cuz some loud white bitch said it’s problematique.

tl;dr: stop giving puriteens and moral purity brigade members your money and contributing to cult-like behaviors. read a book. go outside (with your mask). help your parents with their bills instead of stayed holed up in your room. maybe take a walk and think about what you’ll make for dinner instead of staking your entire personality/identity on whether or not fuegoleon is white and inbred.

#the last line is a shoutout to the anon who kept sending me hatemail :'>#black clover #real talk #fandumb #sunday post before i go out with the homies #*3*

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dewitty1 · 1 month

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Saturday Six (Stuff)

Back at the Farmer's Market today. Still annoyed about how I was spoken to the last time I was there. As if the market manager is my boss, which is not the case. And I'm still pissed that someone who I thought was my friend has broken my confidence.( ಠ ಠ )

There was an ambulance at the market today too. And I had to make the cringe/awkward smile thing you make when you have to interact with a MAGAT pos (they were wearing the propaganda that's how I knew). Also my weirdo neighbor showed up and didn't even recognize me.٩(•̤̀ᵕ•̤́๑)ᵒᵏᵎᵎᵎᵎ

My windshield leaked during the thunderstorm we had last night, so I'm going to have to take it to my landlords again.(*｀へ´*)

The Dudette hates her new job, which is unsurprising being that it's Walmart. And some person had to go and be a dickhead to her on her first real day.（’-’*)

My suit for the wedding that's coming up soon is going to be fantastic! All the way down to my sapphire sparkly shoes!“ψ(｀∇´)ψ

Business is really shite right now and idek what to do. I need some good vibes for some projects before I leave for Wales. (๑•́ ω •̀๑)

#Saturday Six #About me #Personal #Please do not rebloggle #August 17 2024 #Carey rambles about life and stuff and things and how it's all kinda shite rn but I'm looking forward to having a good time in Wales anyway #Even though I won't have any money it looks like #Which is not good because I'll have ask the parental units or my BFF ugh #Anyway I hope you all are having a good day or night wherever you are in the world #Thank you for reading my nonsensical rambles whenever I post them here #I appreciate y'all so much #Hugsss from mom or just a friend whatever you need right now because I know I need hugsss rn ٩(๑•◡-๑)۶ⒽⓤⒼ❤💜💙💚💛❤️💗💕💖#Now back to your regularly scheduled programming

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scoundrels-in-love · 4 years

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Today still is not my ficversary, however, this time were’ just one day off and I think this is as good time as any to make a small celebration post.

On 14th October last year, I posted my first story for Braime on AO3, after not publishing anything for almost 2 whole years. Although I had already started fiddling with writing before that moment, I had never thought I’d end up posting anything for real.

But now a year later, here is list of things I have done:

Published 61,413 words

Written another 37,667 words (by quick calculation) that may or may not see the light of day eventually

Which, oddly, means I’ve shared more writing that I’ve scrapped or abandoned and I think that’s beautiful

Successfully participated in a fic exchange with a story that also happens to be my longest complete story at 7,153 words

Published a story I first thought of well over year ago and I thought I couldn’t write because it was too much of everything

Started a multichapter that I fully intend to see through to end, even if it takes me a year

Started several series that have multiple installments and I am quite happy with the pacing I’ve made for them

Finished a draft of fanfic from 2 years ago which still makes me very hopeful, when I think about it

Grown as a writer, I think, from the style to simply figuring the pacing of something that’s larger than single, isolated scene

And last, but one of the most important, I’ve been inspired, awed and mind-fucked by authors that I’ve had chance to speak with, to even befriend, share my writing with

So here are some thank yous to the people who made this possible. Quite literally.

Thank you to @youholdthewater and @bienchanter who are not really part of the fandom, but have faithfully encouraged my writing, even read it, listened to me whine extensively and hand held me through the whole process. And for actually pushing me to start writing, when I was still “noo, I will fuck these characters up!”. (I did, but it was fun.)

Thank you to @nire-the-mithridatist who was also my first fandom friend to be like, nudge nudge, you should write if you keep whining about it. And then I did. And she’s been enduring my still persistent complaining ever since, while also inspiring me at every turn with how she writes and sees the world, with the kind of person she is.

Thank you to @firesign23 who started as author-crush, but now Betas my stories?? Don’t be afraid to yell in vicinity of your favorite people, kids, you might actually get to bug them with your brainmush ideas in few month’s time so they can try to assemble them. I am so thankful for her support and warmth and the way we same brain-wave so much things. Our salt mines are legendary, but so is she.

Thank you to @aviss who is wonderful well of stories, love and support, sometimes in form of the best cat photos in the world. Will we ever stop bouncing the ‘ugh the way you write is great, I wish I could do that!’ back and forth? No one knows.

Thank you @it-may-be-dull-but-im-determined for her understanding just how it is to live with the brain we do, her interest in my stories when I myself couldn’t muster it, for her sweetness. I will always wait as long as you need for your breathtaking writing and it means so much you might as well for mine.

Thank you to @ajoblotofjunk that I still can’t believe reads my stories and listens to my nonsensical ramblings with nothing but support and encouragement. Whenever I even consider writing something epic sized, I always have to think ‘if I can do it just a little like sdwolfpup, I will have done well’.

Thank you to @letters-to-theo and @nossbean and @naomignome who have given me some of the most wonderful, engaging, joy-bringing and tear inducing comments on my stories I never thought I could have. And our conversations have been a bright spark on some really blurry days. You guys are dream come true.

But that’s not all!! There’s so many wonderful authors that have contributed to this year and my writing, by just existing. If I’ve had the chance to talk with them, even if it is to assault them with music recs, even better. If I forgot someone, I am very sorry! It was not intentional. My brain is just going zoom zoom with names right now.

@albatrossisland @aliveanddrunkonsunlight @angel-deux-writes @brynnmck @ddagent @lionoflannistarth @luthienebonyx @kiraziwrites @kurikaesu-haru @pretty--thief @ofaclassicalmind @robotsdance @samirant @slipsthrufingers

Thank you, again, to everyone that writes, to anyone who reads, to anyone who engages in conversations. You make writing fun, bearable and actually... Just possible. Thank you for joining me on this year in writing, even if you didn’t know you’re actually on this ride because you’re the scenery I’m admiring.

#follow forever #in a sense #rainy's ficversary #if this doesn't tag anyone I will actually scream #rainy rambles

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flamehairedwritings · 4 years

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The Fiancé: Chapter Three

Characters: Steve Rogers x Female Plus-Size Reader

Rating: The whole series will be E, 18+ Only

Summary: A lie about your best friend at a Christmas party spirals into world news, but a previously unknown threat leaves you having to now live the lie of Steve Rogers being your fiancé.

Originally based on the prompt ‘Character A’s ex will be at the Christmas Party A is attending. Character B poses as A’s fiancé,’ by @alloftheprompts.

A/N: The whole series will include swearing, alcohol, threat, violence, protected sex, and more tags to be added!

The Fiancé Masterlist

All Works Masterlist

Read on AO3

Please don’t copy or steal my work, and please don’t post it on any other sites; credit does not count.

You, Me, and The World

“Right...”

She’s looking at you, you’re looking at her.

“I didn’t tell anyone else,” she whispers after a few, silent moments.

“I believe you, Dolly, it’s all right.”

You’re internally panicking, externally, actually, too, probably, from the way she’s looking at you. You open your mouth, then close it, then open it again after taking a breath.

“Right. If you could just tell her that... I’m in a meeting right now... but that I will call... her back.”

Dolly nods slowly. “Okay... All right...” She nods again, and then closes the door and you watch her run towards her desk.

You sit back and stare at your computer screen. The article is still up, and you can’t stop yourself from continuing to read it.

Update! The lucky, lucky lady of Cap’s dreams is Y/N, Head of Marketing at June & Mayflower Publishing! A regular old person, we’re glad Cap is so down-to-earth! Our sources say they’ll be announcing the date of the wedding within the next couple of days, and we’re so excited!

Along with the update is a picture of you, taken from your Instagram account. You’re smiling into the camera, mid-laughter, a cocktail in your hand.

Oh my God...

You feel your phone buzzing in your bag and jerk forward, fumbling as you try to unzip it quickly. Grabbing your phone, it’s a number you don’t recognise. Expecting a call from a new client today, you answer it without thinking.

“Hello, Y/N speaking?”

“Hi, Y/N! I’m calling from Stars Today, congratulations on your engagement! I was just wondering if I could have a quick—”

You hang up, dropping your phone onto the desk and put your head in your hands as you groan, your eyes closed.

This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening...

How did they get your phone number? How did this even get out? Joe? Gwen? Someone else who had overheard your huge, stupid lie? You wonder how Steve is—

Your eyes snap open.

Steve.

Oh my fucking God.

You grab your phone again and unlock it, tapping and swiping quickly to find his number. Dialling, you hold it to your ear, biting at your lower lip. It rings, and rings, and rings... and goes to voicemail.

Shit, he probably can’t hear it while he’s jogging, or he has it on silent, or whatever, oh my God, this is insane...

Hanging up and locking your phone, you sit back, your gaze lifting to the window. The office has filled slightly, more and more people arriving and, yes, they’re all glancing in, murmuring to each other. They’re smiling, they’re all happy and delighted, but you just feel your heart sink lower and lower.

No, right, none of that, just clear it all up now, just go out there and say it was a lie, suck it up and feel humiliated for ten years, it’ll be fine.

Pushing your chair back, you clear your throat as you move around your desk, clutching your phone in one hand. Opening the door, you step out and people are already looking at you. Clearing your throat again, you inhale a breath and smile as they instantly go quiet.

“Hi, everyone, uhm...” You shift your stance as your gaze sweeps the room, everyone silent. “I’m sure you’ve all heard what has been said in the tabloids and I just wanted to—”

“You bitch!”

Any other time you would have been offended, but now you just want to curl up and die because of how overjoyed the voice is.

Bridget Sanderson, your closest friend in the office, and D.C besides Steve, marches through the door, pushes through the small group and grins at you, their mouth open.

“You engaged bitch! I knew something had to be going on! How could you not tell me?!”

You exhale a faint, and you feel like you’re about to faint, laugh and shake your head. “Oh, well, actually, Bridge’, and, uhm, everyone, you see the thing is—”

“So you’re giving the Monday morning pep-talks now, huh?”

Oh my God, will everyone please stop turning up to work on time.

CEO of June & Mayflower Publishing, and your boss, Yvette Adebayo arches an eyebrow at you as the group parts for her, removing her gloves.

“Oh, no, I was just—”

“Can I see you in my office?”

“Yep, absolutely.” You smile as she nods and heads for her own office. You follow after her, somewhat meekly.

Yvette is no-nonsense, hates a fuss, a scene, is the classiest woman you’ve ever met, and you hate disappointing her. That’s not to say she’s mean or cold or anything that the world labels assertive women in leadership roles as, you just bloody love her. As much as you love yourself, God, you want to be her.

Closing the door to her office as she removes her coat and hangs it up, you clasp your hands together, trying not to play with them nervously. Sitting down, she looks at you, folding her arms.

“So.”

“So...” you parrot, stretching the vowel out.

She arches an eyebrow.

Sighing, you drop your hands. “Oh, Yvette, this is a fucking nightmare, I’m not—”

“I know, I can see that it is, I’m not here to chastise you for not telling me or anything like that—”

“Yvette.”

She pauses, her eyebrows raising slightly as you’ve not once in your three years of working together interrupted her or used an exasperated tone. You probably look as helpless as you feel, too.

“Yvette, I’m... I’m not engaged.”

Her eyebrows rise higher. “... You’re not?”

“No.” You feel your face warming in embarrassment as you launch into your explanation, “It was just a stupid lie I told at the party to make Joe jealous.”

“Joe was there?” she frowns.

It’s not the most pressing of matters to address right now, but then you remember she hadn’t attended the party, knowing her employees wouldn’t fully relax with the big boss there.

God, she’s amazing.

“Yeah, he said Adam invited him as a plus-one. I suppose he’s back for the holidays to see his family, too.” You shake your head slightly, embarrassment returning. “And I just... whenever I see him or think about him I get so mad, he was such a pretentious asshole even when we were going out, I was actually working myself up to break up with him when he put in for the transfer which was a blessing in disguise and—”

“So, you wanted to get one over on him,” Yvette cuts you off from your rambling.

“Yeah, well...” You pull a slight face. “That kind of makes it sound like I used Steve... which I did...” You pull a face again before closing your eyes and pressing the heels of your palms to them, groaning. “Oh, God, I’m such an awful person...”

“No, you’re not, Y/N,” Yvette insists. “Joe was always an ass, thinking he was better than everyone, so I can completely understand why you would want to have a moment of superiority.”

“That still doesn’t make it okay, at all.” You fold your arms, blowing out a breath. “He just... He looked at me like it wasn’t possible. Like I couldn’t have Steve Rogers fall in love with me, or someone like him, and I hated that. Even when I was dating him there was always something about him that just... Made me feel like he was doing me a favour. That he was so amazing and a complete catch. So just once, for one second, I wanted him to think, ‘God, I missed out... She is worthy, she is incredible’.”

“Y/N.” You gaze meets Yvette’s as she leans forward. “You are worthy. Period. No matter what. Whoever you decide to be with, they’ll be damn lucky and they’ll know it.”

“I know, I know, I tell myself that and believe it most days, but...” You sigh heavily. “I used Steve. I did what everyone else does and put him on a pedestal and used his status and his iconography to just get back at my stupid ex when I’m supposed to be his friend. Sure, he’s a super-soldier and a, you know, super-hero but first and foremost, to me, he’s my friend and a human being. And I dismissed all that for one tiny, stupid moment of wanting to feel smug.” You can feel tears starting to fill your eyes.

Wiping at them quickly, you blow out another, slightly shaky breath.

“Y/N,” Yvette says gently, “It was a dumb thing that you did, but a human thing. You made a mistake, and we can rectify it.” You watch her as she turns her computer on and straightens her back. “We’ll write a press-statement that we can release, it doesn’t need to give specifics, just that there’s been a misunderstanding, and then you can tell everyone you actually know as little or as much as you want.”

God, you are actually about to cry, she’s just the absolute bloody best.

A smile pulling at your lips, you wipe your eyes again. “Thank you, Yvette. I mean it, you really are—”

“You fucking bitch!”

God, I wish Bridge’ would stop calling me that—

As Yvette’s eyes widen, though, and you turn to look out of her window to the office floor, you realise it’s not Bridget. A young woman, sobbing, steps out of the elevator. People stare, frozen to the spot, because this has never happened before, security in your building has always been incredible, and why would someone trespass on your floor? She’s striding across the room, too fast for people to clock on and react, pointing at you.

“You bitch! You don’t deserve him, he’s better than you!” she yells, thoroughly and completely distraught, but all you can do is remain frozen in your spot.

You can hear Yvette shouting into her office phone, demanding where security is, when four of them are suddenly there, shoving people out of the way and one of the men grabs the woman when she’s only a few feet away from the door. She screams as he wraps his arms around her to restrain her, hauling her back and having to lift her slightly. She just kicks her legs out, thrashing and trying to get free.

“You bitch, you bitch, you bitch!” she screams over and over and over, and you’re still frozen.

The security man drags her back towards the elevator, another man accompanying him, and the remaining two, a man and a woman, continue towards you. The woman opens the door, shaking her head as she steps inside.

“We’re so sorry, there’s just so many of them down there, she must have just slipped through. Are you okay?”

You stare at her.

“There’s more?” Yvette asks.

The woman looks to her. “Yeah, they just started turning up, some are fans, some are paparazzi.” Her gaze returns to you. “Again, we’re so sorry, we’re increasing our team for the foreseeable future, it won’t happen again.”

You think you might actually faint now.

“Okay. Thank you,” you hear yourself saying.

The woman nods and steps out of the room, pulling the door shut behind her.

“Y/N, are you all right?” Yvette asks gently as you turn to her, your lips parted.

“Uhm...”

When you don’t continue after a few moments, she nods and moves around her desk towards you. “Take the day off. Alice and I’ll draft a statement later. Is there someone who can come and pick you up?”

You nod a few times as she squeezes your shoulder gently. “Uh, yeah, there’s someone I can call.”

—

Natasha Romanoff beams when you exit the elevator and approach. Beams. She’s smiled at you before, sure, several times, but this is a beam. And then she opens her mouth.

“Oh my God, I’m so glad you’re telling people now!”

I’m fucking sorry, what?

Before you can mutter that this is actually not something you’re quite ready to joke about yet, she throws her arms around you and hugs you tightly. “Oh, I’m just so happy!”

You just stand there, holding your bag, as she rocks you, having never felt so confused in your life.

“Uh—”

“Right, yeah, no time, let’s get you home, huh?” She’s no longer beaming when she pulls back, instead looking incredibly sympathetic in a way that doesn’t make you feel any better. Patting your arm, she looks behind you and nods at Yvette and the two security guards who have accompanied you down into the private underground garage that belongs to the building. “I’ll take it from here, thank you.”

Dropping her hand, she moves to her black Corvette a few feet away and opens the passenger door, holding it open for you and gesturing for you to get in. Looking over your shoulder at Yvette, you manage to return her smile before heading to the car. Getting in, you place your bag on the floor between your feet as Nat closes the door, and buckle your seatbelt before closing your eyes, exhaling a long breath. You open your eyes when the driver’s door opens and Nat slides into the seat, closing the door.

“Nat, I—”

“What an exciting day. You must be so over-joyed!”

She’s beaming at you again as she starts the engine after buckling her own seatbelt, but something about her tone tells you she isn’t actually joking around.

“Nat, do you—”

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you okay? It must have been terrifying with that woman getting in.” She looks genuinely concerned this time as she steers the Corvette up a ramp and onto the main street level.

“Uh, yeah, it was actually, but, uhm, I—”

“It’s all right, we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” She pauses for half a second to check the street as the barrier lifts before she turns onto it and, fuck, you forgot how fast she drives. “We’ll just get you home, then you can relax and we’ll do what we can, okay?”

“Yeah, right, okay, but—”

She turns the radio on, turning the volume up a few numbers, and taps her fingertips against the steering wheel. “Have you spoken to Steve?”

Your heart sinks at the reminder of him and how this must all be affecting him because of you. “No, not yet,” you murmur, playing with your hands in your lap. “Have you?”

“Yeah, he can’t wait to see you.”

He must be fucking desperate with how fast you’re going.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, he’s at your place, popping open a bottle of champagne I should think.” She glances at you, beaming again, and you just frown.

What the hell is going on.

Something tells you, though, to not broach the subject again, so you lean your head back and mutter, “Yeah, I’m gonna need a fucking drink.”

It doesn’t take long for Nat to reach your apartment, and you still don’t understand how someone can be a fast and safe driver. You’re about to say as much, because you can’t do a single journey with her and not, when she parks in front of the building. Right in front of it. You pause in unbuckling the seatbelt you had been gripping, frowning at her, because she never does this as your building also has its own underground garage, and she loves her car.

“Nat, what about the garage?”

She unbuckles her seat belt and reaches over you to the glove compartment. “Oh, I won’t be staying long.” She pulls a box out of the compartment, closes it and sits back, opening the box. She opens the box to reveal sunglasses and puts them on. Sunglasses.

Leaving the box on the dashboard, she smiles at you and pushes her door open, stepping out. Grabbing your bag and doing the same, you watch her as she closes her door and looks up and down the street. Then, she looks to you as you close your door, her smile lingering.

“Come on, let’s get that drink, shall we.”

You reach the front doors of your apartment building first, and unzip your bag, searching for your keys. As you pull them out, Nat takes your bag from you, her smile still there.

“Here, I’ll hold this for you.”

“Okay.” Deciding to just go along with whatever is happening until you’re in your apartment, you turn and unlock the door. Faint Christmas music plays over a small speaker on a wall, and the building guard, Aaron, who you’d say you’re quite friendly with, looks at you from his place by the mailboxes as you enter and you nod at him. He nods, then gives you a thumbs up as he grins.

Oh, God.

“Way to go, Y/N! I had no idea!”

“Yep, okay, Aaron,” you murmur as your face heats and you stride towards the elevator. Nat is close behind you and you press the button to herald the elevator as she stops beside you. Then, you glance at her, frowning.

She’s searching through your bag, opening pockets and unzipping compartments.

“What are you doing?” you murmur, raising your eyebrows as she takes the spare pens you always keep in your bag out before slotting them back into their compartment.

“Nothing,” she says without even looking up at you.

Right.

Your jaw moves as the elevator ‘ding’s and the doors slide open. Incredibly grateful to find no one inside, you step in and turn to the buttons, pressing the button for your floor as Nat also steps in.

The moment the doors close, you turn to her, your hands going to your waist, your keys digging in to you even through your coat. “What the hell is going on, Nat?”

She doesn’t say anything, continuing to search through your bag. Your eyebrows raise as you release a scoff of disbelief because she’s ignoring you.

“Nat?”

Finally, she zips your bag back up and lifts her head, holding it out to you. You can’t tell if she’s satisfied or unsatisfied, and she’s silent, her gaze holding yours. Taking your bag, you shoulder it and press your lips together. You’re angry, confused, definitely dissociating somewhat, but something else is starting to creep up now. Fear.

The ‘ding’ of the elevator makes you jump slightly. Nat’s through the doors first this time, beckoning you to follow. You do, gripping the strap of your bag tightly. Your keys are biting into your skin as you shift them in your hand as you walk, and you find the key to your front door, Nat pausing by it. You unlock it, glancing at her. Her eyes are on the hall behind you, her features expressionless. Your heart pounding, you push your door open. Stepping in, you lift your head and pause, finding Sam Wilson stood in your living room area.

He turns and grins, holding his arms out wide.

“Y/N! Congratulations!” he laughs as he moves towards you, and your bag falls from your shoulder as you hear Nat close the door behind you.

As his arms go around you in a hug you would usually be delighted to return, you just stand there, again, feeling tears of irritation start to prick at your eyes because what the hell is happening.

You’re speaking before you even realise. “Can someone please tell me what in the absolute fuck is—”

“All right, the place is clear.”

Steve appears from your bathroom, making you break off, your eyes darting up to him. Sam releases you then, holding your shoulders gently, his smile gone. “Y/N, are you all right?”

You look from him to Steve, your lips parted. “No, I’m not. What the hell is going on?”

Nat moves around you and pushes her sunglasses onto her head as Sam drops his hands. “Sorry about all that, Y/N. We’ll explain in a moment.” She raises her eyebrows at Sam slightly, gesturing him over to the large window that looks down onto the front street of the building. “Sam?”

Giving you a reassuring smile, though you absolutely don’t feel reassured, Sam follows her, leaving you standing there, looking at Steve. His arms are by his sides, and he exhales a breath as he moves towards you, an expression you can’t describe on his features.

“Y/N—”

“Oh, Steve,” you quickly interrupt, unable to bear whatever he’s about to say, good or bad or disappointed, because no matter what, this is your fault. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—”

He shakes his head, his hands replacing where Sam’s had been, warm and light. “Y/N, are you okay? Nat messaged about what happened at the office, I’m glad you called her.”

You look at him in disbelief, your hands having found his chest at some point. “Yeah, I’m fine, are you okay?”

A corner of his mouth lifts, softening his features instantly as his thumbs stroke your shoulders. “I’m fine, Y/N, I—”

“Really? You can say if you’re not, I would absolutely understand, actually you should be pissed off with me, Steve—”

“Y/N, Y/N, it’s all right,” he says gently, having heard, as you’d tried not to, the slight cracking in your voice. He draws you closer, his arms going around you in a warm embrace.

You realise, in that moment, that neither of you hug very much. You see each other so often that all you greet each other with is a hello, or you just high five when something exciting happens. Hugs are reserved for when you’re thanking each other for a present or when... You can’t really think of any other time. Even when you have a cry, you’ll both sit down and he’ll pat and rub your back, and you’ve never seen him cry at anything more than a movie, so.

God, we should hug more, this is nice.

“So...” Sam’s voice has you pulling back, Steve’s arms falling from you as you turn to him, a smile tugging at his lips. “How did this happen, or do I just not have my RSVP yet?”

You tilt your head, your lips pressing together. Yeah, you’re definitely not ready to joke about it yet. You might not ever.

“Well...” Moving to the couch, you take a seat as you blow out a breath, your face already warming again.

Here we go, my now permanent state of embarrassment continues.

They’re all looking at you, Sam leaning against the wall, glancing out of the window every now and then, Nat sat on the arm of the couch opposite you, Steve standing between you and Nat, his hands in his pockets.

Clearing your throat, your hands on your knees, you lick your lips. “So... When Steve and I were at my work party last Saturday, my ex-boyfriend was there and I told him that...” You take a short breath, glancing at Steve before deciding to settle your gaze on the coffee table. “... Steve was my fiancé, because...” You just can’t bring yourself to say it. “... Well, I don’t know why, really.” You move on quickly. “So, when I got to work today, Dolly said Gwen from work overheard me saying it to Joe, so she could have spread it, or Joe could have, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking—”

“Joe is the ex-boyfriend?”

You gaze darts from where you had been looking at Steve to apologise to Nat.

“Yeah. He lives in Chicago but he’s back for the holidays, I’m assuming.”

“How long were you two together?”

“Only a few months—”

“Did he ever meet Steve?”

You frown lightly at her. “Only at the party, why?”

Her hands are clasped together, her eyes fixed on you. “What’s his last name?”

“Havers. Joe Havers. Why?”

“When did he start working at your place? When did you start seeing each other?”

You look at Sam, who’s looking out of the window, then to Steve, who’s looking at the ground, then back to Nat. “About a year ago. We started dating a month after, and then he broke up with me when he transferred to the Chicago branch the August that’s just gone. Why—”

“Did he ask you out? Pursue you?”

You release a breath, your frown returning. “Yeah, and I guess, but, like, in the way you would when you want to date someone—”

“Did you ever meet his family? Friends?” She’s unrelenting, expressionless.

“Well, no, but he never met Steve during that time, either—”

“Did he ask to?”

“No.” You exhale in frustration, your jaw moving. “Look, what��s going on, Nat? You’d said you’d tell me.”

She lifts her hands slightly. “We just have to look at every option, Y/N.”

Your frown returns as you look at them. “Option for what? Who spread it?”

There’s silence. Your eyebrows raise. Sam meets your gaze for a second before looking back out the window, Steve’s still looking at the floor, and so Nat, once again, is your only option. Your eyebrows rise higher as she tilts her head.

“Y/N... We need you to continue being Steve’s fiancé.”

You stare at her, your lips parted. “... I’m sorry... What? Why?”

As slight as it is, it’s the first time you’ve seen Nat look uncomfortable. “You’ve already encountered a rather... over-zealous fan, and, we’ve got intel that suggests some... unsavoury characters are using the chatrooms and blogs that they operate to track Steve’s whereabouts.”

You arch an eyebrow, releasing a breath and not quite knowing what to address first. Irritation blends with anger and you focus on that because you don’t want to feel anymore afraid than you already are. “’Unsavoury characters’? I’m a big girl, Nat, you don’t have to sugarcoat whatever this is.”

She glances at Steve for a fraction of a second. “All right, terrorists. Terrorists are using chatrooms to plan to assassinate Steve.”

Your mood shifts instantly. A coldness sweeps over you and fear envelops you as you look at Steve, who is finally looking at you, your eyes wide. “Why the fuck would they want to do that?”

Steve opens his mouth but Nat gets there first.

“Steve is America’s greatest living symbol. Can you imagine what kind of message it would send from any group should Steve be killed?”

You look between them all, your mouth open. Nat continues after a moment, not liking the idea of that statement hanging in the air.

“We need you to spend this week doing what happily engaged couples do. Cake tasting, wedding dress shopping, visit venues, hold hands, look completely in love, all of that so that we can see who turns up and who follows him.”

You close your eyes for a moment, your brow furrowing, before you release a breath and look at her. “So, I’m... I’m, we’re bait?”

Nat’s features soften. “Y/N, you and Steve couldn’t be safer, I promise. We’re going to move you both to a new apartment with proper security, the place’ll be watched around the clock and it’s only until Saturday evening.”

“Why Saturday?”

She rests her hands either side of herself on the arm of the couch. “We’ve been hearing chatter that that’s when they’re planning to attack, at the party with the world watching. So we need to identify who they are before then. Obviously.”

“Right.” You stare at her for a few moments before your gaze drops to the table. You haven’t quite been able to get a handle on your breathing for the last hour, but now it really is difficult. Your hands are gripping your knees, and you have to swallow hard to stop the bile rising in your throat.

“Y/N, you don’t have to.” Your eyes lift at Steve’s quiet tone. Then you realise what the expression is; regret.

You release another breath. “Are you kidding me, your life is in danger, why didn’t you tell me this?”

His mouth lifts a fraction. “It’s not exactly what I want to race home and tell you about.”

Your chest tightens. You make your mind up instantly. You look at Nat.

“I’ll do it.”

She nods, giving you a small smile. “You can’t tell anyone it’s not real, and be careful when you’re speaking on the phone, they could tap it.”

Ah, so that’s why Nat had checked your bag and Steve and Sam had been checking your place, and probably why Steve hadn’t answered your—

Oh, shit, wait...

Your shoulders drop slightly. “Oh, my boss knows.”

“Yvette?” Nat slides her phone out of her pocket as she looks at you.

“Yeah, I spoke to her earlier, before the... fan, and she asked me how I was and I told her.”

“Right.” Nat arches an eyebrow, tapping something into her phone. “Can she keep a secret?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

Nat smiles at your fierce certainty, locking her phone and keeping ahold of it. “We’ll need to speak with her, anyway, let her understand the severity of the situation so she won’t trust anyone. That’s good actually ‘cause you’re gonna need to take the week off work.”

Your heart sinks. “What, why?”

“You need to spend every moment with Steve, and I think this would be a natural thing to do. We can have a press release put out saying you don’t want your work bombarded like earlier, you won’t be able to concentrate—”

You raise your hand, pointing a finger. “Hang on, I can multi-task and work under any conditions.”

Nat’s lips twitch. “We know that, Y/N, I’m not discrediting how good of a worker you are, we just need the rest of the world to think that.”

You bristle slightly as you press your lips together, your shoulders dropping again.

Her amusement vanishes, her features softening. “It’s just until Sunday, then we can let everyone know the truth. This is a great chance for us to find these guys, Y/N. We wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important or useful, but you can still say no.”

There’s a long pause. You glance at Steve, he’s still got that same expression, almost pained. You could say no; you think it would almost relieve him if you did. You know him well enough by now that he’s probably full of regret for putting you in this position by being your friend.

Well, Steve, I get the guilt card on this one, it was me who put us in this position.

You've always known the risks of being associated with him and being his friend. You’ve never spoken about it with each other but you’ve just always known, it’s how his world operates. But he wanted to be your friend and you wanted to be his, so why the fuck shouldn’t you be. Something that had come up in one of your first, long, late-night conversations is the sense of loneliness you both feel. Sure, you have friends, both of you, and you both work in very people-orientated careers, but... Loneliness just seems to linger, uninvited. You’ve never felt that loneliness with Steve.

And now some fuckers wanted to kill him.

You look at Nat. “Yeah, I want to do it.”

She gives you another smile, nodding. “All right.” Rising to her feet, she folds her arms. “I guess we got some packing to do, then.”

You’re about to look at Steve, hoping to reassure him that you really do want to do this, when Sam lets out a low whistle.

“Well, Nat... Think there’s gonna be some scratches on your fancy car.”

Pushing yourself up from the couch, you move to the window as Nat tuts under her breath, and join Sam. Your stomach flips as you gaze down and see the crowd of people on the street, surrounding her car and staring up at the building or at the entrance. There’s a couple of news vans, too, reporters and their cameras hovering by them, gripping their microphones and glancing up every few seconds, waiting.

Oh my God... There’s gonna be three people in this so-called relationship; me, him and the world.

—

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chaninfused · 4 years

Photo

Today, this mediocre blog turns one year old.

And it’s not much, but it’s something, for sure. I’m happy to be writing this, mainly because I didn’t expect to write it in the first place. Coming here, I had no aspirations for this blog. Write and post, that was my initial intent, but I’m glad to say I have found and created much more. As cliché as it sounds, I’ve learned and improved quite a lot, both as a person and a writer. Never in my life had I imagined myself writing y/n stories, yet here I am, and I’m content.

As much as I complain, I cannot deny that this place made this year bearable so far. Everyone, from my friends to my silent readers, made this experience fun, despite the various disappointments of 2020 (ahem, a ruined senior year). For that, I think it’s time to move to the important parts of this letter; all I have to say to you!

First, I must thank the friends that gave me something to look forward to each day. I am honored to have met you all, whom I have spoken to daily or spontaneously. Thank you for keeping up with my sucky person antics!

@luvhjs, I often wonder if we could’ve ever met if @skzwritersclub didn’t exist, or if you didn’t decide to join our fetus network, and I always conclude that it’s not something I want to think about. Simply because it’s horrifying. I might not express it properly, but our friendship is one I treasure beyond words. Thank you for panicking with me over silly things, listening to my nonsense rambles, and in all sincerity, being the best there is. A hundred ‘I love you’s randomly arriving in your inbox would never be enough, but I hope you know that I love you, and I wish you all the best, all the time ♡

@missinghan, I don’t know where to begin, and honestly, I don’t know where to stop either. I don’t regret screaming into your dms that day, although I’m deeply sorry for terrifying you (oops!). All jokes aside, I truly don’t know what I’ve done to deserve a friend like you. I’m grateful for each conversation we’ve had, even that one about maggot cheese or those depressing texts about our dying dashboards. I solemnly believe that I would’ve lost my mind during spring break had we not spent careless hours on Tumblr talking about anything that could possibly be talked about. I feel like I couldn’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me; for hearing my writing rants to handling my dramatics to just being there when I send a good morning text in all caps. You are incredible, it is not just a silly nickname. I love you, and I know affection is gross but I’m saying it again. I love you! ♡

@meiiyue, hey, remember when you told me you knew me from Wattpad? That was our first proper interaction, and I am so glad I had gotten to know you better after that. We often joke about it, but I love your love for all things murder. Please never let anyone’s opinions get in your way. You honestly have one of the most unique personalities I’ve ever known. I mean, where else would you find koalas and blood-chilling crime in one place? Thank you for being the cutest and most talented. I hope you know that you’re loved, and I love you, and it will always be that way ♡

@meanhly, oh, look, it’s my keyboard smashing partner! I’m glad you decided to panic about On track in my dms instead of my askbox. Thank you for birthing this beautiful friendship! Speaking of which, what friendship level are we at now, Selina? Okay, I’ll stop fooling around. Thank you for never failing to make me laugh, no thanks to your autocorrect for calling me fruit, though. I think one of the reasons I love the Songless Bird so much is, well, you! It was your excitement about the story that pushed me to explore the world more, to write more. I cannot even begin to express how thankful I am for that. I love you, so much, and I cherish our friendship just as much ♡

@smileylino, our ‘02 line is only complete with you, Rain. Thank you for being the best panic partner (hehe) and the cutest Minho stan. Talking to you is always so much fun, even if we’re just discussing memes or soft scenarios. I don’t know how successfully your Minho detox is going, but I miss your random declarations of love for the one and only. I hope you know that you’re really talented, and I’ll always be here to cheer you on whenever. You deserve only the best this world can offer. I know you’ll do amazing, whatever it is you’ll be doing. I love you! ♡

@lixiefe, if anyone were to see our first interactions, they wouldn’t expect us to become good friends. Yet here we are, and I wouldn’t change that for the world! I love talking to you, even if it’s about the strangest of topics. Thank you for making me love my own work. You make it out to be something special, which it isn’t, but I appreciate that so much. Thank you for handling my self-deprecating statements with hilarious poop references, even though I am still adamantly against them (kidding!). You’re special, I hope you’d know that. I love you so much! ♡

@scriptura-delirus, we might not interact a lot but whenever we do, it’s always so much fun. I truly admire your work and your way of thinking. Thank you for writing the best fantasy to be found in this fandom, and for all the support you’ve shown my mediocre stories. If this were a follow forever, know that your url would be among the first. I love you! ♡

@jeonginks, can I consider you a friend? I hope I can. The entirety of my first interactions with you consisted of me embarrassing myself, from that useless blurb to all that panicking. Thank you for not blocking me yet... I am very sure that without SWC, I wouldn’t have ever talked to you. And while I might not panic anymore, you are still someone I genuinely look up to when it comes to writing. I wish you’d know that you’re an inspiration, for me and many writers out there. Also, you can send me as many Liam memes as you want, I’ve become immune to them (phew). I presume this is called affection, but I love you! ♡

@scxrlettwxtches, writing or not, you’re a dear friend of mine. I’m terrible at expressing things, but I’m glad we started talking. Thank you for listening to all the unnecessary writing things I say. I love your work, even though I don’t say it enough. You might not know but your enthusiasm motivates me to write; all the random questions and spoiler requests. I’m sorry for [redacted] in ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat’. I hope I’ve been able to make up for that through the blurbs! All in all, I wish you all the best in everything you do, and I love you! ♡

@f3lixlvr, you are the first person I have properly spoken to in his hellhole. I remember our first conversations and just how much joy they brought me, even though I was hiding behind an anonymous profile. Thank you for being the most amazing and making late 2019 fun and exciting. I love you! ♡

@wingkkun, we only began directly interacting recently, but we’ve talked before. Your writing is great, beyond that, even. I’ll raid your masterlist one day, just you wait! You seem like a complete sweetheart, and I hope we can talk more in the future. Thank you for all the lovely tags you had left on my stories, I love you! ♡

@ammuqwer, you are a friend I didn’t expect to make, but one I wouldn’t want to lose for anything. Talking to you brightens my day, and I can only wish I can offer just as much happiness in yours. You’re amazing, really. If you ever have a hard time, please know that you can always find me. I love you! ♡

@p2q3r4, I often scroll through your blog and I have to say, you’re crazy talented. Your drawings are stunning! Thank you for all the comments you’ve left on my writings, I appreciate every single one of them. You’re also a complete sweetheart, have I ever told you that? And I love your love for languages, it never was annoying. Never stop being amazing, I love you! ♡

🌷 anon, I might not know who you might be, but you’re a friend I cherish so much, Tulip. I love talking to you, and I say that a lot, but hearing from you is always so lovely. Thank you for all the asks you’ve ever sent, those with tmi to those with Splatoon talk. I hope you know that I’ll always be there for you, whenever, wherever. I love you so much! ♡

Caeliman Minho anon, last but definitely not least. I’m afraid this short letter wouldn’t do you justice, but I hope you’d know that you mean a lot to me. Thank you for all the support you’ve shown my work, all the inspiration you’ve given me, and all the thoughts you’ve generously shared. I love hearing what you have to say, and I love you! Thank you for everything ♡

Second, to all my readers, those who always reblog, those who leave a trail of hearts behind, and even those who just pass by, thank you for giving my writings a chance. I am continuously motivated to write more and write better for you. I’m nowhere near that, but I’m slowly making my way up there. Thank you for being the best audience ♡

Finally, to you reading this, thank you for reaching this far. It has only been a year, and I hope I can continue to contribute to this fandom for much longer than that.

Today, a story was meant to be posted. Due to my poor management skills (yikes!), I will instead be posting the world-information edit for ‘Danse Macabre’. Please look forward to it!

That is all. Thank you for making these 365 days on this blog special, and here’s to many more! I love you all! ♡

#furat iskiti 🖇️

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angels-heap · 4 years

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Okay hello I feel like you are Wise and Know things... it’s kind of hard to explain but is it wrong to just... Enjoy Things? With all the HL pisscourse going around it’s making me nervous about liking things like TF2 and missing something critical and huge in the media I consume and being labelled as a bad person for doing that. ESPECIALLY for liking characters like GLaDOS or Wheatley from Portal. I want to just Enjoy Things but there’s guilt tied to not being critical about every single detail

Thanks for reaching out, friend, and I’m so sorry to hear the current nonsense has you feeling this way. I have a hunch you’re not alone, and although I don’t claim to have all the answers here, I hope hearing my thoughts on this helps alleviate some of that guilt. This got long and I’m not putting it under a cut because it’s important.

The short answer to your question is no; it is not wrong to just enjoy things. You don’t have to constantly examine all your favorite media under a microscope and incessantly highlight or dwell on its faults to be a good person or a good consumer of media, and here are a few reasons why:

(CW for brief mentions of all the squicky/potentially triggering things that tend to come up in ship discourse conversations.)

1. It is virtually impossible to find a truly unproblematic piece of media.

And that’s okay! Media is both created and consumed by people, and people are notoriously imperfect and complex. Sometimes creators choose to explore dark or taboo themes that are always going to squick some people out, no matter how well (or poorly) they’re handled. Sometimes content creators are actually terrible people who deliberately try to perpetuate their messed-up ideas through media. Sometimes creators’ deeply internalized prejudices seep into a work in a way they may not even consciously realize. Sometimes consumers’ experiences or prejudices color the way they perceive a piece of media and may lead them to a very different interpretation than what the creators intended.

Point is, there are a lot of shades of gray here. We should always strive to do better as creators and consumers, but the goalposts for “perfection” are always moving.

There’s almost always going to be something about your favorite media—no matter how benign it is—that rubs some people the wrong way, or (perhaps unintentionally) perpetuates harmful stereotypes, or starts out okay but doesn’t age well down the line. Period. That’s an uncomfortable truth that we all have to sit with. But don’t despair, because…

2. It is still okay to engage with and enjoy media that you know is problematic. Even if it’s really problematic. For real. I promise. The media you consume does not determine your worth as a person.

Since you specifically mentioned Valve games, I’ll start out by clarifying that (as of July 2020), Valve games and their fandoms are pretty benign overall. Perhaps in the future, more of the humor will start to age poorly, or Valve will make some extremely questionable design choices with their next game, or Gabe Newell will be outed as a prolific serial killer, or whatever, but for now, there’s really nothing about Valve games that should make the average person go, “holy shit, you’re into that?!” when you bring them up in polite company. (And anyone who insinuates otherwise re: Half Life shipping discourse is either very confused about the definition of certain words or is maliciously trying to stir up controversy.)

That said, everyone has a different threshold for what they do and don’t want to see in media, and those boundaries are totally valid! But it is absolutely possible to enjoy even notably problematic media (e.g., Game of Thrones, the new Star Wars sequels, old movies where the directors were huge assholes to the female cast members, etc.) without being a bad person or a bad social justice activist. Instead of rambling about that at length, I’m going to link you to this excellent blog post on the subject.

The big takeaway here is that you can love a piece of media while also acknowledging its faults. In fact, I’d argue that a key part of loving something is being able to think critically about it and trying to hold its creators to a higher standard whenever possible. However, that doesn’t mean you have to be constantly analyzing it or prefacing every single public acknowledgment of your love for it with an “I know this is problematic and I swear, I just like it for XYZ” disclaimer, because…

3. Tumblr’s black-and-white thinking about media consumption is not healthy, “normal,” or (usually) present to the same degree in other virtual or real-world spaces.

I think most of the people on Tumblr who seem to be on a constant (and ultimately futile; see point 1) quest to find the One True Unproblematic Media have good intentions. I really do. And I applaud them for actively trying to understand and un-learn their own biases while becoming critical consumers of media.

Unfortunately, for a bunch of complicated reasons I still don’t totally understand and won’t get into here, some online communities tend to take these things to such an extreme that, in their quest to create a safe and/or inclusive environment, they actually end up creating an even more hostile one. To reference the recent drama again, nowhere is that more apparent than with “pro-ship” vs. “anti-ship” discourse.

Basically, “pro-shippers” believe that fiction is entirely separate from reality and therefore, “problematic” content (up to and including p*dophilia, inc*st, noncon, etc.) has just as much of a right to exist as any other content; this makes some sense on a purely intellectual level, but in the real world, obviously things are much more complicated than that. “Anti-shippers,” on the other hand, claim to be specifically against the aforementioned Big Three Bad Things in theory, but in practice, they’re basically the fandom purity police; they strive to criticize and shut down any media or fandom activity that could be even remotely construed as problematic, because they seem to have a (perhaps well-intentioned but ultimately misguided) perception that discussing anything “bad” in fiction will glorify/condone/promote it in real life and that all creators of “bad” fiction are inherently malicious. Often, they’re willing to twist definitions and jump through some very strange hoops to justify why something is “bad.”

The truth lies somewhere between those two extremes; fiction absolutely can (and does) impact reality, but not in such a clear-cut cause-and-effect way. People can see or read about dark/complicated/problematic things without condoning or enjoying them in real life, and conversely, people can dislike even relatively benign things without having to have an extreme, profound reason for feeling that way. People can also enjoy “bad” media while being fully conscious of what’s wrong with it and taking steps to ensure that it doesn’t negatively influence them, or they may lack the knowledge/context to understand why something is “bad” at first and change how they engage (or don’t engage) as they learn. There’s a lot more nuance to this issue than Tumblr is willing to acknowledge, and as a result, a lot of innocent people who just want to enjoy things in peace get sucked into some truly absurd drama that can be really hard to deal with. And that sucks. A lot.

So, TL;DR: Almost all media is at least a little problematic, but that’s okay, because the media you like does not determine whether or not you’re a good person. (And especially if your primary interests are Valve games... you’re good, mate. Seriously.)

The fact that you’re even asking me this question shows me that you’re being a thoughtful, responsible consumer of media, and that’s all anyone can reasonably ask of you without being a gigantic hypocrite—because whether they’ll admit it or not, everybody who’s perpetuating this discourse both on and offline likes something “problematic.” It’s impossible not to, unless you live under a rock and consume exactly zero media. Take care, and try not to let the discourse get to you! Go forth and enjoy things! (As always, my inbox is open for follow-up questions.)

ETA: Here’s another excellent tumblr post on this topic! And another one!

#asks #anon #fandom #ship discourse #sorry it took me so long to respond to this #I'm sure I left things out but here are some thoughts to get you started #long post

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