#and my past experiences are nothing compared to what i deal with now. for years my parents have left me to watch their children

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 17 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was certain Maverick didn't intend to stress him out when he said you and he were the spitting image of Goose and Carole. But suddenly, for better or for worse, it was all he could think about. There is so much to look forward to with you in his life, but now he has to break the worst kind of news to you.

Warnings: Fluff, oral sex, smut, angst, adult banter, Bradley in love, 18+

Length: 4800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley couldn't seem to stop grinning. Playing the part of tour guide for your class was a pleasure. The kids made fun of Jake, which was honestly lovely, and everyone got to experience different aspects of aviation, not just flying. You even made Cyclone smile, so you'd done the impossible there. Bradley had a grin on his face for the rest of the afternoon, and Nat kept ribbing him about it.

"Are the two of you going to get married and have eighteen kids?" she asked, feigning innocence like nobody else could.

"I know you're joking," he replied as he cleaned up and organized all of the noise canceling headphones. "You know how I know? Because you know how much money I make. I could never afford eighteen kids. It's gotta be like fifteen, tops."

"You never ever even joked about having a child before!" she said, tone accusatory.

Talking about you and thinking about you made him feel calm where no relationship he'd had in the past ever really did. "Come on, Nat. You know I'm serious about this one." 

She laughed in response. "Being in love for once instead of just settling for someone to keep you company looks good on you. It's about time you stopped fucking up." He planted his hand on top of her head, scrunched his fingers, and messed up her hair. "Stop it!" she screeched as he ran away across the tarmac as fast as he could and into the hangar where he found Marty.

Bradley peeked around to make sure she hadn't followed him as he made a beeline toward the mechanic. "Hey, I can't thank you enough for today," he told Marty, shaking his calloused hand.

"It was fun," he replied. "Some of those kids are future aviators, I'm telling you."

"Violet," they both said at the same time and started laughing.

"And Oliver is a bit of a daredevil," Bradley added as he helped Marty pack up his work station. "They've been learning about aviation for months, and I know today meant a lot to them."

Marty looked a little pensive before he nodded at Bradley. "You know what," he said in response as he locked his toolbox, "go ahead and tell your girlfriend that I'll be there for her career day as long as I'm not deployed."

Bradley cocked his head. "Career day. Right. I'll let her know." 

He had no idea what Marty was talking about, but it was just about time for him to head out for the day. By the time he got home from work, you'd probably be on your way back down from Mira Mesa. His thoughts were circling around Maverick's words from earlier. If he was reminded of Goose and Carole when he looked at Bradley with you, then no wonder this felt like the real deal. It must be just that.

But he was in his head now. He was desperate to keep you, because he knew all too well what loneliness felt like, but he couldn't stand the thought of you worrying about him. And the idea of anything happening to him while he was away from you was too much to handle. He rubbed his eyes as he walked to his Bronco. Being compared to his parents felt like a blessing and a curse.

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

The evenings were getting chilly this time of year, but you changed into the dress you wore on your first date with Bradley as soon as you got home. Then you quickly packed an overnight bag. Driving to work from his house tomorrow would be a true test. Nothing was going to be a complete deal breaker for you at this point, but you hoped it didn't leave you in tears of frustration. Or have Bradley trying to scramble to find a way to try to make you happy when you already were.

Your plan for the evening was to pick up some Thai food from the place he loved on your way to his house. When you texted Bradley to let him know you were leaving your place soon and that you hoped he was hungry, he wrote back one sentence.

All I want is you.

Every time you thought it would be impossible for him to continue to set off the butterflies in your tummy, he did it again. Your face felt warm, and you ran your palm along your cheek as you thought about every little detail of the field trip while you drove. He didn't just love you, he appreciated your job and your students. Your ex didn't even let you talk about them. Bradley let them rank the cafeteria foods at the Naval base. He got Marty to give a demonstration. He got permission for them to sit in his jet and assist with air traffic control!

You moaned as you wove through traffic to get there. All I want is you. Well fuck, all you wanted was him. Your feelings outweighed the amount of time you'd known him, but you couldn't seem to make yourself pump the brakes now. When you stopped to pick up dinner, you thought back to your first date with Bradley. It wasn't very long ago, but it felt like so much had happened since then. It felt like even more had happened since he responded to your first letter. In such a short amount of time, you had fallen in love.

Your skin was tingling with anticipation as you parked in front of his house. Hadn't you been with him just a few hours ago? Why did you feel the need to run for the front door with the Thai food? Why did your heart skip a beat when Bradley opened the door in his sweatshirt and gray sweatpants and met you on the front porch before you even had a chance to knock?

"Gorgeous," he breathed against your cheek, holding you close as you tried not to squish the bag containing dinner. Then he pulled his shirt off, leaving him in a tee, and tugged it over your head. His mustache tickled your skin as he leaned in and whispered, "You look too good in my sweatshirt. You look like you're mine."

Your belly swooped as you promised, "I absolutely am."

"Fuck."

You laughed as you handed the bag to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Give me a minute to kiss you the way I wanted to earlier, and then we're having a picnic dinner."

Bradley started to respond with one eyebrow raised, but you didn't let him get a word out as your lips met his. He deepened the kiss immediately, and you sighed; this was how you always wanted him. You appreciated that he held back earlier, but right now, you wanted him all to yourself.

"Thank you for today," you murmured between kisses as his hand slid lower along your back. "You're the hero of Mira Mesa Elementary, and I wanted to treat you to dinner on behalf of my class."

His cheeks were a little rosy as he pulled away a bit more. "You don't have to thank me for anything. You know that. I'm happy to do anything you want."

"Stop," you whispered, burying your face against his neck. "A girl can only handle so much. Let's go eat dinner down on the beach, and maybe there will be an additional little something special for you."

You were tugging on his arm, fingers gripping his thick bicep, but he didn't budge an inch. "I'm in sweats and a tee shirt. Should I change?"

"Why?" you asked, still tugging. "You look hot."

His blush deepened. "But you're wearing your dress and my sweatshirt. And I was kind of interested in snuggling on the couch."

"Let's go," you repeated, and he took a few steps toward your car with the bag of food in his hand. "We can come back and snuggle on the couch later."

While he agreed, he didn't seem to want to let you go. His hand was on yours while you drove the few blocks to the beach, and he wrapped his arm around you as you pulled an oversized beach towel out of your trunk along with a blanket. 

"Baby, it'll get chilly as soon as the sun sets."

"I'll keep you warm," you promised, running your fingers along his bare arm before taking his hand. He was quiet as the two of you walked down from the parking lot to the sand, and when you looked up at him as the warm, orange light illuminated his face as the sun sank low in the sky, he seemed contemplative. "What's wrong?" you asked, heart skipping a beat as you stopped in front of him so he was looking at you.

Bradley's gaze was soft as he met your eyes. "Nothing's wrong. I'm with you." 

But even as the two of you ate dinner together, he pulled you snug next to his side like he was afraid you were going to go somewhere. You took a bite of the Pad Thai and then said, "I wish I thought to bring some Prosecco," but you only got a little grunt in response. "Bradley," you snapped, reaching for his chin and turning his head gently so he was facing you. "You weren't like this earlier during the field trip. You're acting strange. Do you want me to go home?"

"No," he replied with wide eyes, wrapping one big hand around your thigh and kissing your forehead. "I don't want you to go anywhere without me." With a sigh, he added, "I'm sorry. I just... got in my own head about us."

"Us?" you asked immediately, scrambling to try to figure out what you could have possibly done wrong. The whole day was perfect, and now you felt yourself trying to pull away from his grasp.

"No," he insisted once more as the air grew cooler. The sky was more dark blue than orange now, and Bradley was silent for a beat before he said, "Maverick... Captain Mitchell... you met him earlier..." When you nodded, he kissed your forehead and said, "He was my dad's friend. They flew together. Maverick knew him well."

Your boyfriend's parents had been gone for a long time. "Oh," you gasped. If you'd known that earlier, you'd have taken more time to get to know Captain Mitchell.

Before you could dwell on it too much, Bradley whispered, "I think about you all the time, Gorgeous. I think about fucking you on my couch and feeding you breakfast. I think about taking you back to Salvatore's for every special occasion. I think about your letters and your pretty face and diamond rings. And the future."

His words were warm and intentional, and you shivered even as he pulled you closer. "Bradley," you said so softly, you could barely hear yourself. "I think about all of that, too."

Some of the tension seemed to melt away from his body as you ran your fingers through his hair. His lips skimmed along yours as he said, "Maverick told me I reminded him of my dad today. And that you reminded him of my mom. This is all because he can tell how head over heels I am for you. Just like my parents were for each other."

Everything he said was too dreamy. When you tried to take a deep breath, it hitched in your throat. "I don't understand what the problem is, Bradley. I feel the same way about you."

His gaze was fixed on the water as he held you and said, "My dad left my mom and I alone. The last thing I ever want to do is leave you."

A smile found your lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "Is this why you're being weird and clingy at the same time?"

When he looked at you he laughed. "I guess. I'm sorry."

"Bradley," you whispered, kissing his mustache and reaching for the blanket to cover both of you. "I've spent months falling in love with you in spite of your job. Or maybe because of it. Or maybe just because there was no holding back. I've thought about the risks, and you are worth it. I'm sure your mom felt the same way about your dad."

He pulled you down on top of him, dinner forgotten, and kissed you with one heavy hand still on the back of your thigh. "As long as you've accepted the risks, Gorgeous." His fingers slid up a few inches as he added, "Today was incredibly fun for me, and I'm happy your kids had a good time. I'm already looking forward to visiting your school again if you want me there."

"Oh," you whispered, placing a soft kiss to his scars. "That reminds me. Career day is coming up in a few months. You'll definitely need to be there for that."

Bradley grunted and gave you a little smack on your rear end that made you gasp in delight. "See, you're telling me about this now, but I already heard about career day from Marty."

Your fingers on his bicep tightened as you tried not to moan. "I just got excited earlier," you whispered. "I promise I was going to tell you."

"Hmm... so Marty and the other aviators are more interesting than I am. I understand, Gorgeous."

His voice was teasing, and he seemed a lot more at ease now as that big hand gripped and grabbed at you under the blanket. When you shifted slightly, you could feel him through his gray sweatpants. He was a little eager, but so were you now. His occasional need to hear you reaffirm your feelings for him was something you'd always be happy to indulge.

"Will you let me prove to you that you're the most interesting? My very favorite Naval officer?"

"What do you have in mind?"

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

The first few stars were glittering to life in the sky as the horizon continued to darken from orange to purple to blue. Bradley lounged back on the oversized beach towel with one arm tucked behind his head and enjoyed the sight. It was beautiful. So was the sound of you softly gagging on his cock.

"God damn," he muttered, fingers stroking the back of your neck as he squeezed his eyes closed and focused on the feel of your mouth slowly gliding along his shaft until he was deep once again. The air was cool on his overheated skin, and the breeze was probably enough to keep anyone else from visiting this secluded stretch of beach while you treated him to your lips and tongue.

When you gagged again, he saw stars prettier than the ones in the sky, and he could feel your saliva drip down to his balls before you lapped at them as well. He half expected to see the front of his sweatpants all damp by the time you were done. He was really looking forward to it. And it wouldn't be much longer now as you sucked on his balls and pumped your fist around him nice and slow.

Your voice was light as air when you released him and playfully asked, "Do you believe you're my favorite?"

Bradley glanced down where he could see the outline of your body and his hard cock hanging out of his pants. "Baby, I would believe anything you told me right now," he muttered, delighting in your laughter.

"You're my favorite," you said before kissing his tip and sinking those pretty lips around him once again. Your grip was firm as you sucked, and it wasn't long before Bradley was grunting and trying not to grab you too tight with his fingers. 

You were giving him head on the beach, and it was so damn hot, but you were still his sweet girlfriend. He just wanted to make you happy, and when he came, you moaned in delight until he couldn't tell if his eyes were open or closed. Then your lips were on his, and he could taste both of you there. "You're my favorite," you repeated, reaching down to carefully pull his sweatpants up while he head spun.

He groaned and wrapped his arm around your waist. "If this was your ploy to get me to agree to career day, it definitely worked. But you know I would have said yes no matter what."

Your lips were on his ear as you laughed. "Can we go home and get warmed up in the shower?"

Home. You belonged there with him. He knew it. You knew it too, even if only subconsciously. "Yeah, let's go home."

On Friday, he woke up earlier than usual to make sure you were awake in time to get to work. He packed you a lunch, grimaced when he checked the traffic on his phone and said, "I'll pay for your gas."

"I don't need you to pay for my gas, Bradley!" you insisted.

One look at your pretty face had him shaking his head. "Traffic is a nightmare. What's it going to take to get you to come back here again tonight?" he asked, handing you a mug of coffee. "Because I honestly don't mind paying a little extra in gas money to make up for the fact that I bought a house in Coronado."

You bit your lip and then asked, "How do you not understand that being with you is going to be worth the drive?"

"Save your verdict for after you've actually driven through rush hour."

He was delighted when you returned right after work for the weekend. And Saturday morning, you slept in while Bradley went for a run with Nat. He kissed you goodbye and watched you roll over onto his pillow with a soft smile on your lips. Six miles in and he was getting antsy to get back to make you breakfast.

"Are you two coming to the bar tonight?" Nat asked, huffing as she tried to speak and run at the same time.

He grunted in response. You hadn't been to the Hard Deck yet, and he wasn't sure he felt like sharing you with everyone else this evening. "Maybe."

Nat rolled her eyes. "Just bring her. You've been MIA for weeks and weeks since you got back. You can stare longingly at her while other people are around for a few hours."

"I'll ask how she feels about it."

But he should have known you'd want to go as soon as he mentioned it to you in the shower after breakfast. "I didn't bring anything cute to wear," you complained with a little pout.

"Baby, you could wear one of my ratty old shirts with your jeans, and you'd be the cutest thing in the place."

A smile curved along your lips, and that's exactly what you ended up wearing. Your snug jeans only looked sexier on you when paired with one of his soft tee shirts from his college days, which you tied in a little knot at the hem. He could see a peek of your skin here and there as you finished getting ready that evening, and he couldn't keep his hands off you. When the two of you arrived at the Hard Deck, he knew he was going to have to keep you close by.

"What do you want to drink?" he asked, tucking his fingers around your waist as Jake Seresin himself eyed you up. "The only thing I can promise is that the wine here sucks compared to Salvatore's."

But you were oblivious as you looked around the interior of the bar as you caught a few more gazes. He didn't love these horny guys all checking you out like the piece of fresh meat you really were. "How about a beer then?" you asked, scanning everything that Penny had on tap and pointing to your favorite.

"Solid choice," he replied, ordering two from Jimmy. And then all too soon, you were the one pulling him toward the pool table and Natasha.

"Well, well, well," Jake drawled, setting down his empty bottle and tossing a dart repeatedly up into the air with his gaze glued on you. "What do we have here, Bradshaw?"

"This is my girlfriend," he replied immediately. "Don't get any ideas."

You cleared your throat, stuck out your hand, and told Jake your name. He reached for you with a smile and didn't let go. "You must be the teacher from the field trip the other day. I'm Jake. But if you'd prefer to use my call sign, it's Hungman. I mean Hangman. Looks like Baby on Board was right."

"Right about what?" Bradley asked, eyes darting to where Bob was blushing profusely with a pool cue in his hand.

Jake chuckled. "Nothing I can say in front of mixed company."

"Oh!" you said, pulling your hand free and pointing at Jake while you took a sip of your beer. Bradley felt the need to protect you, but you didn't really need him to at all as you smirked and said, "Hangman. Right. You're the guy with the dumb call sign. My students were still talking about it yesterday."

Bradley started laughing at the sour look on Jake's face. After that, you had some very pleasant conversations with Javy, Mickey and Reuben, even though he could see their eyes dip down to your chest on occasion. It wasn't really their fault that you were beautiful, so he let it slide while he played pool with Nat. Eventually you joined in with him, and you insisted on buying the next two beers plus another drink for his best friend.

"I'll be right back," you told him, playfully backing away toward the bar with a smile, and Bradley watched you the entire time you were gone.

"You are a mess," Nat informed him as if he didn't already know that.

He shook his head. "I just know the day is going to come when I'm not around to physically be with her. And you'll be the one inviting her out to the bar while I'm eating soggy cabbage rolls on an aircraft carrier. So I need to set the precedent now. She's with me, and all of these assholes we work with can keep their hands to themselves where she is concerned."

"You were never this up tight when you brought Vanessa here."

His ex's name always sounded startling now when it rattled around in his head. "She was mean," he said easily. "Nobody wanted to talk to her even though she was pretty." But Bradley honestly never did feel this way about her or anyone else before you. Watching you pay Jimmy with a smile on your face before turning and meeting his eyes was enough to send him walking halfway to meet you.

Bradley took one of the drinks from your hands and leaned down to give you a nice, long kiss with tongue. Was he marking his territory? Sure. Was he also letting you know he was ready to get you alone again whenever you wanted to leave? Absolutely. Was he also just such a mess he couldn't help but touch you? A hundred percent.

It wasn't long before you suggested calling it a night.

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

Bradley was deep inside you, one big hand pinning your wrists above your head on his pillow. His fingers were trailing down your skin as he fucked you a little harder, and you let him talk and ramble to his heart's content while he brought you closer to where you wanted to be.

"You're perfect," he crooned, hazy gaze focused on your face. "Tell me, Baby, please. I need to know." He kissed along your neck, tongue darting out to taste the sheen of sweat. "Please."

"What?" you gasped, barely able to talk at all as his fingers settled on your clit.

You thought maybe he gave up trying to communicate right now, but then he licked his lips and said, "Give me a date. Please. Give me a date when you're going to move in." But he was stroking you just right, and your only response was a gasp before you were chanting his name.

His lips settled on yours as you came for him, clenching around his cock until he spilled himself inside you. His kisses were rough before turning sweet, and soon he was softly teasing your lips as he muttered, "You gonna tell me?"

It took you a second to push through the fog as your orgasm tapered off, and you smiled. "I thought you weren't in a hurry. Just in love." His cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink as he ducked his head, but you'd already been giving it a lot of thought. When he started to shift, you whispered, "January twentieth."

He froze again and met your eyes. "Yeah? Seriously?"

"Seriously."

His hands were cupping your face while he stayed buried inside you. "Gorgeous, you just made my whole fucking day."

Within the hour, he had the date saved in his phone calendar, and you were on his lap on the couch eating popcorn. "We've got time, but I'll help you pack beforehand and move everything. Javy has a truck, so I'll make sure we can use that. You could always start moving some things before that if you wanted to."

You popped a kernel between his lips and asked, "You just really wanted a date to look forward to?"

"So bad," he replied with a grin. "I can't wait to have my professional spider hunter around all the time."

"You're ridiculous," you told him with a grin of your own. You yawned, exhausted in the early hours of Sunday morning. "I need some sleep or else I'll be dead on my feet at work this week. You need to show me that you can be well behaved and let me rest even after I've moved in with you."

"On it," he replied, dumping the remainder of the popcorn into his mouth before scooping you up and heading for the bathroom to get ready for bed.

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

Bradley smiled as he ate some macaroni and cheese in the cafeteria later that week. He had two new dates saved in his phone calendar. The day you would be moving in with him and the date for career day at your school. He couldn't wait. He was admiring the calendar entries when his phone alerted him to a new email. It was oddly enough from your school account.

Dear Lieutenant Bradshaw,

We just wanted to reach out and thank you again for taking us on a tour of North Island. Our lessons about aviation were brought to life. It was the educational opportunity of a lifetime, and we also had so much fun on the field trip. Our classroom door is always open anytime you want to visit.

Sincerely,

Your nineteen pen pals

Immediately after he finished reading, he noticed he had another email. From your personal account this time.

Did you know there are just thirty-five days until I move to Coronado?

Attached was a photo of you holding up three fingers and five fingers in front of your naked tits, and Bradley almost dropped his phone. He could see everything, just like you probably intended, but he had to close out of the image as Maverick approached him with a frown.

"We need to talk."

Bradley's brow furrowed. "What's going on?"

The older man sighed and rubbed his forehead. "A call came in from Norfolk. Atlantic Fleet needs one more F/A-18 pilot for an assignment. Your name was mentioned."

"No," Bradley replied immediately as his stomach lurched. "Atlantic Fleet? Mav, please tell me you're joking."

"I'm not."

Bradley's head was swimming with concern. He'd only been in the Pacific Fleet for a few years, and he wasn't looking to go back to Virginia. Not even temporarily, but certainly not permanently. You were only with him because he was based out of San Diego. You told him yourself how scared you had been when you thought you were falling for a man who lived on the other side of the country.

"My name was mentioned?" he muttered. "Who else was mentioned?"

Maverick shook his head. "Nobody. They want you. I'd start thinking about getting your duffle out of the closet this weekend. I'll get your more information as soon as I can."

Bradley had more questions than answers, but he let the other man walk away without another word. When he unlocked his phone and saw the perfect photo of you, his heart clenched. Having answers to his questions would only make it harder to tell you what was about to happen.

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

But they love each other! Reverting back to full-time pen pals mode? Will that even work? Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 18

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[mountswhore]

Hey if it's okay then I want to request a pregnancy fic where y/n has been having a hard time dealing with the changes during pregnancy and Mason is helping her out in every way he can. Thank you x

my beautiful girl — mason mount

summary: you were four months along, finally starting to show and yet you were still struggling with the changes you were going through. mason decides to help in any way he can.

After the hell that was the first trimester, you thought you were in the clear. With morning sickness subsiding, you realised it was just making way for more pesky symptoms.

You were four months along now, Mason still elated his beloved child was on the way. As were you, but Mason doesn't need to carry the child for nine months, nor does he need to experience anything you were currently experiencing.

It was still hell on Earth.

Mason's arm slid around your stomach, finally resting below the forming bump. You could practically hear his smile as he pulled you into him, his warm breath coating the revealed skin on your shoulder. Today was the day you were finding out the sex of your baby, and you couldn't wait.

"How did you sleep?" Mason asked quietly, the question was a frequent one, considering you couldn't sleep much over the past three months of pregnancy.

You hummed in response. "It was okay."

Mason was downstairs making you a peppermint tea and himself some breakfast, whilst you took to showering. The hot water felt good, too good, so the shower wasn't long. Unfortunately, Mason's massive bathroom mirror was a curse to you. Even whilst steamed up, you could see yourself and your body.

You tried to be grateful, to be so glad you were able to carry this child, as a lot of women struggle to do so and would kill to be in your position. But your body was changing, and you had terrible self esteem since gaining the stretch marks. You felt so unlike yourself, the feeling mostly being down to how different life had been since becoming pregnant.

The baby wasn't planned, is any child planned? You'd spoken about children in the past with Mason, and you'd both agreed you felt ready for whenever it was going to happen. And a year or so later, here you were.

"Hey." Mason appeared in the bathroom, mug in hand and a concerned look on his face. "What're you thinking about?"

You grabbed the mug and passed him to put it onto your dresser. "Nothing."

Mason knew that was a lie. Instead of saying anything, he sat you down on the bed and crouched between your legs. Still adorned in only a towel, you pulled it over as much skin as you could. Mason knew exactly what this was about, as you'd discussed it at the start of the first trimester. You were crying, you didn't know whether it was good or bad, so Mason calmed you down with making a list. Eventually, you had decided the baby was a good thing, the only cons being about how you'd look and how your body would react to carrying and birthing a child, which you seemed hesitant over.

"You," he spoke, kissing your lips firmly with his hands either side of your head, "are beautiful. I know what's going on in your brain, and I'm telling you it's okay to feel that way. Everyone struggles with their body, but you need to remember you're doing something amazing. You're carrying our child, you're making sure she grows like she should and you're looking after her until she's ready for us."

"She?" You giggled, tears sliding down your face.

"I'm hoping for a girl," he responded, "but anyway, you look amazing. You're doing amazing. I know I'd struggle doing what you're doing, but I'm so thankful every day I wake up and see that bump. It will all be worth it when the baby is born."

He was right, you knew he was. All you needed was that reassurance that you haven't lost your life to pregnancy. You're still the same person before, but you're growing a baby, too.

"You will always be my beautiful girl, nothing and nobody will ever compare to you." Mason spoke, his voice quiet as he held your gaze. You smiled, grateful for the kind words he'd said.

"Let's find out what we're having then," you breathed out, standing from your position on the bed and strolling towards your closet. "I hope it's a girl, too." You admitted, peering from around the door at Mason.

His cheeks turned pink, reaching out to stroke your arm before he left you to dress.

You were sat in the waiting room, surrounded by mothers to be. All at different stages in their pregnancy. You were grateful to have Mason come with you today, his arm wrapped firmly around your shoulders. He was scrolling on his phone, and you occasionally looked down to see what he was laughing at, but for the most pat you were looking around and hoping the doctor would call your name.

Finally, you thought, as you'd heard your name and stood up with Mason's support.

The appointment was a blur, it was mainly just telling the doctor how you were coming along and you were in your head for most of it, Mason taking control of the social side of today.

You were abruptly pulled from your thoughts once the cold gel had hit your stomach, a sharp gasp falling from your lips. Mason chuckled and squeezed your hand, and you couldn't help but return the smile. He was so excited, he'd been looking forward to this for so long.

"Did you want to find out the sex today? Or were you wanting it to be sent to a member of family?" The doctor questioned, and you looked at Mason. Neither of you wanted a gender reveal, it wasn't appealing to you at all. You just wanted to know, so you could tell family the good news.

"We just want to find out today, if that's okay." You answered.

The doctor rotated the screen so both you and Mason could see. It was just a blur to the both of you, you had no clue what you were looking at.

"So," the doctor pointed at certain parts of the screen, "it's a very healthy baby girl."

Mason cheered, kissing your cheek and thanking the doctor for the confirmation. You were both ecstatic to be having the baby girl you'd hoped for. You were mainly glad for the healthy part, you weren't as biased as Mason was. You felt like you were doing something right, your body was handling it well, and in the end it felt worth it. It wasn't long until you'd be holding that healthy baby girl in your arms, and even if it was long, painful hours or labour, it would all be worth it.

[bijouxcarys]

Fine Wine (Robert Plant x fem!OC)

Masterlist

Description: Our fiery OC from Cherry Lips receives a call from the man she's seen the world with, after months of distancing himself. She may just be the medicine he needs in his time of uncertainty…

Word Count: 6.5k

Tags: @celestial-dragoness @firethatgrewsolow @callmethehunter @strsmn @m-faithfull @chromations @angrychicksposts @friccinfricks @inanebula

He was greeted with an icy draft as he pushed open his door. A stark contrast to where he’d been two hours prior. A fleeting bask in the heat of his past. But that’s all it was. Fleeting. In the past.

Robert knew it had to happen. Ahmet would have enjoyed seeing the lads back together, even if it was just for one last show. It was necessary to remind himself of that fact, otherwise the work gone into the past month would be for nothing. Though, his brain—that guy up there—tried to convince the rest of him that it was truly fruitless. And he knew what he’d have to deal with for the next year or so…

Robert, is there any chance of a Zeppelin tour again?

Mr Plant, how did it feel to be up there again?

Do you think Jason lived up to his father’s name?

Are you and Jimmy planning on working together again?

What’s your relationship like with John Paul Jones?

Why wasn’t Stairway To Heaven released as a single?

How do you think your voice has changed?

Robert, why don’t you want to talk about Led Zeppelin?

Bob, can you sign this for me? Bob?! Who the fuck do you think you are, mate? You’re only gunna sell it on eBay.

Scratching at his head, Robert reluctantly turned the light on, revealing his current home exactly how he left it. Hah, why wouldn’t it be? There’s nobody here to disturb it…

There was so much of the world he still needed to discover, to figure out. More music out there to be made. So much bigger than the walls of this London flat sat high up in a building full of more flats, with even more people, with even more stories–Oh, shit, are you Robert Plant? I need to call my best friend and tell her you live right near me!

Thankfully, that common situation was less common in the area he chose to live. It made him feel dirty, buying such a luxurious flat in such a well-established complex. Some called it a penthouse, but no, that was two floors up. Alas, he did have a pleasant view of… the city. Okay, maybe not that, but at least he could go for a walk to the nearest coffee shop… Okay, maybe he couldn’t have that human experience, either. 

To think that 34 years ago, he would be in the deep end, engaging in whatever post-show debauchery the band could muster up, and now he was here… A 59-year-old man unable to escape the 25-year-old boy that hadn’t experienced the true meaning of heartbreak yet. He was free, seeing everything in bold, whilst now he lived in a precarious state push and pull.

Desperately wishing for the world to see him as Robert Plant the musician, as opposed to Percy of Led Zeppelin.

Oh. There it is… There lies the conflict—his conflict. If he was hell-bent on enjoying music in all forms, being who he was at heart, why on Earth was he sitting on the edge of his bed, curtains drawn, dwelling on the fact that he wasn’t, in fact, Percy anymore?

Nobody told him the truth. Nobody told him when he was wrong, how he could improve himself. With the odd exception, there wasn’t a single person he came across in his ventures of life, who didn’t automatically compare him to, what he considered, that peacock prick of the 70s.

However, be that as it may, the audacity of Percy still ran rampant through Robert’s veins. If there was one thing age taught him, it was to grab life by the horns, come hell or come victory.

In his self-pity, still slightly buzzed from the bit of alcohol he’d already ingested that night, he took the leap in finding that familiar contact name in his phone, holding it to his ear as the dial tone held his breath with its frequencies.

Her phone rang just as she was about to take her first sip of wine, idly wandering in the kitchen of her sleekly designed flat. Half expecting it to be another call from the supervisor, she answered with an exasperated “Hello?,” bypassing the sensical act of glancing at the caller ID.

“Cherry…” he rasped, the name tasting bittersweet on his tongue.

Stiffening her posture, her previously tired eyes had blown open at the voice on the other end, as clear and crisp as it was in person. “Robert?”

“Cherry,” he repeated the silly nickname he’d given her a decade prior.

“Uh…” Delicately setting her wine glass back on the counter, she leaned against it, quizzically dropping her eyes to the floor. “This is unexpected…” She heard a gruff sigh, followed by some movement, coming from his end.

“I’m sorry…” he apologised, running a hand over his face as he stared out of his bedroom window. His phone felt heavy in his hand, bearing the weight of his audacity. Audacity he knew he should have kept at bay. “I guess age makes ya more of an arsehole…” he mumbled.

“Age? What are you talking about? Are you alright?”

“I’m as alright as an old man can be…”

“Your crypticism isn’t helping you seem less like an arsehole, if that’s what you’re concerned about.” Rolling her eyes, she moved to grab her wine again, making her way over to the sofa.

A lengthy pause followed. There’s a reason they describe silence as deafening. It irritated her to no end; she was able to take two whole sips of her wine during the time he left her in this ominous limbo.

“Why are you calling me?” she finally asked through a sigh, perching herself on the arm of her sofa, swirling the fragile liquid in her glass.

“Just… wanted to talk.” His words were unconvincing. Like a stroppy teenager insisting they want the beef stew bubbling on the stove, all whilst eyeing the takeaway menu on the fridge. She could read him, even through the phone. Plenty of practice by now.

“Well, so far it’s just been me talking…” She waited for an answer, even checking her phone to see that they were still connected. “Are you gonna tell me what’s up?”

“Nothing’s up…”

“Okay, and I’m currently in Russia,” she responded dryly.

“Are you?”

“Seriously, Robert?” she huffed, scrunching her eyebrows up at his atypical ignorance. “Look, if you’re not going to tell me why you really called me, I’ll just hang up, I’ve got zero patience for this right now.”

Yes, that’s it… Tell me I’m wrong. Give it to me straight. A satisfied smile tugged at his lips as he dropped his head in relief.

“Please tell me what’s wrong…” Her voice softened, almost mimicking a beg.

He chewed his lip, glancing at the clock on his bedside table. Was he really this pathetic that he needed a woman to come over and make this already stressful evening a little less gruelling? Well, yes, he was. To him, at least.

“Do you, uh… think you’d be able to come over?” His voice faltered.

Pausing mid-sip, she double checked that she was hearing things right. That her ears weren’t playing tricks on her. It wouldn’t be that outlandish to suggest auditory hallucinations at this point; it was bizarre enough that he was calling her in the first place. “You want me to come over? As in… to you? Right now?”

“Please…”

The silence that followed was thick with anticipation, punctuated only by the distant hum of traffic outside Robert’s window. He held his breath, waiting anxiously for her reply, acutely aware that he was asking a lot.

Finally, she broke the silence with a soft exhale, her voice tinged in a subtle mixture of disbelief and curiosity. “I guess I could… Why do you want me to come?”

Robert’s mind raced, searching for the right words to explain the tumult of emotions swirling within him. “I… I just need somebody,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Someone who won’t sugar coat things… Someone who knows me.”

She felt her heart stumble at his vulnerability, how fragile his voice sounded on the other end of the phone. Despite the fact that their interactions had become sparse over the last year, she couldn’t ignore the connection that still lingered between them, forged in the crucible of the years they’d spent in each other’s company.

Without another word, she made a decision, fuelled by compassion: rarely felt, but cherished when present. “Alright,” she said softly, her resolve firm. “I’ll come over. But you have to promise me something…”

A spark of hope ignited within Robert’s chest as he listened intently, hanging on her every word.

“...You have to tell me what’s bothering you. And don’t try and downplay it, either. Deal?”

A wave of relief washed over Robert as he nodded, a sense of gratitude playing eagerly at his heart. “Deal,” he agreed.

That leads them to the present, sat across from one another in his living room. Neither of them knew how the night would end, but all Robert knew was that he appreciated her willingness to come over at all.

“I thought you might have been out,” she speculated, accepting a glass of wine as a gallant replacement of the one she had to pour down the sink at home. Robert immediately shook his head, resting into the sofa with a hand rubbing around his bristly beard, unknowingly complimenting his fine wine allure. “Didn’t fancy another rodeo, huh?” she wittingly asked.

“I should imagine Jonesy’s all cosied up with Mo by now. Don’t know if I can say the same about Jimmy, though,” he huffed through a rueful laugh.

Biting her lip, she smirked to herself at his implication that Jimmy hadn’t lost his wild streak. “Well, I think it would be rather bizarre if Jimmy was with John’s wife right now, don’t you?” Injecting a bit of light into the atmosphere with her jesting tone, her smile grew with Robert’s in response.

Robert’s gaze lingered on her, from the light dimples on her cheeks, to the lips he would kill for. Though, now, they remained painted with a more natural tone as opposed to the deep cherry tint he associated with her. So beautiful.

She had to admit, upon noticing his wandering eyes, a familiar flicker kindled in her stomach, taking her back to the moment he first surveyed her from afar, all those years ago. “So…” she breathed, angling forward with her elbow resting into the cushiony surface of the chair arm, adjacent to the matching sofa Robert had relaxed on. Nestling her chin into her hand, she studied him. “What’s going on?”

Smile falling slightly, Robert cleared his throat and took a sip from his wine. It was discernible how desperately he was clambering to find the words, thoughts racing a millions miles a minute.

“Robert, I can’t help you if you don’t tell m–”

“Do you think I’ve lost my looks?”

Now, she wasn’t expecting that one. 

Anyone who took one transient careen at him instantly concluded that Robert Plant knew of his appeal. So aware of his allure, it bordered on arrogance. He always played the game, no questions asked.

She let out an unintentional scoff, amused by his inquiry. Surely, he wasn’t serious. However, upon leering into his eyes a moment longer, she quickly realised he was being anything but frivolous.

Through a fated smirk, she asked him, “Is that really what you’re so upset about right now?”

He winced, huffing as he shifted on the sofa. “Not really. Well–yes, but no…”

“My God, men are so indecisive.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” he shot back with a boyish grin.

“Stop,” she pointed her finger at him. “Stop being so charming and funny, it doesn’t work on me.”

“Are you sure about that, darlin’?”

“You’re diverting.”

“So are you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not the one who called after not bothering for months on end, am I?” And…there it is. 

He knew this was going to come up at some point, and he was inclined to agree with the vexation it bestowed upon her. As he kept his eyes firmly locked on hers, he saw as clear as day the betrayal that encompassed her. Perhaps a strong word for their situation, but the hurt in her eyes spoke of nothing less.

“Cherry… I’m sor—“

“That seems to be the only word you know lately, Robert,” she interrupted him coolly. “Y’know, I came over because you sounded upset, and believe it or not, I still care about you.” She rose from the seat, making steady back and forth paces across his flat. “God knows why I care about you, but I do.”

Robert parted his lips to speak, but she kept going.

“Do you know how happy I was when I got your text the other month?” she asked, turning to look at him. “Even if it was just to say happy birthday.” She shrugged. “Maybe some tiny little part of me wished that you’d have kept in touch, but then I came to my senses and realised that you’re Robert fucking Plant!” She chuckled airily, running her hand through her hair.

His gaze fell to the floor, pondering her words like a bout of bad news. With a swallow, he slowly responded. “And why is Robert Plant so different?” Her scoff brought his eyes back to hers.

Then, almost as if it pained her to utter the words, a stern gleam in those big brown eyes, she answered with the truth. The whole truth. Nothing but the truth.

“…Because nobody comes close… to being like you.”

Compliments. More compliments. He shook his head with an exasperated resolve.

“No, don’t shake your head, when you know it’s the truth.” Taking a deep breath, she stepped a little closer to him, staring him down like a predator cornering its prey. “So I’m gonna ask you again…” she uttered, “What’s wrong?”

“I told you—“

“You asked me if I thought you’d lost your looks, you told me nothi—“

“I’m old!” He finally snapped, voice uncharacteristically raising. Distressed. Vulnerable. He shot up from the sofa, peering down at her with hesitant eyes. “All those people who came to see me tonight,” he pointed in the direction of the window, “They wanted to see that bare-chested young lad strutting around the stage and wailing like a newborn fuckin’ lamb!”

Robert breathed out heavily. It was his turn to start pacing, everything that had built up all evening practically spilling out of him like nickels from a glass bottle.

“Ya know, I’ve tried for the past 25 years to not be that anymore, to get as far away as I possibly could from all the bollocks, but tonight was a real fuckin’ grim reminder that all anyone ever cares about is my name!”

She’d never seen him this irate. He had his moments, irritable and unsatisfied with certain situations and people around him, but never failed to remain calm and respectful at all costs. The man she watched bounce back and forth in the dim light of his very un-Robert-esq home was the personification of a life lived to the fullest, only to reach a point in which there seemed very little left.

“Robert, I—“

“I realise I’m a massive fuckin’ hypocrite, by the way—being upset about people always expecting the young, virile Robert Plant, but also wishing I could have been that tonight.” Spinning on his heel to make another lap of the room, he was halted when she stepped in front of him, hands coming up to hold onto his arms. “Does any of that make sense, Cherry? Or am I going bonkers?” he asked with a hushed tone.

Sighing, she looked over his attire. Silky shirt with some sensible black slacks, encasing a body that displayed his advancing age. The lines on his face spoke of an earthy wisdom and a lifetime of laughter. Hair, previously a vivacious blonde, now faultlessly whisked with an ashy tint. His stomach was no longer landscaped, and one could no longer catch the intensity of his muscular build.

No, he wasn’t what the world instantly pictured when faced with his name. But he was still, without a doubt, the most beautiful man she had ever seen.

“Robert…” she breathed, bringing a hand up to gently trace the pads of her fingers over his beard, along his jaw, before stopping to place her hand flat against the side of his face. “My sweet, darling Robert… You have no idea, do you?” Dropping her voice to a whisper, she took in the edges of his features, how the blue in his eyes still shone brighter than any star in the sky.

The warmth of her hand against his skin made him weak. His eyes hooded, and he found himself instinctively resting into her touch. “About what?” he replied, matching her tone. His hand wrapped around her wrist, keeping her near.

Endearing was the word that sprung to mind. He was so endearing at that moment. So naively heedless. She couldn’t help but smile, as if a whole new light was gleaming down on him. Layers she had never been able to peel away were now crumbling at the lightest touch.

“How perfect you are…”

“I’m far from perfect.”

“Maybe not by the official definition,” she agreed. “But my definition… it’s all you, Robert.” 

Any anger she may have felt for his distancing himself, any iota of annoyance at his unintentional ignorance, was insignificant when compared to the kind of love she felt for this man. “I don’t care how old you are. I mean, you’re not even that old,” she chuckled. “I don’t care that you’re not… Percy, or however you want to describe yourself back then.”

Robert’s eyes shut as he gently rested his forehead against hers, hands lowering to grip onto her waist like he’d never get to again.

“I never knew you as that person, and I don’t want to. Because the man that’s been in my life for the past 10 years has given me more to live for than any arrogant little peacock could,” she grinned at her own wording, knowing she was using his own opinion of himself as ammunition. He picked up on it, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat.

“And let’s not forget,” she smirked, snaking her arms over his shoulders. “A lot of girls have a preference for older men, Robert, and as far as I’m concerned, you’re the ideal. Plus, we don’t call you Daddy for no reason…” she giggled.

Even through his subdued demeanour, a tint of light pink coloured his cheeks; he hid it by dropping his head to her shoulder, tilting to take in her scent. “I don’t care about a lot of girls right now…” His words were muffled, but the way his lips gently tickled the side of her neck spoke for him.

“Robert?”

He lifted his head to look down at her. “Hm?”

“You’re beautiful,” she told him firmly. “Okay? I don’t ever want to hear you saying otherwise, because it’s bollocks. Pure bollocks. Alright?” 

Okay, well maybe one person tells me the truth…

With a smile, he bit his lip and nodded, willing to take any word that fell from her perfect lips as gospel.

“Good.”

“Can I kiss you now, or am I still in troub–”

She cut him off with a heady kiss, hand holding the back of his head and fingers gripping at his corkscrew locks. A sigh of relief fell from him as he mirrored the passion, wrapping his arm around her shoulders to cradle her, encompassing her in his hold. His own fingers made a venture, delicately threading through her thick hair.

Eventually, he found himself backing her in the direction of his bedroom, willing footsteps following his lead. She didn’t even have to give herself to him. All she needed to do to keep his mind at bay, stop the intrusive thoughts from swirling in the recesses of his rapid mind, was be there.

But his Cherry was always insatiable, no matter the situation she found herself in. Like his own, her libido intensified in her 30s, and he deemed himself lucky to be on the receiving end of such licentious longing.

“I’m not gonna lie to you,” she hummed as Robert trailed his kisses along her cheek, eventually stopping at her neck. “When I got home from work, I wasn’t expecting anything like this to be happening tonight.” His bristly facial hair was tough against her skin, but provided a stimulating tingle nonetheless.

Chuckling, he nipped at her neck and guided her further backwards until she had no choice but to let her weight fall onto the bed, his following suit. His face hovered closely over hers, taking in her features. Admiring. Silently worshipping. She was everything.

“What?” she whispered up at him, stroking her thumb over his cheek.

Shaking his head, a small smile appeared on his lips. “Nothing… Just happy you’re here. With me.”

She huffed out a small laugh, placing a barely-there kiss to the tip of his nose, before nudging him to lay down so she could settle on top of him, legs trapping him under her. Using her hand flat on the bed beside his head, she propped herself up as she lingered over him. His hands were urgent as they gripped onto her hips, needily pressing his fingers against her curves. God, he wanted her so bad… It was next to impossible to be in the same room as her and not experience the familiar twitch below. That bloody blazer… She made every article of clothing look perfect, and she looked perfect wearing them.

Clocking his distracted gaze with a smirk, she smoothly brushed stray curls from his face. “What do you want, Robert?” she whispered, watching the way his eyes dilated and flickered through a mirage of emotions. “Tell me…” she encouraged, her lower lip slipping between her teeth in anticipation of his answer—an answer she was certain she could predict.

He sighed heavily, tilting his head to the side. “I don’t want you to think it’s all I called you over for, darlin’...”

She responded with a sweet smile and an airy laugh, shaking her head. “Hmm, no…” she mumbled, glancing down at his lips. “You told me why you called me over…” Lowering her face to his, their lips narrowly skimmed over one another. 

“Now, I need you to tell me why you want me to stay…” Her voice had dropped to a sultry whisper, accompanied with a bold shift of her hips.

Jaw clenching, his grip on her tightened, goading her to keep up with her movements, to which she complied. “You really want to know, luv?” he gruffly asked.

“Dying to know…” she replied through a breathy sigh and a subtle smirk.

It seemed a mere millisecond had passed before one of his hands came up to hold onto the back of her head, pulling her down so he could speak directly into her ear.

“I want to feel you again,” he began, inching his other hand steadily from her hip in the direction of her backside. Guiding the paced movements she was still conducting. “Want to feel you forever,” he continued, words muffled against her.

By now, the strength keeping her propped up had waned and she found herself collapsing against him, once again completely wrapped up in his embrace, adhering to his ministrations, playing into his hands.

“I miss the way you wrap around me, baby,” he kept talking, barely realising each syllable sparked flutters between her legs. “And how sweet you taste…” Maybe he’d forgotten how much she enjoyed his voice in these intimate moments, but as she continued the rolling motion of her hips, the friction against her heightening arousal dragged a choked moan from her throat.

“Oh, ya like the sound of that, do you?” he provoked, his hand now holding onto her rear, but no longer guiding her; she was doing that all on her own. Taking her face in both of his hands, he brought her back up to face him. The familiar flush on her face, hooded eyes, the way her lips had parted and gentle gasps had fallen… “You like me talkin’ like that, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” she breathed with a wanton nod. “Please…”

“Please, what, darlin’?”

“I-I need you…”

“You need me to do what?” His fingers began a steady journey over her chest, down to her stomach, where he inched his hand under the thin material of her blouse. Skin to skin. Fuck…

She whined, gripping onto his shirt, a furrow in her brow. “You know what I want, Robert…”

“Hmm, not sure I do–”

“I will leave if you keep playing with me.” As much as she wanted her threat to sound genuine, stern, her body was completely ablaze, and there was no way it sounded any stronger than a desperate plea.

Robert smirked at her, sneakily managing to slip his hand further down, until it was snuggly hidden within her trousers, her arousal prominent against the soft lace of her underwear. She gasped as he applied pressure, grounding her hips involuntarily.

“Somethin’ tells me yer not going anywhere, luv.”

Smug prick… Always so fucking charming…

Her eyes fluttered shut as he released the pressure against her underwear, but instantly reapplied it.

“I can already feel how badly you need me, sweetheart,” he casually commented, loving the way he could break her down. Just with a mere touch. “You just have to tell me… then I can give you everything you need and more…”

“My God, just fuck me already…” she murmured, craving more than a simple touch over a layer of clothing. Robert responded with a throaty chuckle, beaming at her as he removed his hand from her trousers and swiftly pulled himself up into a seated position, her legs immediately wrapping around him to stop herself from falling back.

With a challenging glint in his eye, he leaned forward, arms encircled securely around her as she dangled from his lap off the side of the bed. Her hands were holding onto his shoulders, giving him a warning glare.

“Now, now, don’t give me that look…” he chided, lowering his gaze down to her attire. “You look gorgeous in this blazer, but I think it needs to come off now.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” She obediently shrugged the heavy fabric from her shoulders, trusting that Robert wouldn’t drop her in the process. It fell to the floor, landing in a crumple—she’d surely chastise herself when the time came to put it back on, but at that moment, she couldn’t have cared any less.

A sharp squeal exited her mouth as Robert suddenly stood up, swung around and dropped her on the bed. He gave her a cheeky smirk, before lifting her legs to perch on his shoulders. Turning his head, he delicately worked the buckle on her heel loose.

“I like these shoes,” he nonchalantly complimented as he pulled it off her foot, dropping it down the side of the bed, before he repeated the action on the other. He pressed a kiss to her ankle and lowered his hands to unbutton her trousers, tugging at them when she lifted her hips. 

There she was, laid over his bed, in nothing but a white, gossamer blouse and the contrasting underwear in a characteristic black lace.

“Y’know…” Sighing, he crawled over her, allowing her to slowly pop open the buttons of his shirt when he got close enough. “I’ve always wondered—with you in particular—how I managed to get so lucky.” He ran his hands up and down her bare thighs, savouring the smooth skin under his fingertips.

She didn’t necessarily answer him, only sent him a playful eye roll before pushing the intricate silk from his shoulders, where it was then tossed to the side to join her trousers on the floor.

Robert displayed no sign of hesitancy in his shirtless glory; he looked like a transcendental entity—a god of his own likeness. So deserving of everything good, yet the creator of the very same thing. 

Her wandering eyes flooded with lust. She cursed the inability to squeeze her thighs together at the sight, at the situation. But before she could mourn the friction, he was down there in its place, as though he saw right through her longing. The soft fabric of her blouse became too constricting as her heart hammered away at the image of Robert knelt down on the floor with his upper body slotted between her legs, so she unbuttoned the garment, the air around them hitting her skin in a stark revelation.

“I told you I missed how you tasted,” he mumbled against her thigh as he peppered small kisses along the flesh, inching closer to her aching core, but bypassing it to replicate the motions on the other leg. His beard added a bout of sensation, hips rolling upwards in her thinned patience.

When he pressed his mouth against her clothed centre, she exhaled deeply, the simple touch sending sparks all throughout her body. Robert hummed against her as he caught her scent, mouth aching to taste what laid beneath the flimsy material. Soon enough, his own stoicism scattered—he had to have her against his tongue, now.

With a hungry resolve, he pulled the lace down her legs and pushed her open, the sight stirring his fervour below. He glanced up at his Cherry, deftly tracing his thumb over her already teary folds. She had her head settled against the soft sheets, managing her breathing in preparation for the delicious sensations that were to come. My perfect girl… Robert leered proudly, looking back down at the view.

He gently spread her open, her bijou pearl enticing and ready for the taking. Pink, glistening… 

“So pretty…” he murmured to himself, taking an experimental lick just below the sensitive nub, eliciting a small flinch from the goddess laid in front of him. He licked his lips, relishing his appetiser. Next, he flattened his tongue against her entrance, collecting her arousal, and dragging upwards until he gave her the contact she so desperately needed.

By the time he attached his lips to her clit, she was already pining, throbbing. A small cry fell from her lips as he performed a suction motion, tongue swirling around her in lazy circles. She was trapped in his hold as he wrapped his arms around her legs, keeping her open and completely at his mercy.

Robert proved, with the sublime movements he bestowed upon her, that old men do, in fact, do it better.

With a grunt, he pulled his head back long enough to lewdly spit, mixing their fluids together in a union of lust. Her pants were a pleasant breeze to his ears, and her writhing form was his reward.

“That feel good, darlin’?” She nodded her head, one of her legs pulling him closer to her. “Look at me.” With a whimper, she lifted her head with the strength she could muster to meet his stormy eyes—eyes punctuated by grooves of sagacity. “Yer still my good girl,” he praised with a knowing smile, the wisps on his lower face shimmering with her juices. “Aren’t you?” She nodded again, practically unable to speak through her yearning. “Words, luv.”

“Yes… I’m still your good girl,” she shakily succeeded, swallowing thickly.

“Yeah, you are…” he whispered, pressing a brief kiss to her core. “Still Daddy’s good girl…”

She furrowed her eyebrows at the name she hadn’t heard in so long. The name she hadn’t even uttered to anyone else since the last time she found herself in this position with Robert. 

An untamable animal under a gentle predator with an even stronger desire to tame.

“I’m gonna make this pretty little cunt cum now, darlin’,” he hummed, “You just lay back and enjoy every second…” He eased her back down with a hand on her stomach, before lowering his head and resuming with his erotic assault.

An elongated moan expelled from her body as Robert seemed to return with a vengeance, tongue rapid against her pulsating, swollen clit, edging her—driving her—towards a much craved release.

Once he slipped a finger inside, stroking upwards in tandem with his tongue, she was done for. Her moans turned to cries, her whimpers turned to whines, and his name flew from her lips at a rocketing pace. 

Hips gyrating, back arching, she was in ecstasy.

Gripping tightly onto the bed sheet beside her head, her legs tightened over his shoulders, drawing him closer than ever.

Another finger.

More suction.

Closer.

And closer…

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum—don’t stop,” she gasped.

He didn’t.

What followed was nothing short of an otherworldly climax, tensing all over, gripping his fingers and pulsating into his mouth. Her hand shot to his hair, grabbing at the ash-blonde curls as he growled in validation, drinking in her release with the vigour of a water-starved cheetah.

She rode her orgasm out, body shaking and twitching as his comedown kisses hit sensitively against her. Eventually, he ceased his motions, snaking up her body, marking her on his journey. Each searing kiss to her flushed skin accompanied an indentation of his teeth. When he got to her chest, he dragged his lips between her breasts, up her neck, and finally punctuated with a heated kiss to her lips. 

Her remaining clothes were quickly shed, as was his, as they fell deeper into their salacious reunion. Inching up the bed in the scorch of their connection. Both eager, desperate, urgent. It didn’t even feel real when he eventually eased his cock between her legs, filling her up with a steady thrust of his hips.

Robert never seemed to pull back from her; only stayed as close as possible, absorbing her every reaction, even the most miniscule, the most subtle… He noticed everything.

The pace he set. The small tightening of her limbs wrapped around him. The rhythm of her breathing. And, of course, the ripples and twitches and flutters from her welcoming cunt. She took all of him so well—she always did. 

How he’d gone so long without her was a mystery. A foolish decision on his part, for he never felt more alive than when in her presence.

Hooking his arm underneath one leg, her body titled, cock kissing the hilt of her walls with every passion-filled jive. Her moans were melodic at least, with no limitations in their effect on Robert’s reverie. Fingernails raked over his back. Noses brushed against one another. Eyes fought to stay adhered. It was the copulation of a lifetime; even the first night they spent together sat miles from this.

“Cherry…” he groaned, evidently darkened chest hair grazing along her bare skin.

“No…” she managed to choke out, shaking her head. “D… Don’t call me that…”

Even more than her words, her eyes begged him to drop the silly nickname; it scarcely matched the moment, and gave their kinship too superficial a meaning.

With a smile of admiration, he pressed his lips to hers, free hand raking through her hair as his thrusts gained a jolting flair, building them up. Closer, and closer…

“Grace,” he finally whispered against her lips. “Grace, Grace, Grace…” he breathed, dropping his head to her neck.

Her name was exemplary on his lips. He practically chanted it the more he drove into her, knowing he was bringing them both closer by the second.

A lifetime could have passed, and neither one of them would have noticed. Completely, utterly, wrapped up in their mutual admiration for each other. Nothing else mattered. Their jobs, and all the emotions that came with them, were peripheral. Faded into the background. All that remained were the two of them.

Robert and Grace.

“R-Robert…” she panted, lips brushing against his shoulder. “God… fuck, I’m close…”

“Yeah?” he mumbled against her neck, his nipping quickly turning into biting, sucking, claiming.

“Mhm,” she nodded with a whimper, lifting her hips to meet his eager thrusts.

“That’s it, baby…” he approved, ensuring to match their rhythms. His breathing waned in its regularity, a heat rolled over his entire body. Just need to feel her…  “Cum for me, Grace, please… can’t hold it any longer—fuck, you feel so good.”

It took mere minutes after Robert moved to press his forehead against hers, staring her down, for her to finally succumb to his behemoth gifts. She held onto the side of his face, nails digging into his shoulder painfully as she clung to him.

Ears buzzing. Eyes blurring. Head thumping with the beat of her heart. The way she gripped around him, paired with the breathtaking expression of her face as she reached her zenith, was almost too much for him to handle.

“Fucking hell…” he groaned, taking in her responsive form as validation of his abilities. During her descent, he spilled into her, restrain seeming like a fargone possibility. He gyrated, growled, and ensured to empty himself completely inside of her.

Their bodies were tacky, hot, flustered, trembling, as they laid there, entangled in each other’s limbs. Her eyes fluttered open, focusing on the overhead lights in his room that were yet to be switched on since his return home. Having him in her arms, in his bed, was a long-awaited scenario she never thought would come to fruition.

But it had.

Eventually, he rolled over, bringing her into his protective hold. Somewhere, lingering in the back of his mind, he feared she wouldn’t be here come sunrise. That she’d realise she was making a mistake, take one look at him upon waking up, and disappear as quickly as possible. The grip he had on her was his way of keeping her there, with him, for as long as he could.

Though, it just wasn’t enough to ease his mind…

“Grace…” he called out slowly, his voice practically shot.

“Yeah?” She looked up at him, head resting on his chest.

“Can you stay?”

What a question to ask… She raised an eyebrow, looking into his eyes. The uncertainty baffled her. How he thought she might leave was an enigma to her.

“I wasn’t planning on leaving,” she assured him with a whisper.

He responded with a sigh of relief, and a kiss to her hair, before shifting the two of them further up the bed so they could comfortably bury themselves under his sheets.

There was no second guessing herself as she wrapped her arms around him, his back pressing against her chest. She held him close, smiling to herself when he found her hand, lacing their fingers together in such an affectionate position.

They laid there, lit by only the city lights that spilled through the edges of his curtains, for a few more minutes. Listening to the beating of each other’s hearts, and the steady rhythm of each other’s breathing.

“Will you stay for breakfast?”

Grace opened her eyes, giggling softly. “Yes, Robert. I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

Oh, darling… that would be forever.

[salted-caramel-tea]

Are you fully removing yourself from dtblr now?

i’ve made a post with a brief summary of my thoughts and feelings right now but ur not the only person to ask so ill make another . the short answer is not really . long answer under the cut. we’re actually getting into my whole mental breakdown as well so tw for graphic desc of sa

i just need some time to figure things out . i know i sound like a broken record saying it but sa is not an easy topic to deal with for me personally . im aware that the situation was somewhat blown out of proportion and it doesn’t actually compare to the genuine coercion and force i experienced but the past few days have been heavy .

a lot of it is because of the frequency, i am so happy that people have been comfort so enough to come forward about their experiences but there has been a complete lack of nuance regarding all of these situations it’s been very reactionary and coming online seeing never ending untagged borderline graphic descriptions of sexual assault or rape affects me physically . it’s been 3 years and i still experience physical symptoms after being triggered . my ears start ringing, i get dizzy and out of breath and nauseous and i cry . bc i remember how terrible i felt . and nuts something that still affects my relationships to this day.

one thing about it is that i can really sympathise with caiti . our cases are different, i verbally and physically refused physical advances from my abuser but after it happened i found myself trying to justify it because I invited him to watch a movie with me I didn’t push him away enough and someone was interested in me!! at least someone was interested in me . and it’s why i have a hard time regarding the ‘regret’ comments . because i don’t know that if people knew my story they’d say i was just regretting being intimate with him and stating that because i now felt violated after regretting the experience it didn’t mean i was violated on the night . i don’t think my abuser knows what he did to me . but it doesn’t change the fact that he forced me into that situation . i also want to say i don’t really consider touching someone’s waist sexual assault . it can be a form of unwanted physical contact that makes you uncomfortable but the act unfollowed by any sexual contact is not sexual assault . i do believe her feelings are real however and i can sympathise with that delayed fear and discomfort .

this is not an isolated incident as i’m sure we are all aware . for as long as dtblr has been around there have been controversies of sex crime. a lot of them have been faked, we all remember the period of 2021-22 where there was a new burner account every week accusing a member of the dteam of sa until bbh threatened legal action against one of them . and then there was the drituation . although these were faked, they contained extremely triggering details of grooming and assault. i needed time away then too . i’ve said this through every drummy ache but nothing is worth our physical and mental suffering. there is no creator no person that i would allow myself to suffer for .

the internet is reactionary. people will say things and blow things out of proportion to further their moral activity even if it means deliberately spreading triggering misinformation as a punch in the gut to make people agree . i’m not talking about the victims right now but rather the reactions from fans . over the past few weeks we’ve seen allegations of varying degrees aligned in badness with one another when that simply isn’t the case . sensationalising trauma is the new in thing and it prevents private conversations where there should be some and it’s encouraged by fans online so they can get a fix of their daily drama .and i understand it’s because it’s involving large creators and people want to spread awareness of their behaviour but the line has to be drawn somewhere between what should be public and private matters and there has been a mix of both in the past few weeks .

this need to ‘take down’ someone as opposed to discussing matters in a private setting to come to an understanding of the events without the influence of the public has created a spectacle of sexual assault. anything that is mildly uncomfortable or inappropriate is being labelled as on par with sexual abuse or rape which is not the case at all and it’s creating environments that are actively harmful to survivors by having their traumas brought up where it isn’t necessary or equating people who have made mistakes or bad decisions to their abusers .

this is something that has been ongoing since 2020 and will continue to happen with varying degrees of validity behind these comments and its up to us as viewers to decide what’s real and fake depending on the evidence before us but we don’t know what’s been taken out of context what’s been fabricated what’s straight up slander vs what is real admissions of harmful behaviour and its exhausting to wade through . it might seem selfish that i’m kind of saying i don’t want to know about other peoples sa experiences but i dont . i don’t want to have to wade through pages upon pages of details or hours upon hours of proof to accuse or debunk someone of a topic that physically affects me .

i’ve already said i’m not becoming an anti i hold no serious denouncement of the dteam at all but i need to consider fandom dynamics and if i am willing to deal with these accusations over and over again because we all know it’s not going away . dream had people ADMIT they faked his grooming allegations and it’s still held against him . george did make someone uncomfortable and it’s not up to me to dictate caitis feelings on that but george’s perspective does put into play a perspective of body language that is being weaponised to jump to sa rather than bad communication and awareness of the situation . it’s a lot . and i need time to get myself into a better headspace and figure out if im willing to be involve in further reference of these events .

and also fuck quackity bc ppl are using the past few days to say oh quackity is the only good one left as if he’s not literally being monitored by international labour unions

::

im adding on a few things . i am uncomfortable with the way some people have been making light of the whole situations here . there’s borderline (fully) misogynistic posts flying around that are being shared as jokes and memes but it really diminishes the weight of some of the situations at hand and as well as the very real women discussing their situations . im not calling anyone out bc this is has been shared all over my dash so its clear that this is just a preference of mine that i personally find discomforting but i hate the way it makes me feel seeing posts relating abuse of women to homosexuality even though it is in a joking manner it just made me really uncomfortable .

im also tired of the words abuse and assault being thrown around without grounded evidence. there has been no sexual situations as far as we are aware . there has been no sexual contact as far as we are aware . there needs to be distinctions between what is discomfort or creepy and what is exploitation or abuse . i’ve been around lots of creepy guys but only one has sexually assaulted me . throwing words around without any substance behind them diminishes the value of the word until people see it as just another insult . by insinuating touching someone’s waist, although uncomfortable to caiti where she was unsure how to address she did not want that to happen, is a form of sexual assault it creates a form of radicalism of sexual abuse where it becomes is every uncomfortable touch a sex crime? no it’s not. it’s going to trivialise what it means to have been assaulted and being invalidation to victims from wider audiences with lines like ‘let me guess a guy touched your shoulder and you screamed assault’ . we are already blamed for what happened to us and to further trivialise it by mislabelling your discomfort and bad experiences as abusive or exploitative it’s providing a potential fan to those flames . and that’s why i say although i believe caiti is valid in the way she feels that her discomfort and delayed trauma is valid i do not believe she was a victim of a sex crime but rather she was in a position where she was made uncomfortable by a creepy older guy .

im also just so fucking tired to logging on to sex scandals of the dream team where everyone was 18+ and no sex occurred because at that point it’s just digging up anything you can to prove someone else’s hypothesis to be semi reality .

george did fuck up . he made a very young woman uncomfortable and should have prioritised reaching out to her to apologise for her discomfort and subsequent emotional weight instead of an extremely defensive take that, yes, can provide further situation but ultimately comes off as a take disregarding of the very real feelings that caiti was experiencing in order to prove people wrong . he is allowed to defend himself but the emotional impact on caiti should have been a lot better acknowledged . i just wanted to make sure that people were aware that despite the fact i do not think george is a sexual predator and that it is a phrase being extremely abused by the internet, i do believe he did something wrong in this situation .

this whole thing is messy and complicated and exhausting and punz needs to shut the fuck up nobody cares

[phoenix-downer]

I Really Could Stay Chapter 1

I Really Could Stay: ~1700 words. Sora and Kairi are starting to feel the strain of endless battles and missions on their relationship. Neither of them are sure they want to settle down and give up their life of adventuring for good, however. But a looming separation on Christmas makes them both think about what they want for the future.

Story Info: Sora/Kairi. Set Post-Canon. Alternating POVs. Established Relationship. Light Angst, Romance, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Christmas.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Sora was in one of his moods again.

Riku had known Sora his entire life, and his best friend had never been particularly good at masking his emotions. Not that he was really trying to at the moment. He was currently gripping the controls of the Gummi Ship with a scowl on his face so fierce that it would’ve been intimidating if it were directed Riku’s way.

Long gone were the days when Sora’s scowls made him look like an angry puppy. Riku was always going to be taller and bigger than his friend, but Sora had finally hit his adult height about a year ago and had the strength and fighting prowess to show for it.

Lucky bastard. He was just the right size to still move quickly while also packing quite the punch, as their sparring session earlier today had proven. Riku was stronger but not as fast, and he had a bruise on his arm from a well-aimed Keyblade blow to prove it.

“What’s wrong?” Riku asked, lounging on one of the nearby seats. He took a swig of his green tea and tried to keep reading his book. High school had to get finished somehow, and Riku was already two years past the normal graduation date. Twenty years old and still a student, how lame. At least he’d be graduating soon.

“I’m fine,” Sora ground out, though his tone made it clear he was anything but.

“It’s Kairi, isn’t it?” Riku didn’t even have to look up from his book to sense the change in Sora’s demeanor.

“It’s already been a week since I last saw her,” Sora said, his voice charged with emotion as the Gummi Ship lurched to the right, “and now I get sent on another last minute mission without any break? And right before Christmas too. What if I miss Christmas with her? How are we supposed to have a relationship like this?”

“You’ve managed this long,” Riku pointed out. A week or two weeks of separation was nothing compared to an entire year.

The Gummi Ship bounced up and down, and Riku’s tea splashed on him. He sensed more than saw the daggers Sora was glaring at him.

“Eyes on the skies,” he wryly remarked as he surveyed the damage to his clothes.

“Things are different now, Riku. We’re not kids anymore,” Sora said with just the note of petulance in his voice that made him sound like he still was one. Riku supposed his friend still had some maturing to do. They all did. It wasn’t like any of them had had normal growing up experiences. In some ways they were far beyond their peers; in others, far behind, and times like this made that very, very clear.

“Then stop moping and whining and ask Kairi to marry you already,” Riku said as he mopped up the spilled tea. His friends would have a lot more official recognition and the perks that came along with it if they would just tie the knot. They’d been dating for several years at this point. Why not just seal the deal already?

Sora groaned in frustration, running a hand through his spiky hair as he began the landing cycle. “But that would be even worse! Being separated from my wife all the time? I’d be a deadbeat husband.” He sighed and examined his hands, still tightly gripping the controls as he steered the ship. “We couldn’t bring kids into that mess either. I don’t want to be a deadbeat dad. I’m already a deadbeat boyfriend.”

Riku returned to his book. “Then you’ll have to make a choice. Do you keep traveling the worlds as the hero of the Keyblade, or do you settle down with Kairi?”

“I can’t make that choice yet!” Sora cried, his eyes flashing. Riku grabbed a spare scrap of paper to use as a substitute bookmark. This was going to take more than just a half-assed conversation to resolve. He waited patiently as Sora landed the Gummi Ship.

“If I don’t stop,” Sora continued once the ship’s engines had powered down, “it’s gonna drive Kairi and I apart! But there are still so many people out there who need my help. How can I turn my back on them?”

Riku sighed deeply. When they’d first started this adventure, things like marriage and family and long term commitments had seemed far away. Now those things loomed closer and closer. He didn’t have an answer for Sora because he didn’t have an answer for himself. And Kairi being a Keyblade wielder too made things more complicated. She was often sent out on missions as well, and even the times when Sora was on a break, there was no guarantee she would be too.

“The hero’s dilemma,” Riku told Sora at last. “We’ll never have normal lives, Sora. If you want a normal life, you’ll have to give up all of this,” he said, gesturing to their surroundings. “And no one can make that choice for you. Someday, you’ll either have to sacrifice your relationship with Kairi or your life as a Keyblade wielder. She’ll have to make that same choice if you want to make a relationship work long-term.”

Sora’s head jerked back at hearing the words “sacrifice” and “Kairi” in such close proximity to each other. But he was silent. The only noise was the faint Christmas music playing from the Gummi Ship’s speakers. It took a moment for Riku to notice the teardrops splotching onto Kairi’s lucky charm gripped in Sora’s palm.

Riku hated seeing his best friend cry. It made him uncomfortable because he couldn’t easily fix the problem.

“Listen, I’ll call Master Yen Sid tonight and ask if we can go back early if we finish the mission quickly,” Riku said. It was the best he could do under the circumstances. Maybe they could still make it home in time for Christmas.

“That sounds good,” Sora said, wiping his eyes. “I just wanted to be with her on Christmas. But I feel like Master Yen sends us out on missions on purpose when I’m more agitated and aggressive. Like he thinks I’ll fight better.”

That was entirely possible. Master Yen Sid was a good man overall, but he was also very calculating and would 100% figure out when each of them was in peak fighting condition.

“Well, do you?” Riku asked.

“When it’s between about four days and ten days of being separated from her, yeah, I do fight pretty well. After that I’m so irritable I’m worthless.” His eyes dropped to his hands. “And before that I’m too lovesick to be at my best,” he mumbled.

“With calculations like those, maybe you missed your calling as Ienzo’s research assistant,” Riku wryly replied as he opened his book again. It was surprisingly interesting and far less revolting than discussing Sora’s love life, and he really did want to know how it ended.

“What else am I supposed to do when I’m bored and frustrated?” Sora whined, flopping dramatically on the seat. “If I know when I’m in peak fighting condition, I’ll also know when I’m not. And that means I know what steps I need to take to avoid getting hurt—”

Riku scoffed. “You, be careful? You and Kairi both love to rush into danger, and then I have to fish you out of it. Imagine if you did get married and Master Yen Sid sent you on more missions together. My job would get a lot more stressful.”

“Hey, I’m trying my best here.” Sora scowled and his eyebrows did their best to express his sass, but then he sighed and rested his head against the back of the seat. “Do you think that’s why we don’t get to go on more missions together?” he asked in a small voice.

“You can’t concentrate to save your life when she’s anywhere nearby. You fight really well together, but the moment she gets so much as a cut, you panic and lose your focus.”

“So it is my fault.” Sora’s head drooped and his eyes were pained.

“I wouldn’t look at it like that. Keyblades make things more equal, sure, but you’ll always have certain advantages over her during combat. Magic can level the playing field, and she is a better mage than you—”

Sora pouted, and Riku rolled his eyes.

“—just barely, don’t look so offended. You’re never going to compete with the light in her heart and you know it. And she and you are both better mages than I am. But even with that advantage in one area of combat, the natural differences in raw physical strength between the two of you are still there. And that goes for any guy she has to fight. It’s only natural you worry about her.”

“Xemnas nearly broke her arm,” Sora whispered, resting his face in his hand. The haunted look in his eyes told Riku the memory might as well be from yesterday instead of four years ago. “Like he was just snapping a twig. And even when it’s just me and her…I’m not a big guy, but it still surprises me how much stronger I am than her sometimes.”

“But you know how to properly use and restrain that strength,” Riku pointed out, “and that’s what matters.”

Sora was silent.

“And did you just admit you’re not that big?” Riku asked, changing tactics. “Someone has finally given up on ever hitting six feet tall.”

“Hey, I made it to five ten, that’s pretty dang good for a runt!”

One look at Riku’s face made them both burst out laughing.

“Okay, okay, five eight and a half,” Sora amended.

“Who knew you had it in you.”

“Doesn’t matter, you’ll always be taller than me.” Sora was so mournful and melodramatic about it that Riku burst out laughing again. Sora grinned, and it was a welcome sight. Riku promised himself he’d complete this mission as soon as possible so his friends could be reunited in time for Christmas.

Sora was right. Riku teased him, but all those separations from Kairi couldn’t be good for their relationship. Helping his friends be reunited in time for Christmas was the least he could do.

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

A/N: This story is based on some ideas Alja and I brainstormed together earlier this year about how Sora and Kairi would handle being separated from each other frequently, and this is both a very belated birthday present for her and a Christmas present all in one. Happy belated birthday and Merry Christmas, @angel-with-a-pipette ❤️

There will be five chapters total, and I'll be updating daily until it's done.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

[kalgalen]

Open letter to my mother

(or, a rebuttal to the 1k email my mom sent me about my upcoming transition. Tw: transphobia, self-harm)

First, and I say this will all the love in the word (and an healthy dose of disbelief): what the fuck is wrong with cis people?

I'm gonna skip right over the fact that you had the gall to call this a "text analysis" when you actually dedicated only one paragraph to actually describing the text I got published and used the rest to utterly dismiss my community and I. That disappointment, though, is nothing compared to the anger and grief that the rest of your email has awaken in me.

You talk about respect, but you refuse to respect my decision to make my own body more comfortable to me. Worse than that, you disrespect my friends by deciding you get to be the judge determining who conforms to your outdated ideas on gender enough to be allowed to transition. How dare you?

Speaking of daring, how dare you imply that we, the LGBTQIA community, need to be more tolerant and inclusive of people who don't understand us? Do you realize that in many cases it means they want our death? You're a white woman. You've never had to deal with a huge portion of the population wanting you to stop existing, or at least to stop "putting your identity in everyone's faces" - aka, essentially, to (hope you guessed it) stop existing. I'm not asking for understanding from every single old crusty conservative guy, just that they leave us the fuck alone.

You make wild assumptions about me in your email. Do you really think my therapist helped me accept myself? I only came out to her last year when I decided to medically transition, because I was finally confident in my ability to make that choice. We had never talked about gender before. Why would you want to take that away from me? Why would that "self-respect" you're talking about entail me going back on my steps? Why can't it be about me embracing my identity, making my body mine in a way that doesn't involve self-harming?

On that subject, you've never shown concern when I was cutting into my arms on the daily. You acknowledged it, sure, but what did you do except demand that I stop? You have no right to criticize my choice of changing my body. You lost it long ago.

You encouraged me to get a breast reduction last year when I started the process of wanting to transition. You still thought I was cis then, but since it was a surgery for cis people, it was fine and dandy. Now that I want to cut it all off so I don't have to deal with binders anymore (which are indeed quite dangerous for the person wearing them, not to mention uncomfortable) you believe you can go against that. You have to see how irrational that is.

You talk about detransitioners but I'm willing to bet you haven't done more research past "some people regret transitioning." Do you know most people stop transitioning because of transphobia? You, cis people, are killing us one way or another.

Why do you fucking think you can explain gender to me. "We all have a part of masculinity and femininity inside of us" yeah no kidding?? You're telling that to a nonbinary person, that's the whole concept (although not only - but I won't get into it since it'll just confuse you more.) You dare "explaining" to me what androgynity is and why it would "fit me more". You think your couple of hours of half-assed research are enough to compare with my lived experience? With my discussions with like-minded people? With decades of self-determination by a community that is older than you? Also fuck you for implying I've only decided to call myself nonbinary because it's "fun". You don't know anything.

You ask me if sexuality is involved in choosing a gender - and it might be for some but newsflash, trans gay people exist. Additionally, I am asexual - not that you bothered to do research about that. "Before loving a sex we love a way to be, a philosophy, a way to think" fuck off I've known that since I was old enough to fall in love.

Anyways. You'll never read this, because you would only think I'm throwing a tantrum - because you're so sure you're right, and not ready to listen. Whatever, I don't give a shit. I will try and answer your concerns later when I'm not so pissed off, but for the moment I cannot help you.

Lovingly, your child.

[dropintomanga]

Do You Revisit to Heal?

When it comes to a new year, everyone's talking about doing new things and resolutions to become better. But what if revisiting stuff can actually help you a lot more?

I was inspired by two posts I read - Japan Powered's The Value of (Re)watching and (Re)reading and Use Your Damn Skills' "Comfort TV and trauma recovery". The first post talked about how it's okay to look at past stories you were interested in back in the day. There may be times where you might cringe, but you might get a better appreciation of what that story meant for you at the time. The second post focused on how adults who grew up feeling neglected as kids turned to and rewatch comfort TV a lot to escape whatever trauma they were going through.

On the subject of rereading and rewatching, I've been thinking a lot about revisiting Gintama and Fullmetal Alchemist. Both are considered two of the top most popular manga ever by Japanese audiences. Both series have amazing characters and stories that resonate with readers. I remember a great deal of lines and moments from FMA and Gintama. Even back then, I re-watched and/or re-read those two series to a great degree. Nothing else mattered.

Compared to now, where there's so much manga released, I sometimes wonder because of the amount of manga out there, nothing seems to stick in my head as much. Although I love current hits like Chainsaw Man, there's nothing about them (yet) that brings out a sense of emotional catharsis that I feel compared to when I read something older like Fullmetal Alchemist. Or should I say, most manga haven't hit me as hard. I nowadays get that from video games.

But when I think about it, I'm a different person back then compared to now. While I think it's a good thing, you can lose something during the process.

I want to now address "comfort TV and trauma recovery." I've used anime and manga to "escape" depression. I've also used them as outlets to process feelings that I never told people at the time. I think the beauty of revisiting your favorite series is that everything is predictable when out in the real world, not everything sadly goes your way.

I sometimes wonder if I'm doing this with playing K-Pop songs over and over again. They take me back to a place where I know for certain that I'll be feeling great. Those songs take me back to my younger years when I wanted to be a DJ and blast music at parties with no drama. People piss me off and while I'm able to resolve interpersonal situations at times, I just feel mentally fatigued and sometimes scared over how some people behave. What if my emotional wounds led me to get sucked into fandom in the first place?

There's a lot of value to revisit things you liked back then. Every work has lessons to learn. Every story reminds us of how human we are. We need other people to share stories in order to feel that we matter in the grand scale of things. You also might learn something new when you revisit a story due to your own changes in perspective.

I'm always looking back into my memories as a hardcore fan when I was a teen to young adult. It's been fun. I realized how grateful I am to be able to experience those joys even when they weren't accepted as they are now. Maybe I didn't have as many friends to share those interests with at the time, but I know being involved in fan interests helped slowly shape the way I wanted to view life and act around people.

I hope it's the same for you guys. No one should shame you for revisiting older works. What's important is they help you feel alive and make certain parts of life worth revisiting years down the road.

[nailsandkeyclicks]

The Hidden Struggles of Mood Swings

Mood swings are sudden changes in a person’s emotional state. These shifts can be triggered by various factors, including mental health issues and physical conditions, affecting both males and females. It's ironic how society has evolved in its perception of such issues. In the past, they were often ignored, but today they are widely acknowledged and even joked about through memes and social media.

While it’s easy to find information about mood swings online, is it really that simple to address them? About 90% of women experience some PMS-like symptoms before their periods, with the severity of these symptoms varying from month to month. These symptoms can worsen or improve with age.

Hormonal shifts play a significant role in mood changes, particularly in females who experience these shifts more frequently during menstruation, pregnancy, and menopause. These changes can lead to significant emotional fluctuations, impacting daily life and interactions.

Personally, I believe that while 90% of women suffer from hormonal shifts, only 10% can comfortably express their feelings about it. I’m among those who struggle. As a 20-year-old woman, I deal with the challenging cycle of menstruation and mood swings, which affects not only my well-being but also my relationships. I often have negative thoughts about myself, my present, and my future. Despite trying various methods like healthy eating, exercising, meditating, journaling, and opening up to close friends, nothing has significantly helped. In some cases, these efforts have even strained my relationships. I've been stuck in this cycle for 2-3 years now.

Experiencing hormonal changes for at least three weeks—before, during, and after a period—is honestly dreadful for me. Women are often more emotionally vulnerable compared to men and tend to overthink, which can lead to feelings of insecurity and under confidence. This impacts both our professional and personal lives, creating more anxiety about our goals and achievements. This anxiety fuels overthinking, perpetuating the cycle.

I don't want to ruin any more relationships or overthink random, improbable situations. I just want to live a normal life, present in reality, enjoying the small things, and noticing the little moments that make life beautiful. I want all the hustle and bustle in my mind to stop because it has started to hurt me internally. I will never stop striving for peaceful happiness, having fun, and not missing out on the things that bring me joy, want to desperately fix my relationship. Writing helps me feel heard and understood, even if anonymously. It is a step towards finding inner peace and enjoying life’s simple pleasures.

Being from India, finding discreet solutions to this big issue is very challenging. Seeking help without anyone knowing or judging is difficult. I am not well aware of the available resources, nor do I have the privilege to seek professional help. However, what I can do is write about it and express myself anonymously, knowing that I have shared my feelings somewhere with someone.

I am just a girl!

[violet-amet]

If you want to do this thing https://www.tumblr.com/violet-amet/741270892700680192?source=share Betrayal, break- for Cat Mask, mistake- for any OC you'd like to ramble rn

Oh-hohohoho~! Thanks! I got some answers deffo for Cat, and Xio and Rick will be great for the last two. I've been missing those two quite a bit recently. heh~.

Cat (🐈) - House Hunted OC (I guess you could label her as my version of the You character, but I don't really see her that way anymore. She is Cat!)

[betrayal: Has your OC ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust? Has your OC ever betrayed someone who trusted them?]

Nah! She is pretty loyal, and kind of liked in my fanfics. I mean, sure, her first meeting with a certain man eating house was rather unpredictable, but she wasn't hurt by that, at least not emotionally, just very confused. Since then, things changed and she learned a lot. Still has a good heart. hehe~.

[break: What would cause your OC to break down completely? What do they look like when that happens? Has anyone ever seen them at their lowest?]

This one is juicy to me, because she has been through a lot in her thirty(?) years, dying and coming back to life given her immortality. She has some moments in my fanfic where she suffers from depression and the likes, but those are nothing compared to her painful deaths that she often suffers from.

The only person she really breaks down to, is the man eating house she lives in. When it all becomes too much for her, she'd rather not talk or deal with anyone, and self isolate, which doesn't always work out when the being you're living with may be very aware of their surroundings. In other words, no privacy.

It's a good thing though, because she'd needs someone to always be there for her, given how hard it is to deal with such difficult emotions and life. (Despite all my torture, she is truly my favorite for a lot of reasons, but most importantly, she never gives up, just tends to collapse, which is fine I think. She is stronger than she thinks, and I love her a lot for being a little different from the norm for me.)

Xio + Rick - Original characters from my original story, which was inspired by roleplay I've had in the past. (I too love them for their character growth and more.)

[mask: Does your OC wear a mask, literally or figuratively? What goes on beneath it? Is there anyone in their life who gets to see who they are under the mask? + a little bit of mistake.]

Xio, no. She is an open book, and has often expressed her troubles with Rick, who is a father figure to her after saving her from near death in the past.

Rick, however, does. He carries a lot of guilt for experimenting on Xio in the past, and is thankful that she came out better for it, than turning into an Abomination, which are mutated humans. He'd rather not show it in front of her, and instead be stoic and aloof, especially in front of the people who they have to work for to exterminate the Abominations. But inside, he is a very heartbroken, guilt ridden man, who just wants to give up.

Because of how deep he was in his work before, being a doctor and all and dealing with a horrible experiment, his ex wife divorced him and took their kids. It got worse when the experiment got exposed, which is fine by him since he helped with that, but it made his ex wife despise him for being a monster of a doctor, and it did lead to a lot of deaths. At least she had left long before it got worst, so she is still very much alive, and thriving with her family.

Now, all Rick is trying to do, is kill as many Abominations as possible, even though it doesn't erase the guilt he feels, because the one person he was able to save, now is caught up in it, and works with him on that. But despite how much he tries to cover it up, Xio knows and understands that he is incredibly hurt by his actions. She carries some guilt too, but not as bad as Rick. It's with her that he can sometimes drop that facade of being aloof and strong, and just becomes his true, guilt ridden self.

[mistake: What's the worst mistake your OC ever made? What led to them making it? Have they been able to fix it? How have they moved on?]

Okay, so I already explained that one of Rick's biggest mistake is that he was apart of a large experiment, but let me dive a bit more into that. He was a skilled and reliable doctor, but it was because of that that he was dragged into the project. He couldn't get out of it without a lot of collateral damage in the process.

Basically, he was forced to do it, until he couldn't handle it any more, and blew the whistle pretty much about the experiment with many other doctors, though it was at the risk of their lives.

Now, that's fine and all with Rick, and to sum it up, he hasn't been able to move on or fix it, so he is much pretty much stuck on that for the rest of his life.

But Xio herself... Well, while it's much smaller in comparison, Xio did run away from her family at 19, because she suffered from a bad breakup through finding out she was being cheated on. And since Rick was in town, she decided to tag along by sneaking into his car.

Unfortunately, she'd soon be caught up in being attacked by an Abomination, and got extremely hurt, but not killed thanks to the fact that the experiment she'd went through basically made her body nearly indestructible, in the way that she can heal very quickly from bad injuries, and not get sick and the likes. (Despite all that, she still wears glasses! ha!)

That said, because she got involved, and was already involved with the experiment, the big corp who keeps Rick chained up and working, also had her chained up and working as well, knowing that she was Rick's patient. She couldn't outright tell her family that that happened, despite them knowing what had happened to her before, but she did say she will come back to them from time to time, because she found good work.

And she did! But she does feel guilty for doing something so stupid, because she was too emotional. Her family worries about her everyday, but despite how they feel, they are able to trust Rick enough for them to be all right with it. But, it doesn't mean she is that safe.

Xio may be able to heal quickly, but that doesn't mean she is immortal. That said, she is surprisingly strong not in the physical sense, but emotional and mentally. Eventually, she'd have her own family, through adopting and marriage, and she'd go back to moving closer to her relatives after dealing with "A Lot". haha~!

I hope I explained myself well. Truth be told, Xio and Rick were made during a time I was roleplaying over ten years ago, so their story isn't that great, but I still love them. Their stories and themes were inspired a lot by Resident Evil, funny enough, which is obvious I imagine. But they were fun to write about, despite how flawed it is. There is something fun to explore about them, and some body horror stuff in their stories.

Cat is also fun, despite all the horrible stuff I make her go through. She truly does mean a lot to me, in the way of growth as a person, and I hope to go back to her stories, and the fanfic, when I can handle my writer's block better.

There is something I want to write about with her, that I wish to continue to explore, and be happy with!

Anyway, thanks, Nyoxt! I've rambled on quite a bit! haha~!

[windydrawallday]

ART THROUGH THE YEARS

From 2010 to 2023, cheeses. I wanted to do a "Decade of Art" a while ago but time passed and... I ended up with a lot more to choose from and compile x'D

Many of these come from my forum fakemon design era, when I moved to DA and did prompt art with OCs for roleplay groups, then mixed with sporadic fanwork and early project ideas. In the recent past 3 years, I started to delve into fancharacters/fanchilds and lots of self-indulgent art plus participating in collaborations and fanzines!

I wanted to do this too to make reminders for myself in the future:

I don't change art styles because I'm insecure or Idk what I'm doing: for each story, character, or setting I try to capture the MOOD and FEELING they have! And so my art will forever be as diverse and changing as all the infinite experiences of life those things NEED from me to portray!

And so, I CAN'T COMPARE MY WORK with others because! NO. This is how I work best and it's alright and I NEED TO DEAL WITH IT. Period.

Every time I enter a fandom and do fanwork, I love putting tenderness in the dark and symbolism between the lines of the canon... and painting a psychedelic madness.

Expressions from head to toe are what I enjoy the most when drawing characters. Even if motionless (like in reference sheets) the character needs to say ALL in just a glimpse.

I doubt I'll ever have a comic of my own, but I will always try to tell stories and character interaction through sequential art: illustrations or doodly comics because I LOVE IT.

Talking about comics: It's my curse and blessing, but trying to make each panel have a different angle and don't recycle them (valid only when mirroring) is my self-imposed challenge haha

I used to do mixed-media (textures, collages, etc) a lot in my old art? So going back to it recently it's a natural cycle and nothing new: what's new is now I have better programs, resources, and skills to go up to eleven and double with them!

... I like drawing characters hugging/being clingy alright, I WON'T STOP DRAWING IT and it's the only pose I will repeat without getting tired of it all bahaha

The range of characters I love is an extension of myself too: from a sweet fluffy bundle of joy to the absolute chaos of a dark entity. Being human is so limiting: WHY DO I NEED TO PUT THAT LIMIT HERE too?

My art is most of the time niche af and that's alright too. I will find my people, I will curate my place. And if I'm the sole enjoyer of my stuff, fair: more for me!

And to everyone who knew me from the start or just joined my art journey recently: I will always be thankful for your presence! Because I can imagine how confused or flabbergasted you can end by following my every step x'D But, sorry not sorry, I'm not gonna change, at all.

To be true to myself is the best thing I can do. And that's a promise I can keep!

[maudlinandmad]

Fallout of Touch

Fallout 4 does not know how long 200 years is.

Honestly that’s not too surprising. Framing a vault dweller as the primary character is an easy choice, especially since they’re frozen, because they like the player, will know jack-shit about anything.

But there’s another consequence of that start. It’s that now you have to describe what happens in Massachusetts after 200 years. Or more accurately, what doesn’t happen.

A common criticism of later fallout games, particularly being set in the east coast, are that the bombs may as well have fallen last week compared to the early games. Play fallout new vegas, then fallout 3, and you’ll see what I mean.

At the start of 4, the player is asked by a vault-tech salesman to fill out their stats, then like 5 minutes later the bombs are falling. They both run to the vault, and the vault salesman is left outside. A decent way into the playthrough, you find the sales-rep again. He’s a ghoul now, since he was outside right as the bombs dropped, so he’s an immortal zombie now. Not a terribly bad deal, if you aren’t too upset about looking like a piece of jerky. The earlier games ghouls look much worse, but that’s a different essay.

But he’s wearing the exact same suit and hat as when the bombs fell. And he complains loudly that no one wants someone with “20 years vault-tec sales experience.” What the fuck do you mean my guy? 20 years? What have you been doing for the past 200??? The player has been alive and out of the vault inside a month and they already have a dozen levels at minimum, a suit of power armor, a whole mess of friends, a dog, and is the general of an entire fledgling army, if Preston isn’t full of shit. Yet he hasn’t changed a bit. He doesn’t even have a name.

Well, technically, it’s Vault Tec Rep, so let’s call him VTR for now. Bottom line, is that he somehow spends just under 200 years “as a vagrant”, and has learned nothing. How? You ask a human being to live for a quarter of that, and all sorts of shit could happen. Loves found and lost, you could attend college, find a new job, learn something new. It would take conscious effort to learn nothing, but a herculean one to keep the same clothes, and decent condition too.

If a single person doesn’t change in 200 years, it’s a miracle how Diamond City even started.

[shewholuvsgreen]

“My life’s journey from childhood memories to present realities.”

My childhood was pretty chaotic but fun. I grew up moving from place to place with my family, but the countryside was where i felt most at home. Nature has always been my sanctuary, always fascinated by its overwhelming serenity. My life was colored with simplicity and a loving family, I explored the world with them and created some of my fondest memories.

When I was young, I didn't like school much. I preferred playing outside, picking flowers, and turning them into delicious dishes that I then sold to my pretend customers, who were my cousins and friends. They would give me candy wrappers as payment. We also played games like bahay-bahayan, hide-and-seek, and other traditional games that were enjoyable and fun. I remember my grandparents or parents not wanting us to play outside if we didn't sleep during siesta. So what I did was fake sleep until they fell asleep, then I would sneak out to play with my friends! I know I'm not the only one who's done this, right?

As I got older, my childhood days filled with both chaos and happiness started to change. I began to spend more time in school, and although I still loved being outside, I had to deal with new things I had to do. Growing up and becoming a teenager came with its own difficulties and things to learn.

I found solace in books, losing myself in stories that transported me to different worlds and ignited my imagination. Even though I didn't always enjoy school at first, I started to really like learning. Each year, I realized how much education could offer me, giving me chances to do things I never thought possible when I was younger.

Throughout my teenage years, I struggled with figuring out who I was and where I fit in. Because my family moved a lot, I learned how to adapt to new places, but I also wished for a stable home. Even though we moved around a lot, my family was always there for me, giving me love and support whenever I needed it. They were like my anchor, keeping me steady through all the changes in life.

During the pandemic, I was still in eighth grade. We were living in the city that time for school, but we had to go back to the province because of the pandemic. It was a tough time for me because I had to take care of my grandpa and younger sister while doing my schoolwork at home. My parents had to go back to work, and my older sister needed to continue her studies too. But I kept going and stayed strong because I believed in myself and had faith.

I thought the pandemic was the worst, but nothing can compare to the excruciating pain I felt when my lola died. She was the best lola I could ask for; we loved traveling so much that we walked miles just to get where we wanted. Before my lola passed away, I had the chance to take care of her, but it was only for a short period of time. But I must live so that my lola from heaven will be happy for me.

As I dealt with the difficulties of growing up, I learned how important it is to keep going and stay strong. Even when things were tough, I didn't give up on my goals and dreams. Every challenge I faced made me tougher and more determined to handle whatever came my way.

As I approached adulthood, the idea of leaving behind the familiar comforts of home and trying new things both excited and scared me. But I knew that with my family's love and support, I could handle whatever came my way. I was determined to find my place in the world and make a difference, armed with a strong sense of purpose and a desire to learn.

Looking back on my life from when I was a kid until now, I feel thankful for everything that happened to me. The fun times of being a kid and the tough times of growing up all helped me become who I am today. Each part of my life taught me something new and helped me become better.

Even though I'm not sure what the future holds, I know I can handle whatever comes my way. I've learned a lot from my past experiences, and I'm excited to chase after my dreams. With the lessons I've learned and the hopes I have for the future, I feel ready to take on whatever challenges life throws at me.

In the end, what makes us who we are isn't just where we end up, but all the things we go through and learn along the way. As I keep going on this journey called life, I remember the wise words my dear lola shared with me: to treasure every moment, make the most of every chance, and always see the beauty around us.

Life is like a winding road with twists and turns, ups and downs. Along this journey, we encounter all sorts of experiences that shape us and teach us valuable lessons. It's not just about reaching a specific destination, but about the adventure and growth we experience on the way there.

My lola's words have always stayed with me, guiding me through life's challenges and reminding me to appreciate the little things. She taught me to find joy in the simplest of moments, to seize every opportunity that comes my way, and to never take the beauty of the world for granted.

Cherishing each moment means taking the time to appreciate the people we love, the places we visit, and the experiences we have. It's about finding happiness in everyday things and being grateful for all the blessings in our lives.

As I journey through life, I hold onto my lola's words as a guiding light, reminding me to live each day to the fullest and to always keep an open heart and mind. In the end, it's not about the destination, but the journey itself, and the memories, experiences, and lessons we collect along the way.

[littlecarnet]

I apologize for the sudden disappearance, I had to take some time away from social media. Nothing aimed at me personally, I just get stressed out with it trying to get my attention. I already have to deal with people doing this offline.

Its a new year and I'm being hit up again for knowledge about precious stones around the region. Naturally I'm wary about what I say and to whom, especially after a past incident, so I demand some kind of offering in exchange. Not monetary. The person has to do their research and get to know me first. It's the only way I can be sure I won't get taken advantage of again. I've rejected about three offers now, my gut and past experiences told me they were less than trustworthy.

The one offer I did approve of was a very young kid. Well..they're probably 20, but compared to MY age, that's practically a child. They're the first that young to seek me out, which they said wasn't an easy task. All the info they had on me was a link through a professor in Soccoro, but the information about my whereabouts was outdated, so they had to track down my brother to the local space museum, get a bit of his time, convince him to contact me, agree on a meeting place, then hunt me down up north, got lost going to said meeting spot, but eventually I met with them halfway.

Lol I felt so bad for them. Unlike the other other three, they went about it the long way around. I'm a very private person, made even more elusive since my extended family chooses to ignore my existence being the black sheep, and I've since cut ties with them long ago. So very few know where I am anymore. Top this off, my guard duties are strictly at night, so you can imagine this poor child being a bit apprehensive of meeting me nearly before dawn, since I'm asleep during the day.

But I made it up to them by treating them to the best coffee spot I know, and explained how I operate. We've since been keeping touch, and a few dats ago, they presented me an assortment of high quality tea ordered directly from India, and a beautiful pair of copper bracelets, which I felt was sufficient enough to tell them where they could find fire opal. I'd even take them there if they wish. It's a tad tricky as the road there is completely dirt with many switchbacks. It's very easy to get lost out there, if you know anything about a desert, is that everywhere looks the same. Last thing you want is to waste gas out there trying to find a way out. And there isn't a gas station for miles, or really any civilization.

We'll be going to that location once the snow clears, which might be around March. In the meantime, we'll keep in touch, and I might try to contact that professor they talked to. I know her. I haven't spoken to her in some time, not since her brother was caught up pursuing me. Heh. He was cute, I admit. I have a thing for redheads. Sadly it wouldn't have worked out at the time, I was going through hell with my mom's dysfunctional family drama. That's why I hate large families. Everyone fighting over territory, who's in charge of what, and petty grudges over things that happened centuries ago. I ain't about that shit.

But yeah, that's been going on as well as doing some spring cleaning, looking for paint to renew my room this summer, planting things indoors, cultivating dinoflagellates, and bracing for another winter storm from Colorado. I'm waiting for a shipment of henna as well, been wanting to decorate myself again.

[theropoda]

if i ever find myself lying to myself again about how im normal and have nothing wrong with me other than being oversensitive im gonna show myself my own damn tweets from like 2016 bc That Is Not Normal Behaviour. i guess i keep denying myself the right to be sad about myself and my life because i didnt know anyone else who had it like me, so i didnt have anything to compare it to and just assumed that my life wasnt that bad when it.....Certainly was not good and shouldntve been that way. esp bc the whoooole time my parents way of cheering me up about the situation was "other people have it worse, it could be worse, dont worry it isnt that bad" (in general thats indian culture i think LOL, to acknowledge that your situation is bad is some kind of embarassment almost)

its so crazy though to see tweets of me just entering like high school trying to figure it out like "i have no idea how i will keep living"........Well guess what.......I LIVED BITCH........Life may still be difficult but it has genuinely gotten clearer, about hey imDisabled actually which explains fucking everything, theres people like me out there!! and i feel like the path to a good life is visible to me now i just need to walk it. It looks really fucking ugly and hard etc but knowledge is power and just knowing things about myself that i didnt know back then, makes me feel better i guess. Dont worry lil john you made it :] i can only hope john from 8 years from now feels the same way.

its interesting to look back on this time period, like i was literally just going through My Files looking for oc stuff and just kinda happened across this archive. probably the part of my life where i most severely delt with self hatred and the idea i was a morally horrible person (average 13 year old experience i have learned) that should straight up die....i learned to deal with it eventually, convince myself that im not evil, but its just....interesting seeing it at its worst, before it subsided, and the past few months it's been comin back again except this time its less "im literally evil scum i oughta die" and more "i'm a pretty okay, average guy, but man do i want to be so much more". but i definitely think that's an improvement LOL.

anyways whats the point of this post. just airing out my thoughts. also that it gets better. even if things don't become perfect they'll maybe get clearer. maybe you're not out of this hole yet but you know it can be done. Or something i dunno

[zorkaya-moved]

@etherealguard asked:

❛ when i was a child, i heard voices… some would sing and some would scream. ❜

How long ago was Dan Heng a child according to Vidyadhara's standards? When did his current incarnation truly started? This world's, no, this universe's rules and beings were so different compared to where she came from. However, Dan Heng was still a young man who suffered and struggled. He was a young man on the path to pay debts of his past incarnation, an elder who had lived his life and had ended it. There was simply not way to escape, only a head-first jump into the myriads of those screams from the past. Could it be why he felt so anxious around her? Maybe some of the screams were familiar to him when seeing her expression. The long-living species suffered, oh how they suffered.

What can she say to alleviate his suffering? Nothing. She cannot say anything that will be a lie to him right now solely because she cares. White lies are all good, but right now when the topic touches upon agony of scream and memories? It' tough to pinpoint exactly what can be said. They all will deal with those screams differently. Some represses, some faces, some destroys. Dan Heng can be one to face them and make them quiet down. She believes in him.

"I hope my voice will always sing to you," she gives him a small smile, offering a cup of freshly made tea. Coffee is all good for others reasons, but when the silence asks for peace and relaxation, caffeine won't do well with anxiety and worries. She may experience them, but Dan Heng might. Sokolova doesn't want to cause him any additional discomfort. The herbs are supposed to give off a calming effect. "No matter what times is it, I hope it'll be something to calm you down. Gentle lullabies to silence the screams that appear prior."

It is her way of offering safety, but it may not fit his wishes. She will not exist for as long as she has in the span of thousands of years. Soon, this journey will end and so will be her timeline as well. Himeko may not approve, Welt may scold, but there is longing for the end. So there will no longer be screams but only eternal silence in a place where moonlight will illuminate the path towards full extinguishing. All forbid reincarnation circles' existences, this must be the end.

[funkymbtifiction]

A few days ago I talked about being preoccupied by tryouts for something, and you pointed out this being an aspect of 6. Ultimately I ended up trying out for a HUGE variety of activities so as to not have all my emotional eggs in one basket. News came back yesterday that I didn’t get into any of the clubs within one activity, but did get an invitation to appear in a film involving another activity. My initial reaction was like… burning shame? Like “wow, these people didn’t think I’m good enough; I want to move to another state where I’ll never need to interact with them again.” And generally I deal with my problems by talking to my roommates, but they are in one of the clubs I didn’t get into and were on the board deciding who gets in, so I couldn’t imagine facing them either.

I am sorry that you didn't get into the clubs you tried out for. It's a hard thing to experience rejection as a 6, since the tendency is to project (as you are doing) and assume that they see you as unworthy, which is validating your own feelings about not being good enough. The truth might be that they had so many applicants, they had to turn a lot of people away for various reasons and it has little to do with you -- but the important thing here is to stop and focus on your automatic assumption and recognize it as 6 projection ("omg, they think this about me... wait, actually no, there's no proof of that, it's that *I* fear this is true about me, so I assume they see it too!").

It is EXTREMELY hard for 6s to learn to stop doing this, but you can get better at moving past it, recognizing it when it happens, asking yourself if you are projecting right now, and working through those feelings of insecurity, so that in five years, you won't have as fast of a flash of self-doubt/self-hatred/"I am not good enough" thinking.

If it makes you feel any better, I imagine it's also awkward for your roommates right now, because they don't know how you feel about it, how you are reacting to the rejection, and whether you are going to talk to them anymore or not. So... remember that. They're going through this too.

Anyway, I went to sleep feeling crappy and woke up feeling… nothing. As if my brain had decided “okay, enough being dramatic, you’re just not going to feel any emotions, now.” So I’ve been fine all day, just focusing on practical, immediate problems. But I’m kind of dreading a potential emotional outburst, because I doubt I’m going to feel anesthetized forever, and I don’t want it to be around my roommates in case they decide “wow she’s so unstable, good thing we dodged that bullet.” (Which is always how I imagine emotional outbursts could potentially go—my mind is truly wild at times, compared to my actual coping strategies, but I’m always worried I’ll do something illegal or hurtful to others at my worst.)

Stop. Slow down. Focus. What did you just say? Was that projection? (Projecting what you are feeling onto how they will feel about it?) Yes. They may not see you as the problem that you see yourself as!

I relate to the postponing of emotions / inner dead-ness ("this is stupid, get over it"), but you should face and deal with your emotions before they get away from you, yes. Vent to someone close to you who is not in the friends' group, write an angry journal entry and shred it, etc. Get it out of yourself so that you can "hear" it. THEN you can start processing it, thinking about it, learning from it, and moving past it. Also, some 7ish reframing might not go amiss (it's not all bad) -- "So this door has closed to me, but another has opened. What else could I try?"

Anyway, I know people talk about feelers being in-touch with their emotions, but I feel pretty terrible at dealing with them sometimes. I think in relation to being rejected/"not good enough", specifically.

It's because that's tapping into what you're afraid of the most. That you can't do this, aren't competent, don't know what you are doing, etc. The line to 3 within 6 is strong. It makes 6s want to be competent but fear they are not. So being rejected is a validation of that deep-seated terror at not being good enough. The key is to start owning that you are, in fact, good enough. And to stop projecting reasons that reflect your own insecurities onto other people -- if you want to know why, ask them. Otherwise, assume they meant no harm by it. Don't fall into a strategy of "woe is me, this is confirmation that I actually suck!" Acknowledge those feelings when they come up and learn to shake your head at yourself ("OMG... AGAIN?? I am projecting AGAIN??? LOL, you just don't quit, do you, brain?").

I also realized that I think part of what makes me a 6w7 (as opposed to a w5) isn’t just that I’m easily bored and frustrated with the present, but also that I feel easily humiliated and thus regularly want to leave all my previous emotional baggage and mistakes behind me (this wanting to “abandon” the past and lose all emotional investment in it also made me think I wasn’t an Si-user.) And I wish I could keep up this perfect facade all the time and never let it slip if I feel insecure about something. But I know I’d get tired of keeping up that persona, eventually.

Something that used to tick me off was when friends would say, "But six minutes/days/weeks/months ago you said this," and I got annoyed -- like that was then, this is now, keep up! In truth, I just didn't want to be reminded of my own Ne-dom inconsistencies. Sigh.

Questions which emerge:

-Wanting to abandon all emotional baggage from the past = possible for an Si-dom? I imagine Se/Ni users would have an easier time simply "letting go."

If you are running away from it in a 7ish way, it's absolutely possible.

-Feeling desensitized from something which upset you as a coping strategy = head type? (Or maybe 3s do it too.) I'm wondering if 2s or 4s actually enjoy being overwhelmed by negative emotions, in a way.

Desensitization seems to be a head type thing or a 9 thing (for those 9s who choose to numb out, as opposed to the emotional 9s who merge into intense feelings). It can also be 3, yes. 4s tend to dig themselves into ALL their feelings and stay there, sometimes drawing pain out for months. 2s don't like negative emotions or thoughts, but will cope through 8ish aggression strategies.