#and while I as an adult have an obligation to not create close relationships with them or divulge in one on one contact

[daydadahlias]

what’s your thought on minors reading your stories?

hm, that's a good question, and I think one that's far more nuanced/convoluted than people often give it credit for and than I often like to think about.

obviously, I'm more than happy for minors to read my G/T and even M rated fics but when we get into the explicit territory - which I assume is what you're asking about - it can get tricky.

i will say, before I get into this far too long and rambling answer, that as a blanket statement, I would prefer that minors did not engage with explicit material period, including my own. However, it would simply be negligent of me to act like there are not minors who actively consume my content.

For a while there, I had "minors dni" in my bio and I also had 18+ for some time but I eventually took both out because I know it doesn't really dissuade people from interacting; if kids/minors want to look at something, they will look at it. And if they can't find it in certain places, they will without a doubt look for it in others.

it's a sad fact about our current culture that by the age of 12, most children will have actively seen pornography - mostly due to pop up ads online and just the sheer volume of pornographic content that exists in our world. so I am under no disillusion that minors also actively seek it out. I mean, I started reading porn when I was 12. Do I think, realistically, that it was a good thing for my emotional development? Uhm, no I don't! I don't think kids should be reading porn; it vastly skews their perceptions of sex and can negatively impact their relationships with sexuality in their adulthood. That's just a proven fact. So if I had any real say in it, I would say that minors should not be reading/viewing porn period, definitely not before the age of 15. That includes my own.

But, all that to say, I understand that I am an adult posting pornography on a public platform; if minors want to stumble on it, they will. I also know that I have all the necessary warnings and content triggers in place should someone come across my work and, at a certain point, if they continue to view it despite it being marked for mature audiences, that is not On Me as a creator. I cannot control what people choose to view.

I will say that, in terms of sexual content, I know that I am always writing healthy and consensual sexual dynamics between my characters so of the porn that minors could be exposed to, mine is certainly not of the dangerous variety for a minor to be consuming.

Am I fully comfortable with the thought of minors reading my material? No. But I'm not going to make it a habit to police people's interaction with the internet and I'm also not going to go through every single one of my followers and search to see if they're a minor to block them if they are. That doesn't stop kids from seeking things out. Frankly, I think blocking minors would only make them seek out other dangerous sexual content. Sometimes I think that I'd rather minors read my explicit material rather than explicit material that is tagged incorrectly, y'know? I'd rather minors read about actual consensual sex than dub-con or rape disguised as such.

At the end of the day, all I want is for minors to recognize that what they read online is not an accurate articulation of what occurs in real life and do their necessary research to be safe when they actively choose to interact with sex irl. But far be it from me to tell them how they should and should not consume written material, y'know?

I have an obligation as a creator (as I think all creators do) to tag my material properly and trigger warn accordingly because I do know realistically that minors might come across it, but from there it's completely out of my hands on if minors choose to engage with it or not.

[lilstarkeydream]

Hidden Flames- Chapter 1

Summary: Y/N, a Kook who prefers the company of her Pogue friends, slowly falls for Rafe Cameron. Despite their growing feelings, they maintain a facade of hatred due to their conflicting social circles and personal insecurities. Y/N is best friends with Sarah, Rafe's sister, which fuels Rafe's hidden affection. He despises how Y/N hangs out with the Pogues, believing she has more potential, while Y/N can't stand Rafe's for fights and stuck up nature. After a dramatic confrontation, they confess their feelings but must keep their relationship secret, with only Sarah and Topper in the know.

Warnings: 18+ only! Angst, Smut, Adult language, Violence, Alcohol use

Authors note: Hey guys! This is my first time writing any fan fiction, so go easy on me but I hope you enjoy. I am hoping to have another chapter up within the next week, as well as a series navigation. Feel free to send requests if you have story ideas for Rafe (check my bio).

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It was 9 o'clock on a Friday night. Nightfall had crept up before you knew it, and the island was alive with the buzz of another wild party. After a long day working at the golf course, you headed straight to your best friend Sarah Cameron’s white mansion. Known as the Kook princess, Sarah had welcomed you into her world since you moved to the island in middle school. The Cameron residence had become your second home, between sleepovers, getting ready for parties, and just gossip sessions. Despite the bitter fallout between Sarah and Kiara, which shattered your once inseparable trio, you managed to stay close to both, splitting your life between Kooks and Pogues. 

Sarah's boyfriend, Topper, was a constant presence. As her older brother’s best friend, he was also practically part of the family. You weren’t super fond of Topper, as he could be a self-entitled asshole, but he made her happy for the most part- besides their weekly fights and Topper getting mad at Sarah for the littlest of things. He made her happy that’s all that mattered. Rafe Cameron is Sarah's older brother and Topper's best friend, he was also a self-entitled asshole, who you, unfortunately, had to see on a weekly basis, due to the mutual connection. Topper and Rafe also golfed a lot, leaving the interactions unavoidable since you worked as a Bev cart girl for extra cash. Rafe was insufferable, to say the least, he always found a way to make your life a living nightmare. 

Your other time is spent hanging out with the Pogues- JJ, John B, Kiara, and Pope. Both you and Kiara are technically Kooks, but honestly, that lifestyle became too much for you both all the time. Hence how you found your best friends, the Pogues. The Pogues offered freedom, adventure, and a sense of belonging you hadn’t found anywhere else. Your parents disapproved, deeming your Pogue friends as bad influences. They never understood why you would want to degrade your self-worth and reputation, but they don’t understand how intoxicating Kook life can truly be. Your life felt like a constant balancing act, a war between the adventurous and fulfilling life as Pogues and the obligations of being a Kook. 

Now, you were at Sarah’s house, frantically trying to find the perfect outfit for the party, rummaging through her expensive wardrobe. You were caught between wanting to look sexy or slutty, and trying to distract yourself from the anger simmering from your encounter at work earlier that day. Every dress you held up seemed to fall short of the image you had in mind. Rafe Cameron had made yet another one of his insufferable comments, making it impossible to focus. You tried to shake off the previous encounter from the golf course.

Earlier that afternoon, the golf course was bathed in golden sunlight, creating the perfect atmosphere for your shift. As the beverage cart girl, you were used to dealing with the occasional lewd remark or entitled attitude from the Kook golfers, but Rafe always took it a step further. You had just finished serving drinks to a group of older businessmen when Rafe called over, his smirk as infuriating as ever, signaling he only wanted to cause you chaos

"Hey there, service girl," he said, leaning against the cart with an exaggerated casualness with the usually smug grin hung on his face. "Nice to see you finally doing something useful for once."

You forced a tight smile, hoping to get through the interaction without causing a scene. "Can I get you anything, Rafe?"

"Yeah, how about a little respect?" he sneered back, his body language reeking of mockery. "Or is that too much to ask from a Pogue-wannabe like you?"

Your hands instantly tightened on the steering wheel of the cart, every muscle in your body screaming at you to say something back, to put him in his place. If anything he was even worse. But you knew better. Engaging would only escalate the situation, and Rafe thrived on conflict, he wanted you to respond with a snarky comment. Instead, you focused on the task at hand, preparing his drink and handing it to him with forced politeness and a tight-lip smile on your face. 

"Here you go, Rafe. Enjoy your day."

He took the drink, his fingers brushing yours in a way that felt more like a taunt than an accident. "Don't screw it up too badly tonight, alright? Wouldn't want you embarrassing Sarah in front of everyone."

The comment stung more than you cared to admit. It wasn't just his words; it was how he always managed to make you feel small and insignificant- solidifying your existing insecurities. As he walked away, laughing with his friends, you felt the familiar mix of anger and frustration bubble up inside you.

As you were brought back from daydreaming your anger only grew, causing you to blurt out your day's frustration, "I fucking hate him, Sarah. All he does is go around doing drugs and causing fights. I was so close to flipping out today." pacing around Sarah’s room, venting. You already debriefed Sarah on the whole incident, but you couldn’t help but talk about it again. Your usual thick skin was not feeling so intact. 

Sarah looked at you with her empathic face, sighing, trying to calm you down "Y/N, you know he just tries to get under your skin. It’s what Rafe does."

Frustrated, you rolled your eyes, "He doesn't care about my feelings. He thinks I’m a total disgrace to the Kook name. Maybe he’s right. I don’t give a shit about the Kook life and do half of what I do to please my parents."

You continued pacing, finally settling on a black dress that hugged your curves, pairing it with your simple burgundy swimsuit underneath. Leaving your hair down, you opted for simple strap sandals, finally feeling ready for the night. 

Rafe Cameron is a special kind of infuriating. You try to tolerate him, you do, but his constant snarky comments about every aspect of your life makes him incredibly punchable. No matter how tall and handsome he might be, it didn’t matter in this instance. You could handle some comments, but you weren’t a complete pushover.

Sarah trying to steer the conversation to a happier note, in an attempt to diffuse your anger “Let's just go to this party, get blasted drunk, meet some people, and forget about tonight. Rafe isn't worth the stress."

Taking a deep breath, you knew she was right, momentarily letting go of your anger “You’re right. I’m not going to let him ruin our night. Let’s go have some fun." Finally settling down from your pacing, you put the final touches on your makeup sitting down in front of Sarah’s mirror.

“I know I’m right Y/N” giving me a loving side glance “Plus why does it matter what he thinks anyway. He’s always high and pissed off”. She paused for a second, finishing up her hair. “Alright, we're all ready to go and get drunk as fuck?” she said with a smug look on her face. 

You took a deep breath, letting the tension of the day slip away. Sarah's carefree attitude was contagious, and despite everything, you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement. She might be a little blind to her brother's flaws, especially since she was dating Topper and their worlds were so intertwined, but she was still your best friend.

After a quick car drive and lots of shuffling through Sarah’s mixed-genre playlist, you arrived at the more-than-alive scene of the party. You weren’t even sure whose house it was but hell that didn’t matter. A party is a party. Music instantly fills your ears as soon as you step out of the car. The front yard was packed with people, a mixture of Kooks and Pogues mingling together, the tension of their social divide momentarily forgotten. Almost serving as a symbol for what your pogue-kook life looked like. 

Walking through the front door, the house was a blur of lights and laughter. You made your way to the kitchen, the center of every good party. You hugged Sarah as she wanted to venture off to find Topper, as usual, but you didn’t mind. You needed a little break to gather your thoughts anyway. The familiar scent of expensive cologne and perfume mingled with the heavy aroma of alcohol and smoke, creating an intoxicating atmosphere. Grabbing a red solo cup from the stack, you filled it with a generous amount of a strong mix of whatever was handy—tonight was about forgetting the week’s frustrations. You took a small sip, wincing slightly at the strong taste, but internally smiling at the immediate warmth of the alcohol that spread through your chest.

The drink was strong, probably vodka, but you needed it. As you leaned against the counter, you took a moment to take in the scene around you. The living room was a blur, with loud music thumping in conjunction with conversation and laughter. 

Despite the alive atmosphere, the exchange between you and Rafe still lurked in your mind. Sometimes you felt like a Kook who didn’t quite fit in, you have well-off parents and a promising paved future with privilege and opportunity. Your parents envisioned you with a successful career, bringing pride and status to the family name. Yet, you were never a huge fan of the behavior the Kook lifestyle manifested, often self-centered, ignorant, asshole-like individuals. Rafe is a great example of that.

With your drink secure in your hand, you pushed yourself off the counter and made your way through the house outside to the bonfire. You felt a wave of relief as soon as the fresh ocean air hit your face, heat from the fire mixed with the ocean breeze creating a perfect party atmosphere. You spotted your friends - JJ, John B, Kiara, and Pope, sitting around the fire, laughing about something stupid JJ said. The genuine joy is clear on their faces, contrasting with the pretentious kook attitudes.

With a big grin on your face, you called out, “Hey guys, mind if I join you?”

Kiara’s eyes lit up in recognition of your face, “Y/N! Get over here, come sit down. We were just talking about crazy stuff JJ pulled off last week. “ 

As you settled in, the warmth of the fire continued to provide comfort as well as your friends began to ease your previous tense state. JJ went into vivid detail about his last mischievous adventure, our expressions displaying a mix of disbelief and laughter at his antics. The conversation effortlessly flowed, sharing jokes and stories that had everyone laughing until their stomachs hurt. I could feel the effects of the alcohol starting to take effect. In other words, the night was perfect. For a moment, it felt like everything in the world was right. These moments with your Pogue friends were ones that you cherished most. They made you feel alive, grounded, and understood; something you missed out on in your Kook life.

Eventually, you reached the bottom of the solo cup, signaling a refill was needed. Standing up, you navigate your way back to the kitchen, passing both Kooks and Pogues you couldn’t put a name to. The house became a maze, with more people filing in as the night was still young. As you reached the familiar environment of the kitchen for the bottle of Vodka, you suddenly bumped into someone. Looking up, you found yourself face to face with the one and only Rafe Cameron, his ocean-blue eyes, slightly glazed with alcohol and god knows what other drugs, looking down at you. His presence was overwhelming, you could smell a mixture of his cologne and the sharpness of vodka. 

Rafe smirked down at you drunk, “Well, well, look who decided to slum it with the Pogues tonight. Have you decided you're finally trying to find yourself a real man, Y/N?”

His words were a direct hit causing you to look away, annoyance taking over your face, however, you kept your cool, “Just enjoying the party, Rafe. Not that any of it is your business” 

Rafe took a step closer, lowering his voice for only you to hear, “Everything you do is my business, Y/N. Don't you forget that?” His sudden proximity made your heart race, you felt a mix of anger and something else- something else you wouldn’t dare to acknowledge.

Flustered, you shot back, “Fuck off, Rafe. You don’t care about me.” You angrily push him away, your hands firm against the muscles of his chest, and quickly turn around, making your way back to your friends. The interaction with Rafe left you shaken, the interaction making you once again feel so small yet so noticed. You quickly downed two more drinks, trying to steady your nerves. Taking in Sarah’s words from earlier to just try and enjoy the night.

As the alcohol coursed through your veins, you started to feel a pleasant buzz, hoping the tension was behind you. You felt engulfed by your friend's laughter with the warmth of the fire.

Suddenly, your mood shifted once again, as you saw Rafe Cameron making his way towards the bonfire. This time more drunk and agitated. 

As Rade approaches he spits "Y/N, you think you can just walk away from me like that?"

You stood up, the alcohol giving you a false sense of courage. "What the hell do you want, Rafe? Can't you just leave me alone?"

Rafe rolled his eyes, continuing to mock you “Oh, look at you. Acting all tough in front of your Pogue friends. You’ll never be a pogue Y/N, just give it up!"

The Pogues immediately rose to your defense, with John B stepping forward. "Back off, Rafe. She doesn't need to deal with your shit tonight." John B stepping between you and Rafe. 

Topper, along with a few other Kooks, approached to back up Rafe. "Stay out of it, John B. This is between Rafe and Y/N."

Tensions escalated quickly as insults were thrown back and forth. You could feel the eyes of everyone around you, the entire party was now focused on the showdown. Anxiety coursing through your body, unsure of why Rafe had a sudden interest making his hatred for you a public display.

Rafe's voice grew louder, more aggressive. "You're just a joke, Y/N. You’re pathetic. You don’t belong with us Kooks, and you never will."

Your anger boiled over, you began to raise your voice. "And who are you to decide where I belong? You’re just a spoiled brat who thinks he can control everyone."

Rafe's eyes flashed with anger, and he took a step closer. "You’re going to regret saying that."

Before you could react, Rafe shoved you. The force of his push sent you stumbling backward. The Pogues immediately rushed to your side, while the Kooks moved in to support Rafe. The scene erupted into chaos, with shoving and shouting escalating into a full-blown brawl. 

John B and Topper exchanged punches, while JJ and Pope tried to hold back the other Kooks. Even with the chaos, Rafe's eyes remained locked on yours, his anger still burning. 

You struggled to regain your balance, your head spinning from the mix of alcohol and adrenaline. Kiara was at your side in an instant, helping you to your feet. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice filled with worry.

You nodded weakly, brushing off your clothes and fixing your hair. "I think so. I didn’t hit my head or anything. I’m just really drunk." You instantly are brought back to reality realizing there’s still a fight going on, in an attempt to break it up, you make your way to John B. and Rafe.

"Stop it, Rafe!" you shouted, trying to pull him away from the fight. "This isn’t worth it!"

Ignoring you, Rafe lunged at John B again, but you stepped in between them, pushing Rafe back with all your strength. "I said, stop it!"

Sarah appeared behind Topper, her face prominent with both frustration and concern. She darted between the fighters, yelling at Rafe and Topper. "Stop it, you idiots! This is so stupid!"

Sarah was still trying to break up the fight, her voice cutting through the air. "Rafe, Topper, knock it off! You're acting like complete assholes!"

Breathing heavily, Rafe finally relented, his eyes still locked on you. He remained silent putting his hands up. Before turning around and walking away he muttered, “Dirty pogues.” You glared back at him, your chest heaving, at a loss for words.

As the thrill from the fight finally died down, everyone began to disperse, the calming party atmosphere now shattered. You turned away from the bonfire, heading toward the beach to clear your head. JJ tried to stop you from leaving telling you to stay with them, all you could do was shake your head, knowing the complexity of your emotions was too much right now. The cool night air did little to calm your racing heart. You began to feel tears prick in your eyes, the emotions of the recent events starting to overtake you. Your chest tightened as you began to silently cry, tears streaming down your face. The alcohol did little to nothing to suppress the storm. 

You were still wondering about Rafe's sudden outburst of emotion aimed toward you. He’s said many rude comments to you in the past about you hanging with the Pogues, and how it’s like you aren’t a real Kook. But never this confrontational. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the drugs. But his anger was more intense, more personal. The same feeling as earlier began to rise, the one you don’t dare to acknowledge, was there another reason for his sudden interest? 

You walked along the shoreline, the sound of the ocean filling your eyes, the waves crashing against the sand. The consistency of the ocean brings you a brief sense of relief from the chaos you were wrapped up in. Despite the beauty around you, the moonlight reflecting on the water, you felt the rage boil inside you, coming with another wave of tears.

Rafe's actions tonight suggested something more, tonight hinted at a complexity you hadn’t quite considered before. You wiped your tears with your arm, frustration continuing to bubble up within you. 

Why did he care so much about who you spent your time with? Why was he always your prying eyes, always judging? The more you ponder these ideas, the more confused you become. You couldn’t deny a spark you felt when he was close, but even if that was true, it was too deeply buried underneath many layers of anger and resentment. 

As you were still deep in your thoughts, staring out into the ocean, looking for some sort of answer, you heard footsteps approaching from behind. You turned to see Rafe following you, his expression unreadable. "Y/N, wait," he called out, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. 

You crossed your arms, the moonlight glowing over your soft features. Rafe could see your clear hurt expression and tear-stained cheeks. “What could you possibly want Rafe? Haven’t you caused enough trouble tonight” You demanded, despite your voice trembling due to hurt and sorrow

Rafe sighed, looking away, running his hand through his hair, “I don’t know, I don’t know Y/N.” he paused for a second, words hanging heavily between you “Maybe I just… I just wanted to talk”

You scoffed at this almost instantly, and you began to turn around and walk away “You have a weird way of showing it? Insulting me, pushing me, hurting my friends.” you spat back, nothing but bitterness in your voice, unwillingly for him to truly see how deeply his actions hurt you.

But his footsteps continued to follow you, “Please” he pleaded, reaching out to grab your arm gently, causing you to turn around to face him. Your heart skipped a beat despite your anger still present. “Just… give me a chance y/n” 

Your mind raced, surprised by his vulnerability, you paused and looked up into his eyes. In this moment, the resentment you too held for each other seemed to melt away, leaving something raw and unspoken in its place. You hated the way he made you feel so small and judged yet here he was at the same time, his vulnerable voice struck something else in you, making you hesitate. Quickly second guessing if you’d regret giving him a chance to talk to you. Opening the possibility of finding out the motives behind his spite and arrogance. The scene from earlier races across your mind. 

All you could do was mutter softly, “What could you possibly want to talk to me about, Rafe? To hurt me again? To prove that I don’t belong? I thought you made it clear your feelings towards me.” your voice breaking even more with every word. 

Rafe's grip on your arm tightened slightly, just enough for you not to walk away. He took a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. "Y/N, I know I've been a complete asshole. I know I've hurt you and pushed you away, but... it’s because I didn’t know how else to handle this. Handle us."

"Us?" you echoed, confused and overwhelmed.

"Yes, us," he said, stepping closer. "I can't stop thinking about you. It drives me crazy seeing you with them, with the Pogues. I hate it because I... I care about you." You searched his eyes, looking for a sense of truth behind his words. Could it be that all his hostility was masking something deeper he felt?

His confession left you stunned. You had always thought Rafe hated you. Ever since you knew Sarah, Rafe was only rude to you. Rolling his eyes every time he saw you, purposefully causing hell for you on the golf course, yet being overprotective when it came to you hanging with the pogues. These new emotions were a lot to take in, something you’d never think for Rafe Cameron to admit. 

“Why Rafe?” you spoke, your voice still barely above a whisper, “Why do you care so much about who I’m with?”

He hesitated at this, not sure whether to reveal the truth to his bitterness, “Because… because it’s you y/n” his voice finally breaking at his vulnerability, “Because you’re different. You make me feel things I don’t want to feel. I don’t know how to handle this.” 

Before you could process all of it, still looking wide-eyed at Rafe, he leaned in and captured your lips in a kiss. It was soft at first, hesitant, but then it grew more passionate. A knot in your stomach growing, the sensation of his lips felt like none other. You kissed him back, your heart pounding, swearing you never wanted this moment to end. This new side of Rafe was one you never wanted to end. 

Rafe pulled away abruptly, his eyes wide with regret. "I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I—" Against your best judgment, you closed the distance again, kissing him more passionately this time. The alcohol must’ve taken over the rational thinking of this situation, the four drinks you had taking its full effect. The moment his lips met yours, a surge of heat spread through your body, making your heart race and your skin tingle. His lips were surprisingly soft, a stark contrast to his usual rough demeanor.

His hands gently cupped your face, his touch both tender and possessive, sending shivers down your spine. Every movement of his lips against yours was intoxicating, drowning out the chaos of the party and the world around you. You could taste the remnants of alcohol on his breath, mingling with a hint of something sweet and entirely Rafe.

As the kiss deepened, you felt a mix of emotions – anger, desire, confusion, and an unexpected tenderness. It was as if all the tension, all the animosity between you, had been building up to this moment, where words were no longer necessary. Your mind struggled to keep up with the rush of feelings, but your body responded instinctively, leaning into him, craving more of his touch.

In that kiss, you felt a vulnerability you had never seen in Rafe before. It was raw and unfiltered, a glimpse into the complex layers beneath his tough exterior. The kiss was a silent confession, a bridge between your worlds that had been divided for so long. It was overwhelming, exhilarating, and left you breathless, with your heart pounding and your mind reeling from the sheer intensity of it all.

You both pulled away from the kiss, both breathless, your head swirling with a mix of new emotions. 

Rafe still noticed your still drunken state, leaving you in no condition to stay alone, “Y/n you shouldn’t be alone right now. Do you want a ride? You can stay the night at my house.” 

Despite your best judgment, you found yourself nodding and smiling. “Sure” is all you could muster out. Even if this was just for one night, you didn’t want these feelings to end. The intimate moment between you and Rafe was far from unexpected, and it was probably the alcohol but hell you didn’t want this night to end. You got out your phone and texted Sarah and the Pogues, letting them know you were getting a ride home and not to wait up for you, telling them you just needed some time to clear your head. You felt guilty for lying to your friends but you couldn’t help but wonder what the night held. 

Rafe led you to his truck, and the cold air flushed against your warm skin. Rafe opened the door for you, his touch lingering on your arm, you climbed in, your mind racing. The car ride was silent, but not awkward. You both stole glances at each other, the kiss and the rush of new emotions lingered in the air between you, heavy with unspoken words and possibilities. You couldn’t help but feel torn. On one hand, you saw a side of Rafe that was genuine and sincere, something that made you want to trust him. His body language, the way he carefully watched the road but still glanced at you, and his words from earlier all hinted at a deeper truth.

On the other hand, you couldn’t shake the nagging guilt and doubt. Trusting Rafe felt like betraying the Pogues, your friends who had been there for you through thick and thin. They despised him, and for good reason. His past actions, the way he treated you and others, loomed large in your mind. Was this a mistake? Would you regret this in the morning?

When you arrived at the Cameron residence, you both carefully and silently made your way up to Rafe's room, you were already familiar with the layout of his house due to being here millions of times hanging out with Sarah. Although despite the numerous hangouts, you have never once been into Rafe's room.

When you entered his room, you weren’t surprised by the size but more taken aback by the simplicity yet authenticity of his room. The smell of his cologne filling your nose, being the main aroma of his room. The room was dominated by a king-sized bed, neatly made with dark blue and grey bedding. In one corner stood a large grey sofa, both the bed and the sofa facing a ginormous TV mounted on the wall. His room was so organized, not a spec of clothing on the floor, it seemed like everything had its place. His dresser took you by the most surprise, it wasn’t even the dresser itself but the picture frames scattered on top of it, Rafe looked happy in all of them, yet again a new side of Rafe you haven’t seen.

Pulled out of your thoughts, Rafe comes back from rummaging through his closet and hands you some spare clothes for you to sleep in. You offered him a warm smile in exchange and made your way to the bathroom to change.

As soon as the bathroom door closed behind you, a surge of conflicting emotions hit you like a wave. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, your face flushed from both the alcohol and the events of the night. Questions and doubts flooded your mind. What were you doing here? Why had you agreed to stay? The uncertainty was eating at your stomach, making your heart race.

You began to change into the clothes Rafe had given you, the feel of the soft fabric against your skin oddly comforting. As you pulled his t-shirt over your head, engrossed by his scent, intensifying your internal conflict. Why did his presence, his touch, and his kiss stir such strong emotions within you?

The memory of the kiss flashed through your mind. The vulnerability you had seen in Rafe, the raw intensity of the moment, it all felt so real. The feeling you didn’t want to acknowledge came rising back, feeling uneasy about facing these emotions. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. You were witnessing a side of Rafe that made you question everything you thought you knew.

Once you emerged for the bathroom noticing Rafe already changed into some grey shorts and an old t-shirt, Rafe looked up and said, “You can have my bed tonight.” His voice was low and tired, “I’ll take the Sofa. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

You hesitated at his words, feeling a mix of uncertainty and trust. Despite everything, despite your best judgment and all the hatred you’ve had towards Rafe for years, it all seemed to fade in that moment, you found yourself shyly saying, “Can you sleep in the bed, please? It’s a big bed, plus it would make me feel safer.”

Partially knowing your need to feel safe was a lie, you felt a deeper pull in your gut—a need for his presence. Rafe paused at your response, searching your eyes for any sign of doubt, “Are you sure y/n?”

You nodded at him reassuring him of your answer. Rafe turned off the lights, only the moon illuminating a path to the bed. Both of you got into the bed, lying down side by side. The silence was thick with unspoken words and new feelings, and the room was charged with the intensity of the night’s events. The bed felt enormous with the space left between you, a sharp contrast from your previous closeness.

Lying there, you could feel the heat radiating from his body, a tangible reminder of how close he was. Your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, trying to process everything that had happened. You had always seen Rafe as the enemy, the source of your frustrations, but now he was something different, something you couldn't quite define. The kiss tonight felt like it changed everything you thought you knew about him. You saw Rafe with lots of girls at parties but never seen him touch them or kiss them the way he did to you. 

Rafe turned to you, interrupting your thoughts, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to hurt you tonight. I just... I don't know how to deal with these feelings. I’m sorry"

You turned towards him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes despite the darkness. "Rafe, why now? Why tonight?" The alcohol seemed to be fading from your system.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair and over his face, clearly still confused with his emotions, "I don't know. Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's just everything catching up to me. But when I saw you tonight, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You looked beautiful tonight y/n, I’ve tried to push it away, but I can’t anymore."

Your heart pounded in your chest, the weight of his words sinking in. You reached out, your fingers brushing against his. "Rafe, this is all so confusing. I've always thought you hated me. I’ve been friends with Sarah for so long, and all you ever did was give me death glares"

Rafe shook his head, his hand closing around yours. "I never hated you, Y/N. I was just too scared to admit how I felt. And I didn’t know how to deal with it. The truth is I’ve always liked you. You’re gorgeous y/n, I can never keep my eyes off of you." You could tell this was hard for him to admit, not being of the emotional type, but his confession tugged at your heartstrings. 

The raw honesty in his voice stirred something deep within you. Before you could stop yourself, you leaned in, capturing his lips in another kiss. He wrapped his hand around your waist pulling you closer. Your hand resting on the back of his neck, feeling the tension in his muscles. This kiss was softer, and more tender, but still charged with the same intensity and emotions as before. 

Rafe pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his breath warm against your lips. "I didn’t mean to complicate things."

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. "It's okay, Rafe. Maybe we both needed this."

Rafe's hands cupped your face, reconnecting your lips with a deeper kiss, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. The kiss was more than just a kiss; it was a confession, a release of everything you both had been holding back. You could feel the desperation in his touch, the way his fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer.

"Y/N," he murmured against your lips, his voice raw with emotion. "I need you."

The words sent a chill through you, and you responded with equal intensity. "I need you too, Rafe. I want you” 

He could feel the warmth of your body through his fingertips, a reminder of how vulnerable this moment was. His hands were steady, yet there was a slight tremor, betraying the storm of emotions he was feeling. Rafe slept with women before but it was never a feeling like this, he never felt nervous. 

As he slid your shirt off your shoulders, his eyes never left yours. There was a softness in his gaze, a silent question asking if this was truly okay. When you nodded, the trust in your eyes sent a wave of relief and gratitude through him. His touch grew bolder, his fingers trailing down your sides, savoring the feel of your skin.

When he finally reached the waistband of your pants, Rafe paused, taking a deep breath. This was it—the point of no return. He met your gaze again, searching for any sign of hesitation, but found only the same longing mirrored in your eyes. Slowly, he pulled your pants down, his hands skimming your legs, committing every detail to memory, not knowing if this moment would happen again. Rafe's breath hitched as he took in the sight of you, every inch of you in this intimate moment. 

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity

Rafe's heart raced as he stood back to take in the sight of you, fully exposed and completely trusting. There was a deep sense of awe mixed with desire, It was a connection, a moment of raw honesty between two people who had spent so long hiding their true feelings. He was nervous, not wanting to mess up this chance to show you how he truly felt, and that nervousness translated into gentleness. As he leaned in to kiss you again, his hands exploring your body with newfound confidence, he felt a surge of emotion he couldn't quite put into words—a mix of fear and excitement. 

At that moment, Rafe realized just how much he wanted this, and wanted you, and he vowed to himself that he would make this night unforgettable for both of you.

As Rafe reached for the hem of his shirt, you felt a rush of anticipation mixed with butterflies in your stomach. The reality of the situation hit you all at once, making your heart race, but you’ve never wanted him so badly. When Rafe lifted his shirt over his head, revealing his toned chest and muscular arms, you couldn't help but stare. The moonlight filtering through the window highlighted the contours of his body, casting shadows that emphasized his athletic build.

Your hands instinctively reached out to touch him, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles. His skin was warm and smooth under your touch, and you could feel the subtle quiver in his body, betraying his nervousness. As you explored his chest with your hands, you were overwhelmed by a mix of emotions. There was a deep, unspoken understanding between you, a silent acknowledgment of the complexity of your relationship. You didn’t know if this feeling would be there tomorrow, both of you silently promising to make the most of tonight. 

Your breath hitched as you moved closer, pressing your body against his. The feel of his skin against yours was intoxicating, heightening your senses and deepening the connection between you. Every kiss and every touch was filled with a newfound intensity, a reflection of the passion and desire that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

In that moment, you realized just how much you wanted this, wanted him. All the years of misunderstanding seemed to fade away, replaced by a powerful need to be close to him, to understand him in a way you never had before. As you lost yourselves in each other, you felt a sense of completeness, as if this was where you were meant to be all along.

Rafe's hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch with a hunger that matched your own. You arched into his touch, your breaths coming in short, sharp gasps as he found all the right spots. It was overwhelming, the sheer intensity of it all, but you didn’t want it to stop. Rafe broke the kiss and began slowly trailing down your neck, his mouth latching onto your breast, swirling your nipple, flicking and sucking, while his other hand cupped your other breast, kneading and teasing until you were a quivering mess beneath him.

He seemed to know exactly how to drive you wild, alternating between gentle caresses and firm, deliberate touches. His hand slowly trailed down your stomach, fingers brushing over your sensitive skin, before finally slipping between your thighs. You gasped as he found your entrance, his fingers stroking and circling, applying just the right amount of pressure.

Rafe's mouth never left your breast as he continued to pleasure you with his hand, his fingers moving in and out in a rhythm that matched the quickening beat of your heart. He added another finger, stretching and filling you, his thumb expertly finding your most sensitive spot. The combined sensations of his mouth on your breast and his hand between your legs sent you spiraling toward the edge. 

Just as you were about to tip over into bliss, he stopped abruptly, pulling his hand away. A whine escaped your lips, craving his touch once again. As scanned your eyes from approval one last time, he lined himself up with your entrance. With a gentle touch, Rafe guided himself into you, both of you gasping at the sensation. He moved slowly at first, giving you time to adjust, but soon the urgency took over, and his movements became faster, more desperate. The room was filled with the sounds of your mingled moans and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin. 

Pressing his body deeper into yours, you felt instant pleasure. You could see in his eyes that he felt it too—the same overwhelming pleasure, the same intense connection. You swore on your life you never felt something as good as his. Your moans filled the air and he picked up the pace. Rafe has never felt so exposed, yet so open to another person. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear to be even an inch away from you. The intensity of it all was almost too much to bear, but you didn’t want it to stop.

You lost track of time, the world outside fading away until there was only the two of you. Every thrust sent waves of pleasure through you, building higher and higher until you felt like you might explode. Rafe's name spilled from your lips, laced with need and desire. You could feel him getting close, his movements becoming more erratic.

With a final, powerful thrust, you both came undone, your bodies trembling with the intensity of your release. The climax washed over you in waves, each more intense than the last, leaving you breathless and completely satisfied. Rafe collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms as you both tried to catch your breath. His chest rose and fell rapidly, matching the frantic beat of your own heart as you clung to each other.

The silence was filled with a new kind of intimacy, the kind that comes from sharing something profound. As your breathing slowly returned to normal, you became aware of the lingering warmth of his body against yours, and the sound of his heartbeat beneath your ear. It was a moment of pure bliss, that you wished could last forever.

You could feel Rafe's fingers gently stroking your back, his touch tender and reassuring. The connection between you felt stronger than ever, a bond forged not just in passion, but a sense of trust that had developed between you. A feeling you had never experienced before, a sense of completeness that made you never want to leave his side. Your mind couldn’t help but drift to the complexity of your relationship and the uncertainties that the future held. You tried to push the worries to the back of your mind, savoring the moment of how his body felt against yours.

As you drifted off to sleep, Rafe’s arms wrapped around you protectively, you couldn’t help but wonder what this meant for the two of you. You knew that this moment was fleeting, that the reality of your complicated relationship would come crashing back in the morning, but for now, you allowed yourself to savor the feeling of being close to him. You held onto a string of hold that maybe, this could last.

--——----------————- ❥・-------------------------

Please like and repost so I know to post more chapters:)🫶 Thank you for reading!

[pascaloverx]

Forbidden Romance (+18)

Summary: You are in love with Prince Thor. He will soon be King and is hosting a ball between Kingdoms so he can find his future bride. Unfortunately, the Kingdom of Asgard is not ready to accept the Chief of the Royal Guard as the new Queen.

Warnings: inappropriate language, use of violence and adult content in the future of fanfic. some characters belong to the Marvel universe and others were created by the author. This chapter has adult content (smut). Minors do not read or interact with this fanfic.

chapter four chapter six

Chapter Five

The next day, you feel the weight, the weight of being practically engaged to Prince Steve, of having broken up with Thor, and mostly of having drunk too much alcohol. You get up, preparing your bathtub for a bath. You take advantage of your last moments of privacy. Or so you thought, until you hear someone knocking on your door.

"Who is it?" You ask as you take off your sleepwear and get into the bathtub.

"Your future husband." Says Steve from behind his bedroom door. It would be inappropriate to be seen alone with him. But you're far from adequate anyway.

"Come in, future husband." You decide to say this in the hope that he will come to you.

"Do you think it's appropriate?" He asks without even entering your room. You smile softly thinking that if it was Thor on the other side of the door, he would already be inside your room and more specifically inside you.

"You're the prince here. Tell me what you think?" You say, passing the soap over your body gently. He then enters your room, closing the door behind him, you can hear him hesitate a little to get close to you.

"You didn't tell me you were busy." Steve says as he sits on the edge of your bed. You move your hands over your body while he watches you.

"Prince. You want to marry me, then let's be honest with each other. I'm not the type to be shy in situations like this. If I asked you to come in, it's because I don't consider what I'm doing now, something I can't do in front of you." You say, still bathing while Steve seems to want to understand you. He must be intrigued. Perhaps in his kingdom, there is not so much sincerity or debauchery.

"Since we're being honest, can I join you?" He says pointing to the bathtub. You smile, while shaking your head positively. Minutes later, Steve was naked. It even surprised you how quickly he took off his clothes. He then got into the bathtub, while groaning a little from the temperature of the water.

"Sorry for not letting you know, I usually take colder showers than normal for royalty. If you want, I can go get more hot water." You say as you approach Steve.

"Can you hug me? I think I'll feel warmer this way." Prince Steve speaks shyly and you get even closer, hugging his naked body. His body was a little sensitive, you felt him shiver when you got closer. However his penis seemed to be excited by your presence.

"Can I ask you a personal question, given the fact that we are so close?" You ask as you hold Steve tight against your body.

"You can." He speaks close to your ear while resting his head on your shoulder.

"Does it bother you that I had a relationship with Thor before?" You speak and he sighs.

"No. I don't care. In fact I may be embarrassed right now but I also have my affairs. Even Barnes and I were involved." Steve speaks casually while holding your waist, making you feel lighter while you're in the bathtub.

"I sensed an atmosphere between you two. I must admit, I thought about having something with Barnes but I always thought he didn't know how to be casual." You say, approaching Steve, feeling his penis rub against your pussy. You let out a low moan feeling your body tense.

"Do you think we can be casual? Leaving aside the fact that I will be your husband, of course. You will not be obligated to do anything. If you want, we can only interact with the intention of producing an heir." Steve speaks assertively and you just move getting on top of him, making the edge of his member enter you a little.

"My heart, Your Highness, is busy. But my body and mind are available. You will have a place by my side as long as you know how to value me. Are we understood?" You talk going up and down Steve's lap, feeling him slowly enter and exit you. You both moan as you cling to each other subtly. Until then, neither of you had kissed the other. Just thrusts of him inside you while you hold him against your body. Which was delicious. And slow, oddly enough.

"I'll show you that I know how to value you better than anyone else." He speaks close to his face as he thrusts into you faster. You can't concentrate on the conversation but he manages to concentrate enough to capture Steve's lips on your lips. You kiss him passionately as you hold him closer to you, feeling your orgasm coming. Steve looks like he's going to explode as he practically swallows your lips. Minutes later you and him cum while kissing.

“You are promising, Your Highness. I have to admit." You say as you feel his body under yours, he seems tired.

"Now I definitely don't know why Thor didn't make you Queen." He speaks and then laughs a little. You kiss his neck, and then help him take a shower properly. You get out of the shower soon after and get ready, as later you will formally announce the marriage to King Odin.

"Your Highness, I recommend that you prepare yourself, we will have a busy day today." You say, kissing Steve softly on the lips and opening the door to his room so he can leave. Unfortunately for the two of you, Thor is standing in front of your bedroom door.

"I thought it would take you longer to get over me." Thor says as he watches you and Steve. It's obvious that he knows that you guys have sex.

"If you came here to complain, I suggest you look for someone interested in listening to you." You say responding seriously to Thor. Steve remains by your side, as if he had your back.

"I might add that I don't think it's appropriate to discuss this here." Steve says looking firmly at Thor who seems very uncomfortable.

"Don't worry, Rogers. I only came here because it is essential for you to know that King Odin is ill. His immediate rest has been requested and I as primary heir to the crown, will be replacing him in his duties as King." Thor says looking at you and Steve. There is a certain sadness and superiority in his eyes.

"I will lend my support to the King. Be well, my bride. And my condolences Thor, I hope your father recovers soon." Steve says kissing his forehead and quickly going to the King. Thor continued looking at you. You wanted to ignore him and went ahead to see but you couldn't. You hugged him instead. You knew that Odin was very important to him.

"I will forgive your betrayal because I understand that you are hurt. But know that if it depends on me, no man, no matter if he is a Prince or King, will marry you. You are mine. Don't forget that." Thor says as he hugs you and you feel heavy in his arms. It seems like it will be harder than you thought marry Prince Steve.

[caesarflickermans]

What appeals to you about Virgilia's character? What is your favorite part of her character?

Virgilia came to me during and in the aftermath of a family dispute that was rather minor in and of itself. It was a raw but not new moment — head on floor, tears in eyes, hands on ears. I'll leave that girl with the privacy she deserves, but it's an emotion turned image as a bystander, encapsulating my family dynamics in an eye-opening moment how they shaped my life as a minor and an adult.

I've written Virgilia very specific in the dynamics she has lived through and the dynamics she is living in; many women have walked a similar journey — whether it is their family, their partners (past or present) or any other close figure, whereupon the way they have been treated was abusive in all varieties of what abusiveness can entail; some of these sexist, some not. Living in such environments is the real experience of the frog in water beginning to boil. A deep fog of normalcy that surrounds us and turns us blind to reality. I've not been born into boiling water, but I was young enough whereupon there exists only a brief before.

Virgilia's journey is a representative, an accumulation of, and therefore a very extreme and intense image of many such lived realities. It's what came first to me about this character, and what made her so interesting to explore further. I've toyed with the idea of Snow's wife prior, somehow always having been a younger version and a second wife, who had been more akin to a femme fatale trope, and ultimately much more liveless and stereotyped because of it. Needless to say, those versions never stuck.

The emotional and mental effects of abuse are so often incorporated with the (sexual) violence faced, and while Virgilia is, too, a victim of sexual abuse, it was a very conscious decision to highlight the former in her journey. Abuse resulting in violence is at the centre of conversations surrounding the topic. From help centres to fictional representations, to me, being abused meant facing physical violence or the threat thereof. To this day, I don't identify with the term. In creating this character, I wanted it to be a story that has the emotional abuse at its forefront. Whereupon a sense of normalcy could grasp one much more easily because physical brutality is absent from one's life — then it's not real, right?

The Virgilia we meet at the start of SSLWR is an idealistic girl who dreams about her idealistic future life with a husband falling in love with her. It's an image taught to her by her family — the very same people who have raised expectations upon her on who to be. Her dreams would be vastly different if given the chance to live a self-determined life, and it is her family and the obligation she feels for them that colour her ideas of the marriage with Snow. Any kind of alarm bells have been taught for her not to ring.

The Virgilia right before she meets Plutarch is not that different. She has learned to survive in this life and has understood what her role and its expectations truly mean. Her love for Snow is both true and not true. She has found a role within the confides of this mansion, and she is playing it for as long as she possibly can. Some part of her, deep down, has a sense of this being wrongful, but it's the ever presence of her circumstances that she cannot realise the extent of those wrongs in this situation.

Plutarch is more than a love interest. He is a source of knowledge she has been craving that has been denied to her. He is patience embodied; allowing her time to develop thoughts and words to articulate herself. He views her not as an object, but an equal he respects and share his ideals with, both to voice his thoughts in her presence and consider her replies — granting them a place to grow and influence him in return. The relationship with him is vital not only in emancipation, but in showing that her ideals of the world — Virgilia is a romantic at heart — are not wrong in and of itself: It is the outside (her family, her husband) that twisted them into something rotten.

I am excited for what the future for Virgilia holds. I want the journey to be reflective of the people it is meant to reflect, which means that the path ahead is a difficult one. We left Virgilia in SSLWR in a moment where she developed her own agency as a vital step of this journey. We will see more of that — of Virgilia acting herself and doing rebellious acts for herself. But I explicitly did not want this character to shed all the past abuse she has faced. It is not realistic, nor a rewarding journey. I wanted her to retain her softness, her dream-like idea of the world, and the grievances she has faced and still faces. I want to see a character who overcomes her past while being shaped by it.

All of that is my favourite aspect of her character. It's her journey; and it's how and why this journey exists that is very close to my heart. Thinking about her, writing from her perspective, and walking this journey with her has aided in my own process of grappling with the past. I hope her story appeals to people from all walks of life, but I especially hope it gives air to those who need it.

[arotechno]

Carnival of Aros December 2022: Aro adulthood and growing older with the aro community

When I heard that this month's theme for the Carnival of Aros was about getting older, I knew I had to write something from the perspective of someone who has been here a comparatively long time, but it still quite young. I realized I was aro in the spring of 2014, when I was 15 years old, a freshman in high school. I’m 24, now, and while I’m far from being able to call myself an older aro, it does certainly feel that way sometimes.

When I was a little kid, I assumed that I would one day marry, with the two and a half kids and the white picket fence and the whole nuclear family song and dance that I was, of course, expected to strive for. I never held any judgment for people who didn’t have that life, but I didn’t have the knowledge or the self-awareness to ever visualize anything else for myself. As I grew a bit older, into my early teen years, it was something that I just stopped considering entirely. I knew a traditional marriage wasn’t something I wanted anymore, and I didn’t know or really care if that was something that would one day change. By the time I learned what aromanticism was, I had long since concluded that I had never had a real crush before, didn’t want to, and maybe, just maybe, never would—I just hadn’t realized this wasn’t how I was “supposed” to think.

My journey with aromanticism today as an adult looks vastly different compared to eight and a half years ago, partly due to the ways the aro community has grown and evolved since then and partly due to the natural progression of age, wisdom, and circumstance. Being aromantic was really isolating when I was younger, and I was closeted for most of the last decade, aside from a few close friends who knew. As a teenager, my biggest problems were equal parts trying to cope with my peers getting into their first relationships and leaving me behind, and trying to hide the truth from them about their being anything abnormal or mockable about me.

That’s changed as I’ve gotten older, of course. I’ve written about aro adulthood somewhat extensively lately, and the thing about coming to terms with being aromantic—and later, nonpartnering—that blows your whole future wide open. When the path that has been laid out for you in life turns out to be an illusion, you have not only the freedom but the obligation to create a new one, something that will actually make you happy. Unfortunately, you often have to do a lot of clawing and scraping to get there. Much of my adult life thus far has been about trying to prove to other people, whether out of necessity or out of perceived inadequacy, that I am a Real Adult, that I am a complete person with a place in this world, even if I never cross many of those traditionally expected milestones to get there.

As I’ve said, I often feel older than I am when it comes to being aro, simply because I was here at such an early time in the community, watching, lonely. There are folks twice my age who have known they were aro half as long, and at the same time there are kids now younger than I was who are aro themselves and have more than one aro friend at school. In a way, I sometimes felt a little stunted—there were kids now as young as 12 or 13 who were out and proud as aro to everyone they knew, and here I was, a grown adult still too afraid to tell my parents after the better part of a decade, even after moving out and building a new support system on my own.

I know now that of course it didn’t matter, that everyone is on their own trajectory in life and there’s nothing wrong with being in the closet forever, if you need or want to. The truth was, when I was a teenager we didn’t live in a world where I could have been out as aro. My aromantic journey has been inextricable from the shame, guilt, and fear of mockery that came with it, made particularly potent by the environment that came to be on tumblr and the rest of the internet just a year or so after I came to terms with being aro. And I am happy that we have created a world, now, where that doesn’t have to be the case anymore, and I’m proud to have had any small part in creating that world. And I know that this is still only just the beginning.

[chaos-le-mieux]

Error Flowey: Profile 1

Well, considering he's somewhat part of the Error Chara's story, I figured I'd shed some info on him. And since his role in the main story is somewhat minor, I'll be giving more information on what he can do, since there's a good chance I'll never need to use any of it. Just for reference sake, if anyone is curious. Back Story: He comes from a Classic Universe, one of the Undertale Game worlds. As Omega Flowey, the Player in control of Frisk was never able to free the six souls, and they gave up. And Never Came Back! But Nobody Came... (This actually happened to one of my IRL friends a few years ago). Being stuck in a sub void of nothingness, in a game where he cannot interact with anything, he got desperate. Since he was able to create a dimension with a dummy save file and save states, he figured he could modify and edit values of his world. After six months of solitude, of messing around with the games code, he began to mess with his own. And after some trial and error Error ErRoR ERROR... his world... was no more. Emerging in the void, all his memories in tact and a new colour pallet, he would wonder. Looking for anything to hold his interest, to perhaps give purpose to his uncaring existence. Appearance: He has near Black skin, rich Blue petals, Purple stem and leaves, and White floaty "Error" messages that hovers around him. His eye sockets are White and Hollow, unless he closes them around his pupils. His pupils are Magenta, though he can hide them making his eyes look Hollow and White. Stats: ATK: 66? DEF: 6? LV: 20     EXP: 99999Error Attack strength is high due to two factors, High LV and being an "Error" (what ever that means) Defense is still technically high compared to regular monsters, but not ground breaking. Though, with strong attack stat, and high HP pool, plus glitchiness, I don't think it matters to much. Level of Violence is 20, a.k.a. Max due to not caring. He's incredibly distant from anyone and everyone (almost) that he can easily bring himself to harm others. Execution Points are overclocked because of all the AU's he's destroyed on a whim. Special Abilities: Substrate Burrow: Can burrow into any surface (unless a coder, hacker, or creator puts barriers in place), including the void floor. This is how he's able to get information across the void. He's able to spy on any target and stay out of sight. And he's a curious one, remember, he's read every book, he's burned every book. Plant Tendrils: These operate similar to the coding strings of other Errors, but are vines instead Friendliness Pellets: They're bullets, let's not kid ourselves Transformations: Depending on how many Human Souls, or Monster Souls Equivalents, will determine what level he can transform into. Soul Level: 0: Error Flowey 1: Error Asriel (Young - similar to how he looked in flashbacks) 2: Error Asriel (Pre Teen) 3: Error Asriel (Teen) 4: Error Asriel (Young Adult Similar to how he looked during phase 1 of the final battle) 5: Error Asriel (Adult) 6: Error Omega Flowey 7: Error of HyperDeath As Error Asriel he will also don a Golden Heart Locket. He also hates being in his Asriel forms, while much stronger, his compassion and emotions eventually start flooding back in. And lets just say he has a lot of baggage he wishes not to have emotions for. Error Flowey's Goal!? Aside from battling boredom, he does have a personal goal, that's more or less a curse on him. Whenever he see's a Chara that reminds him of his own, he feels obligated to help them achieve their goal. The reason for this is in his mind he has failed his Chara three times. First time is the buttercup incident. Second time is letting them both die at the hands of Humans. Third time is destroying his home world, making His Chara's sacrifices all in vain, as monsters can never be set free in a destroy and erased world Relationships: 6 Human Souls: In his travels though the void he encountered 6 souls that reside within his inventory. Bravery, Justice, Kindness, Patients, Integrity, Perseverance. These souls all come from corrupted worlds where they felt cheated and wanted a second chance to set things right. They act as a council of sorts. Guiding Flowey to help him make informed decisions as to not just destroy everything he sees as an inconvenience. Though most of the time they just sleep. Error Chara: Even though he knows this Chara is not His Chara, he still feels something familiar about them. To the point where he can track them down no matter where they are. He knows their plan involves uniting Sans's and Chara's across the multiverse, and despite also thinking the plan is stupid and destined to fail, he will provide as much information as they need. He will also try to keep distractions away from Error Chara so they can stay focused on their goal. Enjoy~

[donnabroadway]

I find it interesting that people are shocked about Brian McKnight and how he's allegedly treating his biological kids while favoring his step kids, new son, and new wife. It is one thing to move on and create a new family, it is another thing to rub salt in a wound and publicly malign the older kids as lazy, disrespectful, and money hungry when his wife's daughter from another relationship, one that belongs to another man, drives a $50,000 car she cannot afford to maintain and probably lives in a house that he is paying for but go off. Brian McKnight is no longer obligated to care for, provide for, or even talk to his older children because technically his job is done but he needs to stop talking because the mutual estrangement explanation wasn't it and if I was the new wife and kids, I would milk him for as much as I can but I would keep my good eye on him because the only difference between the new family and the old one is Brian is still humping their mother but once that stops, these kids will join the mutual estrangement club because that seems to be his M.O. If he's willing to rewrite history and erase prior children for the sake of his new family and children that aren't blood and he just met a few years ago, he will go the same to the other children, including the new baby, his legacy. I see a lot of people on social media shocked at how they're the rule, not the exception. Too many second baby mamas, second wives, and second set of children in the same boat as the first baby mama, first wife, and first set of children that were previously discarded and they giggled and added to the misery and victim blamed but are now shocked that they are receiving the same treatment and are upset that the first set don't want to form an alliance of sorts when they tried and were rejected because the second saw no reason for alliance when they had the upper hand.

After a certain age, a close bond that goes beyond familial and genetic ties is a privilege and a bonus and sadly everyone won't get that. We have to acknowledge that once children leave the nest, they build their own lives, own careers, family, friend groups, and become fully independent autonomous beings outside of their parents and family, that the close relationship is a privilege on both sides and it is the responsibility of both people to want that and want to work on that. We can also acknowledge that some people just click and it's natural while other people are forced into it and have to work harder to find common ground and maintain at least a cordial relationship and sometimes, people don't want to work that hard, especially for something that has no immediate benefits. When a child is younger, the parents may provide because of legal and moral obligation and protecting their reputation and oftentimes, when the parent gets older, the motivation to repair and maintain the relationship may be out of fear of loneliness and dying alone without someone to care for them. During peak years, which may be mid-late thirties all the way up to late 50s, when the child is a legal adult and not the responsibility of the parent and the parent can waive away any legal or moral responsibility and the parent is still old enough to have another child/family and can relive their perceived lost youth, without obligation and if the relationship between the parent and first child(ren) was always strained and one out of moral and legal obligation, and not love, it may not be a priority to go above and beyond to maintain that relationship besides the obligatory holiday, birthday celebration, check in phone call/text, and special occasion. Notice, I am using the world obligation a lot.

I think what hurts the most is the expectation. We may not always want it and may be okay with not having it but we don't want to seem like bad people because we do care what society thinks of us and it's easier to call our adult kids ungrateful, disrespectful, and lazy and other superlatives then acknowledging that we raised them cerebrally than from the heart and we don't really care about our kids or like them as people. You can provide food, clothing, shelter, a safe environment, money for extracurriculars, rides to and fro, cheer them on in the stands but if you've never taken your child in your arms and told them you love them or support them unconditionally and not just in a checkbox way, it kind of negates all of that. Do you show up to the game and sow the uniforms? yes but you spend the entire game and ride home criticizing and berating them and making them not feel good enough and they remember that. No one remembers the dresses, even though you may, they remember that when you were alone, you never said good job, you only told them what they could do better. Kids also remember how you never laughed or joked with them but you also laughed and joked with their sibling and while they may not say anything, they want to laugh and joke with you too, without it eventually being pulled back so they back off and go where they're wanted. It may not necessarily be an estrangement but just a one of us stopped calling each other and putting in the work on a one sided relationship and it fell by the wayside.

If you have a relationship with your children based on obligation when they're younger and you're forced to provide their basic needs or you will go to jail or look like a bad parent, when they got older, they will have a relationship with you based on obligation and not wanting to look like a bad child. It doesn't change just because you grow up figuratively and they grow up literally. A relationship built on obligation will always be that because that is the foundation. Just like you took care of them because you had to, they will take care of you because they have to as well, not because they want to. You can always tell the difference. Parents seem to forget they choose either a nursing home or living with their children or independently, with care given or either paid for by their children. There are a lot of lonely parents in nursing homes, not just fathers, because they put themselves there when they were younger. Just like you reminded your kids that you don't owe them anything once they turn 18, they don't owe you anything either. It's a two way street and many parents tend to forget that until they are older and actually need their kids and now it's too late and they have to resort to using forgiveness and manipulation to have a caregiver in their old age. After a certain age, you become just another person in the world. Yes, your kids are grown. I know black parents like to use this term as a slur or slight insult when they feel like their kids are getting too far from under their thumb but if I have my name on a mortgage or rent that I pay without your assistance, if I go to work everyday to pay my bills and put food on my table, if I am able to function independently without a parental figure, I am grown. Sorry to say and this is not disrespectful, but I am grown just like you are. There is no difference except age and you're my parent. There really is no difference if I have a family and children I support. Parents have to accept their adult children are grown and don't have to take their disrespect and neither of you are obligated to have a relationship or speak with each other, except when you want. Why is it so hard for parents to accept when their adult children are just as grown as they are?

When deciding to have a "baby" you need to think long and hard because a baby is an extension of you but they are only a baby for a short amount of time but the time they are adults, God willing, is a lot longer. If the average lifespan is 76 years, than 18 is only a drop in the bucket. Parents forget that life goes from that child being referred to as "your baby" to you being referred to as "(insert child's name) mother" really fast. When my oldest daughter was born, I knew the goal was to eventually get her out of my home. I don't say this in a countdown to 18 way but that, again, God willing, she will only be under my direct care for a few years but she will be her own person with her own thoughts, ideas, life, goals and I was only a small part of that. It would be beautiful to have a bigger role in her life when she gets older but I know after a certain age, that is not a guarantee and while I know I make plenty mistakes, the time to earn that place is now and not when she's a full blown adult. I also know that I have to respect her and her boundaries. I see too many parents failing to respect their children's even most basic privacy. It is one thing to ask for the door to be open, it is another thing to completely remove the door of the hinges, thus removing all privacy to do basic things like change your clothes and do homework or read in silence. Everyone deserves privacy and removing a door won't stop a sneaky child from doing what they want to do. There is no one that "nevers" more than a child you think you have a tight grip on. At some point, you cannot control your children, you can only offer them guidance and support but their choices are their own. They are not your babies, they are their own people and like I said, you are only a small portion of their life. Their world doesn't revolve around you and your world shouldn't revolve around them, which is why parents should always have their own lives and interests outside of their children and be ready for their child to transition from childhood to adulthood. It is inevitable and preventing them from leaving or stunting their growth will not work. As I have said many times, at some point the relationship becomes a choice for both parties involved. Just like a child may choose not to have either parent as an integral part of their life, a parent may also choose to distance themselves from an adult child. Some parents choose to distance themselves from their children as youth and become surprised when their child does the same. Sometimes, there is no one more vengeful than a child waiting for the tables to turn. Just like you don't owe your child anything over the legal age of obligation, your child doesn't owe you anything. You have to work for the relationship. Blood and proximity is not a given. You have to respect your children as people, it is okay to admit you raised a person independent of yourself, because that is the goal, and cheer them on from the sidelines. Your children are people and should be treated as such. Just like you are a person and you want to be treated as such. When the child becomes an adult, respect goes both ways. it is not a one way street only going towards the parents. You need to respect your child, who they are, the choices they made and how they live their life, even if you don't agree with it. You don't have to agree no one asked you.

[simplepotatofarmer]

For the birthday post perhaps could you talk about your favorite c!Technoblade dynamic?

perfect!

if i'm honest, c!techno's relationships with the various people on the smp are among my favorites. there's always something deeply comforting about them. he has a way of interacting with people that's light-hearted and yet often kind in his way.

i love his and ranboo's friendship, particularly how much concern techno shows for him. he tries to act as if he doesn't care or feel anything for him - 'my heart isn't moved at all' - but it's clear that's not the case. even before ranboo moved to the arctic, techno was looking out for him. he found the 'do not read' book in a moment where ranboo was on the opposing side of him and gave it back, telling him to get out of there. and when bad trapped him with the egg, techno tried to stay calm but the worry in his voice was clear. despite techno being protective of his possessions and despite ranboo having his own trident, techno still threw his down in an effort to get ranboo out. then there's the entire woodland mansion trip which contains such good natured ribbing and affection and the fact that techno reacted to ranboo's 'main character powers' by immediately declaring himself ranboo's mentor.

i also adore the way c!techno interacts with c!dream. dream has painted himself as a villain and has been painted as the server boogeyman not undeservedly. but techno looks at dream, who is considered his equal in skill, and spends the entire time treating him like anyone else. he teases the shit out of dream while also acknowledging they're on equal footing (the power play between them at the nether portal confrontation is the best example, they were both figuring each other out, what each of them was willing to do or give in the context of the favor). personally, i think that's important for dream and i like that techno is so often able to get that frustrated laugh out of him.

but my absolute favorite is, of course, him and phil.

there's a lot of headcanons surrounding how they met. i love all of them but i'll admit, my favorite is them meeting as adults. something about how close their friendship is, how deeply they care about each other, but without the undertones of a father-son dynamic just honestly moves me. it just does. phil treats techno as an equal, someone he chooses to look out for because he cares for him, not because of any sort of obligation. phil knows his friend so well. knows when he's stressed, when something's wrong - 'are you okay? you're awfully jumpy' - and he knows what sort of comfort that techno needs: someone who will be there for him, quietly, consistently, without wanting anything from him, seeing him as a person, simply because he cares for techno. for someone like techno, who struggles with paranoia, anxiety, and the fear of being used and betrayed/left, the fact that phil is consistently by his side? so important. he puts his trust in techno, a huge thing considering he only has one canon life, and stands by him. techno doesn't need grand gestures, he needs exactly what phil gives him out of no obligation, merely because he cares for techno.

and the way techno is with phil? so sweet, so soft.

techno is an emotional person. he struggles with showing those emotions but they're there and he feels them deeply, you can see it in the moments it bubbles to the surface, how sometimes his voice cracks a bit when he yells, the moments where he goes quiet because he's moved and doesn't know how to express it. because expressing it might make him vulnerable and that might get him hurt again. but with phil, he puts how much he cares about him on full display. this is his friend, the one person he trusts, the one of the very few that hasn't hurt or used him. and so techno declares that he would give the world for phil, he entrusts him with his location, with his safety, he gives him a gift explicitly stating their friendship, he puts himself in harms way for phil - it's always 'technoblade never dies' until it's 'phil look out' instead - and when he was being dragged to his death, the words he shouted were concern for his friend.

there is something truly, genuinely touching about their friendship. how they know each other so well and know what the other needs. techno trusts phil, not only with his location and safety but with his struggles dealing with the voices. techno also worries about what phil thinks of him. he didn't show phil the vault because he didn't want his friend to think poorly of him. techno, who seemingly doesn't care about what others think of him, truly wants to be good and worthy in phil's eyes. but this doesn't mean they don't disagree! in fact, they do, they have, and i find that just as important. there is a deep respect and care for each other that even in a world where the smallest of disagreements can result in a blood feud or all out war, they can disagree and that stands out and in the best way possible.

in short, sometimes when i think about how much they care for each other, how their friendship is founded on mutual respect, the way phil built his house to connect to techno's as if to say 'i'm always by your side, mate', the way techno knowing he was a wanted man handed phil the compass as if to say 'trusting you is more important', i have to sit down and cry.

happy birthday, cc!techno, and thank you for creating a character who is complex and interesting and has so many interesting and moving relationships.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Hear me out... aro/seth

Interesting choice, anon. I mean, I support rare pairs in this fandom, because otherwise it's just the canon pairings and that's far too boring.

That said, I don't think this one's going to happen.

The Land of Canon

I believe Seth is 14 when he first transforms into a wolf/when Eclipse takes place. He's not going anywhere or getting into a serious non-teenage dating relationship with anybody.

As it is, he's busy protecting the land from an army of vampires and when the Volturi roll around it's as the enemy of the Cullens who, thanks to Renesmee, are sort of Seth's people now.

It's all very confusing.

But he does like the Cullens, they seem to be very cool people, especially Edward.

(God, Seth, what did Edward even say to you for you to have any good opinion of him at all.)

By the time Seth is an adult, Aro's so far off the table he might as well be in space. Seth went to war against this guy, this guy is the ancient vampire king of demons, it's just--no never going to happen.

As for Aro, well, he's a) head over heels for Carlisle b) is now preparing for the inevitable war against the Cullens (which may or may not include Seth's people). To be honest, he probably didn't even really notice Seth's existence, he was just another potential combatant.

The Land of Not Canon

Well, again, we come back to that first problem for Aro: he's besotted with Carlisle Cullen. While I hardly think Aro is monogamous or straight, given the way he talks about Carlisle, and some hints we get from other characters I get the feeling that Aro didn't sleep around much after Carlisle had left.

Why have the rest when you've had the best?

Time he spends seducing Not-Carlisle could be spent talking about Carlisle.

And true, Carlisle gets himself a wife, but Aro has one of those too and that doesn't mean much.

So, I don't think Aro would sleep with Seth (who is born much much later) in a world where Carlisle came to Volterra. I especially don't think he'd pursue a romantic relationship with him.

Aro would probably be fascinated by this previously unknown species, would find Seth a very friendly and likeable chap, but that's about where it ends.

On Seth's end, when would these two even come across each other? If Aro had come during Eclipse then cleanup likely would have happened on schedule and he'd be zipping over to Carlisle who would be very grateful that the Volturi came so promptly.

In a world where he has never met Carlisle before he's still zipping over to Carlisle because this is the hottest, weirdest, most perfect man he's seen in his life. So he has a wife, pssh, Aro has one too. Aro can work with this.

(Edward loathes him on sight for daring to think of seducing Carlisle. Carlisle has no idea what's even happening but he guesses the coven can come and visit Italy when they move next.)

Seth is also only fourteen here.

If none of that happens then Seth would have to somehow cross paths with Aro which is... well, unlikely. If he's a wolf, then he has to stay close to the res and the tribe, he can never truly leave per his obligations to protect his people.

If he's not, then he has to happen to travel to Italy, happen to visit Volterra, and then happen to visit the Volturi.

It's just not very likely

Let's Say That Happens

Alright, I'll try to make this work.

Aro never met Carlisle in this world.

As a result, Carlisle likely is a hermit who flees from the sight of vampires, as he never learned that vampires were anything but demonic beings.

The Cullen coven is never created, Carlisle is a single doctor, and Bella is hit by a car in a parking lot.

Aro continues on much as he always has.

An adult Seth, who never turned into a wolf because there was only one vampire in town for a few years, wins a free trip to Turkey (courtesy of Heidi) and somehow ends up in Volterra Italy because of it.

He's invited to be dinner, but is not eaten, because thanks to his latent shapeshifter blood, he smells disgusting. Jane actually pushes him out of the room.

Seth, sitting there with the secretary, realizes that he may not have actually won a free trip.

Afterwards, Caius votes to kill the awful smelling young man, but Aro is intrigued. This could be a gift. A really weird gift, and not one he needs, but hey color him curious.

HE WILL MEET THIS AWFUL SMELLING MAN.

Aro does and discovers Seth is a surprisingly friendly young man for having just been eaten. Aro lays out the deal for him: either you turn or I unfortunately have to kill you.

Well, Seth isn't all that keen on the eating people bit...

Aro tells Seth he's much too young to die over noble causes and tells Seth he'll give him a week to think about it. Also, if he runs or tries to tell anyone, they will find him and his end will be painful.

Well, Seth does like not being executed for a week, so he takes Aro up on it. They spend the week chatting, Seth is very amiable and Aro turns out to know everything about everything.

Seth still doesn't want to eat people though nor does he want to live forever in Italy. It'll hurt his mom, sister (grieving over the loss of Seth's father), and Charlie (who is already grieving over the loss of his daughter) but it sounds like he can't keep contact with them anyway.

And Leah would kill him if he decided to become a bloodsucking monster. (Not that she didn't try to kill him over his free vacation, she'd thought it was a scam and turns out she was right).

A week passes, Seth still votes to die, though asks that Aro tell his sister and mother that he fell off a cliff in Turkey or something.

Aro says that's too bad and kills him quickly. He sends very nice flowers to Leah and Sue.

...

Honestly, I tried anon.

Let's Try Again

For some reason, Seth is a shapeshifter, for some reason, he's in Volterra having never met the Volturi and for some reason having an open mind about vampires. Aro has never met Carlisle.

Seth smells awful, Aro is intrigued, a very weird night is had by all where Aro decides he will seduce this good looking (but terribly smelling) not quite human man.

Seth leaves the next morning, not quite sure what happened.

Caius judges Aro forever.

Aro judges himself.

[firstofficerwiggles]

Chapter 2: Adventures in Space Babysitting

Link to Chpt. 1, Chpt. 3

Pairing: The Mandalorian x female reader

Rating: T

Warnings: Mild swearing, sexual arousal, references to sexual relationships, canonical violence

Word Count:~5600

Summary: Caretaker reader is settling into her job and she realizes she has a crush on Mando. Some fluff, action, and little angst in this chapter.

Author’s Note: Welcome to Chpt. 2! I haven’t really written anything with angst before so I hope you think that part went okay. Thanks for reading!

The little green body launches itself up onto your bed yet again waking you in the early hours of the morning. The child snuggles up close to your chest and you can’t help but rub his little back with soothing motions. You have tried to get the child on a routine these past few weeks, and this seems to be the one pattern he’s most pleased to follow every day. The first time he showed up in your bed you thought Mando had placed him there as a subtle hint that it was your turn to be on child duty. However, when you heard Mando frantically looking for the toddler that first morning, you knew the little one had managed to sneak his way over to you all on his own. Neither you nor Mando know much about the child’s life before Mando rescued him, but it seems to you that it must have been difficult, because he appears to be starved for affection and he seeks it out every chance he gets. You’ve always been a cuddler yourself though so you are happy to oblige him and honestly although it means you don’t get to sleep as much as you used to, you love your early morning snuggles with him. Besides, it helps keep your mind off how much you’d like to snuggle Mando.

This silly crush on Mando has hit you out of nowhere and you feel like a complete fool for even acknowledging it. You suppose it can’t be helped to a certain extent, as he has to be hands down the nicest man in the entire galaxy, implausible as it may seem. He’s a gun-for-hire, rough and tough bounty hunter, covered in armor and weapons, and yet he has been nothing but thoughtful and respectful towards you. When you first spoke to him about establishing a better schedule for the child and working on some developmental milestones, he listened carefully and encouraged you to do what you felt was best. Other men you’ve known in the past would have questioned your recommendations or only half-listened to you dismissively. But Mando asked thoughtful questions that showed you he valued your opinions and then he was sure to comment on how well things were going after you began implementing the changes. You couldn’t remember the last time an employer gave you a compliment on your work, and it was just nice.

Then there was the first time he brought back a bounty to the ship. He’d been gone for about two days and when he returned, he was dragging a large alien man behind him. While you tried not to be overly curious, you couldn’t help but watch him as he manhandled the guy into the carbonite freezer. You were impressed with his strength, but it also made you feel a little bit wary as he next strode over towards you and the child. Your cautiousness melted away quickly though as Mando placed a bag of berries on the crate sitting next to you, mentioning that he noticed how much you seemed to enjoy them and thought you’d like to have some more. The thought of him noticing such a detail and then taking the time to stop and buy the berries for you made you want to swoon. You told yourself you were being ridiculous and that it was clearly just an overreaction to someone finally being nice to you.

The child is starting to get squirmy and you know that means he’ll be looking for breakfast soon. You listen carefully for Mando and realize that he must either be still asleep or up in the cockpit. Either way, you doubt he’s eaten any breakfast yet as he seems to prefer your cooking over his own. You toss back your covers and get yourself ready for the day. You decide to make eggs this morning, the little one’s favorite food that isn’t sugar-based. You are just finishing cutting up some fruit to go with the eggs, when you hear Mando’s boots behind you.

“MMM, smells good.” He says sounding still a bit sleepy. “I’m starving.”

You turn around with a plate all ready for him and a cup of caf, telling him “Lucky for you, I knew you would be.”

“Thank you, I don’t know how I survived without you,” Mando replies. Your heart sings at his words and you quickly turn back to the food so he can’t see the goofy smile breaking out on your face.

“Mostly on ration bars it seems.” You noticed he had quite the stash of them when you were first on board. Fortunately, you’ve convinced him to try to get a greater variety of food whenever possible.

“Well, my taste buds thank you too.” He carries his breakfast into his bunk where he can eat in privacy. At first, you felt sad for him always having to eat by himself, but you realize he must be so used to it that it probably doesn’t bother him. Nonetheless, it hasn’t stopped you from thinking up ideas for a shared meal sometime in the future, maybe when he knows you better and his trust in you is stronger.

After breakfast, you’re getting the child ready for a day out on the town. Mando is dropping off several bounties today which means you’ll be able to stretch your legs off the ship and visit the market in Batuu. As the ship lands, Mando is already back in the hull quickly reviewing all of the safety protocols for leaving the ship. He does this each time and at first it was rather annoying, it’s not like you’re an idiot, but then you realized he does it because he simply cares that much about the child’s and your wellbeing. While his protectiveness towards the child is completely logical, you still can’t get over how much it extends to you too. You’ve been responsible for yourself for so long; it never occurred to you that another adult would care so much about protecting you.

“Before I forget, I found a holster for you.” Mando is holding out a leather belt for you. “You shouldn’t keep the blaster in a bag; you can’t get to it fast enough.”

“Oh, thank you.” You say politely, although you’re hoping that just once he’ll fail to remind you to take the blaster along. You know he said you have to take it with you every time you leave the ship, but you still feel uncomfortable carrying it around. At least when you could shove it into your bag, you could pretend you didn’t have it, but now, it’ll be right there on your hip, much harder to ignore. Your fingers fumble with buckling the holster; knowing that he’s watching you intently makes you nervous. Mando steps closer to help you, softly brushing your hands away. Maker, he’s so close to you and each time his hands brush against your waist as he secures the holster you need to remind yourself to breathe.

“There you go.” Mando finishes but lets his hand linger for a moment on your hip. You feel his thumb brush back and forth just a bit before he sharply pulls away as if realizing what he was doing. You slip the blaster into the new holster, and he gives you a nod, “Looks good.”

You feel your face heat up as you realize he’s staring at your hips and you distract yourself by making sure the child is ready to go, “Ready to explore?” you ask him, and you hear a happy coo in response from the pram.

You follow Mando down the ramp of the ship, glad to be out in the fresh air and sunshine. Shopping for supplies never seemed like anything interesting in the past, but now that you get to visit different markets on new worlds you’ve never seen before, each little shopping trip feels like a new experience. The colorful stalls filled with all types of wares beckon you to explore and discover some exotic fruit or an old book that you might never see anywhere else.

Oh, speaking of books, “I thought I might try to find a few children’s books for the child, if that’s ok?” you ask Mando.

“Are you trying to teach him to read? Is he ready for that?” Mando sounds curious, but not skeptical in any way.

“No, not yet, but I know he likes hearing stories,” you explain, “and I’m not sure how much more I can keep inventing ones to tell him.”

“Have you just been making those stories up yourself?” He nods in approval, seemingly impressed. “You have a good imagination.”

“Oh, um, thank you.” You’re caught off guard there for a moment, as you hadn’t realized he’d paid much attention to the stories you tell the little one.

“Yeah, I liked the one you told him about the magic frog. It was funny.” He surprises you again. Not only was he listening, he remembers the silly story you made up, and he liked it.

“Thanks,” you say again, stunned by his comment, but it’s his next suggestion that totally floors you.

“You should write them down, make your own book.”

“Make my own book?” The idea would never have occurred to you.

“Why not? Maybe you can even get the kid to draw pictures for it. You can get him some coloring pencils too.” Mando turns and hands you some extra credits. “I need to take care of some business, now, but you two will be safe here. Meet me by the fountain in 30 minutes. Do not be late.” He punctuates that last statement with a point of his index finger and then turns to go.

You watch him head towards a cantina and then just stare down at the credits in your palm. How is he so nice but then also kind of scary? And why does it make you ‘feel’ things? You shake your head at your own silliness and then look down at the little guy and say, “Well, let’s go find you something to color with.”

Perusing the stalls, you find plenty of items to fill up your bags and empty your wallet. You discover a great notebook with plenty of space for writing and pictures. The more you think of the idea of creating your own little book with the child, the more excited you get. You find a few children’s books too, so that you can be sure to keep the little one entertained when he’s tired of drawing. Cognizant of the time, you start to head to the fountain in the center of the market, Mando’s designated meeting spot, when you smell a delectable aroma. The baby smells it too and immediately begins whining and reaching out his little hands. You head to the source of the scent to see several types of kebabs at a nearby stand. You still have some credits and are preparing to order but the little one is too impatient and before you know it, two kebabs are floating to the pram.

“Hey! You have to pay for those!” The man behind the stand yells at you.

“I was; I mean I am,” you quickly tell him, “I’m sorry, he’s just so sneaky and fast sometimes.” You offer him a smile, hoping to smooth things over. What’s more, you pray the man thinks the child just grabbed the food and that he didn’t notice anything magical about it. “How much are they?”

The man looks you over for a moment and then his demeanor changes, “Well, for you, mama, I’m sure we can work out a little deal.” He leers at you.

“That’s ok,” you say uncomfortable at the look in his eye, and you let your smile drop from your face, “I’ll just pay the regular price.”

“Ah, c’mon, there’s nothing like a little discount among friends.” He steps out from behind his stall to stand right in front of you. He reaches out and brushes a hand down your arm, “You’d like to be my friend, wouldn’t you?”

You take a step back and say, “I’d just like to pay you for the food.”

“We can call it even, if you give me a little kiss.” This gross creep moves closer to you again, this time leaning down.

“I have credits.” You tell him, attempting to sound firm while you start to step back again, but he anticipates your move and reaches out to grab your wrist pulling you up against his body. You push on his chest, trying to pull away when you hear the sound of a blaster priming and then a raspy modulated voice says, “Let her go.”

The man drops your arm instantly and you can finally back away from him. You’re very grateful to see Mando with his weapon pointed directly at the man’s head. The man holds his hands up, “We were just having a friendly little chat.”

“Didn’t look friendly to me.” Mando deadpans, but he holsters his blaster now that it’s clear you’re safe. He comes over to you, placing a hand on the small of your back and turns you to walk away with him.

“Hey! She still needs to pay me for the food,” the man protests.

“What did he want for the food?” Mando asks you.

“A kiss,” you reply sardonically.

Mando shrugs, then turns back to the stall, approaches the man quickly and then just head-butts him hard with his helmet. The creep lets out a loud yell of pain and collapses to the ground.

“There you go, a kiss from a Mandalorian.” Mando drawls, before turning and striding back over to you.

Oh damn! That was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen and you feel your body flood with desire. Ok, so maybe that was a blatant show of male posturing, and as an educated, modern woman, you probably shouldn’t be so aroused right now. But some primeval part of your brain has taken over, and the only thought you have is how great a protector Mando is and how much you want him to protect you. You can’t even say anything to him right now because you’re just replaying the moment over in your head. It isn’t until you realize that Mando is saying your name, repeating it, that you finally snap back to reality and remember to thank him.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Mando is saying, “Are you ok?” He asks you slowly to make sure you’ve understood him. It’s possible he’s already asked you that but you were too swept up in your cavewoman thoughts.

“Oh, yes, yes, I’m fine,” you reassure him, “That creep just made me uncomfortable, but he didn’t hurt me. But, thank you again.”

“You’re sure?” Mando asks, a bit doubtful. What are you supposed to tell him? That your dazed look is because you’re turned on by him right now. Super inappropriate, having a major crush on your boss! You take a deep breath and remind yourself yet again that Mando is your employer.

“Really, I’m fine, thank you.” You’re pleased that you managed to get that out in a normal sounding voice. Mando considers you for a moment.

“Why didn’t you pull your blaster on him?” He wants to know.

“I don’t know,” you tell him truthfully, “I guess I’m just not used to reacting that way.”

“Hmm, we’ll need to work on that.” He seems satisfied at that and starts walking back towards the Crest. You force your feet to follow him, telling yourself to pull it together.

“Is that really considered a kiss from a Mandalorian?” You can’t help your stupid mouth from blurting out your question.

He laughs, surprising you because it’s the first time you’ve heard it. “Technically, yes, we call it a Keldabe Kiss.” He chuckles again and then says, “But there is a much softer version too between lovers.”

Ok, you almost become a puddle hearing him say the word ‘lovers’, and thankfully he’s still amused by your question that he doesn’t seem to notice your mouth dropping open and your feet stumbling a little. Instead, all he says is “Let’s get back to the ship, kid’s got the right idea, I could use something to eat.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later, Mando powers up the engines and you figure you’re off to the next planet, but instead he keeps the ship in the atmosphere, taking you away from the town. He lands in a clearing near a forest, and says, “This will be a good spot to practice.”

“Practice?” You’re confused.

“Yeah, I told you we’re going to work on your reaction to threats.” He says this in a matter-of-fact voice, “Plus, I know you said you could shoot, but I want to see how you handle that blaster.”

Sighing internally, you put the holster back on and collect the blaster from the weapons locker before following him down the ramp. The baby toddles down the ramp too, curious to see what’s happening.

“Alright, Miss Top-Marks-in-Shooting, let’s see you hit that tree.” Mando’s tone is rather chipper as he points out a large tree directly across from where you’re both standing. It’s a very easy target; he must think you exaggerated your skills.

You draw the weapon smoothly and shoot, just as you were trained to do, hitting the tree with ease. You fire four shoots in a small cluster pattern, to show that you are capable of accuracy.

Mando nods his head once, “Ok, now hit those five trees in rapid succession.” He points to a line of smaller trees further away to your left. You turn and successfully hit all five in what you consider to be a decent pace.

“Not bad, but see if you can go faster.” He instructs you. You try again, hopefully quicker this time. He nods when you look back at him and then points out a new target. You both keep repeating this pattern and he offers some critiques as you shoot, but generally, he seems satisfied.

“You did well,” Mando tells you after a bit, “You ever hit a moving target?”

“Uh, no.” You look at him cautiously, wondering what he has in mind. Your eyes must show how anxious that makes you, because he says, “We’ll work on that another time.”

You can’t help but let out a small sigh of relief. You figure practice time must be over for now, but then he says, “Let’s work on that reaction time for when someone is in your face. Just let me tell the kid first.”

Mando walks over to the little one who has been sitting on the ramp watching you shoot. “Ok, kiddo, this is just pretend. You understand? No one will get hurt, so no powers, ok?” The baby coos up at him and Mando nods.

“Gotta make sure he doesn’t try to fling one of us into a tree.” He says to your bemused expression. Mando returns to face you and steps close until he’s practically touching you. Your heartrate immediately picks up and your body starts to feel hot.

“I want you to draw your weapon on me, but do not shoot me,” he says definitively.

“What? No, I can’t do that, Mando,” you tell him in protest.

He reaches out lightning fast, grabs your wrist, and hauls you up against him in a similar manner to the jerk in the marketplace. Your positioning might be the same, yet this time you don’t feel creeped out, no, instead you like it, your traitorous body even pushes you a little closer to him.

“Draw your weapon on me. I’m a threat to you.” Mando tells you in a gravelly voice. Stars above! You have to bite your lip hard to keep from moaning. What is wrong with me? You realize he’s not going to let you go until you draw the blaster and so you finally comply with his order.

Mando releases you with small chuckle, as he says, “Ok, let’s try that again only not in slow motion.”

“Wait, wait, I’m not ready.” You’re panting like you just ran a race.

“That’s the whole point,” he replies, “Threats don’t just wait until you’re ready to shoot them.” You could swear he’s smirking at you under that helmet.

“No, I mean, give me a second to imagine I’m being threatened,” you are trying to buy yourself time before he decides to touch you again. “I need to visualize it.”

“Are you saying I’m not threatening enough?” Mando sounds skeptical and maybe a little insulted.

“No, I mean, of course, you are, you’re very threatening and wanted men everywhere should fear you, but I don’t fear you because I know you’ll never hurt me,” you explain to him in attempt to cover up the fact that you’re so damn attracted to him right now.

“You’re right; I would never do anything to hurt you.” He nods in agreement. “But wanted men everywhere should fear me, huh?” He sounds amused by that.

“Yes, yes, you’re very scary.” You tell him, rolling your eyes slightly.

“Ok, so pretend I’m someone you do fear.” He advances toward you. This time you think of Lieutenant Sauckel, an odious man from Imperial Intelligence that you despised. When Mando grabs you again, you imagine Sauckel’s black eyes and yellow teeth and draw your blaster as Mando pulls you to his chest.

“That was better, but still too slow.” He makes you try over and over, and each time you picture another terrible Imperial officer, Commander Brack, Major Frick, Junior Lieutenant Hess, and then finally Ensign Kerrick Hoven, the man who broke your heart and betrayed you. Imagining Kerrick’s smug face appears to do the trick, because it’s the fastest you’ve drawn the blaster yet, and you manage to wrench your arm away from Mando for the first time.

“Good!” Mando praises you enthusiastically, “That was really good.”

“Thanks.” You’re pleased to hear his words of encouragement, but your voice doesn’t show it. Picturing Kerrick again is enough to send you into darker emotions and you feel anger and sadness swirl in your stomach. Your face must give away your unhappy thoughts, because Mando suggests you stop for the day.

You stow your blaster in the holster and then head over to the child who’s been thoroughly entertained watching you both pretend fight. You reach down to pick him up and hold him close to your chest in a hug. There’s just something about his sweet little presence that makes you feel better. You’re smiling again when you pull away and head back into the ship. Mando follows you up the ramp and he’s quiet but you can feel him watching you as you stow the blaster in the weapons locker and remove the holster from your waist.

“Everything alright?” He asks you.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. I-, Thank you for taking the time to work with me on that. To practice, I mean. I know you’re very busy.” It really does mean a lot to you that he took time out of his schedule for you and you feel your heart swell as you think about his protective nature.

“You’re welcome,” he says, his voice a little softer, “Your safety is important to me. Plus, you need to be able to help keep the child safe too.”

“Yes, of course,” you nod in agreement.

“It’s helpful that you’re a good shot.” He praises you again, and this time you smile at his words.

“Thank you,” you reply sincerely. While you haven’t seen him shoot, you know he’s clearly an expert and it really does mean a lot to hear him praise your skill.

You turn back to the child, “I think it’s playtime now, what do you say, buddy?” He chirps in agreement and you head over to his small stash of toys and place him on the floor so he can start pulling out his favorites. Before you clamber down to join him, you feel Mando’s hand cup your arm just above the elbow. You turn back towards him with an inquisitive look. He just seems to stare at you for a moment, still holding your arm before telling you, “I’ll going to get us on our way to the next planet.”

“Ok, we’ll be alright down here. I’ll bring you up some dinner later.” You give him another smile and a quick nod.

“Good,” is all that he says and then he gives your arm a little squeeze before heading to the cockpit and you can’t help but feel a little fluttering in your stomach at that touch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of your afternoon passes swiftly as you and the child take his plushies on a heroic quest across the metal wonderland (the hull) to the black cliffs of mystery (a stack of crates) where you must find the golden treasure (a box of cookies). It’s a much more enjoyable game of pretend seeing as you’re not imagining Imps threatening you. It puts you in a cheerful mood and you’re still grinning to yourself when you bring Mando his dinner tray. You feel a pang of regret for him that he’s missed out on the fun afternoon with you and the child and it’s compounded by the thought of him eating his dinner alone too.

“Mando?”

“Yeah?”

You want to ask if there’s any way you could keep him company while he eats, promising to face away from him the entire time, but it feels too pushy to ask him for that. Besides, you’re probably just projecting your own feelings onto him. He’s likely much more comfortable knowing that you and the child are safely shut away from him downstairs and there’s no way he can break his creed while he eats. So, you just tell him, “I hope you enjoy your food.”

When you head back downstairs, you’re mentally kicking yourself for getting too attached. Your job is to take care of the child and make sure his needs are met. It’s nice of you to take care of Mando a little too, but he doesn’t need you to keep him company or worry about him being lonely. I’m being pathetic. You turn your attention back to your little green charge and decide it’s time to give him a bath and get him ready for bed. Still though as much as you try, you can’t stop your thoughts from wondering back to Mando. It’s hard to forget what it felt like pulled up against his chest while you were practicing your self-defense. And you may have replayed the whole head-butt scene in your head a dozen times. Stars! Am I really so desperate that I’m falling for the first man who’s nice to me? You try again to push images of Mando out of your head and focus on the baby. It works until he’s sound asleep in his little hammock and you don’t have a distraction any more. Maybe you can just grab your holopad and read up in the cockpit. That way you can satisfy your need to be close to Mando but also keep from bothering him. You make your way up the ladder, making sure it’s ok to enter the cockpit in case he still has the helmet off, before flopping down in the passenger seat on Mando’s right. You sit there and fiddle with the holopad trying to find a story that will entice you enough to keep your eyes on it, instead of tossing glances at the armored man sitting next to you. Turns out it doesn’t matter though because Mando feels like chatting.

“Kid get to sleep ok?” he asks you.

“Yes, he was pretty sleepy after his bath,” you reply.

“Probably tired after that epic adventure you went on too,” he huffs out a laugh, “I heard you doing all the voices for the toys.”

“Oh, yeah,” you’re a little embarrassed by that as you know you can be pretty goofy when you’re pretending with the child, “He really seems to like it though.”

“Sure he does, I could hear him giggling too.” Mando confirms for you. “I’m glad he’s having this time to be a child. I don’t know much about his past, but I don’t think he’s had a lot of fun in his life.”

“Well, I’ll try to make sure he does something fun every day.” You already love the little one so much, anything you can do to make him happy brings you joy too.

“Who were you picturing when we were practicing your reaction time?” Mando changes the subject abruptly.

You take a moment to process his question, and then tell him, “Just some Imperial officers from my past.” You shrug, “I figured that would be good motivation to draw a blaster.”

He seems to consider you for a moment, and then asks, “What about the last time? Who was that?”

“Oh,” you try to let out a little laugh to ease the discomfort welling up in you, “That was the man who broke my heart.”

“An Imperial officer?” Mando sounds surprised at that.

“He wasn’t an Imperial officer when I first knew him. He was in the graduating class before mine. We dated when we were in school together and we stayed in contact after he graduated. He’s the one who convinced me to do the exams for the ‘research group’.” You make quotation marks with your hands when you say those last two words.

“He mislead you?” Mando asks.

“No, he didn’t know what it really was then either. He had only just heard about it and was trying to get a job there and convinced me that it would be great for the two of us to work together.” You pause there not sure if you really want to keep telling Mando this story.

He’s curious though, as he asks, “What happened when you both found out you were working for Imp Intelligence?”

“We were both shocked and we turned to each other for comfort. It was intense, because I still had old feelings for him, and at the time, I believed he was the only one who understood how I had been deceived because he was right there with me. For a while, it felt tragically romantic, like we were two people clinging to each other in the midst of a terrible situation.”

“So, how did he break your heart?” Mando questions softly.

“I didn’t realize how one-sided our love affair had become. I thought he shared my horror for the Empire and their actions, but little did I know, he was buying into the Empire’s message more each day. As I was trying to disrupt the intelligence, Kerrick was weaseling his way closer to the officers, trying to spend time with them or impress them with his work. They awarded him the rank of Ensign when he turned me in for sabotage.” You can’t help the tear that manages to sneak out and slide down your cheek. You look out to the stars as they swirl by you in hyperspace.

“What was his name? His full name?” Mando asks.

“Kerrick Hoven, why?”

He ignores the question and asks, “Is he still alive?”

“As far as I know, yes.” You’re not sure why that matters to him.

Mando just makes a little hmm noise and then says, “No wonder you drew your blaster so quickly.”

“Well, that’s my sad story of heartbreak. How about you, Mando? You have a heartbreak story of your own?” Now that you’ve bared your sad past to him, you’re curious to hear about his.

“No.” Is all that he says.

“No? Nothing?” You push back a little; he must have something to share.

“Not really. Never get too attached or involved with a woman.” He punctuates this with a shrug.

“What about when you were a bit younger? No love affairs?” You can’t stop yourself from being curious about his romantic past; you just want to know a little something about it.

“I’ve had lovers, but nothing long-term or serious.” he states, “Relationships don’t really go with being a bounty hunter.” He sounds rather blasé about his love life or lack of one, as if he doesn’t spend any time thinking about it at all.

You feel your heart drop at that and all of your fantasies about the two of you being together someday seem exceedingly ridiculous right now. Of course he isn’t a man who gets into relationships, and if you became his lover, it would probably be a short-lived fling that would burn itself out once the novelty of new passion was gone. You feel foolish and tired. The fun of hearing about Mando’s love life has dissipated completely for you. So you change the topic and ask, “Where are we headed to next?”

“Bespin” Mando says. “It’s a mining planet with a city high up in the clouds in the upper atmosphere.”

You listen politely as he tells you some other facts about the planet. It sounds interesting enough, but you’re not really paying that close attention as you’re still somewhat wrapped up in your emotional reaction to his dismissal of relationships. You take a deep breath to center your thoughts and then focus in on his words, telling yourself that this is for the best, that you need to let your stupid crush die and just do your job. If you can’t do that, you’ll just set yourself up for another heartbreak, and what will that get you?

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

Thank you for reading! Link to Chapter 3, Lust Actually. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters.

Tag list: @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11​ @theravenreads​ @nicotinebirds​ @boomtownboy​ @nova646 @sleepwithacommunist @mackycat11 @som3thingcr3ative

[hellotvshowtrash]

Say You Love Me

Request from @perriexlover​:  Okay so since I'm a sucker for Elijah, can you write a fluffy smut¿?; like where it's reader' first time and she's super nervous cause she's never been in a relationship before and she doesn't want to let him down. And maybe it's their first anniversary? [sorry if it's a mess] thank you, love ❤️

A/N: First of all, this is such a sweet prompt. I hope you enjoy this, i kind of took some liberty with the request, so it might not be exactly what you wanted and it’s not super smutty but like it’s fluffy smut so. I very much enjoy sweet Elijah and yeah i kinda just wanna go on a date w him!

Warnings: fluffy smut, first time sex, unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP MY DUDES) 

Word count: 2.6k

Elijah x female!reader

A hum escaped her lips as his fingers danced over her skin, gently leaving a trail of goosebumps where he touched her. Elijah kissed her, on her lips, her chin, her neck, her ear, everywhere she needed him. Her vision came in flashes as she opened her eyes in surprise and closed them again in pleasure. Her hand gripped the sheets beneath her, the other tangling in his dark hair.

Her eyes opened slowly as she exhaled another soft moan. Slowly waking, she realized she had been dreaming, one of the more intense dreams she had been having as of late. She blinked slowly, awkwardly becoming aware of her boyfriend watching her from his position in the bed next to her. His head was rested in his hand, propped up as he laid on his side looking at her. A small, amused smile danced on his lips. She grinned embarrassedly, her hands coming up to her face and covering her blushed cheeks as she laughed at herself.

"Good morning, beautiful," he smiled at her.

"Good morning," she giggled. She peeked at him through her fingers. He chuckled and grabbed one of her hands and kissed it. Elijah had been nothing but a gentleman this past year. He made sure she was comfortable with everything, and they took the relationship at her pace. Lately, she'd had her mindset on their one year anniversary being their first time together. They had slept together - however, it was in the same bed and fully clothed whenever he stayed the night with her. Tonight she decided that she wanted him to know that she wanted to be with him. The thought of being with Elijah in her entirety made her heart flutter. He smiled at her again.

"Are you ready for tonight?" He asked her quietly. He hadn't known what she'd been planning, except for the obvious dreams she'd been having. He had to have had some idea at this point. He was planning something entirely different, and she wasn't allowed to know until that night. She huffed playfully at him.

"I wish you'd just tell me what you're planning," she winked, but she enjoyed being surprised and she knew he enjoyed spoiling her.

He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in close. "You will find out, darling, but for now," he nuzzled into her hair, "let's just stay like this," he whispered into her neck and sent shivers up her spine.

—

Elijah spent the day doting on her, taking care of every need and want as they came, starting with making her favourite breakfast, followed by spending the day shopping for anything she could possibly want. Every time she looked at him, his eyes were on her, following her movements and making her blush.

"You're staring," She commented finally while she was looking through a rack of shirts in a nearby boutique.

He chuckled in response. "How could I not?" He moved toward her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind her, "You're just so beautiful. I'm so lucky," He moved his lips to her ear and she blushed again.

She turned around in his arms and placed hers around his neck. "I'm the lucky one. I love nothing more than spending time with you," She lifted herself onto her tip-toes and placed a small kiss on his lips. She used the "L" word but not in the context he was hoping for. Even after a year, that had some very important firsts to get to. He grinned at her and kissed her again.

"Let's go home. I want you to see what I've planned," He pulled away and grabbed her hand.

"Ahh, so shopping was a distraction?" Y/N smiled as she was pulled along.

"Not entirely," He stopped abruptly in front of the sleepwear clothing section. "Pick a pair of pajamas." He gestured to the section and she looked at him, surprised.

"Pajamas?" She stepped forward and reached for a soft pair of bottoms. "Will you be getting some as well?" She asked him.

"I've already got a pair." He smiled. Y/N lifted her eyebrows again and smiled. She browsed and chose a light pink silk pair, small shorts and a tight tank top. "Not what I had in mind, but definitely welcome," he winked at her. Her outfit was a subtle hint to him that she too was planning some things.

They returned to Y/N's small apartment, which had mostly become their shared apartment without officially deciding they lived together. Y/N was stunned to see candles lit and dainty lights were strewn about, perfectly lighting the blanket and pillow covered mattress that took up the living room floor. Blankets hung from the ceiling, creating a perfectly adult-sized fort. The lights twinkled in her eyes as she gently gasped, the smell of pizza filling her nose and she eyed the pizza box at the edge of the bed. She turned to him and grinned.

"How did you pull this off?" She asked him, breathlessly. He grinned back at her and ushered her farther into the apartment, closing the door behind them.

"I wanted our first anniversary to be a celebration of us, just between us." He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her gently. "Now go change and get comfy and I'll get the movie in."

She hummed and chuckled excitedly, "what movie are we watching?"

"I'm going to make you guess." He spun her in the direction of her bedroom and patted her butt to make her walk. She gasped and laughed at him, rolling her eyes as she made her way to the bedroom. Elijah hurried to the bathroom to change into his own pajamas, a pair of grey sweats and a white t-shirt fitted snug against his muscular figure. He exited the bathroom and got the movie prepared in the DVD player. He sat back against the pillows and blankets on the bed and waited.

Y/N exited her bedroom shyly, her confidence waning after she put on the pajamas. She was scared this was too soon, or maybe he didn't want to see her like this. She tucked her hair behind her ear as she closed the door behind her and turned to face him. She shuffled her feet anxiously as Elijah caught sight of her. His breath left his lips as he took in the sight of her, the silk pajamas flowing over her body gently, parts of her he had dreamt of seeing. She blushed and looked at the floor.

"Is it too much?" She asked quietly. He shook his head, slowly at first and then vigorously.

"Not at all. You're stunning," he complimented. He realized suddenly his sweats were getting dangerously tight, and he grabbed a blanket to conceal himself. He gestured her over and grinned at her. She really was beautiful. "I'm so lucky to be with you," he whispered as she laid down next to him. She blushed again, and got comfy at his side, legs slightly parted. She nuzzled into him, grabbing his arm and snuggling it, placing his hand on the inside of her thigh. Her breath hitched and she tried to play it off like it was nothing, but he squeezed her thigh and she hummed happily. She looked up at him and reached her hand behind his neck, pulling him into a kiss. He obliged, kissing her softly. She tugged on his hair, indicating she didn't want gentleness. He pulled away slightly.

"Y/N, I..." she shushed him as she kissed him again, more hunger built in her. He kissed her back, maintaining a gentle edge but desperation started to fill him. "Is this what you want?" He managed to whisper between kisses. She nodded quickly, grabbing his hand and moving it up her thigh, over her new silken pajamas. He took to control of his hand and gently circled just above her clit, hard enough that she could feel it but soft enough to leave her wanting more. She moaned into their kiss. That was all it took for Elijah. Her moans drove him crazy. He flipped suddenly, moving to put himself on top of her, his hand still working her over her shorts. She squealed as he moved, but slid her hands from his neck to his shoulders and over his chest.

She pulled away slightly and let her head fall back on the pillow. She locked eye with him and felt herself blush and her confidence falter. "Elijah, I... you should know," he stopped the motion with his fingers and pulled away immediately, worried he had gone too far. He sat back on the bed in front of her, not touching her. "No, it's nothing.. bad. That was nice, but you should know.. I've never done this before." She blushed and looked down, realizing how vulnerable she was. He raised an eyebrow.

"With anyone- ever?" He asked quietly. She nodded.

"I've been waiting for the right person," she said sheepishly. Elijah's heart nearly burst in his chest. A fool's grin slapped itself on his face.

"Y/N. I need to tell you something." He leaned on his knees closer to her again, moving in between her splayed out legs. Her eyes never left his as his face came inches from hers, his breath just reaching her lips. "I love you," he whispered. His eyes flickered from hers to her lips as a small smile spread across her face.

"You do?" She asked.

"I do," he answered.

"I love you, too," she whispered, "I want you to know how much I love you," She kissed him, trying to convey her desire, her passion, her love for him, but the kiss wouldn't suffice.

She moved her hands to lift her tank top above her head, her hair moving wildly about as she undressed. He paused their kiss, moving away to take in the parts of her body he had never seen before. He had waited a long time for this and it was more worth it than he could have possibly imagined it. He moved to cup his hand over her soft breast, rubbing her nipple between his fingers. She let out a soft gasp turned moan, a feeling she hadn't experienced coursing through her. Obviously, she had touched herself before, but this was different. Her head fell back on the pillows behind her. Both of his hands were on her body now, moving around her breasts, her chest, moving down to her waist. He tugged lightly at her shorts and she lifted her hips, letting him pull them off. He took a moment to drink her in, her entire body was gorgeous and he wanted to worship her. He pushed her legs open wider, her wet folds opening as he did so. He licked his lips and his eyes met hers.

"I want you to only look at me, okay? he commanded. She nodded and watched as he lowered himself onto his stomach, laying down flat with his head between her legs. Her eyes never left his as he kissed around her thighs and her labia. She gasped at the contact, her breathing labored already. His tongue licked at the sides of her opening, not quite making the contact she so desperately wanted.

"You're a tease," she gasped. He grinned wickedly, then gave her exactly what she wanted. He licked and sucked at her clit, making her head fall back again and a moan escaped her lips. His tongue explored her fully, entering her slightly and making her moans escalate. He worked her with his mouth, his eyes not leaving her face. Her moans were exactly what he wanted to hear. He picked up his pace and moved a hand up to her breast, squeezing gently. Her hand flew to his head, grasping his hair tightly as her hips bucked slightly. "Elijah," she moaned loudly. She was getting too close, and he wanted her first time to be worth remembering. He pulled away and she whimpered lightly.

"Darling, you taste divine. I want to feel you, now." He said to her. She squeaked at his commanding, lust-filled voice. He stood from the bed and began to undress. Y/N began to feel self-conscious and began to close her legs, but he stopped her. "I want to keep looking at you. You're breathtaking." She blushed and left her legs spread for him. He took her in as he took his shirt off. He began to pull down his sweats and underwear, his cock springing out of the confines. She gasped at how large he was.

"This isn't going to hurt, is it?" She whispered. He chuckled.

"If you experience any discomfort whatsoever, you tell me immediately and we'll stop." He said. She nodded as he made his way back onto the bed over her. He positioned himself just in front of her entrance, the heat emanating off her. He began to kiss her neck and chin. "I want you to enjoy this. If you want something, don't be afraid to tell me," he whispered to her. She nodded again and he began to enter her, slowly and in increments so she had time to adjust to him. She let out a low moan as he filled her, her eyes closing and her face relaxing. He moved himself in entirely and paused, waiting for her okay. She took a deep breath and nodded. He began to move slowly, thrusting in and out of her. She gasped as he picked up speed, creating a steady rhythm between them. Her hips moved naturally to meet his thrusts. Her moans came more frequently as he moved, his name leaving her lips breathlessly. It would be his undoing if he wasn't careful. He paced himself and kissed at her neck and chin, his hand moving to cup her breast again, something she seemed to enjoy very much. He slowed his pace and lowered herself down onto his elbows, his face inches from hers. He watched her intently, his eyes noting the different reactions to his movements. He dipped his head and kissed her, gently and tenderly. She moaned into his lips, then hooked her arms behind his neck and deepened their kiss, not letting him go.

"Faster, Elijah," she begged. He raised his eyebrows, but obliged, his arms still creating a cage around her head as he thrust into her faster now, the sound of skin on skin mixed with her moans filling the room. He grunted hungrily, quickly becoming unable to control himself. He kept speeding up, losing himself in her. "Elijah, I think I'm-," she began to speak but the tension she felt in the pit of her stomach snapped. A gasp took over followed by his name in long drawn out moans.  Hearing his name spill from her lips like that drove him over the edge and he stilled inside of her, letting his orgasm take over. His head snapped back and he groaned as he came, filling her. He pulled in and out a few more times as they both came down, unwinding from their highs. She panted heavily and a grin broke out over her face.

"Happy anniversary, baby," he pulled out of her and kissed her before flopping onto the bed next to her.

"You love me. Say you love me again, please," she said, her grin still covering her face.

"I do love you," he smiled back at her, taking her hand in his and kissing it.

She bit her lip and closed her eyes in content, "I love you, too. Can we do that again?"

-

Taglist: @elijahs-wife @soul-revoir @akshi8278 @njeancastro316 @dumble-daddy @nikmikaelsonswife

[stitch1830]

I've been struck by an angst lightning: what about Lin and Su Yin being raised by their grandparents after Toph dies?? *hides away*

Hi Anon, thank you for the ask, and your patience! And :O ANGST?? 0-0 The sadness…

But I’m a bit of a sucker for angst, so I’m happy to oblige.

In the event that Toph passes away and her children have to be raised by Lao and Poppy… I feel like the dynamic would be quite interesting.

Lao and Poppy are probably devastated that they lost their daughter, but they’re also grateful that they have Lin and Suyin, because they see so much of their daughter in them. Lin and Suyin, on the other hand, are beside themselves because their Mama, their favorite person in the world, is gon. They feel really, really lonely now. Their grandparents are really nice people, especially to them, but they aren't Mama.

And how Lao and Poppy treat the girls after Toph is gone is different from how they treated the girls when Toph was around. They revert to this overprotective state that makes them feel like the girls shouldn't do anything dangerous, and they hesitate to have them run off and play or go to school or anything. Their worst fear came true, and even though Toph was an adult when she died, the sting is still there.

Lin probably suffers more than Suyin from losing Toph because she's older and she remembers more. Toph and Lin had a really close bond prior to Suyin, so she has more memories to pull from of Toph being there for her.

Suyin remembers mainly the idea of her mother, and she probably resents the fact that she lost her before she really knew her. I can see her starting her rebellious phase sooner than she did in LOK, and this time, she mainly lashes out at her grandparents. She doesn't yell at Lin really, because Lin is actually the only one that understands what she's feeling. Losing their mother might actually bring the girls closer together, if anything.

It's not all bad, though. The Gaang still visits and they enjoy spending time with that side of the "family," and I think that while Lao and Poppy keep a close eye on the girls, they know what happens if they hold back the girls from experiencing life. Toph's girls are basically carbon copies of her, so the second they feel too trapped, they threaten to (and sometimes do) run away.

If Toph reconciled with her parents prior to having her kids, then I think it would be a nice bonding moment for Lao, Poppy, and the girls for Lao and Poppy to talk about Toph. The things she did when she was young, the adventures she went on as a teenager, and all her accomplishments in her short life. They also remember some silly stories that no one else knows, and they're happy to share those memories with Lin and Suyin.

But the Beifong's lives are forever changed when Toph dies. They didn't realize it until she was gone, but Toph was the glue for the family. She rebuilt her relationship with her parents, and she created a great foundation for her girls and raised them well for as long as she could. And now that she's gone, there's a piece of them that's missing. A Toph-shaped size hole in their hearts that will never properly be refilled, and that fact alone pains them all.

There's not a day that goes by that the Beifong's don't miss Toph, that's for sure.

AGH okay I hope you found the angst suitable! Feel free to send in more asks if you find yourself struck by angst lightning again :)

Thank you again for the ask, Anon, and I hope you have a great day!

......

Send me asks about ATLA, or anything, really! :D

[tanadrin]

Of the Moon and her myriad nations

[Earth's Moon], though naturally quite barren, was for centuries an attractive prospect for explorers, colonizers, would-be rebels, and utopians of various stripes. Unlike the other bodies of the Solar System, it can be reached with even simple rockets in just a few days, its gravity is low enough to make export-oriented industries feasible, and, perhaps most importantly, it has a psychological connection to Earth found nowhere else in outer space. The rest of the Universe is beyond that first celestial sphere, beyond the gravitation influence of our home, where the Earth is reduced to a dot in the sky, or entirely invisible. But on the near side of the Moon, the home of your species hangs in the sky, resplendent and cloud-marbled in the darkness, only a glance away--as the Moon in turn has hung, with its pale and shining face, in the skies of Earth since the beginning.

Although several scientific outposts and a handful of desultory attempts at industrial projects dotted the lunar surface at the start of the Second Space Race, settlement of the Moon did not begin in earnest until novel propulsion technologies put most of the Inner Solar System within easy reach, and asteroid-based mining and manufacturing began in high Earth orbit. For processes that required more than microgravity, the Moon was a more attractive production site than Earth, with its low escape velocity and lack of atmosphere. Helium-3 could be found there in relative abundance, along with water, and although the base materials had to be imported from Earth, hydroponically grown and synthetically manufactured foodstuffs could be more easily exported than they could from the Earth's surface. Because of its close proximity to Earth, the Moon was initially dominated by terrestrial political structures: tellurian corporations and states, and a handful of orbital and Moon-based organizations with close ties to them. The rest of the Solar System was too distant to either rely upon Earth or to be drawn into its political sphere of influence, once the colonists their achieved self-sufficiency. Should disaster befall them, Earth could be of no help, so what was the use of trying to stay forever in her good graces? Not so, on the Moon.

Nowadays, of course, things are quite different. Between Tranquility Base and Maskelyne Anchorage, one may cross through a dozen major or minor sovereign polities, free estates, or discrete political condominiums. Lunar politics, and consequently lunar law, is a tangle of overlapping jurisdictions, most with some form of sovereign right or privilege, that resembles nothing so much as the ancient Holy Roman Empire, or perhaps India in the wake of the Mughal Empire's collapse. None of these statelets are dependent on Earthbound sovereignties, and indeed they are nothing if not a little scornful of their decadent neighbors, with their wide seas and rich atmosphere. They are resentful of outside meddling, to the point that the surest way to end any dispute on the Moon is to barge in as an offworlder with your own opinion--for then every single party to the argument will turn as one against you. And this is as true in a game of cards over drinks as it is in international relations.

The transition from a shared fiefdom of Earth to world of truculent, free-spirited micronations was occasioned by early experiments in lunar law that at the time seemed quite unimportant. While for the most part, Earth law was imported whole during the initial settlement of the Moon, in keeping with the notion of that body being the common heritage of mankind and no state or corporation having truly sovereign jurisdiction over any part of it (as opposed to temporary usufruct rights), several pan-lunar and pan-orbital coordinating bodies were set up under the auspices of the United Nations. As individual factions relentlessly pursued their own interests, these bodies were mostly hobbled and reduced to symbolic status, but the coordinating body on personal and property disputes, the Private Law Board, operated primarily below the level of interest of the sovereigns, and managed to exercise a free hand rather effectively. Early on in lunar history, it gave legal protection to a new kind of domestic institution arising in the tunnels and domes, the extended polycule. Polyamorous relationships and family arrangements were not then new: they were common in several Earth cultures of the era, but they existed in parallel to, or entirely outside, the legal institution of binary marriage. Rather than try to adopt that system to a larger group of persons, where sexual, romantic, and childrearing relationships were not automatically commutative throughout the entire group (but could be), the Private Law Board created the Shared House as an adjunct to it.

If you are not familiar with it, a Shared House may be described thus: it is a formal relationship and contract, much like binary marriage, in which the members of the House are considered close kin, whatever their genetic or historic relationship. The only closer degree of relationship is created by marriage, which may occur within or outside a Shared House, but only between two individuals. If a person dies intestate, their personal property devolves, in the absence of a married partner, to the House, where it may be divided or disposed of as its members see fit. Houses may have their own rules or agreements within themselves, as in any domestic relationship, though these rules cannot overcome or extinguish legal rights and obligations. In the interest of protecting their rights, children are automatically members of the House into which they are born, and on the age of majority have equal status with their parents and the other adults of the House. Marriage between children of the same House is theoretically possible, but extremely rare, with children of a House overwhelmingly preferring partners from outside the community (the so-called 'kibbutz problem,' though on the Moon it is considered largely beneficial). Marriage with close genetic kin is still impossible.

Two or more people of no house, or of separate houses, may together establish a new Shared House. Two may marry, creating a kinship relation outside the House; in some quarters this is viewed unfavorably, undermining the interests of the House, while in others it is seen as neutral or even beneficial. A person who wishes to commit to a partner of another House may also opt to join that House, and this is the most common form of family-building on the Moon.

The fact that Shared Houses possessed legal personalities of potentially unlimited duration was initially regarded as an oversight on the part of the Private Law Board. For the first few generations of colonists who formed such Houses, they often lasted no more than ten or fifteen years, dissolving de jure or de facto into groups of binary marriages, or small triads. Over time, however, as the amount of wealth on the Moon grew, and individual property holdings with them, the economic benefit of the Shared House became obvious. Marriages had long been considered by some as a "welfare state of two," a legal institution that provided stability not only through the usual human desire to share and flourish with one's spouse, but from state sponsorship, intended to promote family life. The Shared House was a welfare state of many; and through cunning investment, political connections, and sometimes a generous portion of luck, some Houses became very well-off indeed.

It was a quirk of lunar law that, while corporations and states could not exclusively possess land or resources of the Moon permanently, persons could: the Outer Space Treaty, even as revised and expanded over the course of numerous annexes and amendments, was intended to forestall competition between states, not private persons. Political agitation by the colonists and a desire to ensure the profitability of lunar development led the states of Earth to strengthen private property rights on the Moon further, with the result that eventually the Houses had more rights to the land they controlled that any sovereign state. And they were better at it: like a tight-knit religious community, or an extended family of bankers, close ties between members of a Shared House, even if indirect, created Moon-spanning trust networks that could operate with much less overhead than any Earth firm, and the Houses displaced them in a few decades. One hundred and fifty years after Tranquility Base was re-founded, the Shared Houses reigned supreme.

I have elided many details, of course. Many Houses continued to have only loose personality; the overwhelming majority had no property to speak of, and there was (and still is) a real risk of a kind of landed aristocracy emerging on the Moon, with the richest Houses becoming feudal lords themselves. Several other private organizations given sanction by lunar law eventually came to compete with the Houses: the Cooperative Fellowships, strongest in Mare Imbrium, the Mining Unions at the poles, the Seven Sodalities, four of which were offshoots of Earth universities, and of course traditional joint-stock corporations, and several territorial states originally founded along Earthlike, constitutional lines. The extreme costliness of armed conflict in an airless environment, where one small bomb could kill hundreds or thousands of people if it breached the right wall, the pan-lunar institutions set up by the people of the Moon on their own initiative, and a shared legal framework that reached maturity in this era, have prevented large-scale violence. Which is not to say they have prevented conflict: political antagonism is, as I have noted, alive and well, and the number of breakaway factions, de facto independent provinces, unrecognized states, and squatters' militias may in fact rival the number of "legitimate" political entities.

The independent-minded nature of the lunar peoples ultimately dismantled the largest of the Shared Houses; modern individualism made a repeat of true medieval dynastic politics impossible. Of the original so-called Hotels (this name originates in a very old and very tiresome joke about monopolies and a forgotten Earth board game), which numbered between twelve and fourteen depending on the criterion used, all had split up before the Conference Muscoviensis adopted rules to prohibit such sprawling empires in the future. Now, only about sixty-four percent of land on the Moon is held by Shared Houses, often through complex schemes involving holding companies and investment vehicles. The Lunar Customs Union, the Uniform Lunar Commercial Code, and various geographically rather than politically based currency unions, together make the Moon seem, to the outside observer or the casual tourist, no more fractious than any other human world, and possibly one of the most unified of them all. This is an illusion, borne of mutual suspicion of outsiders, but it is also a gift; for I can attest that, once you have won the trust of a few lunar friends, and they have come to see you as one of their own number, suddenly all their disputes and rivalries are laid bare, all their petty squabbles and decades-old feuds, and these stories are as tiresome as they are repetitive, and you may cast your eyes about desperately, looking for an unattended airlock to throw yourself out of.

Let us move on. For we have discussed the history of four of the Inner Worlds, and we have seen that, though the result in each case was quite different, similar forces governed their development; only the different balance of those forces determined the outcome in each case. But now we must speak of Venus. Ah! Venus! The world most utterly inimical to human life, except for the gas giants themselves. Yet still peopled: for the pale Cytherian clouds hide one of perhaps the most astonishing tales of the Second Space Race era. It begins on the eve of a war....

--Tjungdiawan’s Historical Reader, 3rd edition

[avengershumanresources]

blood 7 - Strange/Stark!Reader

Relationship: Dr. Strange/Princess!Stark!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Adult Themes, eventual smut, adult language, implied sexual violence, general violence

Synopsis: Reader is the daughter of the legendary King Anthony Stark, Uniter of Lands, The Iron Defender, and leader of the realm. When the king disappears during battle, hope is lost and he is presumed dead.

When the late king’s uncle, Obadiah, takes the throne until your brother Peter is of age, he quickly arranges a marriage for you with a wicked king in a neighboring kingdom.

With the realms politics in question, and rumors of an upcoming siege to overthrow Peter’s rule before it starts, you quickly learn who is loyal to the crown and who is not.

part 6 - part 8 (coming April 13th)

Masterlist

Chapter Playlist

CHAPTER WARNING: Yee-har, thar be smut afoot in this here chapter. 18+

7- a king

Anthony Stark hadn’t expected all of this to come of his death. He foresaw of some of it.  

Of Obadiah’s imminent betrayal and Brock’s general ambition, but when Wanda had approached him with her vision all those years ago, he couldn’t have understood what it all meant. 

Now, however, he realized the violence that was soon to arrive at his kingdom’s doorstep. It was an uneasy feeling; the responsibility bestowed upon him to put men’s lives at risk. To make widows and orphans because of inter family squabbles. 

But Tony knew that Obadiah and Brock both presented far larger threats in the long term. 

A king who is hungry for power will never stop to consider the least fortunate in his rule. 

It was a mantra Tony had created for himself after his father had let entire villages fall to win back some petty golden toy during the War of the Giants. In the end, the lives lost had been worthless and the giants returned to their mountains with more spoils than they’d started. 

It had made him sick. 

That was the moment Tony decided to be a better man. A better king. He took pride in his unselfish rule and lack of war among those who shared the boundary with his kingdom. By a miracle he’d gotten Brock into line, but Obadiah had gotten a taste of power from his position in the Giant’s War and wanted more.

Rumors turned to plots, and all at once Tony knew his family and legacy was in danger. He had a troubled relationship with the Wakandans after one of his own barons killed their king in a quest for vengeance after the Giant’s War. Steve had volunteered as ambassador with the shadowy James Barnes (who’d long had a positive relationship with T’Challa) and they’d managed to broker a deal benefiting both nations. 

And Asgard. 

That was a whole other bag of complications. 

Odin had long been distrustful of Tony’s first wife, the late Queen Alexandra due to her Vanir lineage. The Asgardians had fought for centuries trying to eradicate what they’d seen as a dangerous race of uncontrollable magic users. 

Odin had been a step in the right direction, after replacing his late father, but the prejudices still remained and Tony’s marriage to one of the few remaining Vanir royals had soured what little relations they’d had. 

Still, in the end, they’d protected you when he so desperately needed help the Asgardians could only provide. To that, he’d offered her hand to the princes, and Odin took the offer into consideration, only backing off when an agreement was made between the two boys and yourself that affections lay elsewhere.

Which brought him to his latest challenge. Your engagement to the monster king, Brock Rumlow. 

The popular story was that he’d had his late wife killed when she hadn’t produced a male heir. Every female baby prior had been fed to the dogs and at last, when her fifth pregnancy had yielded yet another female, she fell mysteriously ill and died a few nights later. Some say a villager found the baby’s water logged corpse shortly after. 

From a strategic perspective, it made sense. You hadn’t been called upon by any serious suitors, often running around the kingdom with a begrudging Stephen on your coattails, and you were still young enough to bare a child or two. 

Brock needed a means of securing trust in the kingdom, and marrying one of its beloved daughters was the way to do it. Not to mention, Obadiah got his army, Peter would be overthrown when he attempted to take his birthright, and both men would share in the mutual benefits of being involved in one of the strongest economies in history. 

It was a clear cut plan for control of the kingdom, and it would have been more than enough for Tony to take action.

Except for one small caveat.

You. 

You’d been born of the same Vanir blood as your mother and even as a days old infant, you had shown the Master Sorceress at the time an insurmountable measure of power. 

It was an old and finicky magic, the woman had warned before your mother’s body had even cooled in bed. You would need trining, but there was no one left to provide. 

The Asgardians had been thorough in destroying the ancient texts and any remaining Vanir had long fallen into hiding, often using enchanted amulets and trinkets to conceal their seidr from those with wicked intentions. 

Your mother had been a victim of such vicious greed. She’d been open with her abilities, sharing a close bond with Orin’s own wife and his young son, Loki. The pair had conspired to learn all the forbidden secrets of the Vanir, and she’d begun to accumulate quite the library of resources from old temples and Asgardian burial tombs. 

Frigga helped her translate and in turn, the relationship with the royal families had warmed considerably until a few days before your birth. 

Things had fallen apart so quickly. The Northern Kree empire had infiltrated the castle after hearing rumors of the queen’s power. Someone had once written that a single drop of Vanir blood was worth thousands in gold pieces. A bandit had gotten through the gates while she labored, he had ambushed her in the birthing chambers and despite putting up an admirable fight- died with a dagger stabbed through her heart. 

The beast had tried to cut it free in front of the midwives. 

The Master Sorceress had only stepped from the room a moment to freshen up her herbal remedies. By the time anyone had made it to her side, she had died, and you’d been cut free of her with that same knife. 

“Your majesty?” Wanda inquired, approaching where he sat by the fire of the rebellion campsite.

“Yes?” He blinked up, returning to the present at hand. The men who were preparing for battle around him. The women sharpening weapons and sewing leather.  

The people he had asked to rise up for the betterment of the kingdom. The people who were prepared to die by his side for a secure future. 

“Master Strange is to meet at my cottage in the hour,” she explained. 

“And what would you advise Master Sorceress?” he asked, an amused expression on his face. “Shall we let him in on our secret?” 

“With less than seven days to the wedding, it might be wise,” she reasoned sardonically. “Natalia has her own mission in securing the support from within. Master Strange is working with Peter and Loki on securing the vulnerable.” 

“Do you think he told him?” Tony looked down at the fire pensively. 

“Who?” 

“Loki,” he clarified. “He and Master Mordo were among the few who knew. They had to have mentioned something to him. He’s- well- I’m not entirely sure what he is to her now, but he’s certainly one of the closest lines of protection to her.”

“Assuming the rune hasn’t already faded, I would think he either told him or Stephen found out for himself, my liege,” Wanda sat down on the log next to time, her gaze following his into the flames. “Her power is what Amora desires. It needs to be concealed until the princess is in safe hands.”

“Then he knows,” Tony decided, nodding to himself. “Amora would have done something stupid if the seidr had broken through completely. Someone is keeping it under control.”

“I’ll find out,” Wanda promised. “Would you like to speak to him?”

Tony made a disgruntled noise at the thought of approaching the sorcerer. House Strange had long served under the Stark banner, proudly riding at the front of the line when called upon for battle. When they sent their oldest to train at Kamar-Taj, Tony had been surprised.

The boy had a knack for strategy and was sharp as a needle point. Tony could have seen the young man easily rise in leadership in the house, ruling his own militiamen and managing the family affairs. 

But apparently he had no interest in it, and in an unorthodox fashion, the assets had been passed to their eldest daughter. 

Granted, in the end, none of that mattered- as the entire family estate had been stricken by a particularly nasty plague. The sole survivor was Stephen, who’d been away at Kamar-Taj when he’d gotten the news. 

He’d rushed home, and in the process gotten sick himself, but with the help of his fellow sorcerers, recovered with the only remnants of the illness remaining in his hands. He often told others it had been a riding accident. Only a select few knew the truth and devastation of his loss. 

Tony had met with the young man on his sickbed, assuring him the assets would remain in the family. That the castle would maintain the property while he fulfilled his obligations to Kamar-Taj. After all, there was no greater calling than to a life of service and compassion. It was the least Tony could do. 

Well, until you had scared off every Master to cross the castle threshold and he’d gotten desperate and asked the boy for a favor.

He should have known better. You were close in age. Equally as ambitious and cunning. For years you’d been sneaking through passages and around the villages at night, often with Natalia at your side. 

Stephen just made it easier, and helped Tony rest a little easier knowing the man would give his life for you, if need be. 

Tony wasn’t dumb. He’d seen it the first night the you had met. 

The sneaking smiles, the conspiratorial whispers in the corners of the ballroom, and when Peter’s cat turned into a lion almost identical to the Stark sigil, Tony knew that one day he might allow that young man to break the oaths he’d made for a single exception. 

“Your highness?” Wanda pried gently for a clearer answer. 

“Yes, I’ll speak to him,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. About a great many things.

(—)

“I somehow don’t believe you just found out about this,” you stated, sitting cross legged on one of the strewn about cushions, a teapot floating delicately from the palm of your hand. 

“I’ve learned a number of thing recently,” he replied dryly. “Like Mordo is alive, and Brock wants to kill Obadiah once you’re wed.”

You lost your focus and the cup shattered on the ground. 

“He what?” you gaped at Stephen while he repaired the ceramic cup with a wave of his hand. 

“It ties into the whole secret magic thing, but it really isn’t an ideal situation,” he explained, setting the cup aside and dropping to the cushion across from you. 

“I guess it’s good I’ve pestered you for your books over the years,” you mused, flexing your fingers in the air in front of you.

“It isn’t the same,” he sighed, watching while you lifted a few other stray objects and paused them between the two of you. “Seidr is... there isn’t documentation. The books were destroyed. Kamar-Taj had a few tomes but the Vanir language is nearly impossible to translate at this point.”

“What about Loki? Or Frigga?” you asked, moving both your hands at once and dropping a feather into his lap with a grin. 

“Believe it or not, I’ve been focused on other issues,” he muttered dryly. “We’re going to have to seal this before you leave.”

“But you said it’s what preventing Amora from taking over my head,” you reminded him pointedly, summoning a small flame from an incantation you’d studied the day before. Extinguishing it between your palms, you looked up at him for a better excuse. 

“But it is also the reason Brock is forcing you into a marriage and so she can control you, and in turn, your power better than you can,” he explained tersely. “She can’t know you’ve gotten partial control over it. Let her underestimate you, but until you can learn to conceal the energy yourself, you can’t risk exposure.”

“So am I being sealed or not?” you asked impatiently, floating a candle from you to him. He took it with an amused half-smile, extinguishing the light with a quick puff of air. “Can you do a... half seal? Hide the energy, keep some of the good parts?”

“Gods, I don’t know,” he groaned, shaking his head while he seat the canclde aside. “This is entirely new territory that I was not trained for.”

“That must mean you’re a terrible Sorcerer Supreme. What fool put you in charge?” you teased, reaching forward and tapping the top of his nose playfully. 

“It’s not my fault you’re a freakish anomaly that’s supposed to be extinct,” he mumbled, pulling a frown while you laughed. “Give me your wrist.”

“Fine, but when this over I demand you help me train properly,” you stated and though he  continued grumbling under his breath about being too old for your games, he agreed. “And Loki helps too.”

“Not part of the deal,” Stephen scowled. 

“Fine, I’ll marry him then,” you smirked back at him. “You still haven’t asked, so I guess when my wedding tragically falls through, I’ll have to find respite with him.”

He pulled you forward, a glint in his eyes that sent a shiver through your entire body. 

“I’m not going to chase after a betrothed woman, it’s bad taste,” he hummed, fingers crawling up your wrist and intertwining with your fingers. “I have a reputation to uphold, even if you feel comfortable hiding away with strange men in dark places.”

“Is that supposed to be a joke?” you whispered, sitting up on your knees and tilting your head.

“Do you not think I’m funny?” he murmured, reaching with his free head and tilting back your chin. A smile played on the corners of your mouth, both of you sizing the other up and daring the other to make the first move. 

“I can think of many things you are,” you lifted his hand and pressed a tender kiss to his palm. “But funny?”

“You laugh at all of my clever wit, don’t try to deceive me princess, I know the truth,” Stephen sharply pulled your hand forward, forcing you to fall into his chest. He held your lower back, gazing down at you adoringly. “You’re trying to hide it, but I see it in your eyes.”

“Do you know what I see in your eyes?” your voice cracked ever so slightly, your hand cradling his cheek, your thumb lightly tracing the sharp features. 

“What do you see?” 

“Strength,” you murmured, transfixed by his opalescent gaze. All at once, it was like you were seeing him for the first time. You could feel the energy radiating off of him, seeing the waves of magic as they ripples through his body. “Devotion to... Stephen you’re beautiful.”

“Or so the stars whisper to the earth below,” his voice was soft, gentle, while his hand guided itself up your arm to your cheek. “But, what the stars do not see is their own radiance, their own ethereal light shimmering across the velvet heavens above. The stars do not know how the Earth worships the very flicker of their existence, tells stories of their magnificence and beauty. The do not know how the Earth finds its meaning in what little time it steals away to them in the night.”

It all happened very quickly after that. 

You peeled at his robes, he worked at your corset, a frenzy of hands and mouths tasting one another in a way neither had ever imagined. 

Discarding the corset, he worked his hands up your blouse, fingers lightly teasing the tip of your nipple until you let out a satisfied moan. Robes loose, you pushed him back against a nearby pile of cushions, climbing between his legs and peppering hungry kisses up and down his neck until he growled, clawing at your hips. 

“If you’re-,” he tired protesting while you pulled away more clothing, pressing his leg between yours and letting out a whimper of pleasure when he shifted in just the right way. 

That seemed to set something off in him. 

He was over you, flipping you to the ground and pulling what little clothing remained between you, your naked bodies now flush. Stephen moved down to your breast, drawing a nipple between his teeth and watching you squirm under him at the incredible sensation. 

“Please,” you mewed, an absolute wreck under him. 

He took his time, moving to the other nipple and repeating his actions until you were begging for any kind of release.��

“Needy are we?” he murmured in your ear, his voice low and so controlled, you couldn’t understand how he could stand it. Goosebumps erupted over your body, and he just smirked, continuing his exploration.  

Teasing a finger at your entrance, he looked to you for final approval before easing the digit into you. 

“Gods,” he hissed, moving the finger at an agonizingly slow speed. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes upon.”

He caught you in a kiss, speeding up his hand below, his thumb searching for the sensitive nub of nerves. When he grazed over the tender area, you nearly shot out of yourself, the sensation feeling downright sinful. 

Pulling his finger out, you let out another whimper, this one of protest at the emptiness inside of you. 

“Are you certain-?” he asked again, eyes scanning your face for any sign of hesitation or doubt. 

“I’ve never been more certain of anything,” you replied honestly. It wasn’t an exaggeration. You’d been a make up to this point, untouched and with no interest in engaging in such outrageous behavior.

Yet with him, you wished you could give more. Your body. Your soul. Your love. What did it matter anymore? He was yours, sitting before you and showing you through his loving car assess and sensations you’d never known before this moment. 

He eased himself in, giving you time to adjust to his length, the member much larger than his single finger. But Gods, did he feel incredible. 

You’d never thought so much emotion and pleasure could occur in a single moment. For this tiny hidden corner of the universe, you felt like your souls had collided and merged. 

It was a far cry from how Nat had told you it was. 

This was- you anticipated each of his movements, raising your hips to meet his as he crashed inside of you. Your brain couldn’t form coherent thoughts and when he started to coax something feral from within your core, you let him lead you through it. 

Pumping in time with strokes to your clit, you clenched your walls around him, pulling a hissed curse from the sorcerer. 

A few more pumps and a final circle around the sensitive area and you felt your orgasm crash over you. 

At first, you thought you’d done something wrong. Did you break something? How did this feel so incredible and overwhelming all at once? 

While you rode out your bliss, you felt his hips tighten, finishing with a final grunt.

You both stated at one another, eyes wide, trying to catch your breath. 

“Have you-,” you started but paused. “Like that before-?” 

It was no secret Stephen wasn’t exactly a virgin. He had his vows but they were against attachment, not sex, and sometimes, as he put it, the spirit needed to be revitalized. 

You’d called him a creep and moved on, but Gods did you understand now. 

“I don’t know what happened,” he blinked, looking thoroughly bewildered. “That’s... I’ve never- my gods, you’re incredible.”

He pulled out, dropping to the ground next to you with a huff. 

“I have a potion,” he muttered, pointing to the table above them. “Prevents pregnancy.”

“And here I thought you were devoted to me,” you poked him in the rib and he just laughed. 

“I am,” he insisted. “However, I’m not devoted enough to end up in the gallows for deflowering a princess who is betrothed to a ruthless king. My apologies, my grace.”

“Hm, I’m sure I can find someone willing to make that sacrifice for me,” you hummed. 

“And a fool he will be,” he leaned up on his elbow. “I still win the day. He would be hanged and I still get my princess.”

“Your princess?” 

“Has it been any other way?” he asked, quirking a brow. “Truly, if I’m mistaken, tell me. I don’t want to sound too over ambitious.”

You considered it briefly. Had it? 

No, you knew from the moment you spied those eyes at the ball welcoming him to the castle that he was your future. You just hadn’t realized what that meant at the time. 

There was no world, no life, where you could live without him by your side. 

The thought sobered you quickly, your upcoming nuptials springing to mind, the spell locking you in your private world, now lifted. 

“Would you have asked my father?” you asked. 

“In another life, we would have been married by now,” he answered earnestly. “I’m a fool for having hesitated and nearly missed my chance at an eternity by your side.” 

“And Brock?” you asked, the name leaving a sour taste in your mouth. Stephen’s expression darkened at mention of the man. 

“I’ll kill him before he touches you,” he vowed. “I will not yield your heart to such a monster, and I will stop this. I cannot risk you leaving my side. Not again, my love.”

You leaned forward and kissed him, soft, intimate, and gentle. Stephen wasn’t a fighter. 

Certainly he could fight, but you knew him well enough to know that violence was a last option after all other options had been tried. And here he was preparing to declare a one man war on your betrothed. 

Truly, the heavens were smiling upon you in this life.

(—)

Later that evening, when Stephen had returned you safely to your quarters, he met with Wanda at her cottage at the edge of the woods to discuss the next steps in the plan. 

When she caught sight of him, her expression shifted from confused to elated to-

“What is it?” he asked, knowing she’d gotten a read of what he’d been up to previously. 

“Do well to conceal your thoughts,” she warned, leading him inside. 

“Conceal what-?” he asked after her, stopping in his tracks when he saw Anthony sitting at her table, sipping at a large horn of water. 

Tony stood up, giving the man a once over, brows raised as he took him in. 

“You couldn’t wait until the wedding night?” he grumbled, dropping back down in his chair with a long sigh. 

(—)

8- a secret

TAG LIST (message to be added!):

@ayamenimthiriel​ @ladynothing

@im-a-bi-disaster-help @idkwhatthisislol

[blu-joons]

DATING TVXQ A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Shim Changmin

A ⇴ AFFECTION 

His height meant Changmin was a great hugger with you. He’d bundle you tightly in his arms and make you feel tiny against his chest. He’d always rest over you and make sure that he emphasised the height difference between you both too.

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING 

You ended up dropping your bag as you were walking one afternoon when a figure knelt down to help pick up your items. When you came face to face with Changmin, your stomach instantly dropped as you were drawn to his smile and his eyes. He quickly introduced yourself as you thanked him for helping you out.

C ⇴ CONFESSION 

It took quite a while for Changmin to feel confident enough to confess to you, he knew he had to be sure that you were happy and willing to take on his crazy world and do it with a smile on your face. He was at an age where if he started a relationship, he was in it for the long run, so it was only when he was sure that he could see a future with you as well, did he finally decide the time was right to confess to you.

D ⇴ DATES 

Changmin’s a huge movie buff, and so many of your dates will often involve films. Some nights the two of you will head to the movies with far too much popcorn in your hands to watch the new release that has just come out. Other times you’ll lay in bed and watch a movie once he comes home from his schedule to help the two of you wind down before bed. But your favourite time with movies is when the two of you have days off, making yourselves comfortable in the living room and having a marathon of all your favourites.

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE 

Being so focused on his career for so many years, Changmin had very little experience when it came to dating, although he loved to tell you about his scandal with Minho all the time. When he first told you about how the media mistook Minho for a girl in his company at Yunho’s solo concert, you definitely saw the funny side. Even now, you often reminded Changmin that he’d made a girl, Minho, very happy before and so there was no doubt in your mind that he was also going to make you a very happy girl too.

F ⇴ FIGHTING 

Changmin is very much like a ticking time bomb when it comes to arguments, he doesn’t get mad often, he’s usually very good at holding his temper and biting his tongue. However, as his frustrations begin to build and his tongue swells from how long he’s bitten down on it, he’ll eventually find himself keeping up a storm and letting go of all of his frustrations. It’s definitely a shock to you when his temper finally blows, but you can only sit back and let him get everything off his chest. Once he’s done, and calm, he’ll apologise of course, and promise to try and keep himself better composed the next time you argue.

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY 

Introducing you to his two sisters spelt out trouble for Changmin, the three of you often ganged up on him and bonded over all of the stories that you had to share about him. Whilst Changmin loved that you three got on so well, he definitely didn’t enjoy being embarrassed by the three of you time and time again.

H ⇴ HOME 

He was quite keen to move you into his home after a few months in your relationship. Whilst he liked his own space and his apartment, he would never say no to having someone else there to enjoy the space with him. He made several changes to his apartment too to make sure that it felt like your home as well.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU” 

Changmin was the first one of the two of you to say, ‘I love you,’ after you surprised him at a TVXQ show. He was overwhelmed to say the least to see you stood before him that the words came from his mouth before he even had chance to think. You were surprised momentarily, before assuring him that you felt the same.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY 

When he was younger Changmin would have probably got jealous, but as he’d got older and matured, jealousy is a feeling he fails to feel anymore. He trusts you and those around you, knowing that you’d never do anything to make him jealous anyway. He’s adult enough too that it he does feel himself getting jealous, then he’ll talk it out with you. There are times when he’s most definitely protective of you, but he definitely wouldn’t stretch as far to say that it’s jealousy, because he knows full well that you can handle yourself too.

K ⇴ KIDS 

Changmin definitely sees himself having a future with you, otherwise he would’ve never started your relationship. Whilst he doesn’t want to rush things too much, he’s open and honest with you about the fact that he sees children in his future. He wants to be the family man, even if he’s an idol, despite the stereotypes around it, he fails to see why he can’t live out both of his dreams and do it to the best of his ability.

L ⇴ LAUGHTER

Whilst he’s not someone loud and outlandish, Changmin still tries to be a big enough character to make sure that the smile is on your face. You know that he’s not someone that feels the need to try desperately hard to be funny, so instead you learn to laugh and love with the many other fascinating qualities that Changmin has instead. You appreciate his kindness and how much he cares for you a lot more than you focus on his ability to make you laugh. Regardless of how funny he may or not be, you always have a smile on your face whenever you’re in his company, and that’s what is most important to you both.

M ⇴ MISSING 

Despite the many years he’s spent touring the world, missing the one that he loves really does take it out of Changmin. He’s someone that doesn’t want others to see him sad, so he’ll often head back to his hotel room whenever he can feel himself beginning to miss you and get through it alone. Yunho had definitely learnt over the years too how to help Changmin deal with the feeling of missing you. Whilst he can often tell when Changmin has been getting teary, he’ll try not to show it, and so Yunho won’t bring it up. He’ll simply try his hardest to make Changmin smile and distract him from you as best as he can.

N ⇴ NICKNAMES

He loves nicknames that he’s heard in the movies, things like ‘darling,’ which are repeated again and again are his favourite nicknames for you. Anything he knows will make you smile is good as far as Changmin is concerned.

O ⇴ OBSESSION 

Changmin is obsessed with your huge heart, he loves feeling loved, but most of all, he loves the kindness and the care that you have for him, always.

P ⇴ PDA 

The biggest thing for Changmin is that you’re safe with him, so his affection in public will usually be to make sure that you feel happy at his side. He’s spent many years in the public eye, he knows how things can be, so no matter the situation, he’s always on top of things and making sure you’re protected under his touch.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS 

He loved to get deep with you and ask you pressing questions of the worlds. He had a lot of thoughts that he’d share with you, but he’d love to hear all of your thoughts too on all of the random things of the world.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS 

You very much ended up as the fourth part of his drinking trio with Minho and Kyuhyun, they loved inviting you out to their drinking events with them and try to get you as drunk as possible. Whilst Changmin would be a little bit more careful, the other two could constantly pass you soju bottles, knowing full well that if you got too drunk that it would be Changmin looking after you and they didn’t have to worry about a thing.

S ⇴ SEX 

The number one priority as far as Changmin is concerned is always you. He’s full of love and passion when it comes to you and making sure that you feel loved by him too. He takes his time with you, he’s never one to rush into anything, paying close attention to small details and little things that he knows you like. If there’s one thing that can be guaranteed with Changmin, it’s that he always leaves you feeling on top of the world.

T ⇴ TEXTS 

He would get in contact with you often, but Changmin much preferred to call than text you. The sound of your voice was comforting, and he could also tell how you were really doing by the tone of your voice rather than just a text.

U ⇴ UNIVERSE 

The thing that Changmin always valued the most from being with you was the support that you always gave him. You never once complained, but instead you were the first one there to cheer him on in anything that he did.

V ⇴ VACATION 

Whenever he went on tour, Changmin always made sure to note down his favourite places so that he could take you there one day and show you around some new cities. So, when he finally got the chance to take you away, he made sure to revisit the places he knew you’d adore and create plenty of memories with you.

W ⇴ WHINING 

Changmin was far too mature to whine if he wanted something, he was patient with you and always obliging to wait for your time.

X ⇴ XXXXX 

His favourite spot to kiss was always against the top of your head, Changmin loved to use his height to his advantage when he was kissing you. If he wasn’t snatching against your forehead, then he’d be leaning down and pressing a kiss against your cheek. He loves making it difficult for you to kiss him, nothing makes him happier than knowing you’re up on your tiptoes just so that you’re at the height to be able to kiss him.

Y ⇴ YOU 

You were his best friend, the one person that he always wanted to be around.

Z ⇴ ZZZ 

Most nights you end up falling asleep listening to Changmin sleep talk beside you. Whilst he’ll often argue otherwise, you lay up and listen closely, making sure to record it when you can so he has no room for argument the following morning when you’re exhausted.

---

Masterlist

[blackwoolncrown]

The defining feature of conversation is the expectation of a response. It would just be a monologue without one. In person, or on the phone, those responses come astoundingly quickly: After one person has spoken, the other replies in an average of just 200 milliseconds.

In recent decades, written communication has caught up—or at least come as close as it’s likely to get to mimicking the speed of regular conversation (until they implant thought-to-text microchips in our brains). It takes more than 200 milliseconds to compose a text, but it’s not called “instant” messaging for nothing: There is an understanding that any message you send can be replied to more or less immediately.

But there is also an understanding that you don’t have to reply to any message you receive immediately. As much as these communication tools are designed to be instant, they are also easily ignored. And ignore them we do. Texts go unanswered for hours or days, emails sit in inboxes for so long that “Sorry for the delayed response” has gone from earnest apology to punchline.

People don’t need fancy technology to ignore each other, of course: It takes just as little effort to avoid responding to a letter, or a voicemail, or not to answer the door when the Girl Scouts come knocking. As Naomi Baron, a linguist at American University who studies language and technology, puts it, “We’ve dissed people in lots of formats before.” But what’s different now, she says, is that “media that are in principle asynchronous increasingly function as if they are synchronous.”

The result is the sense that everyone could get back to you immediately, if they wanted to—and the anxiety that follows when they don’t. But the paradox of this age of communication is that this anxiety is the price of convenience. People are happy to make the trade to gain the ability to respond whenever they feel like it.

While you may know, rationally, that there are plenty of good reasons for someone not to respond to a text or an email—they’re busy, they haven’t seen the message yet, they’re thinking about what they want to say—it doesn’t always feel that way in a society where everyone seems to be on their smartphone all the time. A Pew survey found that 90 percent of cellphone owners “frequently” carry their phone with them, and 76 percent say they turn their phone off “rarely” or “never.” In one small 2015 study, young adults checked their phones an average of 85 times a day. Combine that with the increasing social acceptability of using your smartphone when you’re with other people, and it’s reasonable to expect that it probably doesn’t take that long for a recipient to see any given message.

“You create for people an environment where they feel as though they could be responded to instantaneously, and then people don’t do that. And that just has anxiety all over it,” says Sherry Turkle, the director of the Initiative on Technology and Self at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

It’s anxiety-inducing because written communication is now designed to mimic conversation—but only when it comes to timing. It allows for a fast back-and-forth dialogue, but without any of the additional context of body language, facial expression, and intonation. It’s harder, for example, to tell that someone found your word choice off-putting, and thus to correct it in real-time, or try to explain yourself better. When someone’s in front of you, “you do get to see the shadow of your words across someone else’s face,” Turkle says.

In last month’s viral New Yorker short story “Cat Person,” a young woman embarks on a failed romantic relationship with a man she meets at the movie theater where she works. They only go on one date in the story; they get to know each other primarily over text. When the affair ends messily, it reveals not only how the bubble of romantic expectations can be popped by reality’s needle, but also how weak digital communication is as a scaffolding on which to build an understanding of another person.

In an interview, the story’s author, Kristen Roupenian, said the piece was inspired by “the strange and flimsy evidence we use to judge the contextless people we meet outside our existing social networks, whether online or off.” Indeed, even for the people we already know, we increasingly rely on contextless forms of communication. This puts an unusually large burden on the words themselves (and maybe some emojis) to convey what is meant. And each message, and each pause in between messages, takes on outsize importance.

“Text messages become marks on rocks to be analyzed and sweated over,” Turkle says.

It’s not always easy to figure out what someone meant to convey by using a certain emoji, or by waiting three days to text you back. Different people have different ideas about how long it’s appropriate to wait to respond. As Deborah Tannen, a linguist at Georgetown University, wrote in The Atlantic, the signals that are sent by how people communicate online—the “metamessages” that accompany the literal messages—can easily be misinterpreted:

Human beings are always in the business of making meaning and interpreting meaning. Because there are options to choose from when sending a message, like which platform to use and how to use it, we see meaning in the choice that was made. But because the technologies, and the conventions for using them, are so new and are changing so fast, even close friends and relatives have differing ideas about how they should be used. And because metamessages are implied rather than stated, they can be misinterpreted or missed entirely.

This metamessage opacity spawns thousands of other text messages a year, as people enlist their friends to help interpret exactly what their romantic interest meant by a certain turn of phrase, or whether a week-long radio silence means they’re being ghosted. (The New Yorker parodied this collaborative textual analysis in a video in which a group of women gather, war-room style, to answer the question “Was It a Date?”)

Features intended to add clarity—like read receipts or the little bubble with the ellipses in iMessage that tells you when someone is typing (which is apparently called the “typing awareness indicator”)—often just cause more anxiety, by offering definitive evidence for when someone is ignoring you or started to reply only to put it off longer.

* * *

But just because people know how stressful it can be to wait for a reply to what they thought would be an instant message doesn’t mean they won’t ignore others’ messages in turn.

Sometimes people don’t respond as a way of deliberately signaling they’re annoyed, or that they don’t want to continue a relationship. Turkle says sometimes taking a long time to write back is a way of establishing dominance in a relationship, by making yourself look simply too busy and important to reply.

But oftentimes, people are just trying to manage the quantity of messages and notifications they receive. In 2015, the average American was receiving 88 business emails per day, according to the market research firm Radicati, but only sending 34 business emails per day. Because—who has the time to respond to 88 emails a day? Maybe someone isn’t responding because they’ve realized the interruption of a notification negatively affects their productivity, so they’re ignoring their phone to get some work done.

I find myself ignoring or procrastinating even important messages, and ones I want and intend to respond to. I had to create a bright red “Needs Response” email label to battle my own “delayed response” problem. I regularly read texts, think “I’ll respond to that later,” and then completely forget about it.  Working memory—the brain’s mental to-do list—can only hold so much at once, and when notifications get crammed in with shopping lists and work tasks, sometimes it springs a leak.

“A lot of the time what’s happening is people have five conversations going on, and they just can’t really be intimate and present with five different people,” Turkle says. “So they kind of do a triage, they prioritize, they forget. Your brain is not a perfect instrument for processing texts. But it will be interpreted as though it really was a conversation, and so you can hurt people.”

* * *

Still, even though instant written communication can be overwhelming and anxiety-inducing, people prefer it. Americans spend more time texting than talking on the phone, and texting is the most frequent form of communication for Americans under 50.

While texting is popular worldwide, Baron, of American University, thinks that a strong preference for communication that can be easily ignored is a particularly American attitude. “Americans have far fewer manners in general in their communication than a lot of other societies,” she says. “The second issue is a real feeling of empowerment. I think we have become a version of power freaks, not just control freaks.”

In a survey Baron conducted in 2007 and 2008 of students in several countries including the United States, the things that people said they liked most about their phones were often related to control. One American woman said her favorite thing was “Constant communication when I want it (can also shut it off when I don’t).”

“What I have seen in this country, and I don’t know if it’s a national trait, is people wait until they think they have the perfect thing to say, as though relationships can be managed by writing the perfect thing,” Turkle says. “And I think that is something we pay a very high cost for.”

In Baron’s survey, people also mentioned feeling controlled by their phones—bemoaning how dependent they were on the devices, and how the constant connectivity made them feel obligated to respond.

But texts and emails don’t create as big of an obligation as phone calls, or a face-to-face conversation. When young adults are interviewed about why they don’t like making phone calls, they cite a distaste for how “invasive” they are, and a reluctance to place that burden on someone else. Written instant messages create a smokescreen of plausible deniability if someone doesn’t feel like responding, which can be relieving for the hider, and frustrating for the seeker.

More than anything, what the age of instant communication has enabled is the ability to deal with conversation on our own terms. We can respond right away, we can put it off for two days, or never get around to it at all. We can manage several different conversations at once. “Sorry, I was out with friends,” we might say, as an excuse for not texting someone back. Or, “Sorry, I just need to text this person back real quick,” we might say while out with friends.

As these things become normal, it creates an environment where we are only comfortable asking for slivers of people’s distracted time, lest they ever obligate us to give them our full and undivided attention.