#is when i genuinely cannot mask my exhaustion

[babyangelsky]

Peat's acting is stupendous and it's hurting my feelings

I need to talk about the bedroom scene and the fight that preceded it because it felt like I was having a mirror held up to me and looking at my younger self and in doing, so I've come to love Tongrak as a character even more than I did before.

I talked about the expressions already but I just cannot get past this one. Rak's eyes are so dead and he looks so tired in a way that I understand so deeply. He knows what's about to happen. He screened Prin's call earlier precisely in hopes of avoiding it but she showed up anyway.

I do have to acknowledge that a lot of my interpretation and feelings about him and these scenes are very much a product of my own experiences, but believe me when I tell you that having a family as fucked as his and having to deal with relatives like this drains you. You fight back because you have to, not because you want to. You don't go seeking the bullshit but somehow it always seems to arrive at your door.

I know exactly how he must be feeling because I've felt it. Because I've fought back and made sure my mask was firmly in place for as long as I needed it to only to break the second I could turn my face away.

I'm impressed that Rak didn't run from Mut and that he didn't start crying on the way to his bedroom. That powerwalk he did instead though? I know it all too well.

To Rak's mind, Mut has already witnessed far more than Rak ever intended for him to. That fight was nasty. It poked at so many wounds, touched on so many painful, intimate things about Rak's family and about him. Prin wanted to hurt and humiliate him and she succeeded.

I can confidently say that if someone I cared about witnessed that happening to me, the last thing I would want is to break down in front of them on top of it, so I completely understand why Rak's first instinct was to put distance between him and Mut. You know the breakdown is coming and the only thing you want is to have it in private.

I know people feel some kind of way about Rak's refusal to let Mut into his bedroom and essentially shutting him out but Mook tells us in episode 4 that no one is allowed in Rak's bedroom. This isn't just about Mut. Everything we have learned and seen of Rak so far tells us that he's a person who needs a safe place to hide. A place where he can close the door and know he won't be intruded upon.

Sure, it's his house and ideally he would have the freedom to break down wherever he wants to inside of it but given that Mook comes and goes pretty freely, he doesn't really have that luxury by his standards. There's always a chance she'll walk in. And he certainly doesn't have it now that he's no longer living alone.

So he goes to hide in his bedroom so he can process and feel what he needs to.

And when Mut comes after him, this happens. Mut pushed at that boundary out of genuine care and concern and he's not wrong for that. I've been on his side of this equation too and the impulse to help in whatever way you can is impossible to resist, even if all you can offer is a meal.

But I also understand Rak. God do I understand him. That need to be alone, demanding to be left in peace, lashing out when someone won't despite it being with good intentions. When you've been pushed to your limit and you know a breakdown is coming and that there will be shrapnel when it does, the very last thing you want is for the people you care about to get hit with it.

Like @bird-inacage said in their post, Tongrak is a caged animal at this point. He's feeling vulnerable and defensive and he lashes out. He doesn't want to, he tries to stop it, but it ends up happening anyway.

And he regrets it. He does. The way I see it, he couldn't bring himself to knock on Mut's door both because he'd exhausted all his nerve in the fight with Prin and because a part of him was probably worried that he'd be rejected if he did. When you lash out, especially when you don't mean to, there's always a worry that you've done irreparable damage to your relationship with whoever was on the receiving end and that you won't ever be forgiven.

Sometimes it really is something as simple as a sticky note that brings you to tears and has you sobbing into your dinner in the middle of the night.

The note and the meal are proof that Tongrak hasn't been rejected, that he's still cared for despite the way he reacted after the fight and the things that he said. We know that Mut wasn't going to reject him but Rak needed to know that as well.

And now that they had their moment in the dressing room and the issue of the money has been talked about, we're paving a way forward for Rak to be able to express what he feels without using it as a defense mechanism. He still will, and he will hurt me many more times before we're done, but we're making progress.

[legendofmorons]

Meetings (Fierce)

Pairing: Fierce x reader

Rating: G

Summary: You don the mask only for it to be ripped away mid battle. The boys are able to save you but the mask is broken. Fierce tries to check on you to varying success rates.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, nothing too bad

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know

-------

Fierce has known about you since the first night you joined his host. He knows you see Time as family - but oh, Fierce thinks of you as an angel on earth. Perhaps a deity yourself.

You are unlike any of the boys. Unlike anyone he's ever met.

Your hands take his mask prison, gentle with new calloused forming. You're crying as you raise the mask to your face.

(Y/n)!" Time calls, "You don't have to-"

"I do." You say, pressing the mask to your face.

You scream - Fierce wishes it wasn't such a shock to gain his power. That it didn't hurt everyone who does this.

Hello, dear one. Let me help.

Your own thoughts greet him, 'Please just help. I need to protect them.'

I'll help you.

'Do you- really drive people mad?' You question, and it hurts him.

But he cannot lie to you.

When someone chooses unearned cruelty, I do.

And then you seem to relax. His power seeps into you, turning your eyes pure white and your hair turning to match.

He guides you, regretting every moment you might possibly be in danger.

He loses track of time.

The blood you shed under his helping hand is a sin.

One he will bear proudly as long as you make it out.

He hears your scream as something pulls his mask off of you against both your will and his.

It all goes black.

He is still attached to you, jist enough to feel you still fight. To hear someone call your name- his host.

He can feel from Time that you are safe. See out of Time's second open eye. Something is very wrong- but you and the others are safe...

Good.

.......

You are curled into the cloak Time set around your shoulders, the older man more than a little worried for you.

Warriors sits on your left, allowing you to lean against him as your body recovers.

"I'm so sorry. I should have -" You start an unneeded apology again.

"You did everything right. I've never had the mask ripped from me mid use- you protected us all. Long enough for us to heal and save you." Time says firmly.

"But I lost the-"

"We'll get it back. Right now, our concern is you." Time reassures, "Please. You need to rest."

You are too tired to really argue. Too far gone from the fight and the sudden ripping of the mask.

You feel a presence, tensing. It's strong, almost intimidating.

"Guys-"

The boys are already moving, swords drawn as they're push to their feet.

Warriors and Wild stand in front of and behind you, keeping your exhausted form safe.

From the tree line, a large Hylian figure holding what looks to be two halves of a mask emerges.

He's tall- insanely tall. Like, eight foot tall.

His hair is white.

His eyes - even from thirty feet away are unnaturally snow colored.

His face is covered in markings - the markings of f the mask you'd just used.

"Hello, young one." The man says, his voice like rolling thunder.

"You're free." Time says, sounding genuinely surprised.

"I am."

"Who-" you start, but you already know. This is the fierce deity.

"How?" Warriors asks, his own experience with the mask harrowing for him. More from the necessity than the deity himself.

"The mask broke. Where are they?"

"Where is who, Fierce?" Time asks, moving between the deity and the group.

"(Y/n). Never before has the mask been so suddenly ripped off during combat. Are-... Do you think I would harm you, Link?"

The deity sounds curious. Maybe just a little hurt. His gaze is stoney, but he dosen’t seem like he's itching for a fight either.

Time stares at him, "You're free for the first time in years. I don't know what you'll do."

"I would never hurt you. You are mine. My young hero."

"I'm not so young these days."

"No, I suppose not. You go by Time now, yes?"

"I do."

"Time, I do not wish to cause harm. "

Time seems weary, but he nods slowly as he takes one large side step so Fierce can survey the group.

Weapons are still clutched.

Wild and Warriors still flank you on either side, almost daring the deity to try to attack.

"(Y/n)." Fierce says, his eyes drawn to you, "are you hurt?"

"No... Hyrule helped me."

"Were you hurt then?"

"Some."

Fierce moves slowly, caution as he walks to you. Stopping a few inches away.

He reaches, gently, to touch your face. The back of his knuckles rest on your cheek as he stares at you.

"I truly apologize. For any harm I caused to you."

"I'd be worse off. Thanks for helping me."

"You, my dear one, I will always help."

Warriors blinks, confused, surprised, and a little disturbed.

You stare wide-eyed at the man before you, something about a war deity being so gentle is sweet. You're not sure you deserve it... but you appreciate it a lot.

"Thank you."

"They need to sleep still." Time says, "Ypu know what your mask does to people- did. What it did."

Fierce simply nods, "You had all better rest. I will keep watch as you sleep."

"I don't-" Warriors starts only for you to cut him off.

"Thank you. We do all need the rest." You say with a soft smile.

"Then you shoukd rest. I will keep you safe until you all are naturally rested."

[quinnthebard]

talking with a friend about my fav little bite bite, Astarion and I'm just thinking about how some people mod away so many of his, to me, most important features.

First a huge-ass disclaimer that I'm not advocating for people to stop modding, I am simply illustrating why I could never do that to my dude. You do you just like I do me. We'll just agree to disagree and coexist peacefully.

So like, I continue to be baffled about people who mod him to be physically different. Not like in clothing but like, his literal body? And I'm not even talking about the abs mod. That's small beans compared to some of the things I see. But like... part of his character is just how carved into his skin and his facial features his suffering has been. Ultimately, it's their game, I just cannot relate.

I love his laugh lines, I love the wrinkles. They show the good and the bad he's experienced. That he's lived and that's all he's ever wanted. To live. And to erase those lines are to erase evidence that he has and does.

But then even further, so much of his character story is about his relationship with agency over his own body and by modding it from the original, it's like taking that away from him. The player is deciding that as he is, isn't good enough for them and that's just so antithesis to one of the things he craves the entire time. Especially if you're doing a romance with him.

He has so much doubt in his self-image masked by his manipulation that he falls back on in an attempt to fulfill his other major desire: a need for safety.

And like, yeah sure, if you placate him in the mirror scene by giving him the superficial responses, he seems happy but if you give him the reasons he outwardly seems to dislike, you net the same approval. He doesn't just need the platitudes. He simply wants to be seen and in doing that for him, it makes him happy.

When I look at him, I see so much. I love his laugh lines and his curly hair and the way he seems just plain exhausted when he has his guard down but then when he begins to genuinely smile, it all sort of melts away and it's such a special, vulnerable moment. It's as if, for the briefest of moments, the weight of the world has lifted and man... it's the most beautiful thing.

Erasing the lines in his face, erases that from his character. And I love the whole of him.

[yxstxrdrxxm]

(#gdi. I'm crying, so we ball. I've been invested, so this hurts.)

Just, give these flowers to Eros, okay? I didn't know what he liked, so I got a bunch of different ones - some sunflowers, hibicus, and tulips in different colors and some coffee candy, for when he wakes up and gets better. It's probably not as good as the real thing, but easier to sneak in than an actual coffee cup.

And..Cupid. For you too. Here's a bento and some bread from the bakery, along with a few other giftcards to some grocery stores and stores. I take it you haven't really been sleeping or eating well after everything. And I figure this could help somewhat. One less thing to worry about. And don't worry, this is no strings attached. It's never easy to deal with something like this.. I hope it helps.

I lament that I cannot do more to help, but just know if you need to talk or need a friend to go on an errand with, I'll listen.

And I'd like to think I'm not alone there.

Or if you'd rather be distracted, I can help too.

Just take care of yourselves. Both of you, okay? We still have a lot to do- a lot to look forward to. Like going to all the animal cafes and petting all of them. And having a picnic.

...

"Thank you. I'm sure he'll like these. She always told me that her favorites were hibiscus, but it may be because of its meaning."

The soft beeping of the monitor echoed as Cupid stayed beside Eros. From the looks of things, they look so... Worn. Their previous joyous attitude had been robbed of nothing, and their eye bags were evident than the weeks without you seeing them.

It wasn't that bad before... Maybe they masked it with makeup, so you wouldn't see just how tired they are.

Holding Eros's hand, their eyes looked over at the flowers. They always admired Eros for what she's done, even when people seem to criticize her. So now that she's in danger...

...

"... I haven't left them ever since they were in recovery."

The doctors tried. They genuinely tried. However, Cupid was inconsolable. How could they? It was their friend that had their life on the line— obviously that wasn't an option.

"I didn't want to spend an hour without them— I fear that if I did, they'd wind up dead without my supervision," they explained to you, their voice weak as they held onto their unconscious friend. "It's... An irrational fear. I've always feared it happening, especially those dreams I've been getting."

Their trips with the hypnotist didn't help. Not in the slightest. If anything, it felt like it got worse— even to the point of being unable to sleep for days.

"I'm sorry you have to see me like this," they told you, holding back the urge to cry for the umpteenth time. "It's just... So much has happened from the weeks we spent working. My boss was being strict with what he wanted us to do for Valentine's, I couldn't go here for weeks... And this had to— it had to happen at the day I could even get access again."

...

They were struggling to not cry. It was clear with how they're blinking so much, even when you've left them gifts so they can eat and... Be able to care for themselves.

"... I'm tired. I'm exhausted for working over Celestia Inc.," they admitted. "I... Can't handle this. I can't handle losing a friend."

Ah, it seems you broke the dam. Though, they didn't seem to notice with how they're sobbing, trying to wipe their tears with the tissue that the nurses were kind to give to them.

Loss was never something they can handle. They could handle everything, but that is what they're so... Terrified of. That losing a friend is the thing that could make them grieve.

It, ironically, shows that even they have their limits.

"I— we— don't want to break our promise to you guys. I promised Eros that— that I'd resign when I'm done, that we will finally be able to leave with nothing attaching us to this sick company," they sobbed, their hand gripping on the tissue. "And yet— yet, they had to get hurt. Someone had it out to kill my friend!"

...

"I want this to stop... We want this to stop."

But we can't. Not anymore.

Unbeknownst to them, you see one of the hibiscus flowers lose a petal.

Even positivity can never reach a heart that's too deep in sorrow.

[kazeofthemagun]

😵‍💫

[Personal update below.]

[I'm sorry to all my rp partners for being so abysmal in my activity, bleh. I'm dealing with a flare up of my health issues and cannot function without sleeping 12-16 hours whenever I can. And by function I mean, 20% brain capacity, just enough to handle uni, do the essential chores, scroll a bit and go to sleep, only to wake up exhausted the next day.]

[I have good days and bad days when it comes to the excessive fatigue, so during some of the good ones I've been trying War/frame again but I can't seem to derive much joy from video games anymore. I was surprised I could even play it, to be honest - last time I did was around 2020 and my Long Covid (???) would cause nasty migraines from even minimal eye strain. I still get migraines, but it's a lot better now.]

[I've already had Covid at least thrice (I test everytime I feel ill, haven't missed a single booster) and I am not looking forward to inevitably catching it again, but I live with minimisers who keep bringing it home and nobody in Poland masks. I have genuinely not seen a single person masking in what feels like years. And that includes healthcare settings.]

[If this keeps up and I keep getting more exhausted I feel like I'm going to sleep my life away. 😵‍💫 Our society is such a failure.]

[suffering-is-cute]

the problem is, I know how to get you to love me

i've always been perceptive

and can work a pattern up from nothing

i have no excuse for falling in love with someone braver than myself

someone who doesn't need to be fixed

instead of the helplessly vulnerable you

who needs more than is yours to take

who needs a healer, with time to bind bandages over your wounds and patience to blend the tears away into your concealer

and i am not available.

the problem is, you are in love with a girl who does not talk.

her silence is the mirror of a rushing river in which you can see only yourself, and her voice rings clear to say the truths you hide from yourself,

no less ugly,

but framed in a way that it appears so beautiful.

the problem is, you fall straight for the nightmare which looks like a dream -

you are so eager for love that you declare you love her

because you don't have to think about her reaction to you

stranger and stranger,

you guess she sees virtue, value

you selfishly love to be genuinely yourself,

which means the less she says the more you love,

and you meander around topics that mean something to you without knowing anything about her.

the problem is, i know how to get you to love me,

and the more i act it out, the more i am convinced that you are not looking for a girl to love.

you want a doll to play with, made up into your ideal,

and you do not change for her.

she compromises for you.

the problem is, the more masks i wear, the more sick i become of you.

i promise, perhaps unnecessarily (I have told so many lies) that i did not mean to.

i truly did see you for who you were, only i don't think you ever saw me as rightly

not at my worst, not when i was flustered

not possessive, not exhausted, nor ready to give up

you haven't seen a me who loses control

running without inhibition, desperately

towards the only thing i love

no, i know you by heart

but you haven't uncovered mine.

the problem is, i have fallen in love with someone who is never here.

always wandering, always searching, for the face i can't even see clearly through familiar tears

the problem is, i cannot turn away those in need of love, even if it means lying to you and tarnishing your puremetal heart.

and i am so lonely in his absence.

so, devastatingly, incomplete.

words can't tell the half of it.

grief, carving the life away from me, so that I don't know how to say my own words anymore.

the problem is, darling, i'm waiting for someone who hasn't come back yet.

and a dawn is a dawn, no matter how bleak.

and a shawl is a shawl, no matter how thin.

oh, i am so good at feigning reciprocity that it is second nature to smile at you and imagine his face as your arms close sweet around me.

to bury myself in your problems like i am playing a game and this is a quest to be solved,

if only to forget for a while how he waltzes straight into the room and catches my eye

out of a million, the singular live coal.

out of a lineup of laughs, his the one that makes me feel like more than i am.

out of every choice open to me, oh God, oh dear God, i don't need to know what could have happened in any other life.

i don't need to know what could've been if i'd never met him or if anyone else had gotten to me first,

if only you will let me live this one life, with him here for keeps, this single coin

i would give up everything.

it sounds ridiculous, but for one who carefully considers every step, who deliberates,

and yet I say,

everything. every eventuality.

it is his, everything of mine,

he is the title of my history.

if you run your finger daintily down the spine of my heart, a thick and bleary tome gathering dust on the shelf, there is his name.

my life is a story with him at the center,

the worst thing a writer can be is in love.

the problem is, i know that i am using you in the same way as you are using me;

with more deception than is necessary and with gentle cruel wishes for you to stay in love with the world,

so, only for now, if you could while away the scraping and overwhelming edges of grief and loneliness biting tooth and nail into my skin,

hold the ceiling up like Atlas,

i will make you do it, flashing a conciliatory smile so bright you will wonder if there is any pain there at all.

i will make you do it, knowing that i hold your pain at bay the same way.

and you will think i am ignorant for loving you,

when really i would throw you over if i so much as sensed him walking our way,

even from a kilometre afar.

the problem is, we are craning so far forward off the balcony, looking for faraway loves, that we neglect to notice ourselves slipping off.

and there is only you here, and only me, so what is it if we grab hands to prevent ourselves from being dashed to pieces on the pavement below? what is it, really, if you and i share a kindred look of sorrow and a kiss we wish belonged to another?

the problem is, when they finally find us, we will be attached at the hip.

and knowing you so well, having loved you as a bosom friend, i will still let you go and dash straight into those long-awaited arms,

drinking the draught of love's utter completion,

and you, having endured so long and so much, will be left without a hand to hold as you continue to wait.

you, with your empty hand, flexing muscle memory over air where my hand should've been.

the problem is, i will leave you at the altar, and for the one who was gone for three-quarters of the movie.

i will be the second flame to burn your matchstick of a heart up.

and this time, there won't be anything left to incinerate.

it will be quiet and true, like the beginning of a fated legend.

one minute i will be in your arms, and the next, he will be in mine.

satisfactory, expected, sudden.

don't you get it, darling?

i will leave you anyway. i know you hope otherwise but i never change my choices and this was what i set my heart on and made my mind up for so long, long, ago.

you will be the end that serves as the start of my everything, and then the opening song's first notes will hum from my mouth.

when my wedding rolls around, i will write your name on a card. as if i have not hurt you enough, i will put it on the mail with a gentle rejoinder.

as if to stroke your pride as i always knew how to do, it's how you fell for me after all, I'll say-

I did love you, in my own way.

that is the problem.

i have a choice of who to keep loving, and i knew before i let you love me -

you were there to stretch my days.

if it helps, here's your straightforward answer. the only one you'll get from me.

you were never going to be my enough.

the problem is, i am already loved.

and you don't match up.

knowing this, i chose to let you love me.

you made it so easy, i just couldn't resist.

- don't feel bad; requisite lies,

lacunasbalustrade. 17. sep. 2023

@lacunasbalustrade mainblog, @suffering-is-cute poetry sideblog.

[concentratedbitterness]

The Lever

Somewhere on the North American Continent: Unknown Date in the Distant Future

“Damn it.”

A desolate wasteland spans before them in every direction, so long devoid of life that Nathan cannot help but feel the hollowness of its absence draining his soul.  His eyes burn; lungs filling with dead air that still smells faintly of ozone.  It’s hard to make out details in the dimness, and part of him is glad for that.  They’ve been here too many times before, and he already knows what he’ll find if he looks more closely.  Frigid winds whistle across the ashen landscape, numbing what skin they were careless enough to leave exposed and dampening the sound of Augusto’s voice. 

“--It’s alright.  We’ll try again.”

“We’ve tried again.  And again, and again,” Nathan replies sharply, not bothering to look back over his shoulder at the chronomancer.  “It’s always the same.  We failed.”

“In this timeline, yes,” Augusto concedes, stepping close enough to give Nathan’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze.  “So we’ll learn from it.  Adjust the plan.  Every failure brings us closer to getting it right.”  He forces an optimistic smile, and Nathan wonders if it’s the same one the other warlock painted onto his face for Rose as the flames consumed him all those centuries ago.  “I know we can do this.”  

The optimistic outlook isn’t contagious.  

“What if we can’t, Gus?” he asks, pushing splayed fingers back through the strands of long blonde hair that whip into his face.  “Maybe we need to consider the possibility that we aren’t gonna’ save this world, no matter how many course corrections we make.”  It’s a wasted effort; the wind keeps blowing and by the time his hand falls away it’s right back in his face again.  “Maybe it doesn’t wanna’ be saved.”

Disappointment shadows the other man’s expression.  “That isn’t true.  Zadkiel says there’s a way.”

“What way?  We’ve tried everything.”  But he knows before the declaration falls from his tongue that it is a lie.

Gently, Augusto hammers the point home.  “Not everything, Nathan.” 

He’s shaking his head on instinct, searching desperately for some retort more ironclad than the one which ultimately escapes him.  “Hm-mh, no.  No…That’s off the table.”

“Perhaps it is time we put it on the table.”

Nathan shoots his mentor a sidelong glare.  “No.”

“What choice do we have?”

What choice, indeed.  The cold is getting to him, he tells himself; his hand trembling as he reaches for the small crystal vial which hangs around his neck.  “We’re not havin’ this discussion.”

“Do you think she would choose this?” He gestures at the wasteland around them.

The question hits him like a brick to the head, and for a moment all Nathan can do is stare dumbly at his companion.  “--What?”  He quickly pivots to prickly defense, as he always does when this topic is raised.  “No.  No, of course not.  She never wanted this, you know that…”  Despite his admonishment, however, he knows the logic path the chronomancer is guiding him toward.  A frown tugs at his lips.  “We’ve been over this before, it doesn’t work.” 

Augusto’s sigh is a cloud of mist in the freezing air.  The man’s kind disposition is as genuine as anyone’s that Nathan has ever known, but his penchant for bluntness is less endearing.  “It didn’t work because you couldn’t go through with it.”

He isn’t wrong, but it still stings like an unfair accusation.  “What makes you think that’s changed?”

“What I think is that we are out of options.”  His voice softens, and Nathan can hear the old Castillian accent tugging on the end of his syllables.  “We’ve exhausted the alternative catalyst points on this branch, to no avail.  What remains is the one you refuse to consider.  I have to believe there is enough of my father’s soul inside of you to know when it’s necessary to do horrible things for the greater good.”

“Don’t trolley-problem me, Gus,” Nathan pushes back, not endeavoring to mask the bitterness in his tone.  “I can’t be the one to pull the lever.”

“Can’t, or won’t?  Look around you,” Augusto tells him, glass crunching under their feet as he tugs the younger warlock around to face him.  “If you can’t find it in yourself to pull that lever, this is the end of the line.  For everyone.”  

******

Waco, Texas: May 5, 2023

There is nothing inconspicuous about his targets, and even if he hadn’t known they would be here Nathan is certain they wouldn’t have been hard to find.  It’s a sunny spring day in Waco and the garden center is bustling with all sorts of people, but the dark-haired werewolf who looks like she could throw down with any number of the mundane rednecks in the vicinity stands out like a beacon in the crowd.  So, too, does the oversized toddler on her heels.  He grins to himself as he watches Luna tear a hibiscus flower free from a bush as she passes by and casually shove it into her mouth.  Some things never change.  The fond amusement fades from his expression when he spots the petite brunette in a powder pink sundress twirling obliviously a few dozen steps behind.

He waits until Audrey and Luna have turned the corner before he approaches and accidentally-on-purpose bumps his shoulder into the young woman’s back, interrupting her imaginary dance recital and sending her tumbling to the ground with a surprised yelp.  “Pardon me!” Nathan hurriedly supplies, reaching out to grasp her hand with a steadying one of his own before pulling her back to her feet.  “Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” he lies.  It all feels painfully unnatural; Rose is so much better at this sort of thing. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

The innocent laughter he receives in response breaks his heart.  “It’s okay!  I’m fine!” She insists, not the least bit perturbed by the dirt stains on her dress.

“I’m glad, but I’d like to make it up to you.  Can I maybe buy you a milkshake sometime?”

Her eyes go wide as saucers, “A milkshake?” She asks incredulously, “I love milkshakes!”

I know.  “Really?  What a coincidence, so do I…”

“Wow!  What are the chances?!” She exclaims without a hint of irony, and gives the stranger’s hand an awkward shake with her own like an overzealous child still learning the ins and outs of social norms.  “I’m Fig, what’s your name?”

“It’s nice to meet you, Fig.  You can call me Nate.”

She smiles at him, positively beaming, and he hates himself for smiling back.

[pariahsparadise]

heyy! congrats on 1k followers <3

could i get an 'aster' for harry potter pls? if you do marauders era ships i'd love that but golden is also fine x

my pronouns are she/her and i'm straight. i'm an enfp-t and a sagittarius with virgo moon & leo rising. i'm 5''3 with type 3a curly auburn hair, and blue eyes with a green tinge. i have a petite hourglass but i have hip dips lol.

i'm neurodivergent but i'm pretty good at masking - which means i'm constantly exhausted lmao. i would describe myself as witty, observant, fun, and genuine. i'm also hyper sensitive. i have been described as pretty intense before. if i was a colour i would be sage green or a mahogany. i have a big friend group but a small group of close friends who i trust with my life. i am open and trust pretty easily though.

i love 80s-90s music and fashion. i listen to queen and david bowie, and i love the arctic monkeys. i'm also into astrology, makeup, and physcology.

<3

you sound like an amazing person omg

i ship you with: REMUS LUPIN

out of all the marauders, james gets to know you first, because the two of you end up being partners on a potions project

after you ace the assignment because of your joint (well, mostly your) efforts, james invites you to celebrate your success with his friends

remus gets flustered the second he sees you, he thinks you're gorgeous and ends up stammering his way through a slightly awkward conversation with you

james and sirius give him hell over it later

but fortunately, you find him endearing

remus is a really calm and observant person, so he'd probably be able to pick up on your neurodivergency despite your masking, though it might take him a while.

this leads to him being one of the few people you don't have to pretend around, he becomes a part of your group of close friends

he's also great at helping you feel better when you're exhausted

you had a shitty day? no worries, he's got a bunch of blankets and snacks he stole from the kitchens set up in the astronomy tower so you can unwind

remus would listen to your rants/rambles about things you're passionate about with genuine interest, asks follow up questions and all

and he'd actually remember the things you tell him and start using it in general conversation

for example, he learns that james is an aries and tells him that it makes sense that he got sorted into gryffindor

james and sirius are like ???

remus is very respectful and serious when he asks you out, he makes sure you know of his little furry problem (did i really just say that) beforehand, so you know what you're getting into

will definitely try to isolate himself from you for at least a week whenever the full moon comes around, he cannot live with even the idea of hurting you

but it's ok, because you'll end up finding him and showering him in lots of love and reassurance, just like he deserves :,)

[tinamaetales]

Lights, camera, bitch SMILE! (even when you wanna die)

“'Cause I'm a real tough kid, I can handle my shit. They said, "Babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it" and I did…… I'm so depressed, I act like it's my birthday every day” - Taylor Swift, I Can Do It With A Broken Heart

“You’re in a good mood today!” My friend from work told me after I greeted her with a simple “good morning” the moment I arrived at our office. Little does she know that contrary to the cheerful greeting matched with a smile, I am actually breaking apart inside. The thing is, I have become so good at faking it that it looks genuine. Now, I am pondering how I managed to do this for years while life just goes on for everyone else. Crazy how one’s smile or tone of voice can hide so much. I guess Taylor Swift’s right when she said, “You know you’re good when you can even do it with a broken heart”

Fighting the stigma of mental health, especially in a country like the Philippines, is a long shot. While there has been progress in this matter, it is pretty obvious that the battle is far from over. In this country, opening up about your mental health struggles means you will be facing more backlash (pessimism instead of support) which I find ironic since this is also the same country who loves to yell about its “Christianity” When you open up about your mental health struggles, the common response is either they will question your faith or they will be dismissive of your pain. Oh, there really is no hate like Christian love.

Depression is not a choice. If there is something I can offer to the universe in exchange for a healed version of myself, I would have done that a long time ago. The thing is, people often judge you when you tell them that you have been struggling with depression. Some would even say this generation uses their mental health as scapegoat for “this and that” but they are wrong. I never chose to be depressed. I never chose to be filled with anxiety every single day. What people don’t realize is that for people who are living with depression, it takes everything in them just to show up each day. It takes everything in me just to get out of bed and show up at work. I don’t have a choice but to work because I am the breadwinner. If I don’t work, we will starve. And while I just silently accept the judgment of people around me because I cannot do much or I cannot contribute more at work, I just have to keep on wearing the mask of normalcy and pretend that everything in my life is under control. But damn, I just want to run away and scream at the sky. I am so tired of the kind of life I am living. I hate being depressed but this is the kind of illness that does not easily go away. Depression is not like a fever that would go away after 3 to 4 days of drinking medicine. Depression, for the majority of its sufferers, is a lifelong battle and sometimes, there is no guarantee of healing from it. For more than a decade now, I have been fighting this silent battle that, to be honest, I feel like I would soon lose. I am already exhausted despite learning how to live with it. But everytime I try to end my life, something will always snap me back and stop me from doing it. So, now I realized that I might actually be a strong person because I live life with a broken heart.

There have been numerous instances in my life when I thought I cannot handle it but I ended up doing it anyway because I simply do not have a choice. One of the most recent is when I still show up to work and continue doing my tasks acting as if I did not just cry my heart out the night before because I found out that my grandfather died. Crazy how I was weeping at home the moment my relatives from the province told us the news via phone call and I was still crying while at the shower and then the moment I stepped out the house the tears stopped and my face was back to its normal look. I arrived at work looking normal. I was doing my tasks while my heart was in deep pain. Every time my workmates strike a conversation with me, I just talk to them casually. No one suspected a thing. Nobody had the slightest clue that I was breaking inside. Hell, I was so good at this pretend game that sometimes it makes me feel like I am one of the fakest people on earth. But my everyday life is a greater example of “doing it with a broken heart” Every single day I face people with a smile acting as if everything is okay with me. And I guess that’s where my problem starts. My family, friends, and colleagues are all so used to seeing me always smiling and laughing that news of my struggle with depression seems to be so surprising. My own family does not believe me. My friends, some of them, are skeptical of my depression. In the end, you will always be alone in your struggle.

For someone who recently “came home” to God, I gotta admit that I felt embarrassed opening up about my mental health struggles. Usually, people’s assumption is you do not get depressed when you have faith. But, is it really a lack of faith on my part? I have faith in God, no doubt but acknowledging my own pain and wanting to seek professional help does not immediately mean that my faith is weak. Even God acknowledges our pain (prophet Elijah) Even Jesus, during his earthly ministry, knows what heartbreak is (John 11:35 - Jesus wept). My main conflict right now is how to have a stronger hold on my faith in God while facing the storm of depression. The rest of the world may judge me, including my family and friends, but one thing’s for certain, God will always embrace me despite being broken. I know that God acknowledges my pain and understands where I am coming from. Every time I feel like losing it again, I just keep on reading this verse from the Bible that has been the source of my strength these days: Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest Matthew 11:28.

Every time I look in the mirror, I truly cannot recognize myself. Am I a tough kid who can handle anything and survive everything? Or am I a masked person whose real identity is hidden from the world so that nobody suspects a thing about what is really happening in my life? Right now, I am trying my best to survive each day. I continue to smile at people even though deep inside there is a pain that is killing me. I continue to pray to God and ask for mercy even though there are times when I feel like I am not worthy to even talk to Him. I am navigating through life with a broken heart. Let me end this blog post with the outro lyrics from the same song I mentioned above, “'Cause I'm miserable And nobody even knows”

X,

TinaMae

[sgkjd]

ok i think i can try to be honest. with myself at least. how good are you really? how much do you actually care? how much do you actually like people?

just last therapy session i was talking about how i hate keeping in contact with some people that i deem not entertaining to me. it feels like such a terrible chore that i'd rather die than talk to them. and yeah, it's more true than i had realized. i guess my "friendships" are based on some sort of personal entertainment value. i don't really care about anything but the fact that it's fun for me. this is mean. i feel bad for this. i cannot pretend though. well, for some time i surely can, but in the long-run the facade crumbles anyways and i need to do the explaining part one way or another. sooner or later. can't keep fooling people forever since i run out of mental fuel to mask. that's one thing.

another thing is that my mask of presenting "more human" is fucking annoying and exhausting and i hate how much of an unconscious habit it is. i am a fucking hater of most things, i care only about my own opinions and i do believe them to be more right than other people's. most of the things in life don't make me feel anything special unless i sit down to craft the emotion manually. yes, at this point i've gotten so good at manipulating myself into having feelings. it's become such automation that most of the time i don't even notice i'm doing it. feelings are just responses to events, and if you know your own mind well enough you can just simulate the needed event for the feeling you wish to have. that's all.

i also don't care about most things. things happening in the world. things happening with me or to me, my boundaries. i don't have things i want to do, or maybe i just cannot recognize my needs – but does it make a difference? in the end i'm just meat and bones for others to use. and i'm genuinely content with being just that. it's predictable and clear. would choose a relationship like that over any other.

what i hate the most in life are things i cannot find a meaning for or a reason behind. second to that are things i do see a reason for but that reason isn't convincing enough and/or i find it stupid and useless. (includes social interaction stuff majorly). i know i am annoyingly categorical and i hate it but what i hate more is trying to hide it or smooth it out. i don't like how much effort that takes.

also. feelings piss me off so much. they're not liars in particular but they're also not some guides one must live their life according to. i have only 2 distinct major feelings: anything pleasurable physical sensory-wise and when something scratches my brain/mind. that's why i love music so much – i love how it feels in my ears and sometimes the lyrics do scratch a particular itch in my mind. everything else are just derivatives of these 2. i love putting together outfits because it's like a puzzle matching clothes together and a puzzle is a scratch for a brain. if success: pleasure for my eyes to look at. looking at other's outfits and appreciating them is also a pleasure for my eyes etc...

ok. this was a random and long brain dump. i do feel like i'm not going insane anymore though. so that's good.

[whowasnoone]

SURVIVAL.

A short letter about my story with depression for anyone that needs it.

Someone asked me recently after a very deep emotional conversation about the decay of my mental health and my S attempt in January:

"How are you doing so good right now? So fast?"

And while the question shocked me I realized I'm doing good because I stopped masking, because I talk about it with every person that genuinely wants to know, because I am open about my expirience and I validate my own feelings and thoughts.

The end result of that is a whole new person that I am genuinely excited to get to know. And hearing my new way of thinking, seeing how calm and patient I have become. How supportive and understanding I am towards my own emotions makes me proud of how much I have grown.

Destiny decided that its time for me to meet people from my past that were either toxic, I was toxic with them or we both were with eachother. I had that expirience last night.

I thought about the things that person can say to me to trigger a mental health decay. So many came up, so many that in the past could've destroyed me but with them a small voice in my mind came.

"You survived a battle with your strongest enemy, you cried night after night alone. You couldn't sleep, eat, you needed help to get out of bed, to take a shower, to go to the bathroom. You reached the last battle and were right there on the edge ready to give up and you survived. Whatever they say, whatever they think, whatever they do its nothing in comparison to that. Your life is not a gift from a higher power it is a choice you make every day when you wake up and every night you go to bed. So whatever they say or do and however that triggers you. Now you have the power to deal with it."

Those words coming out of my mind that has tried so hard to kill me for the last 17 years gave me the answers to that first question. "How am I doing so well?".

I won over my worst enemy and now it is my biggest champion. I finally give to myself the support I was searching for in others. I do not lie to myself during the bad days and I do not hide from them or try to escape. I choose every breath I take and every moment I expirience. I see the good and the bad of this world and myself and I stay.

To those that are going through their own decay. I cannot give you an advice on how to survive it. All I can say is that Hell exists and it is our own mind but it's not just black and white. There are so many colors to it. In our darkest moments we see nothing but the void. It's easy to loose yourself in it. But you are a soldier, you are stronger that all. You've seen the evil of this world, you've felt the agony, the fires of Hell for so many years and it is in that exhaustion at your last battle that you need to find the colors. A tiny spark of light. Rest, validate the emotions you are feeling, ask yourself "Why do I feel them? Where do they come from? When did this trauma start? Which part of me needs what?" and ask with no judgment.

Your mind can be your biggest enemy but it can also be your strongest champion. Overthinking when you see the colors becomes analyzing and this is the first step.

You are not worthless, you matter. And you are strong. You are special. Because every breath you take is your own choice. You will never take life for granted because you know the war, you know Hell. You will never be basic or the status quo because you are more.

Don't run, don't hide, don't give up. Seek help if you cannot do it alone. Find the colors.

You can do it.

[thecarriebradshawproject]

7/12/2023

Journaling has always helped me in my life. Ever since I got a My Secret Journal when I was a kid. I continued to journal here and there throughout my life, but I always come back to writing about my feelings.

Now that I am writing my feelings on a blog, I truly feel like Carrie Bradshaw (hence the name).

Anyways, I have been in a depression SLUMP! There was signs of it coming, but I didn't have the energy to fight it. It wasn't hurting anyone, but myself, if I sat around all day. Never did anything but numb my brain to get through my days. It really does sound depressing...

I have struggled with depression since I was in about 8th grade (woohoo the American education system failed me). I have struggled with anxiety my whole life, I just didn't realize it until later. This is mostly because anxiety presents itself very differently in children. I was constantly getting sick before school, I would cry A LOT, and I always remember my parents telling me I am like Charlie Brown... So yeah, I have always been an anxious person.

So, I will be 25 next month. My frontal lobe will finally be fully developed. That means it's all downhill from here, right? I mean, I love my career and I can see myself being at my company for years to come. However, it feels like every other aspect of my life is constantly in shambles.

I have some great friends and such a loving family, I really do, but I am not always the best friend or family member. I am not going to lie, I am the person who flakes (sometimes last minute), and I am not scared to turn down invites either. Which makes sense why I am not always invited to things. I really get it. But... I am still feeling so distant from everyone in my life. I get I am not in my hometown anymore, but we are all in the same state! And it feels embarrassing to reach out to someone and basically tell them that I am mentally unwell and I need their support in this not fun time in my life. Sounds like too much for me, so I can only imagine how other people would respond.

I try to keep conversation lines open, but it is so easy to get "busy" or distracted in adulthood. I get this is apart of life, but I cannot recall in my life when my parents did not have their friends around constantly. I remember my mom being on a bowling league, going to concerts, hosting card game nights. I remember my dad racing throughout Michigan, celebrating birthdays at bars, and his bestie would stop by for coffee on most Sunday mornings, even if it was just for one cup.

I love my parents friends and they definitely feel like family. I have joked before that I could show up to my parents' friend's houses unannounced and I would be accepted in with open arms and no questions asked. They all agree this would be true.

Now what do I do when I do not have friends? I know I have not gotten to that yet, but if it keeps going like this, I could see it happening. Can I make new friends with such strong bonds? Will I even make new friends? Will I always just be a miserable person?!

I don't try to be miserable, but I can't help it. I get so sunken into my depression, that I can't even mask it. I always drain poor Justin's energy. I know it can be exhausting dealing with dealing with poor mental health, and I am scared I will continue to push him away. I wouldn't want to marry someone who may just give up on life...

I am slowly sleeping and numbing my way through life. This is not what life is meant to be or at least I don't think it is. However, I have no idea how to fix the damage I have caused to myself... Or how to have a fulfilling life to start with... Is it money, love, family, a career, or maybe even traveling? Who knows? I sure as hell don't know.

Hopefully, I will start getting more direction/answers in life. Hopefully, I do not become a cranky depressed woman who dies alone. I want to be able to reflect on genuine happy moments in my life. I am terrified that it might never happen...

Wish me luck! I truly need it...

[deerydear]

Sometimes I think that a lot of tumblr-style feminist spaces actually have encouraged me to stifle my..... connection to other women. I mean this in terms of what I see as 'forced positivity'. I think this actually may be something from my own perspective that can allow me to see the world through warped eyes. ...but, to heal someone... the patient has to survive the cure. ...but again, to be fair to myself, I think there are people whom I don't vibe with at all, but I don't really have to care about that.

...but, okay, so they often talk about how women are raised in a misogynistic society. This is dual-pronged. The thing that I needed was to have a connection to someone like me, and I was misogynist... If anything, the type of social circles I was in after I 'discovered this generation's form of feminism'... aggravated the misogynistic seeds that were sown, and the flower came back with a vengeance. The thing I don't like... is that they pretend like everyone is only either 'man or woman', and that 'man and woman' have different psychologies... Yes, people are animals who have different reproductive roles. I don't know, I just feel like I don't get along with girls who hurt themselves, and talk down on themselves for being female, and I've seen this happen over and over in these feminists typa social groups, and it's even encouraged. In a backwards way, a lot of these affirmations that are made of self-worth are actually coming from a place of extreeeeeeme self-loathing. People who genuinely have never had any of these self-esteem issues can smell it from a mile away. .... and these types of people say, "oh, but it's only men who have never had any of these self esteem issues. Every woman should know what this is like!" Way to shoot your hope for a bright future in the foot. Of course there are women who haven't suffered like you. Of course there are other women who are different from you as an individual. Matter cannot be created, or destroyed... only changed shape. Everything you want, in the universe, already exists in some form... you just need to bring it together.

I suppose the problem that I smell is that many people still hate themselves, even underneath all the perfume and pretty shellac. It's obvious to others. If you hate yourself, be honest with yourself about it. The healing will come. It will be okay. Don't lie to yourself, or else that's like going to the doctor and saying, "I'M FINE! EVERYTHING IS GOOD! I FEEL GREAT!", when you are having serious symptoms of a disease. Tell the doctor of your mind. You don't have to tell anyone else, but be honest with yourself. You can keep everything to yourself. You don't need to be a billboard for the slogan of the week. I love you. If you hate yourself, and it's something that someone else taught to you... then karma will take care of it. I suppose the problem is the problem of willpower, because if someone genuinely believes that they don't deserve good things, deep down, then they can keep choosing to sink any ship that they get on... and that brings me back to why I don't vibe with so much stuff about these girls who espouse feminism while hating themselves... I don't judge... anyone can fall in a hole, but that doesn't give you the right to be a negative Nelly, or bring everyone else down with you in your doom-and-gloom fantasy. The world is a great place. If you want it to be. If you want it to be Hell, it can be Hell for you... but good people won't stick around for you. A good person wouldn't just sit there and watch you spear yourself over and over, but a good person may become exhausted... and decide that they can't help you if you don't choose to get better. Let me put it this way: When an airplane depressurizes during a flight, there's not enough oxygen in the cabin to support life. There are masks that pop down, which are connected to oxygen tanks. You are supposed to put your mask on first, and then help the people around you, if they need it. If one were to not put theirs on first, and then try to put someone else's on for them... before their own... They would most likely pass out, and maybe even die.

"I thought I was getting all the answers right. I thought I had outwitted you." This is what he says about how he felt while his brain was not getting enough oxygen. They were asking him stuff like, "What is 8-3?" He had said 4. When another man put his oxygen mask on for him, he immediately realized the answer was 5.

Here's my rambling for today. Just so it's understood... I do not think these people represent 'all feminists', and in fact I think that kind of arrogant... I believe a lot of these people, themselves, believe they represent 'all of feminism' as an idea, and they get angry and believe that feminism itself is being criticized, when they as people are criticized. This behaviour is a very human behaviour, and it has to potential to occur in anyone, if they allow it. I bring up feminism just because it's something I've had an interest in. I also just want everyone to be happy. I hate seeing people who lie. Whether it's to yourself, or others... it's the same thing. Whatever you do to yourself, you do to people with the same spirit as you. Remember that.

[basedasfk]

it’s so hard without you. I literally think about you all the time and I am losing myself. I’m losing it . I’m not too sure who I am to be very honest with you. I’m trying to be who I want to be.

I’m trying to do better for myself but am I just running away. Am I not facing my emotions without you? I think so.

I’m just so sad my heart aches everyday without you and I can’t run from it. From the moment I wake up I think of you. I think of you. My love why did you leave me. why did you leave me my love come back. it wasn’t supposed to end like this. this wasn’t part of the plan my love. we were supposed to be together, to have a small apartment with a dog and a cat together, you do the dishes I do the cooking. Please baby. please. I’m begging you. please. please please please please give him back to me. take me back to the way everything was. I was so happy. I was so genuinely happy and I thought I made it. I thought I found the one. I really genuinely thought this was it God. Thank you for bringing him into my life, we did so well together, I loved him so deeply and you knew that. You knew how much I loved him God. You knew he was my best friend, you knew how much I loved it when he laughed when he smiled it made my heart so warm. He made me realise that I could be kind and warm and all these things I never thought I could be.

And how much I wanted him to be strong. And I thought that by loving him regardless of anything he’d make it. He’d be strong in the end. And I could be with him together. Right? You’re not breaking up with me right my love. My love don’t go. Don’t go my love why are you leaving me. why? don’t go. please. My love.

….😔 I know you’ll never see this and maybe you’ll stop dreaming about me. I know you’ll find someone else and my heart literally cannot bear it. My heart would literally shatter if I saw you with someone else. Why’d you change ur profile pic to the one where that girl said you looked handsome? I always thought you looked like the sun. my beautiful sunshine. I mm trying very hard to mask my pain and it’s not going too well. It’s really not going well. And I don’t know what I’m doing right and what I’m doing wrong.

But I know it is a fact that you left. You left. He left. He left us. He left us. He left us Jeraldine he left us. Nononononono that can’t be. That cannot be we were supposed to have everything. We were supposed to prove everyone wrong we were supposed to conquer the world why did you leave? why didn’t you defend me? you knew how much I loved you when your brother asked you if I loved you. Why couldn’t you stand up for me? Why couldn’t you stand up for yourself?

I guess I couldn’t as well. I guess I couldn’t say for sure this is serious and I was going to marry you to everyone else because I was afraid I’d look like a fool. baobao I’m the biggest fool. I’m the biggest fucking fool.

I loved you so much tal. So so so so much. Did it really not reach you? did it really…. not matter in the end?

What is the lesson to all of this God? What is it? Why is it that every February some shit has to happen to me and I go on a downwards spiral? What is going on. Why. I don’t understand God. Do I trust you? In all of this? Can I trust you? Please. Please take my hand take my hurt take my soul it’s so icky I feel like it’s been squished and slimy and mushed together and what I pick it up with my hands it falls apart and lays on the ground.

Why’d I have to lose my best friends? Why’d I let people so close to my heart just for them to disappoint me. Again and again and again they disappoint me. I’m so exhausted.

All I pray for is that I can cry rather than holding it in all the time. God please help me cry.

[yesimwriting]

Solutions

A/n kinda a blurb that took me FOREVER bc my ADHD has been really bad today but people have been wanting more General Kirigan/Darkling x reader and someone requesting some the Darkling x reader angst so here it is :)

Summary: The Darkling comes to visit you while you’re half asleep

Warnings: implications of teasing if you squint but it doesn’t really go anywhere 

Something small in me registers the sound of the wooden door opening, the rest of me is too lost in sleep to react. The even footsteps are measured, deliberately soft. I can’t bring myself to stir, not even when I feel the duvet I’m covered with pulled down just enough to expose my face slightly. I’m still as soft fingers touch the side of my face that I’m not sleeping on. At first the touch is cautious and tactful, meant to be reserved, but then the touch brushes against my skin slowly. The touch feels so much like silk I can’t help but groggily incline towards it. He adheres to my silent request, adjusting his hand beneath my jaw and chin, patiently trailing his thumb up and down my skin. 

“You’re awake.” The accusation comes softly, lacking any kind of bite. 

I let out a long exhale. “No.” 

“Do you always have to disagree with me?” There’s an unusual graveness to his light scolding. 

I squint my eyes open slowly just so that I can glare at him. Always so dramatic. When my vision adjusts to the darkness of the room, I see that my instinctual analysis on his tone had been correct. He always seems to be touched by darkness, like the cost of controlling the shadows is something that can be physically seen. But there’s an extra edge to the gloom that clings to him, an exhaustion. It’s visible in the bags beneath his eyes and the way his pupils swallow the bit of moonlight that dares peer into the room. 

“Only when you’re being disagreeable.” My voice is drowsy, which is good because it masks my concern. He moves his hand off my cheek, I instinctually frown at the loss of contact but he’s quick to brush his fingers along my collar. “I don’t think you’re being disagreeable right now, though.” 

Something soft threatens to break across his expression. “No?” He keeps his motions tactful, tracing the outline of my shoulder and collar. “You seemed to think differently earlier.” 

He has such a talent for distracting me. “Why are you here, Aleksander?” 

At that, the corners of his lips pull upwards as he presses them together. The expression is so genuine something warm begins to flood my chest. His name on my lips alone is all it takes to crack the hard exterior he’s spent lifetimes curating. In an odd way it feels like a power, to be able to stir emotion in someone with a desire to be cold. 

He squeezes my shoulder lightly before placing one hand on the duvet that covers me. I say nothing when he pulls the blanket back entirely. “Say my name again,” he breathes, moving to sit on my bed so casually I almost doubt the oddness of it. “Please,” his voice reveals more than his words ever will. “I need to hear it.” 

I should not want to provide him any type of comfort, and yet my heart yearns to. “Aleksander.” 

He breathes out easily, relaxing like the name is physical contact. “I’m tired.” 

“Me too.” 

Aleksander turns, resting his back against a pillow. I should tell him to leave, I should send him away. He’s clearly not someone that should be trusted. Instead of doing that, I find myself rolling onto my back to give him the room he needs to lay down. What am I doing? Aleksander says nothing, he only turns over to lay on his stomach before stretching an arm out lazily, hand settling on the hem of my nightgown. 

“What are you doing?” 

He brushes his hand upwards, testing the waters as he hints at pushing up my nightgown. “Do you think me a monster without redemption?”

The question is so sudden and genuine it’s practically a blow to the chest. “No.” I answered too quickly, a part of me desperate for him to understand how much I mean my answer. “Sometimes I wish I did.” 

The unnecessary addition leaves his eyes burning. I won’t elaborate no matter what he does. I can’t. To explain to him the extent of my attachment would be to let him see the way he’s burrowed himself into my heart despite my desire to loathe him. 

Aleksander must know that I have no intentions to explain my words because instead of replying immediately, he moves his hand up and down my upper thigh gently. It takes all of my concentration to not let my breathing hitch. “What do you mean, Little Dove?” 

He keeps his voice patient as he continues to trace his fingers across my skin in what is meant to seem like a thoughtless pattern. However, I know his motions are calculated because with each second of silence his fingers edge closer to the inside of my thigh. 

“If I could convince myself you were some kind of irredeemable monster,” when I stall, his fingers continue to inch towards my inner thigh, forcing me to inhale sharply, “I’d be able to walk away from you.” He pauses. “But I can’t.” 

“I am what I am because I have to be.” Those words are all it takes for his typical exterior to return. 

I press my lips together. “If you’re going to be the way you are with everyone else than leave, I’m too tired to deal with that right now.” 

Aleksander draws his eyebrows together. The look he gives me is so pained with conflict I have to stop myself from reaching for him. I close my eyes, hoping that he’ll take it as a sign to do anything but continue this conversation. My desperation to not hold onto the way I see him is a testament to my attachment. It’s naive. 

I hear his motions and a part of me longs to ask him not to leave. The bed dips, his warm breath is on the side of my face, near my ear.“Sometimes I think I may be a monster and then I see you at my side.” His whispers leave goosebumps across my skin. “And I think someone as good as you would never be at the side of a true monster.” 

The words chip away at the last of my resolve. A skeptical part of me wonders if his words are meant to manipulate me the way he manipulates so many others. But his voice had been so raw, so desperate--I don’t think anyone could manufacture such feeling into words. 

“Aleks I don’t think I could leave your side if I wanted to.” He moves his hand easily, never losing contact with my skin as he settles his palm on my hip. “But I can’t support what you want to do.” 

The silence is a thick fog in the air that will never sit right in my lungs. “Then just stay.” 

We have not reached a solution. Perhaps a solution cannot be reached when the problem is...what? Infatuation? Adoration? Love? Yes. There is no resolution for any of those things because emotions rooted in care are much more dangerous than feelings rooted in hatred. 

“Yes,” I whisper, placing a hand on his back, “I’ll just stay.”

--

General Taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper @grishaverse7 @lonelystarship

[pietrotheavenger]

learn to love

chapter 13 - fated

summary: steve and y/n don’t get along. now, they have to.

pairings: au!steve rogers x fem!reader

warnings: alcohol, swearing, angst

a/n: y’all i hate writing dialogue heavy chapters but here you go!

series masterlist

steve’s eyes were glued on y/n as she went around greeting everyone. she looked different. he couldn’t place why. her gaze would flutter over to his, before being returned to whoever was at hand. she did not process the interactions that she was making as her thoughts were occupied by him. she missed him so much she could burst. she needed him like she needed air.

and then, she reached him. he had been dreaming of this moment for months. “steve,” she exhaled, softly smiling. he looked different, healthier. he grasped her hand and pulled her in for a hug. he couldn’t help himself. everything in his body was screaming at him to just hold her. he held her with a desperation, one that she felt. for a second, it felt like everything was going to be alright. then, reality came crashing back.

she pulled away and opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted. “y/n, i’ve heard many things about you.”

she ripped her eyes away from steve and to the man on his right. “oh, thor!” she couldn’t mask the surprise in her voice.

“yes,” the long haired man beamed.

“listen, i’m sorry for not replying to your text. i’ve had a lot on my plate,” she stole a look at steve who had involuntarily quirked an eyebrow. “with work and all,” she added.

hope sparked in steve’s heart. she didn’t text thor. did this mean that she felt something for steve? then, a second realization dawned on him; she never sent him a request for the money. there had to have been a reason aside from being busy or forgetting.

as fate had a funny way of conducting its business, y/n ended up sitting in between steve and thor at the dinner table. she anxiously played with the ends of her hair, keeping her focus on the glass of wine in front of her. thor would occasionally chatter to her but she would reply with short answers.

steve could see that she was obviously nervous. he wanted to comfort her but the words evaded him.

“more wine?” sam asked the guests, holding out a bottle.

“please,” y/n raised her glass. “steve?” she glanced over her shoulder to him.

“uh, no,” he cleared his throat, “i actually quit drinking.” he leaned back in his chair, searching her expression.

“oh, that’s good. i’m happy for you,” she gave him a genuine smile. “takes a lot of willpower. a lot that i don’t have,” the exhaustion was evident on her face.

“well, i just smoke weed now,” he shrugged.

she burst into laughed and he felt his chest swell. “trading vices,” she joked.

the corners of his mouth lifted and his posture relaxed as sam refilled her glass. “so, how have you been?” he asked.

she angled her body towards him and answered, “it’s been rough but i’m pushing through.”

“it’s been rough for you? you’re the one who-” he sat straight up, his gestures becoming erratic before she cut him off.

“this is not the time or the place for this conversation,” she lowered her voice.

“when is? when are we gonna talk about how you curb-stomped my heart?”

“curb-stomped?” she scoffed, “you’re taking this a bit far now, steve.” he was getting her riled up in only the way that he could.

“no, i’m completely serious. you basically RKO’d me in my feelings,” he crossed his arms over his chest, scowling.

“well, i cannot take you seriously if that’s the vernacular that you’re choosing,” she shook her head.

“that’s the problem! you never take me seriously.”

“it’s not a party if y/n and steve don’t argue,” natasha smirked from across the table.

a chorus of denials was heard from the two. “oh no, we were just chatting, like two civilized human beings,” y/n shot a glare at steve before giving the redhead a charming grin.

“somethings just never change,” sam laughed.

the rest of dinner went by without any major hiccups. slowly, everyone left one by one. natasha left as she had work early in the morning but y/n stayed back to help clean up. she was finishing up loading the dishwasher when she heard something clatter. she flinched and turned around. steve had dropped a spoon.

“oh, you scared me,” she pressed a hand to her chest, “i thought you left.

“still here,” he gave a small smile. he picked the spoon up off the ground and handed it to her. she put it in its spot, threw in a detergent pod, and closed it.

“i think that’s everything,” she sighed.

“alright i just sorted out the recycling. i think that’s the last of it,” sam closed the front door behind him, “thanks for staying and helping out. i’d offer you a ride home, but i had a couple glasses of wine.”

“no worries, i’ll just get a uber or whatever.” she turned around to wipe her hands.

sam looked at steve, expectantly. what? steve mouthed. sam made a driving motion with his hands and then pointed at her. steve gave him a panicked look.

“well, i should call an uber,�� she turned back around.

steve cleared his throat and said, “i can give you a ride home.”

“oh, i’ll be fine,” she waved him off.

“y/n, it’s late. let me drive you home.”

she looked at him and released a deep breath. “okay,” she nodded.

and so, the pair was off. she felt a weird sense of deja-vu, sitting in his passenger's seat. she sat, stiff as a board. “you can relax. i don’t bite,” he chuckled.

she let her shoulders drop. “sorry,” she mumbled.

“for what?”

“everything.”

the rest of the ride was silent. mostly because neither of them knew what to say. he pulled up to the curb outside her apartment and put the jeep in park. in the time she grabbed her purse and double checked she had everything, he had hopped out of the car and opened her door. “thanks but you don’t have to walk me up. i’ll be fine,” she told him once she had exited.

“it’s late. i should.”

“it’s fine.”

“why won’t you let me help you?”

at his response, she sucked in a breath. “you can walk me up, then.”

“no, honestly. why do you keep pushing me away? i know everything that went down in boston was real. there’s no way in hell you faked that behind closed doors.” he stuffed his hands in his pockets so that she wouldn’t see they were shaking.

“steve, i’m tired-”

“no. i deserve an answer.”

“i don’t know.”

“yes, you do.”

“fine!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “i’m fucking scared because i’m not good enough for you. if we started dating for real, it’ll just be a matter of time until you see that.”

“y/n,” his voice softened, “what would make you think that?”

“have you seen your family?! you guys are like a hallmark movie. i would never fit in.”

“but you did fit in,” he took a step closer to her. “they all loved you.”

“no, steve. they loved the lie.” she began pacing, bringing her hand up to twist the ends of her hair.

“the only thing that was fake was the label on us. you didn’t change anything about yourself.”

“still. how will they react when they find out the truth?”

“who gives a shit?” he spread his hands. “i want you and you’re more than good enough. i don’t know what else to tell you.”

“if you want me then why are we always arguing? it won’t work.”

“we’re always arguing because i’ve wanted you from the minute i laid my eyes on you, y/n. you had a boyfriend when we met. what was i supposed to do? ruin your relationship?”

she stopped in her tracks, locking his eyes. “i-” she began but then stopped. she reached up to rub the spot between her eyebrows. “i can’t have this conversation,” he grimaced at her words and turned his head away as she continued, “when i’m not sober and it’s 2 in the morning.”

“there’s always something with you. are you just gonna put us off forever?” he clenched his jaw. he wanted her so badly. he couldn’t understand why she couldn’t get it through her head that he didn’t care about anything else. the whole world could end, but if he was at her side then it would be a blissful death.

she ran her hand through her hair and shrugged. “i don’t know anything, anymore.”

“okay then, let’s get inside. i’m not gonna freeze my ass off for no reason.”

“so you’re saying you want me, but this is not reason enough?”

“oh my god, y/n. i’m laying my heart out in front of you and you keep finding new ways to fuck with it. what do you want from me?”

“i’m sorry,” she shook her head, “i’m just not in the right state of mind. we’re gonna keep going in circles.”

he nodded then gestured toward the door. she brought her lip between her teeth and then let it go with a sigh. he wanted nothing more than to just grab her and kiss her. but, she turned around and went to put in the code on the keypad. he followed behind her. the elevator ride up to her floor was silent. they got to her apartment. she unlocked the door. when she stepped in, he turned to leave.

“steve,” she said.

he glanced over his shoulder, back at her. he felt hope, for a moment.

“text me when you get home.”

infinity tags:

@ssweet-empowerment ; @stardustandbucky ; @abuckyrogersworld ; @freightcarcap ; @c-a-v-a-l-r-y ; @coffeebooksandfandom ; @somethingmoreclever ; @2dreamcatcher8 ; @illegalportkey ; @fuckthatfeeling ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @tuliptx ; @wwhitewwolff ; @thisismysecrethappyplace ; @appreciating-chase-brody ; @maladaptive-ninja-returns ; @marvelrose ; @sophiealiice ; @galacticstxrdust ; @fitzsimmons-is-forever ; @dumblani ; @i-padfootblack-things ; @pinknerdpanda ; @marvelssluts ;

learn to love tags:

@youunravelme ; @cailin-lefantasy ; @clockworkherondale ; @clean-and-claire ; @denzmallows ; @ibxxmc-blog ; @itsallyscorner ; @brujademente ; @dusuncelidusuncesiz ; @complete-trash-101 ; @radical-gecko ; @liebestraume-e : @cruelsummer-s ; @myoneandongly ; @dontbescaredtosingalong ; @chelricki96 ; @vicmc624 ;