#this one is a lighter one. lots of personal emotional turmoil (as expected from something i create) but not too much other stuff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yukidragon · 3 years

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Our Life Snippet - Adrift

So... time for more first draft novelization clips from Our Life: Beginnings & Always by @gb-patch. As always, I want to thank all of you who like these clips I'm sharing here, especially this lovely game's equally lovely creators. It's all so motivating for me to keep going with this passion project.

I noticed that there’s been some call in the tags for some fanfiction of Cove comforting Jamie, so I think I shall oblige that desire... by starting off with the hurt part of the classic hurt/comfort equation. After all, comfort isn’t as satisfying without showing why it’s necessary, don’t you think? ;3

Don’t worry, the comfort half will be posted soon. It’s just showing the whole thing at once is wayyy bigger the usual slices of snippet offerings I toss up here. It’s a lot bigger than usual even when sliced in half like this.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy my take on the moment from Step 2 that started me writing this novelization in the first place - Family.

...

The air in the house felt stifling. It wasn’t an overly hot or humid day, but the air felt too thick. The lack of oxygen made it hard to think straight. Jamie needed to go outside. She needed to get her thoughts in order. She needed someone to talk to about this, someone who could help her sort her head out so she could figure out what she could do about all of this.

She needed Cove.

Jamie returned downstairs. She caught sight of her mothers standing around at the kitchen counter while Lee sat awkwardly alone on the sofa, but her gaze slipped away from them quickly as she kept walking towards the door.

“I’m going out,” she said before worrying that the abrupt statement might give her family the wrong impression. “Just for a little while.” She threw her moms another carefully crafted smile, but still didn’t meet their eyes. “I’ll be back before it’s really late.”

Neither Noelani nor Pamela said anything, merely nodding at their daughter. They trusted Jamie to make the best call for what she needed right now. Jamie loved them for that.

“I love you,” Jamie said as she opened the door, but she didn’t give her parents a chance to respond in kind before closing the door behind her.

The walk to Cove’s house never felt so far. Jamie ached to see him. She needed to be with him. Right now. She was at a loss for what to do with her family, her thoughts adrift in a stormy sea. But if she was with Cove, somehow it would be alright. She was sure of it.

Jamie readied to knock even before she reached the front step, but a voice stilled her hand just above the door.

It was muffled, coming from inside the house, but she recognized the voice as belonging to Cliff. She couldn’t make out the exact words, but he sounded jovial, obviously having a good day. A moment later, a lighter, more tinkling voice answered with equally good cheer - Kyra.

Jamie took root on the doorstep of the Holden household. She wanted to see Cove. She needed to see Cove. Yet, in order to see him, that meant talking to his parents. His parents who only recently started being friendly to each other in front of him. She could just see them smiling at her if either one were to answer the door, oblivious to the turmoil in the Leimomi household, asking her about how she was doing and what was going on.

Why did that terrify her so much?

What if they noticed something was wrong? What if they asked her about it? She couldn’t tell them about what was going on with her sister. It was too personal. Yes, she liked Cliff and Kyra - they were great people, they were Cove’s parents, and their families were close - but this was a step too far.

Telling Cove that Elizabeth was heartbroken about losing the family she was born to was one thing, but Jamie couldn’t confide something so personal to anyone else.

Besides, things were already rocky at the Holden household. They were just starting to be alright again for Cove, despite the rough patches that hit this summer.

The worst of which being when Jamie herself opened her big fat mouth and told Cove about the twenty dollars.

Jamie dropped her hand, letting it hang limply at her side. She still ached to be with Cove, but she couldn’t, not until she could be sure she wasn’t simply tossing another emotional hand grenade in his lap just to make herself feel a little better.

Cove deserved better than that.

Jamie had barely dragged herself two steps away from the door when it opened behind her. She jumped at the sound of Kyra’s voice, no longer obstructed by the door.

“I’ll be right ba… Huh?” Kyra blinked, clearly surprised by Jamie’s presence on the way out to wherever it was she was going. She brightened immediately, however. “Oh, hi Jamie.” She smiled knowingly, not that the blue-haired girl could see it. “Are you here to see Cove?”

The words got stuck in Jamie’s throat as she panicked for a moment, scrambling for how to answer. All she had to do was say ‘yes’, but…

Jamie couldn’t handle the feeling of Kyra’s questioning gaze on her, piercing through her back. Kyra was expecting to see her usual smile and friendly demeanor, but she couldn’t be that right now. Her attempts at a smile felt too tight, too unconvincing, so she kept her face turned away from Cove’s mom, her eyes glued to the pavement as she forced herself to take another step away, then another.

It was hard for Jamie to sound normal when she finally forced words from her tight throat. “I… I’m just… walking.”

“Really?” Kyra asked, the disbelief in her voice clear as she watched Jamie walk away with a gradually increasing pace. “Okay then. I guess he’ll see you later?”

Jamie merely nodded as she forced herself to keep moving.

Time passed without meaning as Jamie focused on her feet as they led her forward. Where she was going, she had no idea. Her only plan had been to talk to Cove. Without that, without him, she felt as though she had been cast adrift in a stormy sea with no sign of land in sight.

Whenever a familiar resident of Sunset Bird gave Jamie a typical greeting as she passed them by, she pretended not to hear them, carefully avoiding looking in their direction. Their eyes lingered after her with silent questions she didn’t want to answer, she could feel them clinging to her skin even after she left the roads behind.

The eyes of tourists weren’t much better. There were so many of them when her feet crossed from grass to sand. Fortunately, the tourists didn’t care to talk to her, particularly to potentially ask her probing questions. They didn’t know her or suspect anything was going on with her. They would have no idea about what was troubling her or the turmoil happening with her family. They wouldn’t care to ask her about them. They were just there to have fun at the beach then leave. They were little different than noisy shadows she drifted past.

Except for their eyes. Jamie could feel their eyes following her too.

Jamie did her best to focus more on the sound of the waves crashing against the shore instead of the chatter of people enjoying the last few minutes of the sun’s rays, or the noise inside her head. Her thoughts came erratically, constantly interrupting each other and overlapping until it all garbled together into something like radio static.

Jamie kept walking. It was all she could do.

What did Jamie think she was going to say to Elizabeth anyway? ‘Sorry, sis. My parents are dead too. Do you want a hug?’ It was absurd to think she could’ve talked to her sister sooner when she couldn’t even think straight now.

What if something awful had happened to Elizabeth to make her want to see her biological parents?

What if Elizabeth wanted to be with her biological parents instead of them?

And what of their moms? They must have felt miserable because of how Elizabeth lashed out at them. They didn’t deserve that. Neither did Elizabeth.

Everything was awful. The world was crashing down around Jamie, and she had no idea how to help anyone. She couldn’t even do something as simple as see Cove, which came as naturally to her as breathing. A day like Cove was a day without sunshine. She felt cold, an empty part of her inside aching for him more than anyone else.

But Jamie wasn’t the one who needed comfort right now. She was fine. Biological parents weren’t something important to her. They had never been important. What was important was her family. Elizabeth and their mothers were suffering. She had to fix this.

The question was how. How? How?!

When the tourists thinned out, and Jamie could finally raise her head without risking catching anyone’s eye, she turned her gaze to the water as her feet continued to propel her forward. She watched the waves rhythmically crash along the shore, the water stretching out along the wet sand, her feet occasionally caressed by foam as she kept walking until finally she was sure no one would see her anymore.

The only one she wanted to see right now was Cove.

The water wasn’t blue, but instead a striking shade of pink shifting slowly to orange. Jamie watched as the orange gradually transitioned to purple. There were few things as beautiful as watching the sunset over the water.

Would she have ever seen a sunset like this with her biological family?

Vaguely, Jamie recognized the area her feet carried her to - it was one of the sections of beach the tourists rarely ventured, a place the locals enjoyed. Certainly, it was one of the more out of the way spots, one mercifully empty of anyone but her. It was one she had been to before with Cove when other parts of the beach were crowded. It was someplace that would be perfect to have fun together, just swimming, surfing, playing volleyball, or…

Would she even like those things if she wasn’t a Leimomi?

Jamie finally stopped walking. She focused on thoughts of Cove, but even those filled her with regret. She wanted to see him so badly. Why didn’t she just see Cove when she had the chance? All it would have taken was just a single word to Kyra. She had managed some, so what was one more? All she had to do was say so and things would be better right now, she knew it. Why couldn’t she even handle something so easy?

Why could Jamie never say what she really wanted? Why was it just so hard to say that she wanted to be with Cove?

If her original parents hadn’t died, she never would have met him.

Or her moms. Or Elizabeth. Or Lee. Or everyone else.

They would be strangers. Everyone important in her life would all be strangers. They wouldn’t know her, couldn’t love her. They wouldn’t even know she ever existed.

And… it would be the same for her towards them. She wouldn’t be able to feel anything for them just like she didn’t feel anything for her dead birth par…

Jamie covered her mouth and bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, feeling her stomach roil in rebellion despite how empty it was.

When Jamie got the urge to retch under control, she took a deep breath until her lungs ached before letting it out slowly and shakily. She tried to quiet the screaming static in her mind by focusing on the scenery around her.

It was a futile effort, but it was all she could do.

Jamie kicked off her sandals, abandoning them somewhere in the direction away from the shifting tide. She focused on the cool, wet sand beneath the soles of her feet, squishing between her toes. The water caressed her, washing the sand away and pulled her towards the sea. The feeling was intimately familiar, almost playful. It tempted her to swim. The idea of floating in the water, letting her worries drift away with the tide felt so appealing to her chaotic mind.

But the last thing her moms needed was to deal with her coming back in soaked clothes covered in sand on top of everything else.

Jamie breathed in deep, focusing on the scent of saltwater carried on the wind. The ocean was soothing, it always had been. The way the color changed with the time of day was endlessly fascinating. It had become blue again once the sun disappeared completely, but instead of the beautiful greenish blue of the day that always reminded her of Cove’s eyes, it was the deep rich blue of night. The surface of the water, far off in the distance where the waves tapered off to nothing, was a mirror reflecting the sky as it settled into its final hue for the day.

She had to get herself together if she was going to be of help to anybody.

At some point, Jamie found herself seated on the ground, close enough to feel the waves caress her feet, but just far enough away that she wouldn’t get her pants or skirt wet. She could brush the sand off later so she wouldn’t track it in the house.

Was Elizabeth still in her room crying and wishing for a life that had been stolen from her? A life without her or their moms?

Were their moms beside themselves with worry that their family was falling apart at the seams?

Why was Jamie just sitting here when her family was suffering? She should be back at home doing… something at least. They needed her help, damn it!

Did she even deserve to be here at all?

...

Cove was having a great day. Despite the rough start to the summer and the rough patches that happened on occasion since, it had been like a dream for him to have his family back together, even if temporarily.

Today, Cove and his dad had the opportunity to show his mom many of the things about Sunset Bird that made living there so enjoyable. There had been a couple awkward moments here and there, but they had been few and far between, giving the three of them a rare day filled with smiles, sunshine, and laughter. Fishing, shopping, tennis, and even some time at the beach had left the three of them in high spirits.

Now they were back home together were back home, hungry and eager for dinner, which his dad was only too happy to provide. The conversation the three of them had while eating was light, as the tension that hung in the air between them faded little by little as they spent more time together.

The only downside to having a fun day out with his parents was not being able to see Jamie. Cove resolved to remedy that after dinner.

“You know, I saw Jamie earlier,” Kyra said in an off-handed manner.

Cove clanked his silverware against the dish. The timing made his face warm a bit, but he paid rapt attention to his mom.

“It was right before dinner,” Kyra said. That meant it was only half an hour ago at most. “It’s funny, I thought she was coming to see you, Cove. She was right outside the front door, but I guess she was just taking a walk on this side of the street.”

“What?” Cove said, his eyebrows raising.

That was strange. Why didn’t Jamie ask him to join her if she stopped by the house?

Cove turned to Cliff. “Did you hear her knock, Dad?”

Cliff shook his head and threw his son a grin. “Nope, and trust me, I wouldn’t have missed it.”

Kyra gave Cove a knowing look, her smile taking a teasing bend to it. “Oh, I already asked Jamie if she wanted to come in,” she said before her smile faded a little. “But I guess she was really set on taking that walk. She said she’d see you later though.”

It shouldn’t have struck Cove as strange as it did, but he knew Jamie better than that. If she was just going on a walk and already at his house, there’s no way she wouldn’t have asked if he wanted to join her. If she was busy with an errand or something like that, then he would understand, but just a walk? It wasn’t as if she could’ve mistakenly believed that he wasn’t home if his mom thought she was stopping by to visit.

Something about this didn’t sit right with Cove, no matter how much he tried to tell himself that he was just overthinking things. It made him that much more determined to stop by and see Jamie as soon as possible.

With his dinner finished in record time, Cove was quick to excuse himself to head next door. He pretended not to see the looks his parents gave him and outright ignored the comments they threw his way that held a teasing note to them.

It took a little longer than Cove liked before someone answered at the Leimomi house. Pamela stared at him after opening the front door, startled by the sight of him, but a moment later she managed a smile, though it was feeble and forced.

“Oh, hello, Cove,” she said. She sounded tired.

“Hi, Mrs. Leimomi,” Cove said with an awkward smile of his own.

“Sorry, but Jamie isn’t here right now,” Pamela said before Cove could even ask the usual question.

Jamie was still out on that walk? It was already after sunset.

“Did she say where she was going or when she’d be back?” Cove asked, with growing unease.

Silence stretched between them, heavy and uncomfortable. Pamela looked past Cove to the street for any sign of Jamie returning home, but there was no sign of her absent daughter. “No,” she said eventually, though she was still looking past him. “Sorry, we don’t know where she’s gone.” She sighed and shook her head. “Don’t feel like you have to sit around waiting for her. We don’t know when she’ll be back.”

That set Cove on edge. “What?!” he blurted out, his eyebrows shooting upwards. “Why?”

Pamela hesitated, reluctant to speak. She glanced back at the house towards the kitchen where Noelani was holding a mug of something hot and soothing. Their eyes met, and although her wife was too far away to hear the conversation, it wasn’t hard to figure out what it was about. She waited for Noelani to nod at her before looking back at Cove.

“Jamie… needed to get away for a while,” Pamela said, the words coming out slowly as she chose them with care. “She’ll probably see you tomorrow.”

Every word was like a lead weight that sunk into the pit of his stomach, and for a moment Cove could only stare at Pamela, scarcely breathing. The word ‘probably’ stood out in particular, prodding into him with its sharp edges.

Something happened to Jamie today, something bad.

Something bad enough for her to not want to see him, not just today, but maybe tomorrow too.

Cove was off like a shot. He didn’t even think to give the usual parting pleasantries to Pamela before he was running. He had to find Jamie.

The first place Cove went was poppy hill. It was the obvious choice. Jamie had been coming here practically every morning this summer to play her guitar, but there was no telltale sound of music on the wind. The hills were empty.

Next was the playground, but no one was there either. Cove practically would’ve welcomed seeing Jeremy there at this point, if only to ask if the crabby boy had seen Jamie at all that day.

Cove shot down going to the shopping district or any location deeper in the heart of Sunset Bird. If Jamie was trying to get away from everything so badly that she was avoiding even him, then she wasn’t going to want to be around people right now.

That left only one real place left to search. Cove took off sprinting along the beach as fast as his legs could carry him. There was a lot of ground to cover.

#Our Life Beginnings & Always #Our Life #ourlifeba #Jamie Last #Cove Holden #Pamela Last #Noelani Last #Lee Last #Cliff Holden #Kyra Preece #My Writing #Jamie Leimomi

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chancelloramidala · 3 years

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Staring at the Sun ➤ Evan Buckley

Chapter Three: Why Heart? Why?

Masterlist

Karen was in the kitchen doing the dishes when Hen came in grabbing a bottle of wine from the case and two glasses. “Hey, baby, who’s here?”

Hen shot her wife an exasperated look. “My co-worker, Marceline.” then she eyed the case of alcohol they had and debated if they would need something stronger.

“Oh, the brooder?” Karen raised a brow as she finally turned the water off after cleaning to soap suds off of the plates, recalling how her wife had gone on long tangents multiple times about the mysterious Marceline Pierce who held everyone at arm’s length.

“Yeah,” Hen chuckled before picking up a bottle of whiskey. Might as well go all in. “She ran here, I didn’t even know she knew where we lived.”

Karen shrugged with a small amused smile on her lips. “Maybe she just needs a friend right now. You go on now, I’ll put Denny to bed.”

Hen smiled at Karen’s generosity. “Thanks, babe,” she walked over and gave her wife a quick peck on the lips before heading off towards the living room.

Marceline sat in one of the comfy chairs and hugged one of the throw pillows to her chest. She took in the living room she was in, focusing mainly on the pictures that littering the walls of Hen and her wife, Karen, and their son Denny. They looked like a happy family in her own opinion as a thought popped into her head, You’re disturbing their family time together, Marceline. Her head shot up when she heard Hen come in, carrying two bottles of alcohol and some glasses.

“Hey, um, sorry for intruding on you like this… I know you’re probably busy and shit,” Marceline fiddled with the frills on one side of the pillow she was hugging, feeling selfish for coming here in the first place.

“Pfft,” Hen shook her head as she walked over, laying the bottle of red wine and whiskey onto the coffee table before finally taking a seat across from her on the couch. “It’s fine, we already finished dinner and just cleaning up. It was just a little surprising but, I don’t mind, Marceline, really.” she gave the other woman a small smile that softened into a grin. “Plus, I didn’t really know what to expect so I brought both red and whiskey, take your pick.”

Marceline eyed Hen for a moment before slowly reaching for the whiskey and pouring herself a nice, long glass of amber liquid. Hen’s eyes widened at that, knowing very well that whiskey was strong as hell, and once she took a long sip, deciding that Marceline was spending the night here.

“Okay, so,” Marceline made a face after downing a whole glass of whiskey, the liquid burning her throat before staring at Hen. “I’m just going to put it all out there, um,” her eyes darted away from Hen’s nervously as she picked at her nails. “You were right earlier… about how I had an opinion on Buck and Abby… ‘cos like… I have a lot of opinions about them. Not necessarily… good ones… and um, the reason for my negative opinions is because, um,” she took in a deep breath before pressing her eyes shut. “I’m kind of... in love with Buck.”

So… that was not at all what Hen was expecting Marceline to tell her. Honestly, she was expecting some dark and mysterious from the other woman’s past that would explain her closed-off nature but… this was more than enough to suffice.

But another unexpected thing just happened before Hen’s eyes: Marceline silently crying into a pillow she was hugging.

“Oh, honey,” Hen said softly and reached for a box of tissues nearby. “It’s okay, I’m glad you told me. Thank you for trusting me with that, I’m… honored.”

Marceline took a few tissues from the box Hen inched towards her and blew her nose. “I just,” she hiccuped for a moment and swallowed more of her pride. “I’m angry with myself for loving him because he’s taken now and I waited too long to tell him and it took me getting shot to realize that.” she huffed out as she let go of the pillow and started to dig her fingernails into her palm to prevent her from lashing out. “And I’m angry that he’s happy with Abby because I’m so fucking jealous of her.

“I want to be the one with Buck but I’m not. I’m just his emotionally distant co-worker who took two bullets for him. And I already told Nic this, all of it. She’s heard it from the start and I feel like I’m annoying her with my shit, especially my shit about Buck because she has her own shit to deal with and Gemma who is an absolute angel and now I’m probably annoying you with my shit because you have a wife and a kid and--”

“Alright, I’m going to have to stop you there, Marceline,” Hen put her hands up to try and stop her from rambling as she got up from her spot on the couch to sit on the chair next to her. But upon doing so, she saw Marceline wince back and held her hands up to cover to face… oh dear. She quickly lowered her hands onto her lap. “You’re not annoying me with your shit. I’m glad you want to talk to me about your shit, I really am. And I highly doubt Nic is annoyed about hearing you talk too. You just want to be heard, and I’m willing to listen to you.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered out like a child who was being scolded.

“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for,” the older woman gently admonished before slowly reaching forward to put her hand over Marceline’s.

She gave Hen a tiny smile as she squeezed her hand. “Thanks,”

Hen smiled softly. “Of course, but let’s start opening this wine, hm? Then we can talk about our boy Buck and how stupid he is. How about that?”

Marceline let a small laugh escape her lips. “Sure, that sounds fun. It’s better than moping alone. And hey, Karen can join us if she’d want and we can just shit on men because Buck lumps into the men category.”

Hen’s smile only grew at this and clapped her hands together. “Yes, this what we need. Okay, I’ll go get Karen who’s probably listening in from the kitchen if I’m going, to be honest, I’m sorry, she’s a little noisy,”

“I am not!” a voice indigently yelled from the kitchen.

“I rest my case.” Hen gestured to the kitchen doors before laughing softly. “Baby, come out here. Oh- wait! Bring some ice cream. We’re going full-on girl’s night right now.”

Karen then appeared with a few pints of ice cream and yet another bottle of wine and a big smile on her face. “Hi, I’m Karen, Hen’s wife. Sorry for eavesdropping earlier, but nothing ever interesting happens at our house at this time.”

Marceline grinned and waved a hand at Karen. “It’s okay, my emotional turmoil can be very entertaining. Nic would agree with you. And hello Karen, I’m Marceline, a co-worker of Hen’s, very nice to meet you.”

“Alright, enough with formalities.” Hen waved her hands around as she took a pint of rocky road ice cream and a spoon. “Let’s start shitting on men,”

“Okay, bet,” Marceline grinned as she got her own spoon and leaned forward to get a scoop of the rocky road ice cream from Hen’s pint. “Doesn’t it bother you when men…”

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In comparison to how Marceline has been feeling for the last couple of weeks, her mood has been significantly lighter for the past couple of days. Finally telling someone other than Nic about her feelings was good, and Hen was a great listener and advice giver. Plus, Karen seemed to take a quick liking to her and invited her over to dinner on Friday so that was great.

And today? Well, it’s going well so far. Marceline ran around the block early in the morning before taking Nic and Gemma to work and school. But no, not on her motorcycle as she’d prefer, but in Nic’s car since she had the day off. Before she had to pick up Gemma from school, she cleaned up around the apartment because yikes, it was a bit of a mess. Mostly due to Marceline, she’s a slob, which annoys the hell out of Nicolette, but yanno, doesn’t former girlfriend’s turned roommates and kind of co-parents have some things they don’t like about the other person?

So Marceline did the laundry, which included actually folding it, took the garbage out, and cleaned the bathroom just in time to pick up Gemma from school. Sadly, Nic had a late shift that would run till one a.m. and she said she would just take an Uber home.

And that meant that it was going to be a Marceline and Gemma day, which, in the six-year-old words were one of the best days ever. This was probably because Marceline was a bit more relaxed when it came to doing homework once they got home, but made sure to get it done before six, and allowed the young girl to eat ice cream as a snack.

She parked the car in one of the parking spots, before getting out and shutting the door. Marceline wore her red bomber jacket and blue-washed jeans, along with some black converses. She walked towards the back of the school, recalling how the pick-up was usually near the playground, and carefully weaved past other parents and children walking by.

“Auntie Marcel!” a high-pitched voice squeaked from the swings as Marceline walked closer to the playground.

The first responder grinned widely and jogged towards the swings. “There’s my little Gem!”

Gemma gave Marceline a big, toothy smile before jumping off the swings and running towards her. “Today was so cool, Marcel, I’m telling you. Science class was awesome, we made elephant toothpaste and I made mine purple!” she spat out facts about her day with so much enthusiasm that it was contagious.

“Whoa, really? That sounds pretty cool, Gem.” Marceline swiftly took the little girl’s sparkly pink backpack and put it over her shoulder as they walked towards Nic’s car. “Y’know, all I did was clean the apartment, nothing nearly as interesting as that.” she opened the backdoor for the six-year-old to get into and then placed her backpack on the floor.

Gemma giggled as she shook her head, getting into her booster seat and putting her seatbelt on all by herself. “That’s okay Auntie, we can have fun together. Maybe with… some ice cream?” she asked in her overtly sweet voice.

Marceline sighed and playfully rolled her two different colored eyes as she shut the backdoor and then sliding into her own seat. “I don’t know kiddo… your mom is kind of worried about your sugar intake lately.” she turned the key into the ignition as the car turned on and rumbled.

Gemma pouted, aghast at her Aunt’s reasoning. “But Mars! It’s our special ice cream trip, you always let me get ice cream right after school when you pick me up. It’s like-- tradition! Like how at Christmas we get a tree and put the decorations up together. You wouldn’t want Christmas without a tree, would you, Mars?”

She turned around in her seat and squinted at the six-year-old sitting behind her. “I feel like I’m being tricked. Did your mom put you up to this? Is she testing my boundaries as a guardian?”

“No! I just want my strawberry cheesecake ice cream with rainbow sprinkles and for us to sit under the tree while you drink your cookies and cream milkshake.” Gemma said in her matter-of-fact adult voice before continuing, “And then you help me climb the tree, sometimes you climb it with me, or wait at the bottom.”

Marceline was touched by how Gemma seemed to enjoy her time with Marceline, even if the time they spent together was limited at best. Not that she didn’t want to spend time with the little pipsqueak, but she tended to keep herself busy when she had days off. She’d leave the apartment, go to the bar, make out with someone at the bar and maybe go home with them. She’s already spent so much time bothering the Bishop girls for the past seven years with her existence and didn’t want to keep doing it on her days off.

“Fine, we’ll go, but--!”

“--Ha, butt,”

“We will go get ice cream, but you gotta super duper pinky promise me that you won’t tell your mom about it.” Marceline wagged her finger at the young girl before putting out her pinky finger. “We got a deal, munchkin?”

Gemma quickly nodded as she giggled softly. “Okay, Mars. We got a deal.” then she raised her little pinky finger and leaned forward in her seat before wrapping it around Marceline’s finger.

And then they were off to the ice cream shop jamming out to One Direction (along with some of the bandmate’s separate singles), a current favorite of the six-year-olds. After belting to Kiwi, they finally arrived at their destination. Gemma was so excited that she practically jumped out of the car before Marceline could even park.

When they walked up to the counter, Marceline sent the familiar teenage boy at the cash register a small smile. “Hey, Jerome,”

Jerome smiled back at her and leaned over the counter, displaying his freshly painted manicure that contrasted against his dark complexion. “Marcel! It’s so good to see you and this little gremlin,” he shot Gemma a playful grin as she stuck her tongue out at him. He laughed at the kid and started typing into the register, “You’re getting your usual, right? A medium strawberry shortcake in a dish with a cone on the side and rainbow sprinkles on top, and cookies and cream milkshake with whipped cream?” he shot off in his usual cheery voice.

“You know us too well, Jer,” Marceline grinned and nodded as she took out her wallet and handing him her card. After he took her card and swiped it, she took a good look at the teen in front of her while Gemma went off towards their usual picnic table under the big orange tree with Marceline’s phone to play some games while the adults talked, “So, how’s school going? Still thinking about going to NYU?”

He let out a loud groan and rolled his eyes dramatically, “Girl, I don’t know what I want to do with my life anymore, let me tell you.” But before he could continue, he shot of the order to his co-worker, Samantha who got to work on them and turned back around. “School is a pain in my behind as of late. I’m stressed out over this huge math test because I’m actually shit at math... and I still have to bust my ass at this job to save up for a place because I can’t keep staying at Alex’s house even though her parents say it’s fine.”

Marceline nodded carefully, hearing the clear annoyance and stress coming off of the eighteen-year-old. He had recently come out as transgender to his family, which immediately got him kicked out with nothing but the clothes on his back. Marceline had known Jerome before he came out through working at the ice cream shop throughout his high school years and became fast friends to the point where Marceline had gifted Jerome his first proper binder.

“Damn, I’m sorry to hear that, Jer.”

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault.”

“I know, but are you sure I can’t do anything to help? You know Nic is more than willing to let you stay on our couch for a bit. She loves you too.”

All Marceline wanted to do was wrap Jerome in bubble wrap and keep him safe from the world, but knew that realistically, she can’t.

Jerome shrugged his shoulders before handing their order to them. “It’s alright, I’ll figure something out.”

She raised a skeptical brow at him. “Okay, but you have my number. Call me if you need anything, seriously.” She slowly took the tray from him.

“Will do, Marcel,” Jerome smiled lightly before blowing a kiss to her.

Marceline pretended to catch the kiss and chuckled softly as she turned around to walk over to Gemma. The six-year-old instantly put her phone down when Marceline slid next to her and gave her a big toothy smile. “Yay, ice cream time!”

Gemma proceeded to inhale her entire ice cream while Marceline sat close by, idly sipping her milkshake and scrolling mindlessly on her phone. Gemma then launched into a long story about how her adventures at recess and how Lucas Mullens got gum stuck in his hair. Marceline, ever-so enthralled by an enchanting tale told by a child, nodded carefully as she diligently listened along and saved her questions till the end (by Gemma’s request of course).

Then it was Marceline’s turn to share a story, but this time from work. She decided on a lighter tale to tell the six-year-old when her team was on a call about a lady who had a snake wrapped around her throat. Gemma was instantly hooked, staring at her co-parent with big brown eyes filled with wonder. But she was saddened when she was told that the snake died by decapitation due to an impulsive Buck, deeming her co-worker “a menace” to all snakes.

Marceline tried to keep a straight face.

“What do you mean Buck cut the snake’s head off? It’s still a living thing, it didn’t need to die,” Gemma pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m telling you, Auntie Mars, he’s a menace. I learned that in school today.”

“Oh you did, did you?” she grinned and nudged the little girl with her elbow.

“Mars?” an all-too-familiar voice said behind her.

Marceline whipped her head around for the source of the voice, praying that her ears had betrayed her. But when her brown and green eyes landed on him, she wanted to turn to dust on the spot. “Buck, hey,” she plastered a fake smile, raising her hand to wave at him as her eyes also caught the redhead standing beside him.

Buck walked towards them, causing Marceline to stand up and quickly run a hand through her hair because there was no way in hell she was prepared for this.

“Didn’t expect to see you guys here,” she said, nodding her head amicably in Abby’s direction.

“Ah, well, I’m taking Buck out for the afternoon,” Abby said with a soft smile as she looked at the man beside her.

“And I was craving ice cream,” Buck added as he looped an arm around his girlfriend’s waist.

Marceline did her very best to make sure her eyes wouldn’t twitch. “That’s great, I’d recommend the milkshakes,”

Then there was a tug on her elbow, causing Marceline to look away from the lovesick couple before her and the little girl next to her. “Who are they?” Gemma whispered a little too loud, causing both Buck and Abby to grin. But before Marceline could properly respond, Gemma gasped and pointed at Buck, “Mars, he’s like a giraffe!”

If she was looking at a mirror, Marceline knew that her face would be bright red with utter embarrassment. “Gemma- oh my god,” she facepalmed and sighed, not even daring to look in their direction because what the fuck. “This is my co-worker Buck, the giraffe, and Abby, the giraffe’s girlfriend. Buck, Abby, this is Gemma, Nic’s daughter, and a public menace.”

“Hi,” Buck and Abby waved at Gemma with gleaming smiles.

Gemma gave Marceline an odd look. “What? Buck’s tall, like a giraffe. That’s why I called him a giraffe- wait,” the six-year-old halted before turning to look directly at Buck with her eyes turning to slits. “You’re the one who cut that snake’s head off in the story my Auntie was telling me!”

Abby stifled her laughter as Marceline wished that the ground beneath her would swallow her whole.

Buck, to his credit, laughed and nodded his head, “Yeah, uh, that wasn’t my finest moment at the LAFD, but I do regret that.”

Clearly, he was alluding to what happened right after that call and how he slept with the caller and got caught by Bobby. That was a mess.

Gemma eyed Buck. “You’re lucky you’re a giraffe,” and sad that in the most serious tone Marceline has ever heard a six-year-old use.

Again, laughter erupted. And, again, Marceline wanted to disappear at the sight of Buck and Abby being so happy together.

God, feelings fucking suck.

@skyslowalking & @beelarson once again, this is for you

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Everybody Knows You're High, 4/4 (Rajila) - Dartmouth420

Summary: It’s not just the weed this time, Raja’s in love, and Manila’s about to make a confession.

A/n: this is one long-ass chapter of feelings and lesbian porn lmao. this is specifically for the anon from a few weeks ago who requested manila smut, here ya go :P also thank u to V&albatross for your encouragement and for letting me play in your world lol <3

tw: weed, mild second-hand embarrassment, smut: 80% sexy, 20% disgusting, 100% dumb ;)

Manila stood in her steamy bathroom leaning against the edge of the sink, with a towel wrapped around her body, and stared at herself in the mirror.

Last night had been… a lot.

She’d just gotten out of the shower, and there were dark circles under her eyes from the late night, the stress and the hangover. The hangover wasn’t as bad as Manila thought she deserved. Chugging straight vodka from the bottle in a state of emotional turmoil had been a terrible idea.

However, a part of herself that she’d been suppressing for too long was raising its head, this time with hope. Parsing out what Raja had been trying to say last night had practically required a cryptographer, but Manila was like eighty-seven percent sure that Raja had said she liked her, and was interested in… maybe dating. Or something. It all got a little blurry after she’d kissed Raven.

Manila stuck her tongue out at herself in the mirror and left the bathroom, walking quickly down the hall in her towel to her room to get dressed. She examined one of her nicer shirts, and that corduroy mini-skirt she liked, and then decided not to get her hopes up. She pulled on a pair of dark blue sweatpants with the college’s name written across the butt. But her hand lingered over her one of her nice bras, an elegant black one with red lining, and after a brief but eventful internal wrestling match, she put it on. And covered it with a T-shirt and a hoodie.

After having breakfast, drying her hair, scrolling through her phone, cleaning the bathroom, killing time and receiving no texts from Raja, but not sending any either, Manila put her hands on her hips and sighed.

Manila had two choices. She could go across the street and actually talk to Raja about her feelings, or she could drop out of college, move to Canada, change her identity, burn her fingerprints off with acid and start again as an entirely new person.

Despite the strong temptation of option two, Manila chose option one and rushed out the door before she could psych herself out. She hurried up to to the familiar house across the street and a few doors down. Manila took a nervous breath as she knocked on Raja’s front door, immediately regretting that she hadn’t texted or something before just showing up. Maybe Raja wasn’t awake yet, or maybe she didn’t want to see her after she’d been so messy last night-

The door opened and Raja stood there. Her long black hair was wet and brushed straight like she’d just showered, and her loose, green linen shirt was damp where the ends sat on her shoulders. She looked suspiciously fresh and clean for the day after a party, but then Manila remembered that Raja had been sober the entire time.

“Hey,” said Raja, with a goofy, knowing smile.

Manila’s palms began to sweat, and her heart leapt out of her chest and prostrated itself on the floor.

“Uh- hi,” said Manila.

Raja stepped aside and Manila walked in to the living room, slipping off her shoes and glancing at the familiar couch. An empty bag of chips and a couple loose video game controllers sat abandoned on it. Usually she’d go right in and sit down, but that didn’t quite feel right today. Carmen’s voice drifted over from the kitchen, one half of a conversation she was having over the phone.

“We could talk in my room?” suggested Raja, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. Her deep brown eyes were without expectation.

“Sure,” said Manila decisively, and walked quickly to the stairs and up to Raja’s bedroom, the first door on the left.

Raja’s room always surprised Manila. The first time she’d seen it she’d expected a total stoner disaster zone, but instead it was surprisingly neat. There was a beautiful piece of blue and gold paisley fabric tacked up on the wall, some clothes piled up on the back of the chair, and several mugs on the nightstand. Books, her laptop and some weed paraphernalia were scattered on the desk, but the floor was clean and the bed was pretty much always made.

Manila sat down on the edge of the bed, and wiped her sweaty palms on her pants. Raja sat down next to her, close but not touching.

“So…” began Manila, drawing out the word and wondering what exactly she was going to say. She didn’t want to be the first to admit her feelings. Part of her still felt afraid, instinctively evasive when talking about how she felt. “You like me, apparently.”

“Yeah,” laughed Raja, amused, flipping her damp hair over her shoulder, “Yeah, I said that.”

“Mm,” acknowledged Manila, already a little flustered by how Raja had just openly admitted it, like it was that easy. Everything was so easy for her. “Are you mad at me for kissing Raven?”

“For like a minute last night, but uh, it seemed more like you were mad at me, actually.”

“Yeah, I was kind of upset-” said Manila, and hesitated. Talking openly like this was outside of her comfort zone and she felt too warm and too awkward and… she would rather all of this be a big joke, to laugh it off again and hide how she really felt behind the humour.

“I’m sorry I decided to make that joke about you missing your opportunity when I was trying to be all serious or whatever,” said Raja quickly, all in one breath, “That was really stupid. I really did mean everything I said, except for that part.”

Manila nodded, the hurt rolling back over her for a moment. The feeling of rejection had been awful. But maybe that was how Raja had felt the first couple of times Manila had rejected and mocked her for expressing interest.

“It’s okay,” said Manila, cracking a smile, “You are incredibly stupid after all.”

“But I’m still getting better grades than you,” replied Raja, raising her eyebrows and grinning.

Manila looked at her hands. Raja was next to her, but she felt simultaneously closer and farther than she’d ever been. They were steering out of familiar territory towards something Manila both hopelessly longed for and horribly feared.

“I didn’t do anything with Yara, by the way,” confessed Manila, the words spilling out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“What, really?” replied Raja, cocking her head to the side.

“Yeah I lied about that, she and Alexis love each other so much it’s gross,” said Manila, rolling her eyes. “I thought you’d been acting differently around me, so I… said that.”

“They do seem to love each other a lot,” confirmed Raja, nodding, a sneaky grin growing on her mouth, “You wanted to see if I got jealous?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t believe in jealousy,” sniffed Raja imperiously, “Love should be free.”

“You’re such a fucking hippie,” said Manila, shaking her head, amused, “And you were jealous, you were stomping around like a six-year-old having a temper tantrum.”

“Fine, maybe a little,” acquiesced Raja, with a laugh. “You were really winding me up, though!”

Manila laughed as well, following the shift of energy between them into lighter territory. She twisted her fingers in the sheets on Raja’s bed for a moment, and sat up straighter, looking at Raja carefully. Raja’s green linen shirt draped elegantly over her tall, angular frame and it suited her nicely, despite the damp shoulders from her hair. A curl of interest announced itself in Manila’s core.

“So, uh,” said Manila, regretting her decision to wear sweats and wishing she’d at least tried to look nice. Raja’s expression was open, but her shoulders were a little stiff, almost nervous. Manila wanted to ease the tension, she wanted Raja to be comfortable around her again, and get rid of this stupid distance she’d built up between them.

Manila decided she was going to be brave, and asked, “Do you still wanna make out?”

Raja blinked in shock and then grinned and gave a happy little shrug, and said, “Yeah, totally.”

Before Manila could stop herself, before she could let herself think, she leaned in. Raja did the same, and shifted closer to her on the bed, pressing their legs together. Manila hesitated for a moment, the tension between them burning hot, more intense and awful than it had ever been, before Raja brushed her lips over Manila’s and they captured one another in a soft kiss. A high-voltage thrill shot down Manila’s spine, turning to instant, uncontrollable heat between her legs.

Raja’s confidence was contagious, and Manila kissed her back, tentatively parting her lips and tasting Raja with her tongue. Raja touched Manila’s waist, her other hand going to the back of her neck and tangling up in her hair. Manila’s body was taking over completely, the thrill drowning out her every doubt.

Raja was very pleased with how the morning had progressed so far, as Manila broke their kiss to push her down on the bed, a look of pure, unadulterated desire in her eyes.

“Oh, hello,” purred Raja as Manila straddled her, and Raja shifted a little so that she was at a better angle, her head propped up on her pillow. Manila lifted her hoodie up over her head, and the plain T-shirt undershirt underneath hiked up so that Raja caught a glimpse of her toned stomach before Manila threw the hoodie to the floor. Raja’s breath quickened, and she fumbled at the buttons of her shirt. She was so happy that this was finally happening, that Manila wasn’t angry with her and seemed quite interested in being more than just friends. There were so many fun directions this could go-

“Hi,” breathed Manila, leaning forward and quashing Raja’s efforts to get her shirt unbuttoned. Manila kissed her again, this time taking charge in a way that Raja found very sexy indeed. Raja caressed her waist through the thin fabric of her shirt. Manila stroked Raja’s still-damp hair, her hands exploring Raja’s scalp as they made out thoroughly. The smell of Manila’s lavender conditioner filled Raja’s nose.

Manila ducked her head, going for Raja’s neck. Raja sighed, gasping when Manila introduced her teeth to her skin. Oh, this was excellent, this was lovely. Manila was so much more than Raja had expected, and pleasant excitement filled her mind. Raja’s hands drifted from Manila’s waist down her back to grip her beautiful, muscular, college-logo-emblazoned ass.

Fuck yes.

Manila laughed quietly into her neck, pausing for a breath, and rolled her hips against Raja. Raja pushed her thigh up a little to give Manila something to grind on, if she wanted to. Even the hint that Manila was truly letting her guard down and trusting Raja like this was very exciting-

Manila breathed in sharply, her face still pressed into Raja’s neck, and rolled her hips again, and Raja felt Manila’s warm body through her thick cotton sweatpants. Raja took her opportunity and lifted her head slightly, kissing Manila’s neck in return, still gripping her ass and encouraging her to grind against her thigh.

“Raja-” breathed Manila as Raja kissed what must be a sweet spot. Raja couldn’t wait to learn all her sweet spots.

Manila sat back, pulling Raja with her so they were both sitting up, Manila still straddling her lap.

“Can I…?” murmured Manila, touching the buttons on Raja’s shirt.

“Yeah, for sure.”

Manila fumbled to undo Raja’s shirt buttons and Raja kissed her neck again. Now that they were sitting up, Raja touched Manila’s lower back and guided her to keep grinding on her thigh, since they were in an excellent position for her to do so. Manila bit back a little moan, visibly distracted from her task and it sent a tingle throughout Raja’s entire body. Manila was getting so hot and bothered already, and they were still practically fully clothed.

In fact, Manila’s hips were moving quicker now, rocking against Raja’s thigh, but she finished with the buttons and pushed Raja’s shirt back down to her elbows, then blinked with surprise.

Raja wasn’t one to wear a bra unless it was absolutely required of her.

“You can touch me,” whispered Raja, kissing Manila’s ear.

Manila did, gently palming Raja’s small breasts, and continuing to roll her hips. Now Raja could really feel the heat between Manila’s legs and let out a surprised half-moan herself as Manila caught her nipple between her fingers. Manila’s expression was hazy with lust, as she bit her lip and rutted down even harder, and Raja was almost surprised that Manila was so turned on by this minimal amount of contact.

“Is it okay if I-” said Raja, and touched the front edge of Manila’s sweatpants.

Manila nodded semi-frantically, and Raja went for it, reaching past her waistband to feel how gloriously warm and wet she was, even through her underwear. Manila moaned aloud, and ground down against Raja’s fingers and Raja, absolutely thrilled, slid her fingers inside her underwear.

Manila inhaled sharply at the skin-to-skin contact, rolling her hips hard and fast and clutching Raja to her. Raja decided to go for more, gently slipping two fingers past her folds and up into her soaking wet pussy-

“Oh my god, fuck-” managed Manila.

Manila’s back arched and her hip thrusts became erratic, quick, and she let out another barely suppressed moan, burying her face in Raja’s neck, panting hot breath against her skin, clenching around Raja’s fingers with a sudden gasp-

Suddenly Manila stopped moving, she pushed herself back. She flopped backwards off of Raja’s lap onto her ass and covered her mouth with her hand, eyes wide, her expression utterly surprised and embarrassed.

Raja realized what had happened.

“You are so into me,” stated Raja, unable to resist the urge to tease Manila for it, wiping her fingers unceremoniously on her sheets and laughing. “You came from just that? Really?”

“Don’t,” whined Manila, covering her face with both hands and curling up into a ball.

“We’ve barely been going for five minutes-”

“It’s just been a while for me,” complained Manila, her voice muffled behind her hands, “I’m sorry…”

Raja crawled over to her, taking her hands away from her face and kissing her.

“No need to apologize, you’ve got more where that came from, right?” asked Raja with a grin. The dull ache of Raja’s own arousal was still present between her legs.

“Yeah…”

“Great, hopefully this time I’ll get to actually take your clothes off.”

“Only if you ask nicely,” replied Manila dryly, sitting up. She looked slightly less embarrassed, pushing a few stray curls back out of her face.

Raja kissed Manila’s face again, unable to stop herself from smiling, smug. It seemed like Manila did actually like her, or was at least very, very attracted to her. Raja appreciated the vindication, and imagined the afternoon ahead. It looked like they’d be spending it here, making out and having sex, and taking a few breaks for food and weed, and that seemed most excellent.

“What do you want to do?” asked Manila. She reached out and hesitated, before running her fingers across Raja’s collarbone and then down her arm. Raja vaguely remembered her shirt, which was mostly off, open with the sleeves caught around her elbows. She took it off entirely. Raja was comfortable with her body and didn’t mind being naked, especially when it was making Manila so distracted.

“I want to…” began Raja, before shrugging, “Actually, I just want to roll a joint and share it with you, if you’re into that, and then eat you out for like forty-five minutes.”

Manila laughed and rolled her eyes, “Yeah, let’s get a little high, it won’t hurt.”

“It might even help you last longer…” teased Raja gently, not that she really cared. If Manila got off so quickly and easily, then Raja would gladly spend the entire day making her come over and over and over-

“Stop!” protested Manila, but she couldn’t help her smile.

Manila was so embarrassed that she’d pretty much finished immediately from the barest of contact like a desperate, touch-deprived lunatic, but luckily the feeling was fading. Raja didn’t seem to mind, despite her gentle teasing.

Manila had surprised herself more than anything. She was usually a bit… well, stiff maybe wasn’t the right word, but during hookups or sexual encounters she wanted to make sure she came off as sexy and fun, and that she did everything right. This was always particularly strong in her mind when she was with guys. But what was right was a vague and every-changing notion, a bit of a performance, kind of acting like girls did in porn except more chill, and trying to read what the other person liked and expected of her. It was difficult to relax. Certain walls always remained up.

But not today.

Today, Manila had completely melted the second her lips had touched Raja’s. Her body had taken over, unmitigated. Tasting Raja’s neck, grinding on her thigh, touching her skin and feeling her hard nipples, and Raja slipping her knowing fingers inside of her had made Manila feel so alive-

Maybe this was what it was supposed to feel like.

They had the entire afternoon ahead of them, so Manila lounged on Raja’s bed in her sweatpants while Raja got out a jar of weed and a grinder, confident and relaxed and wonderfully topless.

“Ugh, I left my rolling papers in the living room again,” sighed Raja, leaning over to give Manila a lingering kiss that sent a thrill right down her spine again, “I’ll be back.”

With that Raja got up and strolled across the room, opening her door-

“Don’t you need a shirt?” asked Manila.

“Nope.”

Manila laughed as Raja left and padded down the stairs. Her voice drifted up from the living room.

“Hey Delta.”

“Hey. So it’s a tits out kind of day?”

“Yeah, have you seen my rolling papers?”

“Over there.”

“Thanks! Did you hook up with that guy last night?”

“Yeah, and he was surprisingly good in bed-”

Manila tuned out the conversation, remembering her nice bra and wondering if she should just take her clothes off now and maybe fix her hair and find some way to recline on the bed so she’d look hot when Raja came back up-

But then Manila realized Raja didn’t care about that, and that really, she didn’t either. Manila lay back down on her side, breathing in the smell of Raja’s pillow. It smelled just like her hair, and honestly, Manila would be totally happy just to exist right here in this moment and never leave it. The voice in the back of her head chimed in, you know you still haven’t told her how you really feel-

“-yeah, she’s up in my room, I think we’re figuring it out.”

“Oh thank god! You’ve been stressing about that for ages. So that’s why you don’t have a shirt on…”

“Yeah, we might get kinda loud, so… sorry in advance.”

There was a smug evil to Raja’s voice, and Manila couldn’t help but feel smug as well. She imagined what exactly she could do to make Raja get loud…

“I was planning to go to the library anyway, bitch, I’ll send the bat signal to Carmen.”

Manila smirked at Delta’s sarcasm.

“Love you too!” sang Raja in response, and then Manila heard Raja’s footsteps on the stairs again. Her heart beat faster in anticipation. She should probably tell Raja about her stupid feelings. Raja had confessed her own, and while it was all still a bit vague, things were changing between them. Hopefully for the better.

Raja reentered the room, and flopped down on the bed next to Manila. Manila sat up and watched as Raja put a few weed buds into her little grinder and ground them up. Then she balanced a rolling paper in her palm, and carefully tipped the weed into it. Raja’s tongue darted out and wet the paper before rolling it into a cylinder, and something stirred in Manila’s core while she watched. Raja still wasn’t wearing a shirt, and Manila couldn’t help her eyes lingering. Of course this too was easy for Raja, she didn’t seem self-conscious about her body at all. Manila was always a bit in awe of Raja’s effortless confidence.

The joint was ready before Manila knew it, because when it came to weed Raja was nothing if not efficient. The sun outside broke through the clouds and streamed in through the thin curtains on Raja’s window, hitting the side of her face, and she was so beautiful that Manila’s breath hitched with disbelief. Raja brought the fresh joint to her mouth, grabbed a lighter from her bedside table and lit up, breathing in deeply with a contented sigh.

Raja passed Manila the joint with a suggestive smile, and Manila took it, putting the filter between her lips and drawing in a deep breath, the gentle smoke seeping deep into her lungs.

“I-” said Manila, passing back the joint and coughing, “I should probably tell you something.”

“Mmm, what?” replied Raja, taking another hit and leaning in, nuzzling Manila’s neck.

“Uh,” continued Manila, now very distracted by the feeling of Raja’s luxurious lips on her warm skin, the slightly smoky air and the joint that was now in her hands again. Did she even want to tell Raja she’d been idiotically in love with her for like two years? Would it ruin everything?

Manila took another pull and blew the smoke out into the air, while Raja kissed her neck and snuck her hand into her shirt, tracing her waist with delicate fingertips.

“I’ve actually,” whispered Manila, noticing with interest the way Raja had pressed herself into her side, her nipples getting pointy again, “I’ve actually been into you for a while.”

“Really?” purred Raja, without stopping what she was doing. It felt really good. Manila passed her the joint and Raja took it, turning away from her neck only momentarily to inhale the sweet smoke.

“Yeah,” said Manila quietly, desperately wanting to make it all a joke, somehow, worried her confession would completely freak Raja out. But maybe it wouldn’t. “I’ve kind of had a crush on you like since we met.”

Raja pulled back from Manila’s neck. But instead of laughing at her, or looking awkward and pushing her away, Raja’s expression was open and curious.

“No way,” said Raja, cocking her head to the side, “Even that time I got those fireworks from my dealer, and we accidentally lit that tree on fire?”

“Yeah?” replied Manila, confused. “I mean, Delta was the only one with the wherewithal to call 911, but we survived.”

“Even that time I spilled coffee all over your good white shirt?”

“Yes,” said Manila, flatly, recalling the incident. The shirt had never recovered. And the burn had hurt.

“Okay, but what about when I was too high in the grocery store a few weeks ago-“

“All of the times, Raja!” exclaimed Manila impatiently, practically squirming with the discomfort of having confessed her feelings, “Every dumb thing you did, I still liked you. So I, I don’t know, maybe that makes me the stupid one.”

“Nah, you’re like the smartest person I know, other than me,” chuckled Raja affectionately, taking another drag on the joint and exhaling the smoke slowly, so that it drifted up around her face, ethereal, “I’m learning so many cool new things about you today.”

“Well,” sputtered Manila, defensive and insecure, “I don’t know if it’s cool-“

“It totally is,” continued Raja, utterly confident, “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“Because, you know,” shrugged Manila, taking the offered joint and hoping it would calm her down a little, “You obviously prefer casual hookups or whatever, and I couldn’t really stand being just that to you- I just didn’t want to have to say it was totally fine and chill if you didn’t like me back-” Manila paused with horrendous panic, “I mean, you do feel the same way, right?”

“Yeah, I-” said Raja, her face suddenly shifting into to an expression that normally appeared when she was trying really hard to beat Manila at Super Smash Bros, “Wait, so you thought I’d think you were too intense or something?”

Manila passed her the joint and looked away, already knowing that she was too intense, that her feelings were nothing other than a humiliating mess and always would be. Well, she thought wistfully, it had been nice while it lasted…

“Manila,” sighed Raja, and Manila looked back at her and Raja was smiling, and blowing smoke into her face, “I can’t predict like the entire future, you know with the Mars colonies and stuff, but I really like you. Maybe you like me a little more than I realized, but that’s good because I thought you weren’t into me at all. So like, it’s cool. Let’s just see where it goes?”

Manila nodded, as her heart beat faster and she felt herself blush. She supposed she’d just have to trust Raja, and herself.

“But you really fucked up with Raven when you two were dating,” stated Manila, unable to stop her doubts from surfacing.

“Well… ” said Raja, hesitating, and then she sighed, “Yeah, I did. The whole relationship thing was her idea and I went along with it because, well, I wanted things to be easy… but I should’ve found a better way to end it.” Raja paused, and took Manila’s hand, weaving their fingers together and squeezing, “I feel super differently about you, and about this. We’re friends first, right, before anything else.”

“Okay, yeah,” murmured Manila, plucking the joint, which wasn’t much more than a tiny roach, from Raja’s fingers and inhaling deeply, burning it right down to the filter. It seemed like Raja was genuinely on the path to some kind of self-awareness.

Manila reached around Raja to stub the end of the joint out in the decorative glass ashtray, and then let the smoke out through her nose with a giggle. Raja laughed along, and Manila finally began to feel the relaxed buzz under her skin. Getting high was nice, no wonder Raja did it all the time… Manila leaned in and kissed her again. Raja kissed her back, her hands going immediately to her waist again, pushing up under her shirt to touch her skin. Manila stroked Raja’s hair, and delicately held the back of her neck. Raja was already topless, but Manila was getting very interested in taking Raja’s shorts off as well…

They just had to trust one another, figured Manila, and maybe everything would be turn out alright.

Raja was happy and relaxed now that she’d had some weed and they were making out again. Manila had seemed stressed when she’d admitted her years-long crush, and while Raja was certainly a little surprised, more than anything she was pleased that her instincts had been right. It was making the strange new feeling in her chest glow a little brighter. But maybe that was just the weed.

“I want to take your shirt off,” murmured Raja. She’d seen Manila out running in her sports bra enough times to be real curious about what was underneath…

“Yeah, go ahead,” said Manila, moving her hand from the back of Raja’s neck down to her chest, running her thumb over her nipple in a way that sent a jolt of interest directly between Raja’s legs. She tugged Manila’s shirt up, and Manila lifted her arms and was momentarily caught with her shirt under her chin and around her elbows and Raja laughed at her and eventually they got it off.

Damn. Manila looked good, cute and toned and was wearing a suspiciously nice bra…

“You knew this was going to happen today, didn’t you?” said Raja.

“I might have suspected something,” said Manila with a smirk, sitting back on her butt as she easily tugged her sweatpants off of her legs.

“You’re so sneaky.”

“It’s my tragic flaw.”

Now that Manila was just in her underwear, the animal part of Raja’s brain kicked in. In an instant, Raja wanted to kiss Manila’s entire body, fuck her thoroughly, cuddle all night, move in and have a baby together, raise a bunch of feral kids and dogs, run a full-scale weed grow-op out in the country somewhere and just chill in the glorious California sunset until the end of time. Hmm. Raja decided that odd little fantasy was definitely just the weed talking, and took off her shorts and throwing them over the side of the bed, revealing her plain blue cotton underwear.

Now, that they were both pleasantly stoned and significantly more naked, things were starting to get interesting. Raja scooted closer to Manila, and ran her hands up her legs, letting out a weird gremlin-like giggle.

“You so don’t get to accuse me of being the horny one anymore,” chuckled Manila, taking Raja’s face in her hands and kissing her.

Raja sat back and pulled Manila into her lap, taking her time to kiss her. They explored one another, gentle and stoned. Raja stroked her way up Manila’s smooth back, her fingertips extra sensitive, and felt the band of her bra, reaching to undo it.

“Wait, don’t,” said Manila, and Raja’s hands stilled. Was something wrong? But Manila hadn’t pulled back, in fact she was pressing little kisses on Raja’s face, and kissed the shell of her ear in a way that sent a shiver throughout Raja’s entire body.

Raja dropped her hands to Manila’s hips and had a brilliant idea.

“Turn around,” suggested Raja into Manila’s ear.

“Mm, why?” replied Manila, shifting to kiss Raja’s neck.

“Because it’ll be fun…"

Manila laughed at her reasoning, and turned around so that she was sitting in Raja’s lap with her back to her. Raja immediately hugged Manila close, pressing her naked chest into her back and taking the opportunity to nip at her neck, eliciting a little yelp.

Raja ran her hand up Manila’s stomach touch her chest through her bra. Manila ’s breath hitched in response, and Raja took that as a positive sign, and reached up to ease her bra-straps off her shoulders.

“I don’t want to take my bra off,” stated Manila and Raja stopped again, trying to hide her disappointment.

“Do you not like being touched there?” asked Raja, momentarily nervous that she’d overstepped an invisible boundary, as Manila twisted in her lap to make eye contact.

“No, I like it, but,” said Manila, and hesitated.

“But?” asked Raja, in what she hoped was a gentle way, planting a little kiss on Manila’s shoulder.

“I just don’t like people looking at my tits.”

“Why not?”

Manila hunched a little, looking uncomfortable, and said, “Uh, this girl in middle school used to tell me they were a weird shape and I’ve kind of never gotten over it.”

Raja glanced down at Manila’s chest. Her breasts were contained in what was a truly nice bra and Raja found nothing weird about her body whatsoever.

“Well, fuck that bitch, she can die,” said Raja, in full seriousness.

Manila burst into laughter, “What, you’re gonna murder some girl from my seventh-grade gym class?”

“Yeah, what’s her name?”

“Jenny.”

“She sounds basic, I’ll shove her into traffic.”

“That’s very sexy of you but I’m still not taking my bra off,” chuckled Manila, blinking slowly. Her eyes were a little bloodshot, but her body was relaxed with trust again, leaning back into Raja. Raja wrapped one arm around her waist and squeezed her close. As badly as Raja wanted Manila to be fully naked, she respected her wishes.

“I went to alternative school on what was basically a gay hippie commune,” murmured Raja, gently kissing the spot behind Manila’s ear, and tracing her fingers down her stomach, “There wasn’t really bullying. We all made flower crowns, ate quinoa, studied beekeeping and Buddhist philosophy, it ruled.”

“No wonder you’re so weird…” sighed Manila, with a little gasp as Raja ghosted her fingers over the sensitive skin just above the edge of her black underwear.

“Yeah, but you like me anyway,” purred Raja, now running her fingers over the distinctly damp fabric between Manila’s legs and then kissing her neck again. Manila shuddered and let out a whine, the sudden note in her voice that reminded Raja of how easily turned on she was. “And so do most bees.”

Raja shifted a little so Manila was more comfortable in her lap, and Manila spread her legs and Raja stroked the inside of her thigh, moving slowly closer to her centre. Manila didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands, and after a moment of confusion she rested them on Raja’s arm across her waist.

“You’re like really hot, you have nothing to be insecure about,” murmured Raja in her ear, resting her head on Manila’s shoulder and wondering how she felt about praise and dirty talk.

Manila whined and arched a bit, trying to press into Raja’s hand. Then she turned her head, catching Raja’s mouth with her own in a sudden, intense kiss. Raja kissed her in return, and Manila reached back, tracing the back of Raja’s head and stroking her hair with a loose, exploratory hand.

“You’re definitely the hot one,” chuckled Manila, “But I really need you to start touching me, like right now.”

“Ask nicely,” purred Raja.

“Hmm…” hummed Manila, drawing it out, and then, her voice breathy and demanding, whispered, “Please?”

Raja’s own breath caught hearing her beg, and she immediately slipped her fingers past the waistband of Manila’s underwear, finding her clit in no time and stroking her with slow circles. Knowing how very sensitive Manila was, Raja went about her task with utmost delicacy.

Manila’s hand grasped into a fist in Raja’s hair on the back of her head and she arched her back and moaned aloud. It seemed she was lot more expressive after the weed and the conversation about their feelings. It sent electricity directly into Raja’s core, and she squeezed Manila to her with her opposite arm around her waist. Raja couldn’t help but increase her pace, Manila’s reactions were so exciting.

Raja slipped her fingers down lower, stroking experimentally over Manila’s folds to feel her utterly soaking wet pussy. Yes.

“Do you like this?” asked Raja.

“Yeah,” breathed Manila, tilting her head back to rest on her shoulder.

Raja slipped her fingers inside of her once more and Manila tried to rock her hips for more friction but Raja held her in place and began to move her fingers, agonizingly gentle, teasing and testing for the right spot that would make Manila lose her mind.

Raja found it, and Manila bit back a broken moan, her body jerking forward a little as she grasped Raja’s arm around her waist, her fingers digging in. Raja kept going, rubbing against Manila’s clit with the base of her thumb and pressing her fingers inside her, hitting the spot that made her react, again.

Manila panted and gasped, arching her back, and Raja kissed her shoulder. There was a sheen of sweat on her cleavage from the warm, sunlit room that Raja really wanted to lick, but she wasn’t in the right position to do so. Oh well. This was also very good, Manila’s wetness was dripping all over her hand as she gasped and rutted down with her hips.

“I’m- I’m getting close,” gasped Manila, digging her nails into Raja’s arm.

Raja then decided to something utterly evil.

Raja stopped, and slid her fingers out of Manila entirely.

“Wha-” panted Manila with desperate frustration as was she left on the cruellest edge, “Why are you-”

“Lie down on your back,” said Raja, letting go of her Manila’s waist, a plan forming in her mind.

“You are the worst-” complained Manila, and she shakily got out of Raja’s lap and crawled forward, giving Raja an excellent view.

“Have I ever told you that you have a fantastic ass?” commented Raja, shifting up onto stiff knees and cracking her neck in anticipation of the task ahead of her.

Manila glanced over her shoulder with a pouty, false-innocent look that set something inside of Raja on fire, and then she flopped down on her back, propping herself up on her elbows.

Manila looked so beautiful laid out like that that Raja paused for a moment just to admire her, the sheen of sweat on her chest, her messy hair, her blown-out pupils and the look of intense arousal on her face.

“Are we going to be here all day?” challenged Manila, pouting.

“Wow, someone’s a little brat,” teased Raja, leaning down and kissing Manila’s stomach.

Raja quickly hooked her fingers in Manila’s underwear and pulled them down her thighs as Manila lifted her hips to help. Then Raja lay down on her stomach between Manila’s legs and ran a finger over her wet, sensitive pussy, amazed by how turned on she still was. Raja couldn’t help but be flattered by the physical effect she had on Manila.

“When it’s my turn I’m going to make you suffer,” said Manila, but her threat was very much undermined by the broken moan that left her as she arched her back and bit her lip as Raja stroked her again.

“Ooh, I can’t wait,” smirked Raja, heady and pleased.

Raja ghosted gentle kisses around her thighs and her lower belly, and then laughed as Manila practically growled at her. But she wouldn’t make Manila wait much longer, Raja ran her tongue experimentally over her folds, the taste and sensation firing constellation-like synapses in Raja’s mind. Manila let out another whimper as Raja swirled her tongue around her clit.

Mmm, pussy.

Raja went to town, spreading Manila’s legs a little wider and adjusting the angle of her neck to stay comfortable. She built it up, keeping the rhythm on her clit with her tongue as she pressed her fingers up into the lovely wetness once more.

“This feels so good,” sighed Manila, and Raja flicked her eyes up at her expression. Manila’s cheeks had flushed pink, and she reached her hand inside her bra to play with her nipple, her eyelids fluttering momentarily with pleasure. She looked absolutely excellent, far more relaxed than Raja had ever seen her before.

Raja continued, building up her rhythm as Manila began to gasp and moan and roll her hips against Raja’s face. It felt so good to please her friend like this, the ache of Raja’s own desire still warm and insistent between her legs.

Raja hooked her fingers, finding her g-spot once again, and flicking her tongue over Manila’s clit, hard and rapid while Manila clenched her thighs and arched her back even more and moaned, pressing herself up against Raja’s face until Raja had to hold her firmly against the bed with her opposite hand. Raja steadily increased the rhythm on her clit, and Manila got louder and louder, cursing over and over, and moaning Raja’s name until Raja felt her movements get erratic, and her internal muscles clenched and-

Sudden liquid dripped out onto Raja’s hand, as Raja brought Manila through an orgasm so good it could move tectonic plates. Manila moaned pathetically, her breath heavy, clutching desperately at the sheets as she let Raja take care of her.

Someone banged on the door.

“Oh my god, Raja, this is excessive even for you-”

“Go away Carmen!”

“Sorry, Carmen,” called Manila in an unsteady, breathy whimper of a voice.

“Wait, you’ve got Manila in there? Congratulations, bitches!”

Raja laughed, and sat up, wiping her face clean on her loose shirt before flopping down next to Manila and curling in to her side. Manila propped herself up on one elbow and swallowed dryly, shaking her head, her eyes glazed over in amazed disbelief. She looked like she’d been thoroughly fucked, thought Raja with keen affection, along with immense satisfaction on her own part.

“Ugh, that was really nice, that was so good,” repeated Manila, rolling onto her side to face Raja, and Raja practically glowed with the praise, “But how do Delta and Carmen both already know about this?”

“I’m not great with secrets,” shrugged Raja, nuzzling Manila’s neck and cuddling up against her.

Manila didn’t respond, instead she cuddled back into Raja with a happy little sigh, shutting her eyes. There was nothing in Raja’s gently stoned brain but post-sex satisfaction. After a few minutes Raja sat up, tracing her finger down Manila’s body from her shoulder to her chest, then down the dip of her waist and up and rise of her hip.

“You’re a bit of a pillow princess,” teased Raja, with a smirk, “I’m not sure what I expected, but you’re such a bratty little bottom-”

“No I’m not!” protested Manila in offence, sitting up.

“Yeah, you are,” taunted Raja, with a what-can-you-do shrug.

“Bitch, I’m about to destroy you,” said Manila, stretching her arms over her head and cracking the knuckles in fingers intimidatingly. She gave Raja an evil smile that was only slightly off-set by her blissed-out expression.

Raja gulped, now regretting her choice to tease her friend. She knew Manila was competitive, but what beast had she awakened?

“Now show me where you keep your vibrators and get on your back,” ordered Manila, with a deliciously authoritative grin.

Raja’s heart leapt and the warmth between her legs, which had much been waiting for this moment all day, flared back to violent, excited life. She told Manila where the sex toys were and rolled onto her her back, pulling off her underwear and tossing them aside, so glad to be fully naked. Raja couldn’t wait to see what Manila could do.

Finally.

Manila selected a small purple vibrator from Raja’s extensive collection in the plastic bin under her bed, and sat back up. Raja lay out before her, stretching like a happy cat, a pleased expression on her face under her half-lidded, bloodshot eyes. Her body was beautiful, long and lithe with subtle curves. Manila couldn’t help but feel honoured that Raja was showing herself to her like this. A few days ago she’d have never thought this would happen in like, real life, outside of her fantasies.

The earth-shattering orgasm from a few minutes ago had been, uh. Phew. Manila’s body responded strongly to Raja’s presence, and she felt tired and a little faded. But the opportunity to please Raja in return was one Manila couldn’t pass up.

Plus, she kind of liked the whole bossy thing that Raja was bringing out in her.

Manila crawled on top of Raja and gently kissed her neck, holding herself barely an inch above her so that their bodies weren’t quite touching. All those abdominal workouts at the gym were proving handy. Raja’s neck tasted amazing, and she made a sound that was somewhere between a moan and a purr that Manila really really liked. Raja caressed her waist, and arched her back, pressing herself up into Manila, their skin practically tingling where it met.

“You’re so beautiful,” sighed Raja. “I’m like so lucky,”

Manila smiled to herself and then sucked down hard on the corner of Raja’s neck where it met her shoulder. Raja let out an undignified squeak and Manila bit her just a little, knowing she’d have a reddish purple hickie bloom on Raja’s light brown skin later, and Raja moaned and arched into her further, wrapping her arms around Manila’s back and holding her close.

Manila tried to make some more space between their bodies, but Raja wasn’t really letting her. But Manila managed to sneak her hand between their bodies, flicking on the vibrator, and slid it between Raja’s legs, which she spread eagerly for her with a happy sigh. Raja was incredibly uninhibited, and that only encouraged Manila, making her bolder. It was so freeing to be intimate with someone like this and not worry about judgement. Or maybe that was just the weed talking.

But Raja was moving against her, rubbing herself up against the vibrator pressed between them, tangling her hand in Manila’s hair as she kissed her neck. Manila couldn’t help but fantasize about what else they might do as she held the buzzing device against Raja, drawing her pleasure out, from lazily fucking all afternoon to maybe a few more hardcore things… hopefully involving strap-ons, she was fairly sure she’d seen something like that in Raja’s box of sex toys.

Manila shifted the vibrator to a slightly different angle and Raja whimpered into her ear. Manila moved it gently against her, and reached between them again with her opposite hand to toy with her nipple.

Raja seemed to really enjoy that, because she arched her back and moaned something incoherent, rutting against the vibrator. Manila shifted down so she could lick and suck on Raja’s opposite nipple, pinching the other one as Raja let out an exhilarated yelp, and clutched Manila close, pressing her fingers into her back and rolling her hips. Raja’s body lithe arched and her breath was heavy, and then she slowed her hips, with a final little twitch.

“Did that feel good?” asked Manila, as she stood back up on her hands and knees and clicked the vibrator off, tossing it aside. She couldn’t help but ask, she wanted the approval.

“Mmm, yes,” replied Raja, sitting up and kissing her lazily. “But I’m not done, I want more of you…”

Manila smiled, almost blushing at Raja’s raw, simple statement of desire. But then Manila had an idea, and she turned on her back, lying next to Raja, who cuddled into her instinctively. It was so cute that Raja was physically affectionate, both platonic and romantic in equal measure, just like the way she’d been with her since they’d started being friends, but now with a different energy.

“Get up and sit on my face,” ordered Manila.

Raja blinked at her, and then grinned and got up with a slight grunt, straddling Manila’s chest with her long, beautiful legs bent at the knee.

“Have you ever done this before?” asked Raja, looking down at her, her long dark hair framing her face.

Manila narrowed her eyes, trying to keep her gaze on Raja’s face and not just stare at her pussy, which was really very much in her line of vision. Instead she ran her hands up Raja’s thighs and gripped her hips, pulling her closer.

“A lady never tells.”

“Oh, so you’re a lady now?” chuckled Raja, brushing Manila’s hair back so that she didn’t kneel on it as she shuffled forward, holding herself just above Manila.

“I’ve done it a couple times, it’s not that hard, come on,” whined Manila, vaguely realizing that her vow to tease Raja and make her suffer wasn’t going very well at this rate. Somehow she’d ended up being the one begging, again. In the future, when Manila had gotten used to this and was a little more, uh, composed around Raja, Raja would be the one begging. Definitely. For sure.

But Manila had a lot more important things to focus on, as Raja carefully lowered herself onto her face and Manila tilted her head back slightly, and held Raja’s hips. For once Manila didn’t doubt herself, they were figuring all of this out after all, emotionally and physically, and had plenty of time to do so.

If Raja was the kind of person who felt embarrassment about sexual situations, she might’ve felt a little embarrassed sitting on Manila’s face right now, or even embarrassed by how badly Manila seemed to want her. Luckily, Raja didn’t really feel embarrassed about sex, especially when she had a little weed in her. So, she very carefully held herself in place, sitting down but not putting the entirety of her weight on Manila’s face. She really didn’t want to break her friend’s neck, and/or accidentally suffocate her, that would not be a fun way to end the afternoon.

Manila lapped gently at her folds, quickly locating her clit and swirling her soft, velvety tongue around it. Raja exhaled through her nose, pleasure mixing with the hazy sensation in her mind, her aroused body quickly shifting back into gear. Mmm, Manila was so soft…

Okay, maybe she was a little more than soft, because she holding Raja’s hips very decisively, and encouraging her to rock against her. While Raja definitely didn’t want to hurt her or put on too much pressure the temptation to move was really strong. So Raja did, just a little.

Vaguely aware that she her own bodily juices were dripping all over Manila’s face and chin, Raja leaned forward slightly try to get a grip on the wall, her palms flat out.

“Is this- are you okay?” asked Raja, the shake in her voice giving her away as a a ripple of pleasure went through her body.

Manila nodded, confidently wrapping her arm around Raja’s thigh and pressing her in even closer.

“Mmh-” managed Raja, grinding slowly against Manila’s nose and mouth as Manila flicked her tongue against the delicate, tender skin around the entrance of her pussy, before pushing her tongue up inside her.

The wall wasn’t giving Raja much support, her sweaty palms were slipping and she didn’t know what to do with her hands. But this felt so good, the precarious feeling like she was unravelling. Manila’s lidded gaze flicked up to meet hers, and Raja was sure her face must have been ridiculous, her mouth open, panting and desperate with pleasure. Manila’s gaze was mischievous. Damn it.

A moan escaped Raja, and she wondered if it was the weed that was making her hyperaware of her hands right now, as Manila slipped her tongue in and out of her, building her up, and Raja ground herself on Manila’s face, hoping she wasn’t hurting her, babbling, “This feels so good, I- oh my god, fuck, Manila-“

This only seemed to invigorate Manila further, as she sucked on her clit in a way that made Raja’s eyes roll back in her head, as she felt the slick of sweat on her back. Raja slumped forward, and her hands managed to find the low board running across the head of her bed, which she’d forgotten about until this moment. Raja gripped it with one hand to make sure she wasn’t putting all her weight on Manila, and looked down again.

Manila’s beautiful hair was all shoved up behind her head to keep it safe from Raja’s knees. Raja tangled her hand in the beautiful black curls, the texture practically alive under her extra-sensitive fingertips. Manila somehow managed to nod that that was okay, and it electrified Raja even further and the entire world could have been burning and Raja wouldn’t have noticed, gasping as the pleasure wound higher and higher and her entire body tensed and unravelled.

After a several long moments of white-hot pleasure and astral-projection into outer space, Raja blinked and shuffled off of Manila, shivering from the aftershocks. Manila blinked, and turned her head to the side, cracking her neck. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, attempting to clean up the combination of Raja’s slick juices and her own saliva that was all over half of her face.

“Is your neck okay?” said Raja, her voice weak as she slid down next to Manila to cuddle. “Also, you might need a towel.”

“Yeah, my neck is fine,” replied Manila smugly. “Did I destroy you?”

“Yeah, you really did,” sighed Raja, pressing her face into Manila’s neck and breathing in, “I knew this was going to be awesome.”

Manila laughed quietly and kissed her cheek.

“I think we should have a nap,” whispered Raja, hazy relaxation taking over her limbs, “Then a snack, and some more weed, and then we can make out again later. Do you want to stay?”

“I have that research assignment I should be working on…” replied Manila, but she didn’t make any effort to get up, instead she reached over to the other side of the bed and grabbed the end of Raja’s blanket, pulling it around them both and snuggling in, “…but a nap sounds nice too.”

Raja couldn’t help but smile, slipping her arm around Manila’s waist and holding her close as she relaxed into a a gentle doze.

They’d finally stopped joking and dancing around each other, and it felt really, really good.

“I’m like so happy you rescued me from the grocery store that time a few weeks ago,” sighed Raja, reflecting on how it had all began, and passing her joint to Manila, who was tangled up in her lap on the living room couch.

After the excellent sex-filled afternoon a week ago, and several more conversations about feelings and boundaries, Raja and Manila had arrived at an arrangement of casual dating. They’d both just handed in major assignments and as such, were taking a break from the endless deluge of schoolwork to chill out. The relationship so far was great, relaxed and low-pressure enough for Raja to feel comfortable, but intentional and committed enough to suit Manila’s needs. Raja hadn’t felt this way about anybody else before, and was still working out what it meant, if anything. But more importantly, they were being honest with each other, and that was very sexy, and things felt really fucking good.

“Ha,” chuckled Manila, inhaling and blowing smoke back into Raja’s face, “Anytime, Raja. You’re a ridiculous human.”

“No, you are,” said Raja affectionately, kissing her ear and then moving a little lower to gently nuzzle her neck.

“They’re disgusting,” stated Delta from their left side, with a smile at the edge of her mouth as she played Super Smash Bros with Carmen, “I knew this would happen.”

“Yeah Raja, you’re so embarrassing,” laughed Carmen from their right side, leaning forward with the controller, and competing with Delta on the screen. Manila laughed along with her, and poked Raja’s side, teasing her.

“Aren’t you gonna fight her for my honour or something?” whined Raja to Manila in complaint.

“Nope,” chuckled Manila, kissing her cheek.

“You’re right, they’re terrible,” complained Carmen to Delta, but she accepted the joint that Manila passed to her anyway, with a smile.

Something interesting stirred in Raja’s stomach at Manila’s casual threat and she cuddled her a little closer, already excited to head up to her room later.

“We should make some ground rules,” stated Delta, jabbing at the controller, “No sex on the couch, for example.”

“Yeah, we already broke that one,” said Raja, with an evil grin.

“Oh my god, the couch is communal!”

“Wait, this couch?” demanded Carmen, mildly disgusted, glancing down at the cushions she was sitting on.

“Do we have another one?”

“No…”

“Okay, let go of me,” said Manila, gently removing Raja’s hand from around her waist and leaning forward, reaching for a controller. “I’m gonna join the melee.”

Delta and Carmen finished up their round as Manila got set up, and Raja reached past Carmen’s back to the side of the couch for some chips. Mmm, salt. Raja didn’t particularly feel like playing video games today, she just wanted to keep smoking and relax, but she didn’t mind if her friends did so around her. She shuffled so that she was sitting with her legs open with Manila between them, leaning forward. Manila’s body language was focused, and her thumbs moved rapidly over the joystick and the letter buttons, her grip was confident on the plastic controller.

Without needing to ask, Raja gently took Manila’s hair out of it’s ponytail, and carded her hands through it. Manila gossiped back and forth with Carmen and Delta, letting Raja gently weave little braids into her hair while they fought and trounced one another on the screen.

An easy, affectionate feeling came over Raja, one that was both familiar and new, glowing in her chest. Raja wondered vaguely if it was just the weed talking, again.

No, Raja realized as she heard Manila laugh and smiled to herself, this feeling had nothing to do with weed.

It was love.

#rpdr fanfiction #rajila #raja gemini #manila luzon #lesbian au #college au #smut #fluff #everybody knows you're high #dartmouth420 #tw weed

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annisnothere · 3 years

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BINJIN’s Synastry

Posting it here on tumblr for a more comprehensive take on their synastry, because 280 characters on twitter and twenty tweets isn’t enough <3 these are only aspects since we have no idea what their birth time is!

Hyun Bin’s Sun (Libra) trines Son Ye Jin’s Venus (Aquarius), Son Ye Jin’s Sun (Capricorn) trines Hyun Bin’s Venus (Virgo)

This aspect is basically having mutual support in each other. They share the same, if not similar, perception and common ground that helps them get along. Both of them may have felt an instant connection. His identity, which thrives on social settings, compliments her friendly and eccentric outlook on love, while her capable and persevering identity attracted his analytical take on romance.

Hyun Bin’s Sun (Libra) trines Son Ye Jin’s Mercury (Aquarius), Son Ye Jin’s Sun (Capricorn) squares Hyun Bin’s Mercury (Libra)

The both of them mentally stimulate each other. He admires how rational and objective she can be, yet she might find him superficial because his thoughts and opinions are too diplomatic for her. She might want to challenge him with being much more assertive.

Hyun Bin’s Sun (Libra) conjuncts Son Ye Jin’s Mars (Libra), Son Ye Jin’s Sun (Capricorn) semi squares Hyun Bin’s Mars (Sagittarius)

Both of them are highly sexually attracted to each other. Her sexual expression that mainly revolves through negotiation and foreplay fits his identity, and she may see him as an ideal partner. She might deem him a bit adventurous for her taste but the sex will be intense nonetheless (*ast and *steam i hope you don’t know tumblr).

Hyun Bin’s Sun (Libra) sextiles Son Ye Jin’s Uranus (Sagittarius)

Here they do not have the pressure of being reduced to the shadow of the other, and can stand alone just fine. He finds her very exciting and stimulating as a person, and she’ll do things that will spice up their relationship. There’s going to be constant changes happening.

Hyun Bin’s Sun (Libra) squares Son Ye Jin’s Neptune (Sagittarius)

She might promise more than what she could give to him. This is an aspect where both of them had felt like they have found the one, especially on his part, but his thoughts are very hazy. He might feel a bit of mistrust because she can be a bit evasive because she doesn’t want to hurt him. His savior complex might come in when she has a problem.

Hyun Bin’s Moon (Capricorn) squares Son Ye Jin’s Mars (Libra), Son Ye Jin’s Moon (Leo) trines Hyun Bin’s Mars (Sagittarius)

Let me get this out of my chest. This is a baby making aspect because this aspect increases fertility and that they might talk about having babies together. At first she might have been feisty towards him as a way of teasing because of his rigidness, which made him go back a few steps, but as soon as he becomes comfortable towards her he banters back. Then, the sparks fly (Lots of sex too pls calm down). He’s very protective of her kind of like in a Twilight-esque way, and she gives him the emotional connection that she wants.

Hyun Bin’s Moon (Capricorn) conjuncts Son Ye Jin’s Neptune (Sagittarius)

Wow they might have that psychic connection with each other or something because this aspect basically says that both of them are in tune with each other’s emotions. Because of this, it gives off a feeling of attachment to each other even if they are apart.

Hyun Bin’s Moon (Capricorn) sextiles Son Ye Jin’s Pluto (Libra)

This makes them confide in each other and have these intense feelings that are greatly welcomed by the two of them. Its a really passionate relationship. As he tends to keep emotions to himself, he confides in her, and she soothes his inner emotional problems. Man she hates it when he’s sad. He understands her inner turmoil. (Aspect goals honestly)

Hyun Bin’s Mercury (Libra) trines Son Ye Jin’s Venus (Aquarius)

She probably loves his voice so much lol I mean, Mercury Libras are very flirty with words. I think because of this aspect, both of them might become a bit more understanding on their difference when it comes to expressing love.

Hyun Bin’s Venus (Virgo) squares Son Ye Jin’s Neptune (Sagittarius)

This is a good aspect for them, but to the eyes of others, it can be unstable. Both of them may have delusional thoughts (especially him). I guess knowing how and where to draw the line between them needs to happen because they might sabotage each other in the end.

Hyun Bin’s Venus (Virgo) sextiles Son Ye Jin’s North Node (Cancer)

Instant attraction. They might have been fated to meet. Everything seemed to fall into place perfectly and they really get along. This relationship has them learning a lot of lessons.

Hyun Bin’s Venus (Virgo) trines Son Ye Jin’s Chiron (Taurus)

TBH, the 3-degree orb (difference in degrees between planets) of this might have lessened the effects of this aspect, but I’m still putting this out of hope. Healing within each other will be the major theme that revolves around this aspect, and can be a common aspect in marriage.

Hyun Bin’s Mars (Sagittarius) sextiles Son Ye Jin’s Venus (Aquarius)

There’s that playful banter we see and both of them satisfy each other well romantically and sexually. She is very attracted towards him, and he makes her feel like a woman. They might be compelled to touch each other frequently.

Hyun Bin’s Mars (Sagittarius) conjunct Son Ye Jin’s Uranus (Sagittarius)

LOL I’m convinced they were probably interested in each other early on because this is fairly intense in a way that its out of the norm. They’re experimental when it comes to sex, and she finds him very hot.

Hyun Bin’s Jupiter (Scorpio) square Son Ye Jin’s Moon (Leo)

Honestly this aspect is nice because they both hype each other up but then they might not see the relationship if it ever goes down to a negative state. They feel their feelings in a much more heightened state. Its like when one offends the other, the offended can feel hurt more that what they have expected.

Hyun Bin’s Jupiter (Scorpio) Square Son Ye Jin’s Venus (Aquarius)

He might spoil her, and the feelings they share is a bit too on the nose for people (look at how the media already guessed in their movie tours). They laugh together a lot and would probably laugh during sex. I think it’s nice if they don’t over indulge but they’re rich so i guess its fine.

Hyun Bin’s Saturn (Libra) squares Son Ye Jin’s Sun (Capricorn)

If I’ll be honest, this is a very difficult aspect, as he might nag and be critical of her and she might feel discouraged about it. It’s that feeling when you have someone you impress, but the other person isn’t. There’s this teacher student relationship being reflected. On a positive note, this aspect is common in married couples. Squares are meant to be friction and challenge that a couple must go through and with maturity and all the other good aspects they have, then they’ll last long.

Hyun Bin’s Saturn (Libra) square Son Ye Jin’s North Node (Cancer)

This is like, a tie between them, because north node is ultimately your purpose, yet it squares the planet that serves as glue in the relationship. Its like they will still cross each other’s paths even if they break up. This is a long term relationship aspect, and usually from what I’ve read people with this aspect go through on-off situations but they ultimately go back together.

Hyun Bin’s Uranus (Sagittarius) trines Son Ye Jin’s Moon (Leo)

This is the best friends and lovers aspect, because they get each other well. There’s this feeling of comfort coming from her towards him and it makes him easier to open up with her because of how “fun” the leo moon is.

Hyun Bin’s Pluto squares Son Ye Jin’s Sun (Capricorn)

It’s intense and attractive, but it may cause power trips from the both of them if they don’t know how to yield for each other. Then again, they have certain lighter aspects which makes it better for them to slow down and compromise.

Hyun Bin’s North Node (Cancer) square Son Ye Jin’s Mars (Libra)

In this one his purpose had squared with her ability to take action, which can lead to conflict. However, they are compelled to work on this action and he will guide her to harness that action to her own purpose as well as what both wanted.

In general Binjin is that couple who clearly couldn’t get enough of each other, and it can either be their asset or their downfall. Keeping a realistic outlook on the dynamics of their relationship will gladly help the longevity of their relationship. He is the forgiving one, she’s the understanding one. When their birth times fall into an easy place then it can be easier to solve problems like these. 💖

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royalreef · 4 years

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“ 𝐻𝓊𝓏𝓏𝒶𝒽! ” There’s officially 400 of you following my dear fish princess! When I started this blog, I never thought I would’ve gotten this far, but this community has been so welcoming and supportive. It’s truly been a joy to write with everyone, and I never would’ve gotten here if it weren’t for all of you encouraging me and my writing. Writing an underappreciated character, and especially with the amount of my canon divergence, brought me to always assume that I’d have a much smaller audience for it - and I’m glad to say that I’ve been proven wrong!

But really, I wouldn’t have gotten anywhere near where I am today without the sheer amount of creativity and talent already present in the rpc. Every day I am blown away by the sheer amount of work that is being put into blogs and muses both, and every day I am awestruck at the replies that I read! And you’ve been there through thick and thin, so I think it’s about time I give a little back and show my appreciation.

👑 The Low Royals

For those of you who have been with me the longest, who have seen the growth and fine-tuning, and even potentially helped me shape this blog into what it is now - I raise a glass to you! You’re all my good friends, and I can thank none of you enough. I truly do appreciate and care for all of you, though I might be bad at saying it. You’ve all made me laugh, and cry, and feel ten thousand other emotions, and I can only hope to support all of you the same as you’ve supported me.

Tam / @necrodanger / @ruiincd / @rebeljest : You have been here from the beginning, and for that, you are the first upon this list. Where would I be without your help? When my Miranda first started interacting with your Val, much like the princess not knowing how deeply she’d fall in love with the pauper, I did not know how such a wonderful friendship would grow between us. You have been through Hell together with me, and though I may stumble, I trust you. Your companionship has been crucial to so much here, and I can only hope that I have helped you grow as much as you have helped me. You are irreplaceable in your talent and creativity, and you know I look forward to everything you write, all that you draw, and every day that I get to chat with you over Discord. I can never thank you enough, and I am truly in your debt!

Jeremy / @grave-risen / @lioncovrte / @covenwtch / @amalgaemate : Jerm!!! Gosh, what praises can’t I sing of you and your excellent muses? Your characterization is spot on - there’s just such a warmth that you breathe into all of the characters you handle. They truly take on a life of their own in such a special way, with all the unique pitfalls and challenges that come with them! You have such fine little details that I love to see in each individual personality and your devotion to detail is to be admired. Likewise, you’re someone who I know I can trust, as that warmth truly spreads over into you yourself, and you’re just such a welcoming and genuine friend that I know I can just vibe with without any pressure. I really do love the plots we’ve done so far, and really look forward to seeing how Brian and Miranda handle becoming friends again. I may tease about him being a snack, but you know I’m here for all of the emotional curveballs you can throw at me!

Shorp / @pasttorn : I might be bad at chatting you up recently - but as always, you know I adore your Damien and all of the drama that he can cause! He’s a shit-stirrer of a muse, and you know I love the way you write, which together is just a perfect combination for a great time! You’ve also been around a bit longer in the rpc so you’ve seen some shit, and you’ve seen me reboot this blog and remake my lore. And for that, for sticking through as I went completely off the rails, I think that’s a pretty good summary of you! Chill, supportive, and sweet, a good pal all around to just vibe with and have some fun creative blends with!

Lola / @monstersmashed : AH... Oh, how Miranda loves her Marcus, and how I adore all the OCs you make! What kind of talent is it to be able to make so many unique OCs and have them all be so individual in such a way that really shows the quirks that makes each and every one special, and where can I get some of that? I remember Junie when she was much, much newer in the rpc, and I swear my adoration for what you can do with an interesting concept has only grown!! I sincerely love plotting with you and working out how your darlings can interact with my three disasters, and just absolutely a good friend all around.

Oli / @mindsmelded : OLI! I know you’re inactive right now (and honestly, I don’t blame you) but I GOTTA give you my love too! Every single reply from you just gets me EXCITED to read, with how you handle your muses! There’s just a passion and a flow to your prose that I love, and I truly admire how you can detail out exactly how each muse thinks in such a unique style that, even if you didn’t give a name or pronouns, you know EXACTLY which muse is responding! I admire you for that, and really that’s such a valuable skill that I want to master in my own writing too! You’re overall just such a supportive sweetheart who I can trust to talk to, and expect plenty of wholesome memes in return as a pick-me-up!

👑 The Middle Royals

Here is to all who I roleplay regularly with, but maybe don’t chat up as often as I’d like on Discord or through messages, or maybe just haven’t known as long as others. You have such excellent characters that I love to see interact with my fish princess, and I can’t wait to talk to you more! Some have budding relationships with your muse and Miranda that I can’t wait to see blossom into something complex and special all on their own, but all have just wonderful muses who I highly recommend you give a follow if you haven’t already! There’s a truly special amount of care being put into their writing, and I cannot recommend them enough.

Raz / @superbeaucoupdevisages : Honestly I didn’t expect to start to ship Oz and Miranda, but, WHELP, it happened!!! And I’m glad it did, honestly, because these two? Cute. Very cute!! With a whole lot of potential for angst and lore-exploring too! And really, I’m looking forward to it, because the way you write is simple and concise, which leaves it wonderfully IMPACTFUL. It’s short, sweet, and hits right where it hurts!! Which could honestly be said the same as you, as you know how to make your ideas known in as few words as possible. You know how to be there without the need for pretense, and sometimes you really do need someone to be there to get to the heart of issues, and for that, I thank you!

Hannah / @ciiclops / @bingemuscs : Probably the odd one out here as we have known about each other for quite a while, predating my reboot, but we’ve only recently really gotten around to chatting, which is a SHAME. I love just being able to infodump with you about my lovely, lovely arachnids, and Iris has always been such a charm to interact with!! I can’t wait to see how she might interact more with Miranda and how they might get along, as I’m really just a sucker for nerd and prep friendships (or maybe even something more) !!!

Zac / @collectathon : Can I just say that I’m super excited for your Zoe muse already? There’s so much to get into still, and she’s pretty new in terms of Miranda’s interactions, but I can’t WAIT to see what happens! Especially with all the ties Miranda has to the eldritch... Plus, I know to go to you for a good time, and I don’t think I’ll get over Miranda trying to frame Scooby Doo for arson anytime soon! You’re a wonderful friend with such a passion that I look forward to talking to more!

June / @preparetodie / @fullofschmidt : Is it bad to say I genuinely didn’t think much of Aaravi until I found your blog? Because I kinda did! But you have taught me to appreciate and love this fiesty AND VERY SAD slayer in a way I never have before, with such introspections on her character that I haven’t even thought about before recently! Similarly, your Vicky? STUNNING. She’s special in her own way, and honestly I can’t wait to discover more about her. Likewise, I’m looking forward to both of them learning more of Miranda’s specific secrets, and all of the fun turmoil that comes with that! (Plus, your art? So lovely!!! I might just have to commission you sometime!)

Hari / @warraigoe : I love! Your Damien! He’s honestly really funny, and sometimes even I can forget how lighthearted the actual tone of Monster Prom can be - so I think having something a little lighter is really good! Certainly, Miranda appreciates it, pfft! Your passion for writing really comes through, and I gotta say I really admire you going the extra mile to really get people similarly excited for something too! You’re someone who I really would like to chat and write with more often, if only my energy could pan out, because you’re honestly just that interesting! Good vibes, great times all around!

Josie / @galaxietm : We haven’t gotten the chance to write much together yet, but the amount of excitement I get from being able to write with you in the future is telling as to the quality that I’ve observed so far! You really do have just a smooth, chill demeanor to you that I can’t help but get really excited to be able to plot with you, and from what we’ve been able to do so far, it’s been looking really promising for things-to-come with Vera and Miranda! And from what I’ve seen of your prose? Similarly silky-smooth, flows as easy as a river, and just really something that I can’t wait to see more of, along with getting to know you more!

Nigel / @1-0-1-9 : YOU!!! Us meeting on Twitter was such a lovely chance meeting, and your friendship truly was a great birthday gift! I don’t show near as much love to your muse as I wish I did, because gosh you really do care about him and it shows! You’re someone who I could chat with all night though, and you bring up so many things I haven’t quite thought of yet! I really do appreciate having someone there who I can bounce ideas off of regularly, and you’re just excellent for that. You say you’re a dog in a human’s body, and tbh? I absolutely believe that with just how friendly you are!

Mori / @roskaarotta : Molly is one of those OCs who I can just immediately pick out as one of my favorites, with the amount of care you’ve gone into in making her! Your writing with her is a lot like how I see your art with her - absolutely soaked in a killer atmosphere that you can’t get anywhere else. I love how you took demons/angels and put a bit of yourself into them, and the character drama you write is to die for! I love hearing all of Molly’s backstory and really get a grasp of her personality, and you KNOW Miranda loves her Raccoon Wife!!

Rilli / @empatheticxangel / @marquisxofxlove : Speaking of which - YOU ARE ANOTHER EXAMPLE OF SOME OF MY FAVORITE OCs! Liam is such a darling, and you’re another big inspiration in me furthering my own lore! The amount of detail you work with for Liam is awe-inspiring, and I truly love hearing about how his world works and the history it has, alongside his own unique biology! The way you handle his powers is legitimately something I haven’t seen done before, and I think that really just goes to show exactly how much consideration and love is really going into developing him. Not to mention - you DRAW all your icons!! Like, DAMN.

Dani / @candyredmuses / @pxppinmolly / @bluemoonmuses : DANI. NERD. DORK. FELLOW MUN OF A PINK PRINCESS. I cannot say how much I appreciate you! And though we might not chat it up as regularly as some others (basically until I find a meme or song that reminds me of you) - you are on my mind!! Your work on character development CANNOT BE OVERSTATED. I think about Molly and your work on her so often, and she truly inspires me to further work on Miranda and put all the more thought into detailing her out! I might be a cryptid, but you can sight me anyday! (And bonus points for ALSO BEING A FELLOW HORROR-LOVER.)

👑 The High Royals

And here’s to all who I don’t know as well! Who I see on my dash or maybe have a thread or interaction or two with, but don’t chat OOC with that often or that Miranda isn’t totally established with yet! I see you, and I appreciate all that you’re doing and all of the effort that goes into your art and writing, and I look forward to the friendships and further interactions that can come of this!

If you’ve gotten this far and you haven’t been mentioned, then I’m sorry! You’re totally free to leave a comment or somesuch, shaming me for being as forgetful as I am, because you’re really all so wonderful, and I would love to shout everyone out if it weren’t for my bad memory! I love all of you so much, and I’d sincerely like to thank everyone reading this, for getting to this milestone together!

@vibinjustice / @rotaidevxr / @eoleolhan / @prsonatm / @stripedstrigoi / @lovsiik / @anxechoxinxhell / @vnemis / @bigveee / @multiipl / @moonmiissed / @woerended / @chainsxwsmile / @grandtales / @stcries / @yourfuturebcyfriend / @hoopsheartthrob / @xj-nine / @hellishmoth / @soupervillainpotage / @fatedcfied / @muse--menagerie / @hazbinvesta / @pinafcl / @dreamsugargirl / @hollowxport / @canisfuria

#rp promo #follow forever #monster prom rpc #mp rpc #Most secret royal advisor || OOC #Spawning of the Reefs || Promos #(( in case nyall wanted to know what ive been doing all day #(( also dear god i hope all these pings work

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terry-perry · 4 years

Text

Avengers: The Next Generation (A.J. Rogers)

I told myself I wasn’t going to make another one of these, but inspiration struck me. So here’s a little something for the littlest Rogers!

Enjoy!

“A.J.?”

At the call of his name, the boy looked up and locked eyes with Steve.

“Oh, hey Dad,” he greeted him softly, going back to making his PB&J.

“It’s late, son. We’re supposed to be up in a few hours.”

“Yeah, I know. But I couldn’t sleep.” When he was done with his sandwich, he slid it in his father’s direction in offering. “Do you want half?”

“Sure,” Steve walked over to the fridge. “Do you want some milk with it?”

“Yeah, thanks,”

A.J. cut the sandwich in two and then made his way to the kitchen table while Steve poured the glasses and joined him not long after.

“Are you worried about your sisters?” He asked.

“A little. But I know they’ll be all right. They’re really good with their powers, and they’ll be fighting alongside some pretty powerful people too.”

“So is there something else that’s bothering you?” Steve continued to probe.

“Dad-”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But you know you can, right?”

A.J. only let out a slow breath in response, taking a bite of his sandwich next as a tense silence fell between them. Steve knew that there might have been something going on with his youngest child. For the past several weeks, he had been having some trouble with his magic. Unlike Daisy and Nat, he had developed them later in life. It wasn’t until the past year when he had begun to sprout sparks out of his hands and make certain objects appear.

But so far, that had been the extent of his skills. It didn’t matter if he trained with his mother, his uncle Thor, his sisters or any other magic wielders like his Aunt Wanda. There was still little to no development.

“I’m worried about him,” Y/N had expressed one day to Steve while they watched A.J. train with Daisy in the backyard.

“He’ll get there, honey,” Steve assured her, wrapping his arms around her from behind. “He’s just a little late with learning this stuff.”

“That’s not what concerns me. I think this goes deeper that that.”

“Why do you say that?”

She turned around to better explain and rest her head on his chest.

“Remember when I told you that certain emotions can affect your magical abilities?”

He remembered, and he had seen some of it firsthand with the girls. For Daisy, it was the way she had completely shut down as she struggled to come to terms with her feelings for a girl in her class. For Nat, it was the opposite when her boyfriend had broken up with her to date her now ex-best friend; making her lose control of her magic every time she broke down about it. With A.J. now being a young adolescent himself, was he perhaps going through some similar turmoil?

“Do you think there might be something going on with him?” Steve said these thoughts out loud.

“It’s a possibility...”

“I overheard what you were telling Daisy earlier?” A.J. finally confessed in a low voice. His head was dipped down shamefully, like a little boy getting caught breaking something. “You told her that you didn’t care if she wanted to be an Avenger or not. Does that apply to all of us?”

Steve narrowed his eyes in question.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think I want to be a super hero,” A.J. admitted finally and so abruptly, catching himself off guard. He knew this was something that had been plaguing his mind since he got his magic. But he didn’t know he’d be able to talk about it so openly. Especially to his parents.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” he carried on. “I’m proud of the stuff you and Mom did. And I’m happy for Daisy and Nat. I just don’t think it’s for me.”

He spent another second quiet, contemplating the best way to explain himself. “I’ve been able to live without magic for a long time. I want to keep doing that. I just want to mainly spend high school with my friends, and figure out what I want to do afterwards.”

“Like a normal teenager,” Steve finished for him, but saying it more to himself. He had been silent throughout this whole confession so he could lend a good ear to his son as he opened up to him. But as he continued to stay quiet, A.J. began to worry.

“Are you disappointed?”

That got Steve to break himself out of his thoughts and look back up at him. He shook his head with great insistence.

“No,” he answered. “Not in you. A.J., your mom and I never want you kids to think that you have to live up to something. You know the stories with your mom and her family. And you know all about the expectations that were made for me before I joined the Army. Last thing we want is for you to think that we wouldn’t love you and be proud of you no matter what.”

A.J. was his mother’s son, for sure. Daisy might’ve been the one to have inherited {NAME’s} tact and fair-mindedness, but their youngest had gotten her humility and mostly gentle nature. The traits that had been more visible during her childhood when she did her best to keep up with her older brothers. Now here was A.J., afraid of becoming his own person after all the praise Daisy and Nat garnered from mastering their abilities. It didn’t help that he also inherited his father’s naturally skinny stature that he was doing his best to work on with Jack Barnes.

“You’re only 15,” Steve continued. “You have a lot of time to figure out what it is you want. Just remember that the only thing we’ll care about is if you’re happy and leading a good life.”

A.J. seemed to perk up a little at that, though he also seemed to still be a bit uncertain.

“I’d still want to train,” he said. “Just so I can have a good control over my magic.”

“We’ll talk to Mom about it tomorrow after we see your sisters off,”

“Are you sure she won’t be mad?”

Steve shook his head some more. “Just the opposite. She was more worried about something going on with you that we didn’t know about. She’ll be happy that you’re sharing this with us. And it should also make things easier with your training.”

“I hope so,”

They finished their late night sandwiches in peaceful silence. And when Steve glanced up from his plate, he saw a lighter, smiling face full of optimism and hope across from him. A smile he was all too familiar with.

#dad!steve rogers #series #mcu au #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #asgardian!reader #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #child oc #Marvel MCU #marvel imagine #Avengers #avengers imagine #MCU #MCU fanfiction #captain america x reader #A.J. Rogers

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fairycosmos · 4 years

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hi chloe 💕 I need some help and you’re so beautiful and wise. I have been dating a lot and face rejection after rejection. I’ll get to know someone, go out a few times, and sometimes get really excited and into them. they compliment me constantly, tell me I’m attractive, sweet, caring, and interesting, but then they say they don’t feel a connection or spark. I’m so sad. I feel like everyone I meet says I’m such a catch but no one actually wants me, even when we have tons in common :(

thank u sm for seeing me so positively my love, thats really sweet of you 🥺 and i’m so sorry to hear you’re struggling with this right now. if you want to know what i think.... i think it’s very normal to get discouraged when you’ve been in the dating game for a while, trying to find something that sicks. it’s one of the most frustrating things about seeking romance/connection - when you’re looking for it everywhere it evades you, then suddenly hits you like a ton of bricks in the way you were least expecting it to. just out of nowhere. and we rarely get to choose how or when it happens down to the letter. sometimes it seems like fates playing a stupid game. it can feel like a waste of time or like a never ending cycle, so i’d suggest being kind and patient with yourself when the anger or the sadness regarding it flares up. rather than trying to make sense of it or trying to push it away. just let it sit with you and then breathe and let it go. even if you have to let it go over and over again. recognize that emotions are temporary storms of inner turmoil, they’re not facts or reflective of your future. and confronting them head on - through crying, through talking to your loved ones about whats going on, through writing, anything you find cathartic - can make them feel a lot lighter. then it’ll become easier to accept the bottom line, which is that the spark, unfortunately, cant be forced. and that isn’t a matter of personal fault, or because you have some great unforgivable flaw. look the thing is, you are attractive and sweet and caring and interesting and you had all of those traits before anybody recognized them, and so you will continue to have them whether you’re single or married 10 years from now...it’s not necessarily about you even though i totally understand why it feels 100% personal. it’s just that two people falling for each other at exactly the right moment in exactly the right way in exactly the right environment is a lot rarer than most of us want to admit. the time has to be right in both peoples lives. they have to be ready to put as much into it as you are and if they’re not then it’s not because you don’t deserve it, it’s because the future needs to leave room for the person who actually is right for you. i promise, your worth doesn’t lie in how wantable you are. you’re a whole person and the bond that you’re looking for is going to be a collaboration of feelings and friendship and romance and love, not based on someone falling for you because you have the entire world to offer them. they’ll love you any way, even on the days that you’re not sweet and caring and at your best. you know? it’s about life working out enough to a point where both ppl can foster such a connection, imo. i know it probably seems impossible to apply this to the context of your life right now, with how downtrodden you feel and how long its been, and thats totally understandable. but i hope you can at least try to consider letting go the idea that self blame is the way to go, cause it’s not. you have so much more time than you realize, to experience true and real romantic love. it can happen in different ways over and over, at 25, at 40, at 70. as long as you’re open to it, it’s out there for you. god i hope this doesn’t sound patronizing, or like i even know anything about it because really my beliefs are based on what i’ve observed. thats all...and i’d appreciate anyone elses imput who has been through something similar. but despite that, i’m pretty certain that you are a catch, angel. you’re just tired and worn out, and probably younger than you feel. and maybe need to take a break from trying to find love at every corner. instead let it rush up to meet you when it chooses. im sending you a lot of warmth and i hope you’re taking care of yourself first and foremost. i’ll be here if you need a friend 🐝

#just my op in ee on x #anon

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theonewiththeory · 5 years

Text

Spring

My entry for @jonsadreamofspring

Day 1 (Monday 17th) seasons / songs / quotes

Spring was always beautiful in Winterfell. The snow laid in Goodswood, covering everything in delicate quilt, but it wasn’t as frosty as half a year ago and air didn’t bring the smell of death anymore. Better days were coming, or the prophecies told them so, but grew out of tales like this a long time ago. Despite that, warmth carried a strange spell, her furs were lighter this day, and so was her duty. She was at the only place no one would dare to disturb her, and that’s precisely why she should leave this place soon. Just a little while longer.

Quiet footsteps destroyed the delicate patterns snow created on the ground.

“Your Grace?”

“Yes?”

“Your cousin has arrived.”

She sighed, standing up. Calm and delicate things never last anyway.

***

He waited in her solar. With the warmth, the fear of lack of wood and food was dissipating fast and the fireplace was lit, fire crinkling merrily, illuminating his face. He was standing before her desk, facing the doors, hands behind his back. Waiting. He looked different than before; she couldn’t pinpoint the reason though. Surely, the years behind the wall changed him. But she immediately recognised the gruff of his voice, the soft way of speaking seemingly reserved just for her. The intimate little smile, almost as he couldn’t help himself.

“You called on me, Your Majesty.”

Sansa scowled at the sound of her title but reigned in her emotions quickly. This fight, she wouldn’t win like that. She learned it the last time he was here.

“Cousin” she walked closer to him, slowly, taking of her gloves and standing just before him. “You rode faster than I anticipated.”

Now he seemed to be at loose of words. Good.

“Yes, well... I was sure you needed me. Urgently.” And she knew he was telling the truth. The letter she sent was vague, though she didn’t mean to scare him.

“Nothing frightening has happened, if that’s what you’re asking. But I do need you” She stood up a little straighter. “From now on, you are pardoned from every crime you committed and are free to walk the North as you please.” He was visibly shocked, taking a step back and shooking his head.

“Sansa, no. I...”

“I governed the North during the Long Night” She interrupted him. “I did everything I could for my people to survive. But I’m tired and I can’t do it alone anymore. So, I ask for your help, Jon Targaryen.”

He didn’t respond, just stared at her unbelievingly. Then, as if he made his decision, he nodded sharply and made a move to exit the room. Once again, Sansa stopped him, raising her hand and almost touching his chest.

“We have a lot more to discuss, if you agree” She tried to make him look at her, make him understand. She didn’t want to command him. She was giving him a choice.

Jon inhaled sharply and finally looked up, his eyes searching. She let her hand fall but didn’t back down. Their breaths mingled. Sansa felt tension tingling in her body but made no move, willing herself to calm down, her heart to stop pounding so rapidly. Just as she started to grow restless, she saw Jon’s eyes softening and his posture relaxing.

“Aye, my Queen. I will do everything what I can to help you” Sansa let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and felt her lips lifting in a relieved smile.

“I will send for supper. A long night awaits us” Jon returned the smile, catching her midstep, taking her captive, just with his eyes. Her mind went blank, only one thought appearing beside the tangle of emotions she couldn’t hold at bay anymore.

Oh, how sweet it was to see him again.

***

He didn’t stay for long. She should’ve expected that, after all. Summer was upon them, the snow no longer stayed on the ground, when she had to say her goodbyes again. She held him tightly, when the time came, and she couldn’t resist thinking, that he too didn’t want to let her go. Her fingers were clinging to his new fur, the one she made during many nights in her solar, when both he and Ghost kept her company. But the lightness in her chest and fire that burned in her veins slowly faded, as he took a small step back, keeping his eyes just above her head. The cold was creeping back in, as she watched him from the walls, riding back north. In the evening, when she closed the doors of her room and started to undress, she felt completely frozen.

***

The day wasn’t different than the others, not really. Lately, all her life faded into unrecognizable blur of requests, letters, talks and numbers. She rarely slept anymore, but it wasn’t as bad, because dreams didn’t let her rest anyway. The day turned into the night and she barely noticed, slouched behind the desk. Just one more parchment, letter, report... Small flame of the candle flickered as she reached for the next paper. Her hand trembled before she touched it with the quill. Impulsively, she wrote just two words.

Come home.

***

The summer was ending and turning into the autumn when she felt his arms around her again. The inner turmoil she felt since she sent that letter silenced immediately when she saw him riding through the gate. His embrace was warm and firm; Jon was wearing furs that she made him, but they were battered and ripped off in a few places. But it didn’t matter, she will make him new ones, better suited for the weather behind the wall. After a moment, Jon dropped his hands and stepped back. Then, to her surprise, he kneeled.

“My Queen” he rasped, a smile evident in his voice. Sansa had to bite her lip to stop herself from smirking.

“Jon” she said coming closer and touching his shoulders lightly to make him rise. “I thought your kind doesn’t kneel before anyone?” she asked, quirking her brow.

“Only for you, Your Grace.”

***

Jon was different. Not a trace of a boy was left in him. He was strong, confident, he emanated grace, the years behind the wall made him sure of himself, of his role and his ability to lead. Sansa watched him from above, as he walked through the courtyard, speaking with men, as she asked him to do. People were respectfully bowing before him, even as he constantly tried to correct them. It would be more efficient to just let them be, but he was relentless.

Sansa smiled. There were also different features that caught her attention. Longer hair, maybe it would be better if she cut them; little limp when he walked, has he been injured? She will have to ask him about it. Changed manner of speaking, surely Tormund and his men rubbed off on him. His upper body was leaner, but still strong. Again, even his presence was waking the feelings she fought to temper down, to lock in the box to be forgotten.

Jon turned around, possibly sensing her stare and raised his hand. There was warm feeling spreading in her chest, her lungs suddenly too little to breath freely. She managed to smile in response.

“Your Grace?” a little dazed, Sansa looked at her maester. Oh yes. She had to keep going. There will be plenty of time tonight. For now, she left her place and her daydreams to brave the real world.

***

She knew there were whispers. She took the majority blame on herself, her people surely noticed she behaved different around Jon. More freely. Like she had something to live for. Sansa was sometimes wondering, lying in her bed, if he also had noticed. Jon wasn’t a fool, as he sometimes described himself, but he could be quite oblivious. But others weren’t. She never heard anything, but she saw the looks they gave her when they were together. They already treated Jon as a king, maybe this was a natural progression?

She wanted it to be. Gods, how much she wanted.

But she noticed he was getting restless again. And she had nothing to offer him. Nothing besides herself. But he didn’t want her.

Sudden knocking tore her from unsettling thoughts. She frowned. Who could it be in this hour? Lately, the North was calm, there was no trouble that couldn’t wait until she got a few hours of sleep. Unless...

She got out of bed. And behind the doors was the last person she expected. Though maybe she should have known.

“Jon?”

For a moment he didn’t say anything, he just looked, and for the first time since they reunited, she couldn’t read him. Sansa squirmed under his gaze, nervous all the sudden. She wringed her hands but didn’t say anything.

Good wives didn’t question their husbands.

But he wasn’t her husband, he wasn’t her King, he wasn’t...

“Sorry” his voice tore through her thoughts. Sansa looked at him again. He was hunched over, almost making himself smaller than her and shifted form foot to foot, like he was lost.

But it didn’t make sense. It was Winterfell. It was their home.

“I just... I think I will leave soon” he said abruptly and send her thoughts spiralling again, deep into the darkest part of her. The demons she tried to lock up and throw away the key came back just as easily this time, when she watched Jon smiling sadly and slowly turning away from her.

Everyone always leaves. Everyone leaves her, and she will always be alone, she is never enough, not for anyone, not for him...

Her hand catched his wrist before she can even think about it, as if her instinct knew better what she needed. Jon stopped and turned back, eyeing her hand, still tightly holding his.

“Sansa?”

“Stay” she whispered, uninvited tears welling in her eyes. The air was thick with tension and she had problem with swallowing against gulp in her throat.

Maybe there will never be the right time. Maybe he didn’t want her. But she was tired, oh so tired of holding back around him.

“Stay with me.”

She knew he didn’t understand what she meant. She loosened her grip and drew small circles on his wrist. The silence was interrupted with loud hitch in his breath. He slowly raised his hand, touching her cheek, looking for any reaction, any sign of discomfort. Sansa leaned into his careful touch and smiled, just a little, as she let herself get lost in this moment. When she looked up and met his eyes, she could only see love and adoration. Had she really been so blind?

She didn’t know how long they stayed that way. But when she asked again, he accepted eagerly. And the next spring the North welcomed new Stark, a beautiful girl, Lyanna, along with their Queen and King.

#jonsa #jonsadreamofspring #Jon x Sansa #jonsa fanfiction #after season 8 #fix-it #day one #seasons #i wrote this instead of studying #look! a happy ending #and a wee bit of angst

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creator-zee · 4 years

Text

I pulled the hood of my cloak up as I walked through the camp. Shame filled me. I couldn’t believe that I had lost controlled and almost killed Jasper. The angry shouts of his soulmate, Kyra, bounced through my head, playing on repeat.

“Fix him, you monster!”

“Couldn’t you see he was defeated?”

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Get the fuck away!”

I had mostly healed him by the time she had arrived, using most of my magic in the process, but he hadn’t woken up yet despite me using my last reserves to finish healing him. After Kyra had eaten me out and taken Jasper to the medic I had stayed in the forest, and fixed myself up as I beat I could with bandages, before donning my armor cloak and weapons and making my way back to camp.

As I walked past groups of friends laughing and talking around campfires it felt so surreal. None of them knew anything was wrong. None of them knew I had almost killed Jasper in a duel. They probably hadn’t even recognized the sounds of two dragons dueling. And even if they had, they probably didn’t care. Laughter, joy, even the cheery light of the fires contrasted the raging turmoil of self-hate that filled me.

I opened the flap to the tent I was sharing with my roommate, who also happened to be my soulmate, expecting silence and solitude, or at least a refuge from the joy of the rest of the camp. Instead, I found a guy on top of my mate in the middle of a very intense make out session.

Something inside me broke as I turned away. And immense wave of sadness, hopelessness, and dread rose inside of me. Tears fell freely down my cheeks as I ran past the laughter, the light, and the joy to plunge into the dark forest. Shaking breathes, filled with tears, accompanied the thudding of my boots and the snapping of branches as I crashed through the forest. I paused only to strip myself of my clothes, armor, and weapons. Once free of my human restraints, I let my inner beast out. Soft skin turned to hardened scales as fingers turned to claws. I pushed off the ground spreading my dark wings as I sped through the night a mournful howl of pain ripping itself from my chest and escaping through a row of deadly sharp teeth.

45.1

I landed in the cleaning as the early morning rays of the rising sun illuminated the dark blue of my scales. I was exhausted. I had flown all night in a fit of sadness and rage. My mate’s betrayal had cut my very core. The blade she had driven through my heart didn’t compare to my numerous injuries that had yet to heal from the duel. It was much worse. As I pulled on my clothes drearily, I had to fight off tears that threatened to spill again. I had shredded all my bandages in my shift last night, and I couldn’t go back to my tent to get more, so I found myself trudging through the trees to the medical tent. I skirted the outskirts of the still sleeping camp. A few early risers were lounging outside their tents, but most were still fast asleep. I finally entered the camp as I approached the white tent with a red cross. I slipped inside the tent, hoping to just sneak in grab some bandages and leave. I wasn’t sure if I could face anyone.

“Ray!” My hopes were dashed at the cheery tone of Jasper.

I turned slowly to face him. He was the last person I wanted to see since the last time I saw him I was fixing bloody wounds that I had caused.

“Are you okay?” His voice had dropped to a more somber tone as he saw my face, and my miserable expression.

I just shook my head. My throat tightening and preventing words from forming.

The medic on duty, a skimpy guy who’s clothes hung from his lean figure stood from his chair. “How can I help you?”

“I need some bandages.” I managed to choke out, my voice breaking as tears threatened to spill again.

Concern filled his voice, as he asked. “Is that all?” I nodded and he sighed. “Alright. How did you get hurt?”

I wasn’t sure I would be able to form words, but luckily Jasper answered for me. “In a duel with me.”

The doctor tilted his head in confusion. “But you were completely healed, except for being unconscious, when Kyra brought you in. I doubt the fight was completely one-sided.”

Jasper shrugged, looking to me.

I sighed as I accepted the bandages from the doctor. “I healed Jasper, but didn’t have enough magic left to heal myself.” My voice managed only to shake slightly.

“You shouldn’t have done that Ray.” Jasper protested.

I turned away from him, shame building again to join the hurt. “Goodbye Jasper. See you later.” My voice broke at the end as tears slid down my cheeks.

I left the tent retreating to the forest to bandage my injuries, having no safe place left at the camp. I had about one hour to collect myself before the teachers expected us to attend a training session. This trip was mostly a vacation away from school and the academy, an excuse to give the students a much needed break, but they could only justify it as a “school trip” if they did some teaching. Thus, the obligatory daily training session that was an hour after sunrise.

45.2

I stood amongst the crowd of chattering bodies with my hood pulled up to hide my tear stained face and red puffy eyes. The chattering fell silent as two of our teachers, skilled warriors donned in iron armor climbed wooden stairs to a small raised platform.

“For today’s training session you will be learning to fight against different types of opponents. Shifters will be pairing up with non-shifter, and elves with humans or orcs, and so on to accomplish this. Whether shifters choose to shift or not is there choice. Each fighter is different and adaptation is key, so after each round you will find a new partner. A round is ten minutes. There will be ten minutes. Find a partner.” The head combat teacher’s voice boomed across the crowd of students. I turned scanning the faces of strangers. I hated training exercises like these since I knew a total of two people in this entire school. Although, I wasn’t ready to face either.

Someone tapped my shoulder and I turned to face a tall, pretty, elf girl who was wearing traditional elven armor that resembled gold armor but was much lighter and stronger. “You’re not an elf right?” She asked.

I nodded. “Shifter.” My voice was flat lacking an emotion, not great, but preferable to the shaking mess of earlier.

She tried to peer under my hood but I self-consciously tugged it forwards. She gave up, moving into a ready stance, preparing to fight. “What type of shifter?”

I lowered myself into a similar stance a cross from her. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” I answered cynically, although my voice was still flat.

She raised an eyebrow. “That’s why I asked?” She seemed genuinely confused.

I relented feeling slightly bad. “Dragon.” I reached for a dagger that was strapped to my leg. “Though a real opponent wouldn’t tell you.”

She pulled out double short sword from where they were strapped to her back. “You can turn into a massive fire-breathing dragon converted in nearly impenetrable scales that can fly and your choosing to fight with, what, a dagger?” She asked incredulously.

I only tightened my grip on my dagger, a sharp breath escaping through my mouth as the whistle blew, signaling the start of the round.

The elf girl lunged at me and I mainly stepped back dodging her blades. She swung her sword back around stepping towards me again. I danced to the sides avoiding the flashing points. I was grateful for the elf’s ferocity. It meant I had to be completely focused on avoiding the deadly blades she wielded. It meant no stay thoughts of Jasper, his mate, or my mate entered my mind. I continued to only doge the elf’s strikes, using minimal energy as her breaths were reduced to pants mine remained leveled. After a particularly sloppy slash, instead of stepping back I stepped forwards. Right up against the elf’s chest. Too close for her swords to be of much use. My hand holding my dagger was at her throat, barely digging into the flesh, drawing no blood.

I watched as defeat filled her frame and she stepped back. “Well done, dragon.” She congratulated, sourly.

“Don’t put so much energy into each attack.” I advised. “Force your enemy to use as much energy as you, otherwise you end up on uneven ground.”

She smiled, sorrowfully. “Thanks. Uh, what’s your name?”

“Ray.” I said, shortly, a trace of fear present. Most people who knew it were my bullies, I wasn’t ready to have another.

“Phaedra.” She returned in kind. She sheathed her swords extending a sweaty hand. “Nice meeting you.”

I shook her hand. “Likewise.”

She laughed as the whistle blew. “I’ll remember to never underestimate a dagger.”

I nodded as I found another stranger to duel. An orc boy this time. Despite his tall stature, large axe, and brutish form, he was a terrible fighter. He admitted as much when only two minutes into the fight my dagger was at his throat. Eight more fights of varying difficulty found me with several more bruises, a lot of sweat, and a few cuts. I had lost a couple of my fights and some had no victor.

Exhaustion clung to every fiber of my being as I picked myself off the ground from my last fight, one with a human. I longed to return to my tent and collapse on my bed roll, but fear kept me away. Instead I trudged to one of the tents where they wear serving food. I sat down at a rough wooden table by myself, munching on bread while steaming hot stew cooled in front of me.

The bench squeaked in protest as it was forced to support someone else’s weight. I glanced over in surprise, who the hell would willingly sit next to me in the almost empty mess hall tent.

“Hi Ray.” The light voice of the elf, Pheadra, surprised me.

“Hi?” Why did she come sit with me? Surely someone like her had a lot of friends.

She laughed, lightly. “Why do you sound so confused? Have you never had anyone say hi to you before?”

I shook my head. “No. Just not anyone like you.”

“Like me?”

“Someone who isn’t my roommate or sparring partner.”

“Sounds lonely.” She said.

“Why come sit with me?” I asked, curiosity to great and too tired to filter my words.

“Because I’m not blind.” She answered, kindly. “I saw the tears staining your face.” She paused. “I thought you might want a friend.”

I took a bite, chewing in silence. “It’s nothing anyone can help with.” I told her after I finished.

“I doubt that.” She said, but didn’t push it. She turned to her own food and ate in silence. The minutes passed in comfortable silence as we both ate.

As I finished the last of my stew, I finally broke the silence. “My mate cheated on me.” I admitted quietly.

I heard her gasp next to me. “Did she know?” Phaedra asked quietly.

“She must have, she was a shifter.” Irritation and desperation disguising the hurt that I wasn’t sure would ever leave me.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be you didn’t do anything.” I sighed. “We never even talked about being mates although we both must’ve known.” My hands clenched into fists. “I’m so stupid.” I growled.

“How are you stupid?” Her calm tone contrasted mind that was a shifting wave of emotions.

“To believe anyone would ever choose me.” I sighed. “Even my own damn mate chose someone else.”

She didn’t respond just wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me in. I leaned into her grateful just for the comfort of someone else.

“I choose to be your friend.” She whispered, but the words carried to my ears.

“Thank you.” I muttered.

#dragon shifter academy #school #fantasy #shifter #magic #elves #orcs #humans #injury #duels #fighting #cheating #mates #random acts of kindness #writing #not edited

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livingwithashipname-blog · 7 years

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Ermanda’s Inner Sanctum: Scorpion 4.04 “Nuke Kids on the Block”

As much as I loved the end scenes, the episode copied the mission setup of 3.03 It Isn't The Fall That Kills You. I love parallels and moments that recall past Scorpion jobs and tech to solve new problems or heartfelt character & ship developments (e.g., the “bored” Waige parallel to Quintis at the end of 3.15 Sharknerdo). Given that season 4 is a reset of the series, I expect a revisit of various topics to show character development over the past 3 years, but unilateral copies are weird deja vu moments that spoil the magic of the series in my opinion. The remaining elements of the episode were very enjoyable though because they led into the touching end scenes that I think sparked excitement for everyone in this fandom. Let's get into the juicy bits!

Sylvester Dodd, Esq.

Sly is juggling his responsibilities as a Scorpion employee and Alderman of West Altadenia quite well since he uses his experience in one field to assist with another. Now he plans to be Cabe’s defense! Yay! I am guessing he learned his lesson after Heywood Jahelpme Morris! 😂 Anyways, this is a great development because it serves as an extension of a father-son bond Sly and Cabe strengthened during Sly’s Alderman campaign last year. With Patty Logan in the mix, this new arc will be comedic and touching! Sly’s character development has really improved from previous seasons. He gives an amazing speech to rally the team behind his goal to study and pass the bar exam in 2 DAYS!!! All I can say is GO SLY GO!!!

🎧 WE’RE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER - High School Musical cast🎧

Waige

Ow my Waige! Walter supports Happy’s presence because she could act as a buffer if he drones on and on about genius things. He fears the same result will occur with Paige as his previous romantic interests. He really wants this to work after the road it takes for him to get here! And as she does best, Paige finds a unique way to accommodate Walter! This scene takes me back to 2.15 Da Bomb, which is my all-time favorite Waige scene. It reminds us how Paige is different from every other woman in Walter’s life whether she and Walter are on good terms or bad! I love their new dynamic and I look forward to more cuteness from these cuties! 😍😍😍💙💙💙😍😍😍

Baby Quintis

IT'S OFFICIAL!!! Happy wants a baby ASAP!!! EEK!!! 😃😃😃👨‍👩‍👧👶🏻🍼🤗🎉 Given the nature of the press release and the sneak peeks for the episode, the prevailing question amongst the fandom is why Happy wants to spend more time with Waige than her own husband. When Toby realizes Happy’s behavior change is a psychological response to a strong emotional desire, he remains supportive. He is not jealous because he knows how badly Happy wants a family of her own. 💚💚💚💚💚

This is really great for everyone in the fandom who have wanted to see a pregnant Happy since the idea was teased in season 2B! If you have been paying attention, you have noticed the foreshadowing elements that indicate the story's direction. Since the writers teased this storyline at the end of season 3, I have tossed between the direction the writers would choose because of Toby's words to Happy in episode 3.07 We're Gonna Need A Bigger Vote. But this current episode strongly suggests that Quintis' first child will be a bio baby in my opinion. One of the biggest reasons why I am now convinced of this is because Quintis literally can not afford to adopt considering their current financial status. Another is found in Happy's wardrobe, which is uniquely tied to all pregnancy mentions. I forgot to mention this detail in my last review, but there was a significant wardrobe change, reflective of the looser and softer clothing of season 3A. The episode, along with 4.03 Grow A Deer, A Female Deer, also foreshadows how this new arc will unfold.

Happy will carry a child. She has stated that is what she wants. Happy and Toby can not afford adoption. However, TV is funny like that and could create a unique adoption scenario, if desired.

Baby Quintis will be a girl. The fawn from episode 4.03 was female (and spoiler alert: sneak peeks of the next episode reinforce this).

Quintis will struggle with conception because nothing comes easy for these geniuses on this show, even in their personal lives. The writers’ goal in season 3 was to explore how Happy and Toby would navigate a sudden life change given the stress of their current circumstances. This season’s arc will likely test their resolve to develop their EQ and overall preparation for parenthood, teaching patience and perseverance.

Happy will experience complications, but at which moment is unknown. Her mother, Grace, died from childbirth complications, but this is not Happy's fate unless Jadyn Wong or CBS surprisingly decides not to renew her contract for another season, if ordered. In addition, I do not think the story about the soldier's wife and her circulation problem and their infant is a coincidence.

The baby will likely be a preemie. The fawn was delivered prematurely and survived in episode 4.03. If this baby is born at the end of the season with a pregnancy reveal between now and Christmas, then the length of the season without a significant time jump makes this a likely scenario.

These are factors I believe are inevitable. However, these are very focused on Happy. Where does Toby individually fit in this scenario besides being a sperm donor and supportive husband? I go back to the conversation between Scotty and Toby in episode 3.24 Maroon 8. Scotty's wife was prepared to give birth very soon and he was very concerned that the injury he sustained in the crash landing would cause him to miss the birth or never see either of them again. Since there have been subtle clues about an impending struggle in Toby's personal life likely slated for the second half of the season, it might be possible that the writers play with an idea where Toby faces difficulty in reaching Happy for the birth of their child. This is also likely considering Collins is still at large and we don't know what role he plays in the story later this season. Yet, one could also argue that the comment Toby makes while he's dancing links to a future parallel with the "Shiny Happy People" moment of 2.13 White Out on a lighter note. Baby Quintis is going to create a lot of character growth and influence a lot of other arcs for the season! I am really excited about the possibilities!!!

STOP WITH THE QUIEEN DRAMA!

If you are reading this title and think I am about to bash Quieen as a ship, then let me ✋🏾 you right there and say hello because you must be new to my blog and these reviews. 😉😂😂😂😂 This is more of a mini rant about the missed opportunities in a Happy and Paige friendship for the series. I personally do not expect these two characters to have the same relationship that Happy has with Walter or that Paige has with Toby because their personalities are different and thus they will not naturally flock to one another as friends. (Yes, I am aware of the irony of this statement considering Paige is in a relationship with Walter.) The tension that exists between them in this episode is understandable given the circumstances. At first, it didn't make sense why Happy would want to hang with Waige and Ralph out of the blue when the press release for the episode dropped. The sneak peek revealing Paige and Walter's initial conversation before the mission suggested that Walter may have been behind this change given what we know about him as a character. He does weird things when he is concerned about something. Thus, he naturally defaults to experiments to test his hypotheses. But throughout the episode we see that Happy's behavioral change is a result an inner emotional turmoil just as Walter's defense of Happy's presence on his dates with Paige suggests the same. It's another unique Walter/Happy parallel showcasing their EQ struggles as the most robotic characters in the series. The situation on a whole also links so well with Happy’s characterization.

Yet, the navigation of Waige's relationship presents opportunities for Paige to come to Happy to seek more insight about Walter since this show has established the strong Happy/Walter friendship and how they are very similar people. Heck, Happy and Walter had the same walk when they entered the warhead hangar! 😂 The impending Quintis baby developments also create a chance for Happy to come to Paige for parenting advice like she did in 3.04 Little Boy Lost now that she wants to start a family. She is inspired by the bond between Ralph and Waige and follows them to understand the scope of that connection. Her focus on this is the reason why she is projecting her guilt over an accident leading to a catastrophic event and disappointment over being dismissed from the drive-in movie towards Paige and her EQ contributions to the team. That frustration extends to a lesser extent to Toby and Cabe. She is uncomfortable with the emotion, hence, she regresses. However, the function of drama between Happy and Paige is annoying to use as a bonding tool in high stress situations when there is so much potential in their friendship without it. As Toby states, Paige's work with Scorpion is a reason why he and Happy are married today. Paige managed to piece together a last-minute wedding ceremony for them. Happy gave Paige advice regarding Drew and Ralph from her own personal experience and even hilariously called out her jealousy towards Linda. So all I'm saying is WHERE IS THE LOVE?!! The drama is reflective of a common trope and societal fault that simply needs to dissolve. The women of Scorpion do amazing things for this team and it is about time we see more SIGNIFICANT heartfelt moments between them! My hope is we will eventually see a bond form from respective learning experiences because there is so much potential and new material that can blossom from a portrayal of this relationship on screen.

Drabbles...

The lawyer interviews... 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

So who is really Alderman? Sly or Patty? Patty is cracking me up because she is clearly running this ship! 😂😂😂😂😂😂

Ralph is so throwed and Paige doesn't like it... 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂💀💀 Geez guys, how did we get here already?! He was a little kid just the other day!

Walter is lucky Paige didn't hear his "I told you so!" He would have been in so much trouble! 😂😂😂

Paige and Happy are in full-on petty mode... 👀😱😱😱😳

How do you not have an explosion protocol even though the warhead is being decommissioned?! *facepalm*

Toby's moves to The Commodores are downright hilarious!!! 😂😂😂😂😂💀💀 I wonder if he plans on using those moves in the bedroom... #KinkyQuintis! At least Toby notices the danger before the others literally die from exhaust! Silver lining? 😂😂😂😂😂😂 He's such a dork!

Happy: Why do you want to be human anyway? Being human sucks! She's ruined all of us. Toby: Well... she is the reason we're together. That is a good thing, right?! (Happy remains silent). Aww Happy! My baby is all emotional and she is uncomfortable about it! 😢😢😢😢

Omgness! The way Walter closes the plug after Paige shoots down his definition of a fun date during catastrophe… 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂💀💀💀

H: The sign says, "No Swimming,” boss! 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

Walter (to Happy & Paige): You two make a great team. Me: I agree! Why use a fight to get them here, writers?! We've been known this!

Explode the warhead?! Lordt, here we go again! 😳😳😱😱😱😱😱

Did anyone notice Happy’s subtle question of concern over the safety of the lighting guy given the new plan?! HOLY CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!!! 🙌🏾 🙌🏾 🙌🏾

Okay Happy… don’t drop this plastic wrench! 😂😂😂😂😂

Paige and Happy make up and Walter is confused… this is the subtle comedy I like!!! 👍🏾😂😂😂😂

Cabe being treated as an intern is just too much! 😂😂😂😂😂😂 Cabe coming up with a method to locate the warhead based on the science the geniuses presented earlier… PRICELESS! He’s a great fit for this team as Toby suggests! Papa Cabe FTW!!! 🙌🏾😂😂😂😂😂

These geniuses are terribly direct at the worst times!!! 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

Sly saves the county money and funds science club in one fell swoop! And he’s gonna be Cabe’s lawyer?! Oh yeah! 🙌🏾 🙌🏾 🙌🏾 🙌🏾

H: I want a baby... soon. You were right. I want a family... I’ve always wanted a family and I want one with you because I love you. T: The woman who hates being human wants to make another human? H: Yeah, something like that. T: Shall we start now? OH MY QUINTIS HEART!!! 😍😍💚💚💚😍😍 ALL HAIL THE MIGHTY LOVE OAK!!! 😍💚💚🌳💚💚

Waige is too stinkin cute! I am feeling 2.15 end scene flashbacks! Are you?!! 💙💙🐟🍹💙💙 Also cue the “bored” parallels between Waige in this episode and Quintis in episode 3.15. Paige and Toby, respectively, remind their robot significant other that they will never get tired of their antics/personality! GIVE ME ALL THE WAIGE AND QUINTIS PARALLELS!!! 🙌🏾 🙌🏾 🙌🏾😍😍😍😍😍😍💚💚💙💙

#ermanda's inner sanctum #cbs scorpion #s04e04 #nuke kids on the block #scorpion cbs #waige #quintis #baby quintis #quieen #episode review #team scorpion #livingwithashipname

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theseventhhex · 5 years

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Dead to a Dying World Interview

Dead to a Dying World

Photo by Kathleen Kennedy

Dead to a Dying World’s ‘Elegy’ is a foretelling of a post-human world which explores themes of loss, grief, and the dawn of a new ecology through the eyes of a lone wanderer. The last human grieves the end of humanity, reflecting on the temporal insignificance of man and the sixth extinction caused by the Anthropocene – the end of our kind brought about by our own hubris, greed, and desire for power over one another. ‘Elegy’ marks the third chapter in the trilogy, which explores our relationship to our world by reflecting on our past, present, and impending future. Produced by Billy Anderson, ‘Elegy’ stands as one of the most riveting productions from the acclaimed producer in recent times. The album sees the band’s seven full-time members welcoming contributions from a small cast of guest musicians, including Thor Harris (ex-Swans, Thor & Friends), Jarboe (ex-Swans), Dylan Desmond (Bell Witch), and Emil Rapstine (The Angelus), Pablo C. Urusson (Sangre de Muerdago), and Tim Duffield (ex-Sans Soleil). The new contingent of guests helps elevate the narrative of ‘Elegy’ to a new plateau… We talk to the band about experiencing loss, taking risks and escaping the pandemonium in life…

TSH: Talk us through the band’s recording experience as you readied ‘Elegy’…

James: It was different from every other album we’ve done in that at no point were we all in the same room together. Luckily, the endeavour of writing with people all over the country prepared us well for such a situation. We have finally learned to give ourselves enough time in the studio for embellishments and ideas. Billy always keeps us on track and has wonderful input.

TSH: What sort of narratives and themes were you feeling compelled to express with this album?

James: The overarching theme is certainly grief. I, personally, am feeling this more and more each day. It seems clear that we aren’t, as a species, going to mobilise in a fashion large enough to stop the coming irreversible changes. How do you plan for a future that science says is so uncertain? I don’t know but here we are. A lot of that sentiment went into the album.

Sean: I feel like a lot of these themes manifested on a much more personal level with ‘Elegy’ as well. Grief not just for a dying world, but for our own humanity.

TSH: It’s been noted some of you experienced great loss during the lead-up to this release – in what ways did this impact the writing process?

Mike: Everything must die. Even the ideas of who we are and what we think we know about life. It's a process though, and in my opinion real loss is one of the most challenging things anyone can experience. It's extremely difficult to fully express how far reaching a loss can impact one's life even to our closest friends and family. I think music allows us to get close to expressing the emotional turmoil, or at the very least it's a cathartic way to step back and work through it all.

TSH: When you referenced the ancient past for this record, what ideas were you intrigued by?

James: I’ve always been intrigued by the ancient world. When people worshipped the things they needed to stay alive: worshipping the land, the rain or the sun. We’ve lost that largely as a species. It’s something we need to return to, desperately.

Sean: These are truths that indigenous cultures have long known, before settlers arrived and homogenised the world. Unfortunately we are still living in that world borne from such genocide and oppression. Returning to these ancient ideas must be inherently tied to dismantling white supremacy and settler colonialism.

TSH: Talk us through your intentions in opening with the lighter tones of ‘Syzygy’ and then delivering the mighty ‘The Seer's Embrace’…

Sean: We sought to be much more deliberate with our musical intentions within ‘Elegy’ than any of our previous efforts. The musical juxtaposition between both ‘Syzygy’ and ‘The Seer’s Embrace’ is undeniable, but more so than that we wanted to challenge any expectations or presumptions of what was to come. ‘Syzygy’ has a foreboding emotional weight to it that can feel inescapable. It sets the tone for what we wanted to explore through ‘Elegy’ as a whole, as well as being upfront about our musical intent. It can be easy to see our shorter, lighter pieces as breath from what we typically do, but we seek to challenge that assumption altogether.

TSH: What were the key factors in getting ‘Empty Hands, Hollow Hymns’ to sound so concise and refined?

James: I have to hand it to Mike. He really pushed for the call and response vocal part while some of us didn’t quite get. It worked out beautifully. As to the rest of the piece we spent much more time making sure the parts worked cohesively, much closer to Sean’s vision on our first record than ‘Litany’.

TSH: Was it rewarding to use this album to force deeper questions of yourselves?

Mike: Indeed. Asking deeper questions of myself is always part of the writing process. If I can help the listener achieve the same sort of thing then I feel like I’ve done what I set out to do.

James: It’s definitely made me think about how I live day to day into perspective about how much more I could personally do to help stop the impending cataclysms.

TSH: Moreover, how vital is it for the band to continuously take risks and push boundaries?

Mike: I feel that it's essential to take risks and push boundaries. That's the only reason I care to make music in the first place and the only way I know I'm growing as a person and an artist.

James: I cannot stand just walking the same well-worn territory again and again. Always push the envelope. Sometimes you win. Sometimes it’s a mess. Nobody dies. It’s fun.

Sean: Through any creative process there will always be expectations or limitations, and we have always outwardly challenged them in any way we can. However, the most challenging boundaries to push will always be the ones we’ve placed on ourselves.

TSH: Was there a specific type of balance and natural harmony that you feel defines your band’s ethos?

Mike: If anything I would say it’s our combined styles, interests, and influences that create our ethos. Balancing all of those unique traits results in something original or unexpected and authentic.

TSH: How pleasant a factor is it to know that this band inspires and keeps you connected with other amazing musicians?

Mike: I am very aware of how privileged I am to make music with such amazing people. The fact that we have met and made music with so many other inspiring musicians has been a real honour and something I never take for granted.

James: Now that we are so spread out its good just to spend time together and it’s an honour to meet and play with so many talented and pleasant musicians along the way.

Sean: It is always such an honour to be surrounded by such passion. We’ve met and worked with so many fantastic people and tremendously talented musicians over the past decade. It truly is such a testament to the strength of community through music.

TSH: Does possibly soundtracking in the future still intrigue you?

Mike: That’s a very exciting idea and one that I think we would strongly embrace given the right opportunity.

James: James Cameron we’re looking at you.

TSH: What does the band bond over and connect over most whilst on tour?

Mike: I would have to say our varied influences, interests, and lives. Everyone brings a unique perspective to the table and we all very much appreciate and respect those elements from each other.

James: We try to build in some field trips along the way. It helps to spend some time with each other that isn’t just hustling to spend four extra hours at the venue staring at our phones.

TSH: What were the highlights with your time spent in Grand Canyon National Park recently?

James: I drove the van overnight from Albuquerque direct to the South Rim, so I was pretty delirious. Just as we arrived a snow storm came blazing through. The abyss was swirling, filled with fog, and freezing rain was spilling down from the sky. It was magic.

TSH: Given all the chaos and pandemonium in the world, which attributes in life would you say bring you most bliss and clarity?

Mike: Just spending time with my family and friends and helping out wherever possible. We all come up together, ya know.

James: The natural world always tamps down the noise and harsh realities of the modern world. Falling water and towering trees offer an iota of relief.

TSH: Finally, what sort of challenges and exploration do you relish as you look ahead as a band?

Mike: With the trilogy closed out we are totally unbound by a working concept and the idea of labels or genres. I can't wait to push our personal limits and see where things end up.

James: Probably something self-indulgent either that or syrupy pop.

Dead to a Dying World - “Empty Hands, Hollow Hymns”

Elegy

#Interview #dead to a dying world #DTADW #Elegy

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yourbrotherzulu · 5 years

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A Woman and a Miracle

so... i just thought, I’ll give you a little context here. All y'all funky people don't even know where I am. Besides in a hammock in Peru. With a monkey.

But there is more than this monkey here. There is also the second monkey. I think they are a couple but have some beef at the moment.

There is a shaman. But he doesn’t like the word shaman.

There is a bunch of russians. They don't really smile so much. Like never.

And there is a woman. Well... THE woman. (not the monkey woman, although tecnically we’re all monkeys)

And there is of course:

A MIRACLE

(tadaaa, drums please!)

(thank you, thank you. yeah. alright.)

PART I

You see... miracles are for the truthseeker what data is for the researcher. It is evidence. Spiritual evidence (not the only one of course). Without miracles, faith is just a believe. But with miracles... faith becomes knowing. And life becomes a magic carpet ride. A magic magic carpet ride. Fireworks to the left, music to the right, signs all the way through.

And one thing becomes very clear.

That miracles actually aren't miracles. They are lawful events.

They are just the natural effects of causes set in ones inner realm. Every little thing happens according to laws. Within, without, everywhere, all the time.

If ones perspective towards reality shifts, the whole universe responses. If your perspective shifts to one that is closer to the truth, things immediately run more smoothly. If it shifts a little more, things run in flow state, meaningful coincidences happen, synchronicities, fireworks, music and shit like that. If one perspective shifts right to the center, you hit the jackpot and get a miracle that changes your life with a 180 in an instant. This is the magic of reality. If you have experienced this for a certain number of time, believing stops, knowing starts, knowing that one has a intimate relationship with the universe.

Knowing this, that the cosmos is aware, that the cosmos responds, that the cosmos cares enables one to accept its love. Knowing that you are deeply loved and having an ongoing experience of that

is the real miracle.

Living with this knowledge naturally, lawfully makes one a person touched by grace. The love you receive will overflow. The light that shines on you will reflect to anyone you come in contact with. That kind of person.

A person that perceives abundance instead of scarcity, harmony where once was chaos, beauty where once was disgust, peace where once was turmoil. It changes this persons frequency and makes them saintly, free of greed, ill-will, animosity. This person surely will act beneficial for himself and for others and thus will be someone who bears good fruits, as JC said it.

Miracles, they make one eager to learn more about the spiritual laws, and become more disciplined in their application. One wishes to uncover more and more of this treausure one has stumbled upon inside so that one day one fully realizes ones own Buddha-Nature.There is a little line, if that line is crossed one finds oneself fully in the gravitational field of the selfless Self, the One in the Many, the Soul of Souls.

Because of that, one begins to understand that there is a difference between the morality of religions and societies and the morality of the cosmos that encompasses the whole law of being-ness. One begins to understand that if one does good and contribute to the harmony, peace and happiness of our earthling-family, that includes our brothers and sisters of the animal- and plant-kingdoms as well, one gets rewarded. In the inner kingdom one experiences good vibes, good thoughts, good energy and in the outer realm of the kingdom one is blessed with good relations, harmonious circumstances and material wealth. One begins to understand the true meaning of the Kingdom, which is in fact a fractal. Understanding leads to love. Love leads to care.

And the Kingdom begins to care for one.

As a mother cares for her child.

As a master cares for his student.

As a lover cares for his beloved.

As a friend cares for his friend.

The Kingdom IS the mother, master, lover, friend for such a person.

And this is the beginning of heaven.

Just the beginning. But it changes everything.

That is the teaching. And there is a way. And that way, the beautiful Dhamma is a great jewel in each and every persons life who has come across it.

People will notice. Something is different with you. Wherever you go people will feel the natural mystic in the air. They feel there is no evil in you.

There is a Path. Attaining the Path is the first goal. And practicing it is of utmost importance.

"Practice! Practice a lot, Ananda" said the Buddha to His disciple "and you will find a master hard to find."

“Doing Good. Avoiding doing bad. Purifing oneself! This is the whole of the Dhamma” the Buddha said.

“Love! Love your neighbor as yourself and love your God with all your Heart and Strength and Might! This is the Law and the Prophets” the Christ said.

Practice! Love! Practice Loving! Love Practicing!

Until you cross the thin line and enter the stream.

Then all will be good.

Sotapana.

The Path leads to the line, merges into the stream that carries one to the ultimate.

Practice!

Morality. Mastery over the mind. Wisdom. These are the three disciplines.

...

just a sec

...

shit ran away with me a little

...

lets take a little break

...

la la la

...

intense shit, right?

hmm where were we?

lets start at the beginning...

PART II

ah ja, there were monkeys, shamans, russians (which are actually not important),there was a woman and a miracle.

And all that in the middle of the Peruvian jungle. Where else would one expect monkeys and shamans?

Ages ago, at least one lifetime, I was studying medicine back in Germany. I was quite good and managed it with surprising ease. But I was also a rebel. Ask my mother, she can tell you I already annoyed everyone in kindergarten. I was always critizising what I was doing and testing if the trench we all sit on is really suitable for the future. Many people liked it. Many didn’t. I never cared. I believed in my wings.

So I started researching other ways of healing. I believed in science. I believed in God already. I didn’t believe in religion. And I haven’t had found out yet, that science is a religion in itself. I researched, and smoked a lot of weed, I read testimonials of people who got cured of cancer in the jungles of South America, got healed by this or that ancient herb in God knows what mountain village or African bushtown. I knew people myself, who meditated their diseases away. I heard incredible stories and decided to take them seriously.

And one day I had to come and see for myself.

Now, many years later I am here. In Peru. I quit med-school long ago. I don’t need a professor anymore to teach me the reality of my body and mind. I don’t need a doctor who knows all the theories about health but looks like a bag of old potatoes. I close my eyes and meditate to see the reality of my mind and body. I open my eyes and tap into the present moment to see the reality of the world. I feel my body, use my body, stretch my body, exercise my body, fill my body with good shit, try to avoid bad shit. Try to find balance, stability, strength and ease in posture. I don’t need to study health. I need to practice it. From moment to moment

In Peru, in the remote center of Don Pepe, somewhere in the moskito-infested jungle, taking care not to kick a chicken with every step I take, I am witnessing some amazing stuff.

There is this old abuela. Yesterday I hold her sweating arm, while Pepe was treating her foot. You see, the foot is dead. I mean rotten-dead. Cut-it-off dead. Seeing-the-bones dead. The doctors wanted to amputate. Any sane person would advise this. But not Don Pepe. He was treating it. And the tissues were growing back. Every day. Little by little. The black stinking flesh is regaining color. Where there is no flesh, it is growing back. Fat. Nerve. Muscle. And this is just normal business here.

At night, when we drink Ayahuasca, I see jacked giants breaking out in tears, sobbing for their mother, facing the emotional traumas they have buried deep down in their souls and forgotten about it. At daylight I see them again. Changed. More open. Less dark. Lighter.

And although medical miracles... Not the miracle I want to share tonight.

The miracle has to do with the woman.

But I gotta go back in the days for that. Way back.

When I was studying medicine, I also fell in love with... drugs. Hamburgs techno-scene was hot, the music was fresh, the people cool. Still to this day I believe Hamburg has the dopest people of all cities on Earth. I was taken by it. The MDMA allowed me to open to others, connect in a way I never knew before. I felt as if I was part of something bigger, something beautiful. I felt beautiful myself. I was less tense. More smooth. People genuinely liked me all of a sudden. Chicks liked me. And I liked them. I loved them. I loved the music. I loved the dancing, the sweat, the sexyness. I loved the vibrations. I loved the rush. Not long until I was completely addicted to it.

I needed money. For entries. For drinks. For drugs. For more drinks.

I lied to my mother. I requested money for this or that new medical book, plastic sceleton, or whatever shit I came up with. When she stopped sending me money, because it was just too much, I had a drink with a friend of mine and the next day we bought a few hundred pills and pushed them in the clubs ourselves.

He stopped soon. He said, it destroyed the parties for him. I didn’t stop. I just started. For me it didn’t destroy the parties. It just changed the game to another level. At the beginning it was cool. It was just a side hustle, for a few minutes when I went from the dancefloor to take a piss and someone asked me for something in the bathroom. I was amazed that instead of spending a hundred bucks per night I went home with an additional hundred.

Then two hundred.

Then five hundred.

Then I realized that I can sell pills in Berlin for double the price, triple even, quadruple sometimes. In Hamburg we were family, we knew each other, we couldn’t rip each other off. But in Berlin, my hometown, nobody gave a shit.

Each friday morning, when I was finished raving in Hamburgs `”Baalsaal” I took a ride to Berlin, where I would keep on partying the weekend, to be back in university on monday morning.

In Berlin I made a thousand. Per night.

I always loved the Berghain. It was just another thing. More mature. More naked. Rough and sexy.

They had their own dealers. Not that they worked for the club, but they had their claims there. But soon I realized, they came quite late, because late is when the real party starts. But the tourists didn’t know that. And the tourists were the ones who needed shit. My shit. And I could ask any price I wanted. Because they had no fuckin’ clue. And there was nobody else anyway.

It was fuckin’ gold-rush

Before the first of the home-dealers arrived I already made 2 grand.

For what? For having a great time!

It took a few weeks and I didn’t give a shit about the dealers anymore. They knew me, they liked me, I liked them. I had my regular customers who would party every weekend and would get a line or pill for free every now and then.

Everyone knew me. Everyone knew my shit was awesome. Everyone was my friend. I felt like the coolest cat in the coolest club of the world.

I was shining. I was the sugarman. I was King-fuckin’-Kong!

And I literally had unlimited money.

And then I saw her. Sitting on a black, worn-out leather couch, between two good looking dudes.

Her face was a masterpiece. Her hair looked liked fuckin’ silk. You know, like in the commercials. Like L’oreal or something like that.

She had the vibe. Fresh. Light. And dirty at the same time, ‘cause there are only dirty people in this club.

Before I even said “Hi”, I was in love. Struck by lightning

I said I liked her face. It was a stupid line. But she liked it and smiled.

“I am Josi!” she said. And I was lost. She had me. She just needed to take it.

We talked and danced and heeell yeah

she had a groove.

A girl with a groove like that, a girl who knows how to bounce the shit out of the dancefloor, that is rare, like purple moons. They exist. I saw them. But only a few times.

Her life's goal, she said, "is just being in the Here and Now"

My God, I would have killed anyone for this woman.

I had already sold all my stuff that night and had now only eyes for her. I liked to pay for her drinks and get massive bundles of money out of my pocket. She was pushing dope herself and when she heard how much I already made that night she just couldn't believe it. Like she really didn’t believed it. Until I showed her all my money. I tried to impress her by telling her I sell dope since I was 14, which was true, but I stopped at 18 and started doing armed robberies instead.

She wasn’t focused, so I took the rest of her dope and pushed it within the next 30 minutes.

We drank so much. We snorted even more. I put two lines on the screen of my phone and she sniffed them both away with a single stroke. We laughed. The smiles in our faces wouldn't stop.

But we didn't go home with each other.

The whole week I was thinking about her. Monday, while looking into the microscope. Tuesday, while cutting of some fat of some old dead dude. Wednesday while reading stuff in the library. On Thursday Night I started my business, back in Hamburgs “Baalsaal”. On Friday Night I continued in Berghain. She wasn’t there. I should have slept afterwards. But I didn’t. Saturday Night, still without sleep, I walked like a zombie to Berghain. I had to see her.

As usual, I had shitloads of pills and powders in my bag. I always hid my stash in the bushes somewhere in walking distance to the club and would take only smaller amounts at once with me into the club, hidden in a secret pocket of my fluffy red jacket. But today wasn’t always. Today was pay-day for my sins.

I forgot to hide my shit.

When they checked my bag at the entrance, and they always check everyone, they pulled out hundreds of pills and God knows how many bags with speed.

As the police arrived, all I was thinking was

"fiNaLly...sLEep"

Not counting the countless nights I spend in cells of different police stations in Berlin, it was about to enter my second real jail-time.

My mind couldn’t process what was going on. I really couldn’t comprehend at all what was happening. Just a minute ago, I was havin’ fun, dancin’, bouncin’, makin’ cash and now... what? I mean... whaaaaat?

It was just too many drugs. Too many months, too many weekends, too many nights. At the end I took more than ten pills per night, not knowing how many lines of speed and other stuff. The stop was too abrupt. It was as if my life stopped from 200 to zero in a second and my mind just crashed through the front window and I was flying through a void without anything to tell me where the fuck is up and where is down.

The second night in prison, I took the pants of the pyjama, that they gave me, tied one nice knot around the bars and another one around my neck. When I jumped, I realized that the knot wasn't nice after all. I was sitting on my butt, hurting, thinking "fUck iT" and went to bed.

The next day I was brought to my permanent cell, and the first thing I did, as the warden stepped outside and closed the heavy door behind him, was making a really nice knot, but this time properly.

I hung a few moments from the bars, then my bodies adrenaline was having a word with me and instinctively my feet were reaching for the edge of the bed. After 7 very long seconds, they managed to get hold of it, slide it a little closer and finally stand on it.

“gODdaMn” I thought with a messy mind... “I hAve a pRoBlemmm”

On the same day, I went to the doctor, told him that I am not stable and definitely gonna kill myself in here. I told him the whole story, he seemed to be really cool. He put a red dot on my cell’s door so that the wardens would check every hour whether I was still alive and fresh or already dead and stinky.

The next day I was brought to a double cell where I would live together with an arab dude who got catched selling heroin in the subway for a wage of 50 bucks a day. He was alright. Jerking off every night like there is no tomorrow... on the top floor of our bunkbed. But otherwise he was decent..

There I was. Looking out of the window. Seeing nothin’ but walls and barbwire and grey clouds.

It was winter.

And the months passed by.

I was praying, begging, crying. I felt abandoned by God, whom I met in my first jail-time as an 18 year old. I had no hope. My lawyer told me, for sure it's gonna be a few years, especially concerning my criminal record. I couldn’t grasp my situation. Just a moment ago, I was a bright young man, studying medicine, on his way to become a childrens doctor or a surgeon or whatever, the pride of his mother... and now... in prison... because I sold drugs on dirty toilets to dirty people of whom I was the dirtiest of them all.

My mom was visiting me once a week. She developed an ulcer in her stomach due to the intense stress and worry her imprisoned child caused her. That ulcer made her breath stink like shit and when I was brought back to my cell I would cry for hours while realizing what I have done to her. Silently, without sobbing. I wasn’t alone in the cell after all.

And I knew what was I about to do to her next would kill her. But I was so done. My brain was properly fucked by tons of drugs. My life was properly fucked anyway. And God left me. I was in Satan's custody now.

There was no hope.

I waited for my cell's companion to go to a certain appointment. I planned everything carefully. I pushed everything out of reach this time. No bed, no chair, nothing. I whispered my last words: "Sorry. For everything."

And then...

I fell asleep. Right where I was standing.

And then someone gave me a heavy slap right in my face.

I must have fallen on the floor. Two big muscular men with the white dress of psychiatry-nurses where standing over me. One white man and one black man. Both of them had tattoos all over their visible skin and army-like haircuts.

"Yo!" the white man was barking at me.

"Get yourself together, fool! Get your fucking shit together. You can do this! You have the strength. Just get your fucking shit together. You’re here for a reason. Stop whining and start learning, fool!"

And I was like “whaaaat?”

Then they both took me at the collar and threw me upwards.

And I was thrown through the ceiling of my cell, even through the ceilings of the cells on top of that and through the roof and I was flying further and further up until I came to a hold around 200m above the prison, overlooking the whole district, the buildings, the cars and the tiny people that would move like ants all around. The air was crisp and birds were flying around me.

And then gravity kicked in.

"Oh shit!"

I was falling back down with an incredible speed, smashed back in my body, and woke up.

I was feeling fresh, energized and alive. There was hope after all.

For the first time in months there was a certain calmness in my mind.

I spent my days puzzling or writing love letters for all the arab inmates in my block, so that they could send them to their wifes outside, since every letter had to be in German, so that the wardens could read it before it would be sent. In return I received little jars of plum-jam or chocolates. Eating something sweet can be incredible nice in such a pale environment.

I returned to my regimen of workouts in the cell. Push-Ups and Sit-Ups. I stretched and bend.

And as my mind became clearer and clearer and more and more letters from my friends arrived I started to realized what I did on the spiritual level. You see, and I am kidding you not, I always took Jesus first miracle, when he turned water into wine into some kind of legitimation for taking drugs. But I just completely lost all measure. My friend, who stopped dealing after a few parties was wiser than me. I didn’t see clearly. I let my mind to be corrupted by greed, clouded by money. I reversed-enginereed the situation I was in and recognized, that for the last months I was only thinking about money, money, money. All day long I was calculating the numbers. How much I would spend on new supplies. How much I would earn in this club or that club and how long it would take to be really fuckin’ rich.

I read the many letters of my friends outside who were thinking of me and wishing me good luck. Before my arrest I degraded them all to mere customers. I recalled that when I met any of them I only cared about whether they need somethin for the next weekend. That was all. I didn’t hang out with them anymore if they didn’t buy stuff. I was a shell. God didn't abandon me. I abandoned him. And I didn’t even notice.

I smiled. Now I knew why I was here. Not because God stopped loving me. But because He was loving me so much, that he needed to correct me with some tough love. Because He cared, I was here. So that I can change. And become righteous once again.

A few weeks passed by and they revisited their decision whether to leave me in custody until the trial or not as it is the formal procedure in the land.

I was brought to a little court-room inside the prison.

Above the door of the room, where I would meet the judge was a triangle with an eye inside of it. And I knew God would be in there too.

The judge opened the procedure. He read my criminal records. All my arrests for fist-fights, for breaking in to cars or other stupid shit. But strangely my conviction for armed robbery was not in the list, although this was by far the heaviest crime of them all.

They had the results from the laboratory, he said. He didn’t smile.

Apparently I was selling pills the weekend I got arrested that were so heavily stretched that there was almost no real MDMA or other classified substance in any of them. The same was the case for the powders. I remembered, that on that weekend quite a few people came back to me and complained about the quality of the dope, or even wanted their money back.

You see, God works in mysterious ways. Especially when it comes to tweaking numbers. He seems to have a thing for that.

They had to let me go. The amount of substance in the drug was just too little.

Hope.

I couldn't believe it. They found at least two hundred pills and another hundred grams of speed and now they say it all was just smarties and baking powder.

What a miracle!

And still, not the miracle I want to talk about.

My mom picked me up from the prison gate. She was crying. Relieved. And disappointed of course. Realizing that she didn't know the young man in front of her who used to made her proud, who was to become a doctor, her little boy.

She made me clean up the garden. It was still freezing cold. The winter was long.

All I could think about was Josi. The angel I just met before I went to prison.

I called her. Her voice was cold. She didn't want to meet me.

And my heart fell together in itself like a ballon pierced by needle.

...

Although they gave me a lifelong ban in Berghain I managed to slip in a few times. Dancing in Panorama Bar I saw her standing with a friend on the little balcony from which one could see the whole dancefloor. She pointed towards me and I clearly heard her saying to her friend: "That's him! That’s the guy I told you about!" You see the F1-Soundsystem in that joint is quite remarkable and can erase those frequencies out of the music that are used when humans are talking with each other. This allows you to actually have conversations although the speakers are pumping sound like anything.

I knew that she knew that I was there. But when I approached her she pretended to be surprised to see me and I noticed how uncomfortable she was just talking to me.

I was desperate. So in love. And she didn't give a shit. It seemed. Some friends of mine told me she was always asking about me. I was confused. So confused. Maybe she was too... But I felt I am somehow still important to her.

Although I was not in jail anymore, I was still imprisoned.

Although I had received a little bit clarity of mind in the prison, it was all gone by now. The drugs took their toll. I had to pay my debts now. My mind was not functioning. My emotions were completely in chaos. My thoughts were dull and messy. I had problems to process language. My memory had no grip at all. All my attempts to do anything worthwhile failed. My relationships were bad. Most of my friends somehow abandoned me. I hated myself. I was a broken human being. Completely kaputt. I was staring right at it. And I just couldn't escape.

I started an apprenticeship in a carpentry workshop but I just couldn't make it work. Whatever I did, it was full of flaws, uncomplete, dirty and way too often I even damaged the work of others by accident or just mere mindlessness. I was slow, forgot too many things and noticeably wasn't mentally present. While my thinking had no power at all, the power of my emotions was way too much to handle and brought me down to my knees every day. I wouldnt pray. I would beg for mercy, whining and wailing. Especially in construction, where there is sharpness required and a lot of testosterone in the air, this emotional turmoil just completely fucked me. Every half an hour I went to the toilet to have a panic attack, to cry, to look in the mirror and saw some kind of clown I didn’t recognize. My co-workers started to talk behind my back. At first. Later they talked shit about me while I was standing right in the damn room.

I couldn't talk to friends, although there were a few who sticked with me, who were deeply worried. But I couldn’t accept their love. I couldn’t be loved.

I begged God for my death. Even for my mother to die, so that I could kill myself without hurting her.

Every free moment I was thinking about suicide. Or about Josi.

It was a Dark Night of the Soul. And a very long one.

I lived in a community then with a few people. My presence always had and still has a big impact on the atmosphere in a room. In those days for the bad. I was grumpy, frustrated with myself, alone, hopeless. The others were increasingly irritated by my presence, my moodyness, my tensions and I noticed that painfully every moment on every single day. And thus I stepped into darkness even more.

I wrote a letter. Took a kitchen knife with me. Went to the graveyard right around the corner, sat next to a tombstone, took a deep breath and was about to start the cut.

I closed my eyes.

All of a sudden I saw images. Vivid. Deep. Colorful. High Resolution. As if I would be right in them. There was an ocean, sparkling water, warm sunshine. An amazing coast. There were friends and me on a sailing boat. We were laughing. I saw myself in a nice room, playing guitar, singing. I saw myself in front of a canvass, painting, wearing torn clothes with red and green sprinkles on them. And a hat. I saw myself standing on top of a mountain. Watching the world in 360 degrees. I saw myself holding a child in my arms.

I opened my eyes.

I dropped the knife and felt hope once again that there might be a future for me, a life, in bright colors with red and green sprinkles. One day.

But for now everything was still grey.

A friend told me about a silent ten day meditation retreat. It was called “Vipassana”, she said. I had never heard about it.

And although I was always interested in meditation and yoga, I didn’t applied for the sake of meditating. All I wanted to everyone around me to shut the up for ten days. For me shutting up for ten days. For being alone. For not disturbing anyone with my mere existence.

Without that course I would be dead by now, that much I know. And now, many years later, I would go through all of it once more, just to be brought to this technique.

From the first day on afterwards, my cognition started to function again. Little by little but tangible. My emotions were still chaotic and I panicked a lot, almost every day. But whenever I remembered to apply what I have learned from Vipassana, my emotions immediately became less abstract, less overwhelming.

Emotions stripped away from there mental projections and reduced to physical sensations were something I could handle. My panick stopped being a violent rush of self-doubt, negative memories, bad projections of the future and started to be an increased heartbeat, a weird feeling in the stomach, coldness in my limbs. That was still unpleasant, but nothing that would whoop my ass.

What once were huge, dangerous monsters in my bedroom became just the shadows of a little dwarfs standing on my sideboard as soon as i switched on the light of awareness that Vipassana taught me.

I came back to life. I stretched and breathed. I meditated. I bought a guitar.

I wasn't able to write again, but I hoped... maybe one day I will have the strentgh, joy and confidence to speak once more. Maybe one day I my spirit would be strong again, so that I would dare to inspire. Maybe one day I would have a voice again.

The colors came back. One after the other.

But Josi didn't. She avoided me. Sometimes we met by coincidence. There was no affection from her at all. And I turned into a little puppy, needy for her affirmation, her confirmation that I would exist.

Back then I knew nothing about masculine or feminine energies. I didn’t know what a man was, or a woman, and that a true man or woman has always both energies in state of balance. I only knew I was in love with an angel that would rather eat glass alone then have a dinner with me.

But I kept on thinking and dreaming about her.

...

Fast forward a few years.

...

PART III

The Golden Gate Bridge was a fucking majestically thing. The bay sparkled blue and the sky was as blue as a sky can be. I loved San Francisco, especially when I could see it from my friends balcony in Oakland.

Visiting California was always on top of my bucket list.

I was feeling great that morning. I had a funny dream the night before and dreamt about Josi, what would happen every few months. After I woke up, still half asleep on the couch, I opened her Facebook page and saw that she had an Instagram account which I checked out for the first time. I saw hundreds and hundreds of professional model-photos. She made it. I was happy. At first.

It took just a few moments and I felt like a total loser. The images in my mind of her being with beautiful actors, models, fashion-creators or whatever society-shit there is, overwhelmed me. I felt small. I didn’t accomplish anything. I was just traveling the world, doing nothing worthwhile besides finding myself. While she must be quite wealthy by now, or having a rich man by her side, I had nothing to offer. The only thing I had was God, but at least the relationship between Him and I was improving for a while now.

Something inside of me wouldn’t have it. Something inside me wouldn’t crawl back under the blanket and feel sorry for myself. If she can pursue her dreams, than I could do the same thing.

I made myself a nice coffee, lit up a cigarette, booted my laptop and did something I haven’t done for years.

I wrote.

Nothing long. Nothing good even. But at least something.

I found my mind back years ago. My Heart some months ago while in India.

But my passion I found back that very morning.

I felt grateful. I enjoyed my life. Very much. But not to be able to write was always tormenting me in the back of my mind.

I stepped outside into a beautiful sunny day and decided to contact Josi after so many years. A textmessage wouldn’t be good. It needed to be something more personal. So I made a video for her and expressed my gratefulness for the Inspiration I received from seeing her following her dream. I believe to this day, that this is the best way to help others. By living oneself to fullest. Living life like it’s golden. I sent the video. Stepped into my car. And drove north where I would sit my second Vipassana-course, 5 years after my first one.

And again it completely changed my life.

That course, I realized already on the third day, would be one of the most important events in my life. I had a certain experience that is called "Bhangha". A complete dissolution of a solidified area next to my spine. I had a pain there that tormented me for two years. It couldn’t got cured by doctors, chiropractors or yoga-asanas. Vipassana is a pali-word, the language spoken by the Buddha and means as much as seeing things as they are. And by exactly doing this, observing the painful sensations, aware and equanimously... it just melted. It was as if I threw a tablet into a glas of water and what was a solid peace at first just bubbled away. That happened to other solidified spots too. I felt opened energy lines, the nadis, vibrating throughout my body. Sometimes it was as if it was raining the other way round, that thousand of tiny drops would leave my back and ascend to the sky. Bhangha!

Bhangha. One the most important and at the same time most dangerous experiences for a meditator. A milestone. That is why it is called little stream-entry. It shows one the true power of the technique, and thus one realizes what’s gonna happen if one continues with it. It shatters one’s view of the reality of ones own mind-body phenomenon. Naga-Rupa. And it is probably the most pleasant experience ever. Even if it just occurs partially, as it did to me. This amazing pleasantness itself and the simultaneously happening dissolution of unpleasant pains... that is why it is not only one of the most important experiences but also one of the most dangerous. They warn you! You can meditate wrong! You can create new impurities and tensions if you develop cravings for the sensations of it or for the progress that it seems to be! But somehow, during that retreat I didn’t hear that. I would pay a price for that. Much later.

In that retreat, I had a few openings of the third eye as well. I saw the structures and the fractals of the cosmos, the blueprint of creation, of myself, of God. I received the second represantion of the meaning of the Kingdom. But besides that it was just spectacular. I was thinking about fire and BOUM was sitting right in front of a camp-fire, feeling the warmth, hearing the crackles, seeing the vivid red and orange of the flames. I was thinking about water and BOUM was standing naked right in a waterfall, feeling the fresh cold, hearing the splashes, seeing the vivid blue and turquoise of the water. I saw a whole bunch of other stuff too, archetypes, galaxies, battles in outer space, even Darth Vader coming out of a solidified sensation with a laser-sword. It was a trip. But although definitely induced by my brains own DMT (the way things look are just too unique) it was much more controlable, integratable and memorizable then smoking the shit.

When the course was over there was not a trace of doubt left, that I hit the jackpot with this technique. I studied in the years before many spiritual ways, healing techniques, philosophies and will always practice the eight limbs of Yoga. But this technique, taught and applied by the Buddha himself, was the only one I have encountered, that would lead to full Enlightenment. As it did for himself and for so many others after him.

I was heavily meditated. Calm, clear and confident.

When I activated my phone there was no reply to the message I sent to Josi though.

But I knew in that moment, probably for the first time in my life, that regardless if I see her ever again, I will be happy. This knowing was on a very deep level and increased my peace even more. I knew it didn’t matter at all what happened. What I did with either way, was what mattered.

You see. A miracle is not just the effect. The cause is what really counts. And the cause is always a change in one’s perspective. That is the true miracle. Whatever happens in the outside then, is merely a confirmation that one’s view has been corrected. And that the cosmos is very well aware. This awareness of the cosmos, it's responsiveness and care for the issues of it's inhabitants... this is what I call God.

When I took my phone the next time, there was a little red dot with the number one inside in the corner of the app. I received a message. It was Josi.

The next day came another one. We texted back and forth. I didn’t feel like a puppy anymore. But I felt like it's christmas everyday, with every message I received. When she switched to voice messages, and I could listen to her voice once again, my face consisted only of a big fat smile all day long.

We didn’t manage to have a call though. There was the time-difference between California and Berlin and since I was staying in a house of a ganjafarmer far out in the californian nowhere I had only a very shitty connection. If at all.

Then... suddenly... the last message ended with...

"I just can't live anymore"

And then nothing more. Internet was gone again. I was freaking out. Whatthefuck? Whatthefuck? Whatthefuckisgoingon?

I drove to the next city. Called her.

She told me that she was very sick. That the many years of drugs took their toll. That she continued long after I was out and took some heavy shit. Her mind was broken. She only had fake friends, that stole all her money. She was alone. Therapies didn’t help. She didn’t had hope.

...

"Then join me to Peru!" I said.

It took her a few days, but then

..she agreed.

I couldn't believe it. I would have traveled around the globe to see her once again. Just one more time. And now she would. Not to see me maybe, but to find healing, but nonetheless we would finally meet.

I find it always astonishing. In the moment were you stop craving for your dreams to come true, when you allow the universe to work, what once was chased for so long just turns around and knocks on the door. Although with a bitter by-taste this time. But broken things can be repaired, so not too bitter.

Worry not about what you shall eat, or what you shall wear, where you shall live. Your heavenly Father knows what you need. Worry only about the Kingdom and everything else will be given to you.

In thee days she comes.

And that is the miracle.

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laputaindefrenchgirl · 7 years

Text

may we meet again.

I was confused. I am confused. Words fumbling around my head while a turmoil of emotions make me both want to cry and close my walls towards my own self. I’ve been there I think, but I forgot. I’ve been told that I am over sensitive, and that’s not an insult, far from that. It’s okay to not be okay.

I am 24 and constantly evolving and digging into myself to find something greater.

The past two weeks were, confusing. I mean- when the Academy of the Oscars follows you on Instagram, but at the same time, someone the closest to you hurts you the deepest.

My scale to the fucking worst to the fucking extraordinary is broken.

I never lived normal, probably never will. How do you know then? How can I expect my life to be average, safe, bliss when everything I’ve encountered (through the worst and the best), is nothing but normal?

Last week-end, I met precious souls. I went to We Are Grounders 2, a convention dedicated to The 100, held by Royal Events in Toulouse (France). I met Eliza Taylor, Ricky Whittle, Lindsey Morgan and Christopher Larkin, (though there were also Jessica Harmon and Rhiannon Fish but we didn’t really properly met). I’m having a hard time writing about this week-end. Did I mention I was confused? Yep.

The thing is, I feel lonely. I’ve been feeling this way for a few years now, I can see that just be reading my previous posts. It has its ups and downs. I found a way to work through it. Lots of amazing people told me it was okay to feel this way, and that someway, it was a chance to get to know myself, to work harder.

I know. Easier said than lived sometimes, tho.

First, I met Ricky Whittle on saturday. The guy is basically the sun. He has a very kind aura, lot of charisma and seems genuinely happy to do his job as an actor, and be there for his fans. I just felt like I gave him as much as I received from him. When we met, I gave him a small print from my art which I framed, and basically he hold it in his hands and looked at it without saying anything for like 30 seconds, which was so freaking long okay. I blurted hesitantly “Do you like it?” and he replied “Yes, I’m just impressed.” #relieved haha. He is easy to talk to, always smiling. I felt just happy by hearing him talking about his upcoming show, American Gods. I was happy he was happy. That’s how great the guy is.

Then I met Eliza Taylor, and she’s so kind and easy to go. She represents something very strong to the fandom, and she does it so well. We exchanged a few words on saturday and she told me her mom is a graphic designer. I met Lindsey Morgan, so radiant and beautiful Lindsey. Before leaving the con on sunday’s night, she came to me and said to never let go of my art. That was really thoughtful of her. I will hold the last words she said to me very dear to my heart.

Also, one of the best met from this week-end was Lanie, she’s one the manager from IDDS, and she said it herself “we’re soul sisters”. We have literally so many things in common, from wearing Wildfox to having a Mad Max obsession, and her dream is to do a photoshoot with Project Mermaids. Lanie is bubbly and sweet, I loved to get to know her even it was only for two days. She told me “Your art is what I hope my soul looks like.” and it made me so happy.

I felt understood, and my kinda art useful, meaningful.

On saturday, I decided to take an autograph with Christopher Larkin, and that was just a moment I’m not close to forget. When I entered the room for the autograph, he was smiling and super nice. We exchanged a few words, I gave him one of my small art printed too, and he said he would definitely put it in his bedroom. But then, the conversation someway changed and his words struck a chord in me. For some reason, he spoke about loneliness, and not in a sad way, far from that. It did confuse me because, even though I feel the way I feel, I was all smile and confidence at this precise moment. He said “It’s a great thing to be lonely, you’ll learn a lot about yourself in these moments.” and I was even more confused. I left the room, wondering why did he said this? I understood the meaning laced underneath his words, which was okay weirdly.

On sunday’s night I had an appetizer with the cast, and I found myself sitting between Lanie and Christopher. I was shy at first, but then thought “fuck it” and told Christopher that what he told me in the morning had me very confused but that at the same time that it was extremely spot on. He laughed, and then we had one of the best conversation I’ve ever had.

We were total strangers talking about life, its ups and downs, and why we were never ever giving up.

I know life is full of surprises and disappointments. But I really didn’t expect to heart words from a stranger that hard. It felt natural, talking about such personal stuffs. Chris asked me if I could show him more of my art, and I did.

He thanked me for showing it to him, which was unbelievable, “Man, thanks to you!”. It was really nice to just sit there and talk about my works, explain how I started drawing, why I was so keen on being a creative. He told me he loved making music, and even if he wasn’t sure about it that it felt great creating something. I completely understood that. I asked him, “Are you happy?” and he said “Yes, but it’s still work in progress.” ; again, I get this. We tend to over think everything and anything. We’re our own enemies. But when you keep going, as far as you can, then something happens and it feels just right. Having this conversation was like a breath of fresh air.

Then came the time to leave, and he stopped and hugged me, before saying “Thank you for this conversation, it’s so rare.”

I didn’t know what to answer. I answered simply thank you, and left with a smile, feeling strong and hopeful all over again. I found myself back.

Lanie told me “We need more girls like you.” and I felt empowered. It’s tiring on the daily to be ourselves and yet- to handle all the shit thrown our way. It’s hard to feel that fierce pull, to know racists, misogynist assholes and try to be polite in front of them. I don't hold back that much and try to use my voice to be better person, make the world I live in a little lighter, shiny and nicer. So yeah, these kind of feedbacks are so important to me, to hear that I’m on the right path.

Things are hard, they were once too, and probably will be again. YOU are here to create something. Maybe it’s not even for you. But it’s here and that’s your job to keep going in order to reach something greater. Don’t lose hope.

#audreytheartiste

#writing positive shit #self love #Be YOU #WAG2 #We Are Grounders #Eliza Taylor #Lindsey Morgan #Christopher Larkin #Ricky Whittle #inspirational people #may we meet again #The 100 #Royal Events #Toulouse #France #Audrey the Artiste #audreytheartiste

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eilidhink · 7 years

Text

in a week

[Ames tells Eilidh about his scars.]

eilidhink:

The grass was warm and sharp under them, tall because nobody ever mowed here by the pond; few people even knew it was here. That was why she’d dragged Ames here–to be away from people for a while, to enjoy the sun without the windows of the bar dimming it for once. They’d worn themselves out with swimming, and she thought she may have fallen asleep in the sun, because the light seemed different now than it had been when she closed her eyes, and her swimsuit was almost dry. That was alright; they could sleep here all day if they wanted, bees buzzing overhead and a breeze rustling the leaves of the trees. It was the good kind of quiet.

Eilidh sat up and stretched, glancing down at Ames beside her and smiling at the contrast between her skin, deep tan and splashed with tattoos, and his, lighter and more plain. Except for that place on his leg, the one that always made her sad. Though she didn’t know the story of how he’d gotten it, she knew it couldn’t be a happy story. Gently, she brushed her fingers over the skin beside the scar, wondering whether there was a tattoo that could hide or change or heal it, and whatever it stood for.

notyourshrink

Everything was peaceful and the silence that lingered was a comfort that Ames hadn’t realized he was missing. This was different from the usual silence he was used to, because in truth the world around him was more alive than ever. He could hear everything, birds, insects, Eilidh’s steady breathing beside him. The world was so loud, and yet it didn’t feel threatening in any way. He didn’t feel on edge here and with that revelation he knew he would have to thank Eilidh later for dragging him away.

That was the thought he was left with before his mind was jolted from its dreams from the touch of another. He immediate felt his body tense up before he remembered where he was. The grass beneath him was damp and the air was cooler from the shade that had increased from the Sun’s movement. He was still by the pond, which meant Eilidh was surely still with him. He assured himself of that fact by slowly opening his eyes and blinking up at her. Once he saw her familiar features, he smiled. He was all too aware of her fingers on his skin and was doing the best that he could to ignore the sensation to brush her hand away. She meant him no harm.

eilidhink:

“I didnae mean to wake you,” she said apologetically, pulling her hand away as though maybe she’d hurt him and that’s what made him wake up. “I was just… I was thinkin’ about your tattoos again. I’m still tryin’ to figure you out.”

He’d obviously been startled, but the way he smiled when he realized it was only her was reassuring, and she smiled back. He used to look up and see her and get a frown on his face like he’d sucked a lemon, she remembered fondly. Still did sometimes, though she often caught a corner of his mouth twitching like he wanted to smile now. It was nice—it made it easier to believe that she really did, despite all her worries, make him happy. Happier than he had been, anyway.

She wondered, though, if she’s crossed a line, touching him like that while he slept. He might be angry, and he’d have a right to be, she supposed. Scars were sensitive in more ways than one, and just because he put up with a lot from her didn’t mean this would be alright. “Did I hurt you?”

notyourshrink:

As per usual, his smile faded when he saw the worry in her expression. He knew she would pick up on his discomfort. She was good at reading others in that way. Picking up on physical signals from others was something she was an expert at, in the same way that he could read people in other ways. He thought her withdrawing her hand would be what he wanted, but her missing touch—even so close to his scar—was sorely missed.

Quickly, without thinking, he reached up and captured her hand in his. There was a moment of hesitation before he brought it to his lips and pressed a light kiss to her knuckles. “You didn’t hurt me,” he reassured her with his lips still close enough to brush against her skin. He let silence linger on for a few more seconds before he held both their hands against his chest. “I was just surprised.” He tried to lighten the atmosphere with another smile.

eilidhink:

She might not have believed him—she wasn’t in the habit of believing him when he was trying to ease her worry—but the way he touched her echoed his words. It was a romantic gesture, there was no way around that, but the water and the sun and the way he hesitated first, like he knew she might not like it, made her want to go easy on him. Besides, it was sweet, and she liked that he held onto her hand after. So she decided to believe him, that it hadn’t hurt. But that didn’t mean everything was alright.

The right thing to do would be to pretend nothing had happened, to lie back down in the grass and watch the clouds overhead and not say anything to spoil the peace of the afternoon. But maybe it was the same combination of sun and water and him that had her wanting to ask questions. If not now, when would she ever be able to? Maybe never, and she didn’t like that at all. She wanted to be able to ask.

“Are you ever goin’ to tell me how it happened? Fuck, I mean… not that you have to.” She bit her cheek in frustration, glancing away to try to collect her thoughts but leaving her hand in his to anchor them both. She wanted to know. She didn’t want to make him feel guilty for not telling her, but not knowing frustrated her, and she hated that he had so much shite he carried around in his head without help. “I just mean I’d like to know, if you ever want to tell me,” she finally said, looking down at him with a small smile, hoping she hadn’t fucked up too badly.

notyourshrink:

Blood went rushing in his ears and his heart started pounding in his chest all before she even asked. Watching her, he could tell by her expression that it was coming. He’d skirted the topic of his past for as long as he could remember—it shouldn’t surprise him that she would ask him his story again at some point. He just… He wasn’t expecting it now. That lack of preparation forced his mind into a quiet place and he hesitated in answering her.

Could he really talk about it? He’d told pieces of what he’d gone through to Chris and Dom had found out through similar means. Surely Truck knew more than he let on—or at least had guessed there were darker parts that he was hiding. They all knew portions of the story, but thankfully they hadn’t pressed for much more. They understood the pain of telling, or at least he hoped that was their reasoning. They were soldiers and it was reasonably safer to reveal things to them. They wouldn’t push where it wasn’t necessary.

But this was Eilidh—and she was a different person entirely. She would push where she felt necessary and she would no doubt manage to get information from him that he would much rather not tell. Would she be able to take in what he had to tell? He could barely handle everything himself and he was used to the pain of it all. But her? She was light and hope, and Ames was afraid his story would put a darkness in her that would never be snuffed. The very thought put a deep frown on him and he squeezed her hand, finally coming out of his thoughts. His free hand brushed thoughtlessly against the scar on his leg and he looked into her eyes. “Eilidh, I… I don’t want to put that on you.” He wanted to say that he couldn’t do it to her, but he was reminded that he promised he would try one day. She would surely remind him of that too.

eilidhink:

He was always breaking her heart, and he had no idea he was doing it. The way he fought himself and argued with himself before sharing anything with her—she hated it. She hated that he couldn’t trust her yet, but she couldn’t blame him. She was unpredictable and emotional, and she had a tendency to lay blame where it didn’t belong. Why should he trust her?

“Alright,” she said quietly. His hold on her hand was starting to feel restricting, like a reminder that he didn’t want her taking care of him, and she pulled her hand away gently. After a second’s hesitation, she laid it on his leg again, beside the scar, brushing her thumb over the damaged skin. She was trying to let him know she was going to do what she could, even if he wouldn’t tell her the whole story. If he wanted her to stop, she was sure he’d let her know.

She shouldn’t be angry with him; she knew that. He’d been a soldier, and he’d been hurt in ways he was scared to talk about. She shouldn’t take it personally. It was just really fucking hard to remember that sometimes, when she wanted to be there for him and all he’d let her do didn’t feel like nearly enough.

“I just want to know you, Ames,” she finally added, looking into his eyes, hoping she was saying the right thing in the right way to make him understand. “I feel like there are all these pieces of you I dinnae get to see, and that’s your right, but still. It rubs me the wrong way. I’m stronger than I look, you know,” she added with a small smile.

notyourshrink:

He released a slow breath that he hadn’t realized he had been holding and slowly, his eyes cautiously focused on the sky above rather than on her own eyes, sat up and ran his hands over his face. He kept his head in his hands for a brief moment, not sure of what to do anymore. The only clear thought in his mind was the realization of how calming it was to have her touching him like that. He’d thought it would have been a much darker feeling to have her brushing her thumb across his scar, but it wasn’t. It was light and he felt relaxed, despite his inner turmoil.

He owed it to her to try and trust her, didn’t he? He had said he would try, and yet here he was telling her no and proving just how little the confidence he had in her was. It unsettled his stomach and gave him another reason to be angry at himself. Try. He just needed to try.

He dropped his hands down to his lap and stared out at the pond before them, watching the water ripple with the breeze. He wanted to try for her, to prove to her that he did trust her, he just didn’t know where to begin.

“My grandparents raised me,” he reminded her softly, “they were the only family I had growing up. They taught me most of what I know. My grandmother passed right after enrolled in University. After that it was just myself and my grandfather.” He frowned and started picking at the grass beside him. “It was just us until I graduated. I really was alone after that. I had myself and a degree in linguistique that I didn’t know what to do with.” His brow furrowed as he remembered how lost he felt during that time. “I didn’t know what to do after that. I remember coming across a military recruiter one day, and I guess I thought that there wasn’t anything better I could do with myself.” He glanced over at her, just to see if she was paying attention. “A very long story short, I became part of the French Special Forces.” A sad look passed over him. “That’s where I met Jerard.” He paused to make sure she was keeping up.

eilidhink:

If he’d refused to say anything, she wouldn’t have been surprised, and she wouldn’t have forced him. It had happened before, where he’d seemed about to say something and changed his mind, locked it away again, deciding he just couldn’t yet. Maybe he still would; the whole afternoon felt fragile around her, like if she said the wrong thing or moved the wrong way, he’d decide it wasn’t safe to say anything yet, and he’d stop, change the subject, ask her to forget he’d said anything at all.

But he didn’t stop her from touching him, didn’t shy away or stiffen under her hand, and she decided to trust that, smoothing her hand over his skin, slowly, sometimes up to his hip or down to his knee but always coming back to the scar. She didn’t look at it, though. She watched his face, as if she could see when it became to much and stop him. Maybe she could, or maybe she just wanted to be able to.

It was painful to imagine him as he described himself, not very much younger, really, but young enough that he should have had more hope, more people helping him figure things out. She hated thinking of him being alone, and that only made it worse when he mentioned Jerard. Because she knew that Jerard had been lost along the way.

“And you werenae alone anymore.” She hadn’t meant to speak at all, and her voice was tentative, like the sound of the breeze. She regretted it right away, biting her cheek and looking down. Her hand covered the scar, and she let it rest there, squeezing gently like an apology for interrupting, for saying things that were painful and could have gone without saying at all.

notyourshrink:

“And I wasn’t alone anymore…” He whispered the words as though they were a reminder, even if the memories were painful to bring to the surface. His fingers tangled in the grace next to him and he started pulling on the blades, some of them snapping off in a satisfying jerk. It was a good distraction, since he was preparing to force himself to continue on.

He knew she wouldn’t force him to talk, that he could stop whenever he felt it necessary. She was good like that, even if his silence did bother her at times. He knew it did. She had told him as much, and even if she hadn’t he would be able to tell easily that it did. She would put all of that aside though, if talking became too difficult. The more he thought about it, the harder it became too.

Still, her touch was a much needed comfort and, when combined with the distractions all around him, it somehow made this whole conversation easier to stomach. Easier as it was though, he couldn’t stop himself from looking down at her hand on his leg. The scar made the memories easier to see.

“He wasn’t the only one. My unit became a new family and they all meant something to me. In a place like that, you grow close. We did lose people from time to time, but we were all there for each other to pick up the pieces.” There was a lengthy pause and the air around them seemed to fill with the anxiety building in his chest. He swallowed hard and his hold on the grass tightened. “We were special forces, which meant we were charged with a lot of dangerous tasks. I knew going out each mission meant that someone might not come home, but I convinced myself we would be okay. There was… There was this one mission, just a simple information retrieval from an informant. In and out with no issues. That was what we were told.” As he spoke, his voice grew more quiet, more forced. “It didn’t happen that way. We met the informant and got our information, but before we could leave, our convoy was attacked. An IED of some kind, I don’t really know for sure. I… I wasn’t with everyone else, but I was close enough to watch everything happen. I remember being shot and I remember the explosion.” His voice cracked involuntarily and he took in a shuddering breath before his breathing became labored. “Eilidh, I remember seeing all of them and—I was the only one left.”

eilidhink:

She wanted to stop him from pulling at the grass, except that wasn’t it at all. She wanted him not to need to–because she could understand needing to tear something apart to hold yourself together, but she didn’t want him to feel that way. She hated that he felt that way, and that there was nothing she could do but listen. What good was listening? His yanking out the grass probably helped more than Eilidh just sitting there and hearing it all did.

She listened, though. She imagined him with his friends, his family, leaning on them and letting them lean on him. She tried to imagine what he was like, then, before his heart got ripped out like the grass. They must have loved him so much, she thought, if he was the man she knew but less afraid and more willing to be open with people. People he loved, who were taken away from him like they were nothing.

The more she listened, the angrier Eilidh got. The way his voice cracked made her whole body go rigid, and her hands tightened into fists, one resting over his scar, and she stared at it for a moment, wanting so badly to hit something or to yell at someone, but not him. Not him, she told herself, swallowing the urge but having trouble looking at him, because if she saw the sadness in his face, she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from yelling, and she’d never forgive herself if she did that.

But she couldn’t keep it all in; it was too much, it was too sad, too fucking unfair, and she didn’t know what to do. So she fucked up. She looked at him, and she tried to say, “I’m sorry,” but her own voice broke, and she realized she was crying now. Fuck, don’t make this about yourself, you selfish bastard. He shouldn’t be made to fucking comfort her after all this, but she couldn’t stop the tears from falling, and she was apologizing again, this time for not being able to fucking hold herself together. You’re supposed to be strong for him, she reprimanded herself, but she didn’t feel strong at all. She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes for a second, trying to calm herself the fuck down. Trying to breathe so he’d know she was alright.

notyourshrink:

The moment he heard her breathing change, he knew he shouldn’t have said anything. It was a mistake on his part. He felt her hands move and her body became tense in a way that he recognized all too well. She was clearly upset and he couldn’t help but blame himself. His gaze shot upward to her and he watched in silence as she did her best to calm down, but the tears were still there.

She was too bright for this, too used to the world she knew and not the life he lived. Deep down he knew that she wouldn’t take his story well, but still he pushed it onto her and he was met with a reaction that almost hurt more than the memories in his head. He kept repeating in his head how he should have kept it to himself, despite her urging him to talk. He shouldn’t have listened, not about this. Now he was stuck watching her, feeling the guilt settle in his gut and not sure what else to do.

He knew he was frowning, and he knew that wouldn’t help, but he couldn’t stop himself. To make up for it, he reached over and took hold of her arm gently. Ignoring any protest she might have, he guided her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her neck and kissing her, hoping it would help in some way. It wasn’t much, but it was a gesture he knew she would respond well too. She always responded better to physical actions. He held her tightly, unwilling to let go.

“I’m sorry, Eilidh. I shouldn’t have said anything else. It’s not… It’s not a story I like to share.” He kissed her again before he pulled away to look at her. “I’m sorry.” He paused, running a hand up and down her arm. “I won’t say anything else. I shouldn’t say anything else anyway.”

eilidhink:

The gentleness of his touch made it better but also worse, as it reminded her of how unfair it was that he’d suffered and lost so fucking much. He didn’t deserve any of it, and he sure as hell didn’t deserve the pain he still lived with because of it. Her anger was still there, a twisting mess inside her, but she let him pull her onto his lap and hold her, because she couldn’t push him away. She just fucking couldn’t. And only part of her wanted to.

“I’m sorry,” she said again when he kissed her. He held her like he needed her, and she did the same, wrapping her arms around him and leaning into him. “I’m alright, really. I didnae mean to stop you, I promise. I’m sorry.” Breathe, Eilidh. She held still for a moment, trying to give back to him what he was giving her, listening to the wind and feeling the sun on her skin, feeling him against her, alive and present. She was trying to pull herself together, trying to put the lid back on all the shite his pain had brought to the surface. But the anger gnawed away at her, and she knew she was frowning as he pulled back to look at her; she couldn’t help it.

“Don’t say that.“ She shook her head, taking a deep breath to steady herself. “You can trust me. I’m alright, I’m just… It isnae fuckin’ fair, and I’m fuckin’ angry alright? You shouldnae be alone, you should have your fuckin’ family, it isnae right that you don’t.” Her lip trembled a little, but she’d stopped crying, and she was determined not to start again. Her emotions were intense and real, but she had to fucking learn when they’d just get in the way. This was about Ames, and her being a sobbing mess wasn’t going to help anything. “You can tell me the rest. I can take it, and if I start fuckin’ crying again, just ignore me.”

notyourshrink:

He wanted to believe her, trust that she would be able to take whatever it was that he could throw at her, but the unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach at even the thought of what he had left to say had him worried. What would she do? The story he had left to tell included things that he refused to forgive himself of. Eilidh, for all of her beauty and the soul that he loved so much, was just as much lion as she was lamb. She could turn in an instant, and she would have every right to do so.

He was afraid, and that fear had him tightening his hold on her. He could feel his hands shaking, despite being pressed against her body. He could refuse to continue, claim that the rest didn’t matter, but she would never accept that as an answer. She saw through his bullshit better than anyone and she was no doubt tired of his lies and excuses.

But still he was afraid. He didn’t want to remember, but he already was. The heat, the wind, while they were feeling present in the world around them now, he still remembered feeling them then too. Take a breath and talk. He pushed himself closer to the edge and assured her he had listened and was ready to continue. He clung even tighter to her before even attempting to speak and he looked everywhere but directly at her.

“I was the only one that survived,” he continued, “but I didn’t know that until later. I… I woke up and I remember asking about them, but then I realized that I wasn’t in a place I recognized.” He took a deep breath, the sound of it a pathetic shutter. “The extremists that attacked us, the ones we were supposed to be stopping, they took me and they did things to me. They wanted information or something, they wanted things I couldn’t give them, but they never stopped asking.” A shiver ran up his spine and he tried to hide it by pressing closer to her, reminding himself of where he was. “I remember wishing I had died with them,” he whispered, “that they had just killed me too. I guess they found out I spoke their language. I had value but I wished I didn’t, because if I didn’t then I wouldn’t have lived.”

eilidhink:

She’d been sure he’d refuse, shut it all back up inside himself rather than keep talking, and she was startled when he didn’t. If she was being honest, wanting him to keep going wasn’t just about him–it was about proving that she could be there for him in this, despite everything she’d put him through and all the things she couldn’t promise. And here he was, giving her a chance, and maybe it meant that he was letting himself need her more than she was strictly comfortable with, but in the moment, with the way he was holding her and shaking but still trusting her enough to keep talking, that didn’t matter. It was a problem for another time.

She hovered on the edge of tears, and her instinct was to cling to him as he did to her, but she made herself keep breathing, made herself be gentle with him. She ran one hand through his hair, slowly, moving from his temple to the back of his neck, over and over. It was one of the things that soothed both of them, something she could do for him that would make her feel better, too.

It was harder and harder to keep herself from shaking like he did, though. When he mentioned that they did things to him, she froze for a second, and she could swear her heart stopped in her chest. He held her too close to see the tears that fell from her eyes then, but she turned to kiss his hair for a long moment before she went back to running her fingers through it. She was selfishly glad he wasn’t telling her everything, wasn’t telling her exactly what they did to him, because she wasn’t sure she could control how she reacted if he did.

She was afraid to ask the question that came to mind, but it didn’t matter in any case. The answer had been obvious for a long time–he’d never really stopped wishing he’d died with his friends. Nothing scared her more or made her feel more helpless; compared to that, letting him fall in love with her was nothing. She took a shaky breath and held him tighter, hiding her face against his neck. “I’m glad you lived,” she said quietly. “I know it’s selfish, but I dinnae care. I’m glad.” He’d been through hell, she shouldn’t be glad for that, and she wasn’t exactly. But she was glad he was here, alive and safe and in her arms. She could only hope he’d understand.

notyourshrink:

Maybe he should have been crying too, matching the wetness her tears left on his skin. He didn’t cry though, a cruel realization in itself. Perhaps, he thought, it was a lack of pity for himself that did it. He couldn’t weep for his own past because he didn’t deserve the sorrow. He’d done things to erase any belief he might have had in himself a long time ago, and as a result the tears wouldn’t come.

Still, he wouldn’t stop her. Part of it was because she had asked him not too, but the main reason was because he was afraid to try. If he did and tried to explain why he didn’t deserve her tears, he was afraid she would never come back. He’d rather have her pity than have her afraid of him. It was one big mess in his mind really, one that had him constantly battling over whether or not he should keep being around her or not, among other things. His mind was as confused as ever and he hated it.

He wished he could ignore it entirely, hoping that doing so would make it so he could stop shaking. He doubted that possible though. It had been years and the shaking hadn’t stopped yet. Even with Eilidh in his arms, he knew it would continue on with the memories. It was a curse he convinced himself he deserved, just like his solitude. Unfortunately the latter hadn’t been working to his liking.

Was he glad he lived? The question was one he asked himself daily and the answer, to this day, was still no. It’s why he had clung to alcohol so tightly. At least when he was drunk he could pretend it were possible to forget he survived. Then Eilidh came into the picture and requested he put down the bottle–when she became something that did the opposite of what he had wanted by making him feel more alive than ever, he had to be reminded of his survival more often and his feelings towards it were becoming conflicted.

He kissed the top of her head and took a moment to collect himself before even daring to answer her, and even then he knew it wasn’t enough. “I know you are.”

eilidhink:

She shook her head. “I need to say it, though. I dinnae know if you really understand how I feel, because I’m so fuckin’ chicken about usin’ my words about things like this.” She made him talk, all the fucking time, even–especially–when he didn’t want to. She made him dig up all these memories, and he was brave enough to let her, and still she struggled to explain the most basic things about what was going on in her head. It wasn’t fair.

She looked at him for a long moment, her fingers running through his hair, wondering how he could keep from crying. Wondering if they’d broken him so badly that he just couldn’t anymore, like they’d taken out that part of him and replaced it with anger or hate or just emptiness. She wanted to make it better, but she had no idea whether anything she did made a difference. “I’m selfish, Ames. I’m sittin’ here, listening to you talk about how people took away your family and hurt you and used you, and all I can think of is what a terrible person I am for bein’ glad you lived through it all. For bein’ glad that you keep living through it every fuckin’ day, because I cannae stand the thought of losing you.” She looked down, embarrassed by her own vulnerability.

“I wish you’d be selfish, too. Just sometimes. Just that you’d sometimes be glad you’re still alive, so I dinnae have to feel like I’m alone in this.”

notyourshrink:

But he was selfish, just not in the same way. He had been at one point, back when pain greeted him in the morning and he was willing to do anything to be thrown back into the darkness. Everything was a strange mixture of complicated simplicity back then. The choices he made to survive were simple, but the repercussions were complex. One simple choice for him could mean a string of complex outcomes for another. He’d worked hard to forget about the things he had a hand in, but it would seem those wrongs still held tightly to him.

That weight made it hard to accept everything he was told by others. They would tell him he was kind and gentle and so many other things, but he always found those revelations hard to believe. Being selfish put him into the position he was in now. He was tired of being that way.

His hold on her tightened further and he leaned into her touch, granting himself a chance to feel something good before the self loathing set in again. Before the pain returned. “Being selfish hasn’t always been a good thing for me. I’ve… i’ve hurt people by being that way. It’s why I’m so… It’s why I’m so broken now. I should feel upset and I should feel sad, but I just feel content.” He hesitated before he chanced looking into her eyes. “I am trying to be more grateful,” he added. “I’m trying, but sometimes I don’t know if I can be.” He brushed his fingers along her cheek and offered her a smile. “I’m trying because of you and the others.” But mostly because of you.

#archive #notyourshrink #eilidh and ames #queued

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whitewolfofwinterfell · 7 years

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In a previous ask you listed Stefan as one of your favorite characters and I wonder what makes him one of your favorite characters? What makes your drawn to him and root for him? A lot of people say his character is boring, but I disagree, though I've only seen the first 3 seasons so I might not have right to an opinion as I haven't watched the later seasons.... but I love Stefan and I absolutely adore Paul and I think he's very good at portraying his character and the different sides of him etc

Of course you have the right to have an opinion. Even if you’d only watched one episode, you still have the right to have an opinion. I’m more than happy to share with you why I love Stefan, but a little pre-warning there will be spoilers from seasons 3-8 and also my response will be pretty hefty, which I’m sure you’ll be expecting if you’ve read any of my other responses to asks haha.

When I think about what makes Stefan one of my favourite characters there are so many reasons that I couldn’t just choose one. But a good place to start would be to say, the simplest reason is that I’m just connected to him and once you develop that connection with a character it’s hard to break it.

Other than that, the reason I love Stefan is because he’s just such a complex character. He’s actually so complex, that the writers themselves haven’t seemed to know what to do with him a points throughout the course of the show. Paul’s abilities as an actor are fantastic and the fact that he is able to so perfectly portray Stefan and the Ripper and make them feel like two separate people that are also interlinked is amazing. Honestly, I only have to see a gif and I instantly know whether Stefan has his humanity or not based on Paul’s expressions, eyes and body language. It’s really incredible how he manages to do that. And I don’t want to reveal any spoilers, but in season 5 Paul demonstrates his acting abilities even further.

It frustrates me to no end that people brand Stefan as being boring. It’s such a narrow-minded and stereotypical view of his character. I understand where it comes from since in seasons 1 and 2, he was that typical good guy, always doing the right thing. As Matt said, Stefan’s “that guy”, as in the guy that’s so perfect that everyone hates him. But I don’t understand how anyone that actually watched the show (past season 3 in particular) can have that opinion of him. The truth of the matter is that Stefan in season 1 was only half of himself, if that. He was still so caught up in the baggage of his past, so consumed with staying “clean” and managing his blood lust, of not giving into his dark urges as a vampire, that it forced him to strip himself back completely. He spoke softer, he carried himself in a particular way, he forced smiles, he tried his hardest to be an ordinary 17 year old, but in reality he was anything but. Regardless of how you look at it, a lot of the time in season 1, Stefan wasn’t himself. We got to see more of a glimpse of the other side to him towards the end, when he struggled with his blood lust after Elena gave him her blood to save him in 1x18. This is where we really saw that Stefan wasn’t “that guy” and that he was just like everybody else - he had his issues, he lost control and he wasn’t perfect. The thing that struck me the most during those episodes when Stefan was struggling with his blood lust, was that he was torn between that part of him that really just wanted to let go and drain the blood from everyone in sight and the part of him that was desperately clinging to the person he wanted to be and was deep down inside. The fact that he told Elena at the end of 1x19 how much he was struggling really highlighted that. Stefan really opened the flood gates in 1x20 when we finally learned the story of how he and Damon came to be vampires and he explained to Elena how he truly felt; the crippling guilt he carries all the time and the pain that goes along with it that was so intense that it actually made him not want to live anymore. That’s the point where we started to get a glimpse of the experiences that had led Stefan to where he was and formed the person he was. We saw that he’d done terrible things in his past and he was a monster, but the fact that he felt genuine remorse and pain for that proved he was more than that and as Elena said, he made a choice to be good and reject the person the blood made him. How can you not root for someone like that? Someone that is not naturally good, but nonetheless fights their damn hardest to be the best they can be?

What I also love about Stefan is that, as you mentioned, there are so many different sides to him. Obviously the first thing that comes to mind when I say that is Stefan and the Ripper, but it’s not limited to just that. I think perhaps a more accurate way to describe him is to say that he’s very multi-layered, rather than saying he has different sides to him. With each episode that passed I caught a glimpse of a trait of his that I’d never seen before or I learned more about his past. There’s always something new to learn about Stefan and even 8 seasons on, there still is. Whilst in the earliest episodes he came across as rather boring and lacking in personality or substance, with the appearance of Lexi in 1x08 we were opened up to a completely different side to him. Suddenly he was a really fun guy with good taste in music (Bon Jovi, duh!), that, in Lexi’s words, jumped naked into the Trevi fountain and got drunk on the torch of the statue of Liberty. We got to see him relax, loosen up and show his lighter side and we discovered that him being uptight is just because he’s not fully comfortable around people he doesn’t know too well. Is that a crime? In fact, I’d argue most people suffer from the same problem and struggle to be themselves around new people. Personally, this made Stefan very relatable and that’s one of the first steps in me connecting to a character. Stefan is also deeply sensitive, he really feels things and is affected by the pain of other people. He can’t help but get emotionally invested and involved in other people’s problems and it’s the reason why he’s always stepping in to save people and help them in anyway he can. His journal has always been his way of being able to channel those emotions and express his inner turmoil at carrying the weight of not just his own feelings, but those of the people around him and yet again, all of this is something I personally relate to, because I’m exactly the same.

I know that along with being branded as boring, Stefan has also earned the title of “good guy”, which is kind of directly tied to being boring. That guy that’s always the hero, always doing the right thing and is just and fair is generally boring because people want the anti-hero, the villain that they can root for to earn their redemption. The thing is, calling Stefan the good guy is as narrow minded as calling him boring, because he is certainly not the good guy. He has maimed, tortured, killed and feasted upon countless of innocent people all for his own amusement and I believe there’s a deep part of Stefan that is truly evil. The proof we have of that is how drastically different Stefan is whenever he is without his humanity. With characters such as Damon and even Caroline, let’s be honest, there was barely any difference when they didn’t have there humanity and with Damon in particular, I actually couldn’t tell you at what points during the series he had his humanity and the points that he didn’t. However, when it comes to Stefan, boy, you know it. Without his humanity, he is utterly ruthless, there is no limit on what he’ll do, nothing that’s too far or too much, he just does whatever the hell he wants. His eyes, his mannerisms, his behaviour, his actions, the things he says, everything about him is different when he doesn’t have his humanity. Watching Stefan in season 3 was the first time I really took notice of him and was like, “Whoa, this guy!” Seeing that dramatic turn in his character was intriguing and honestly made me fall in love with Stefan in a completely new way. But what was fascinating about Stefan in season 3 is that no matter how far he fell into that black hole of darkness, he never stopped clinging to that humanity, deep inside himself and that is who Stefan truly is. That’s his heart and soul. The darkness in him is essentially created solely from his vampirism. That’s what’s so strange about him, too, is that I actually genuinely don’t perceive his darker side to be a part of his true self. I think that if you dig right into the center of Stefan and get to his soul, he is truly good and pure. All of his issues come from being a vampire. Think about it. As a human Stefan was pretty happy - he was the apple of his father’s eye, his mother doted on him (before she “died”), he had a good relationship with his big brother, he lived a wealthy lifestyle and when we saw flashbacks of Stefan as a human he always struck me as being pretty contented. The start of Stefan’s issues were when he accidentally killed his dad and took those first few drops of blood. From there it spiralled and once he’d made Damon turn and Damon completely turned against him, the dark side of Stefan was born. I personally have always believed that the Ripper was created because of Stefan’s issues with Damon. He lost his mother, killed his father, was responsible for Katherine’s “death” and Damon was the only person he had left in the world. All that kept him going was the thought of spending eternity with his brother and once he realised that he’d messed up and Damon hated him, it broke him. The only way he knew to deal with that pain and loneliness and devastation was to turn it off and lose himself in the blood. And those impulses have never left him, it’s become almost a learned behaviour for him now. He feels pain and his immediate reaction is to feed to numb the pain. It’s his coping mechanism. But I’d argue that unlike a lot of Stefan stans, that Stefan doesn’t have an addictive personality. If he was human or had always been human I don’t believe he would be an addict. His need for blood was created from being a vampire and the events that led to it and the consequences too.

Another reason I love Stefan, which is actually one of the simpler ones: have you seen how he treats Elena? How he treats Caroline? How he treats Bonnie? How he treats everyone? (x) (x) Stefan is a gentleman. He’s sweet, he’s kind and he’s sincere. From the second he came onto the show in season 1 he had an overbearing desire to protect everyone. Even though it was Damon that turned Vicki, Stefan took full responsibility for her and dedicated himself to trying to help her deal with the transition, he supported Caroline through her transition and without him she really wouldn’t have made it, he forgave Katherine for the trauma she put him through for 160 years and gave her peace in her final moments, he teamed up with Rebekah and promised to help her find the cure despite her being his enemy, he saved Damon multiple times despite the fact Damon had made his life a living hell, he stepped aside from the love of his life to let his brother be happy, he forgave his mother for abandoning him and pretending to be dead for over a century. The list could continue, but the point is Stefan is a forgiving, compassionate person that constantly shows how much of a decent and strong person he is through the selflessness and mercy he shows, even to his enemies. These are the traits that make a person strong and Stefan has all of them.

Every time I look at him, I just can’t help but wish the best for him, because he deserves it so much. I’ve seen him sacrifice so much and he’s never really got the rewards or benefits and he’s never begrudged that or even complained. He keeps trying to move forward and I also love that despite the fact that he comes across as a rather brooding and depressive character, he is actually so filled with hope. No matter what happens to him, he never gives up, he simply looks at what’s happened and finds a way to deal with it. And I hate making comparisons, but I feel it’s relevant to make this point. Unlike Damon, Stefan actually rarely (if ever) flies off the handle when he’s upset or angry (unless he has no humanity). I mean, Elena dumped him and slept with Damon within 24 hours, then they both lied to him about being together and do you know what he did? He threw a chessboard across the room. In season 5 when he was dealing with PTSD after being locked in a safe and drowning over and over for months and was still struggling to deal with his break-up with Elena, he kept it all inside and dealt with it by letting Caroline and Katherine help him. He didn’t blame anyone else or result to violent or reckless behaviour, he pushed through and attempted to deal with it in a healthy way without being a burden on anyone else. And that is who Stefan is. He never asks for anything, he never wants pity or sympathy or credit, he just does what he has to, what he’s supposed to and that’s it.

I could really go on all day about why I love Stefan, but the best way to summarise it is that he’s just a loveable character to me in every single way. He has so much to offer and despite the writers failing on knowing what to do with such a fantastic character, their poor writing still can’t take away from the complexity of his character and I really praise Paul for managing to convey that, even as the seasons have progressed.

From the beginning the story was narrated as being Stefan’s story and he was the one that drew me in. He’s the vampire I was intrigued to know, his history was the one I watched for and his relationships and development were what I wanted to see and that has never really changed. Stefan is the heart and soul of the show (along with Elena) and it wouldn’t be the same without him. And whilst I have the chance, I want to argue the point, that although Damon has the reputation for being the funny brother, Stefan is actually very funny (x) (x). Damon might have his snappy one liners, but Stefan’s snarky comments and sass is so much more subtle, and in my opinion, funnier. Just thought I’d throw that out there as a final point haha.

#answered #my meta #tvd meta

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