#Nobody else should feel pressured to do the same

[harmoniouseclipse]

This is so disheartening to see. It feels so weird to add a whole new cast of characters to Genshin and have only one of them be dark skinned. Granted, Iansan will be the darkest character in Genshin when she releases, but I did see a particular issue while talking with my friend; here is the chart I made going in depth about why her skin still feels so off to me (as an artist).

I feel like they are trying (somewhat) to push more out of their comfort zones, which I applaud them for. However, when you release a trailer filled with a whole new cast and only one of them actually has dark skin that isn't pale to medium tan, it creates a bad look imo.

And regarding their other games, it's so odd to make Arlan's whole thing be named with things referring to slavery. I think the devs maybe thought that they were giving empowering representation since most of them have to do with breaking free from oppression, but it really comes off as weird and disjointed. And I also feel like they could have added much better representation regarding Penacony. I don't play HSR so I was very surprised when a friend of mine told me that Boothill was based off of Native Americans, because as an American myself he is very much reminiscent of stereotypical southern country people. Of course I'm glad they didn't go the alternative route by making him a stereotypical Native American, since I have multiple friends who are and they are all very different people, none of them acting like how Hollywood portrays that culture though. And I also have never played HI3 but again, when my friend told me about one of the character's whole thing being that she hates her dark skin and bleaches it I was again shocked. But again, since I don't play these games and I know that HI3 was still one of their earlier games I wonder if it was just the early stages of development and poor aging kind of like old movies. Not as a way to excuse it, but as a way to understand why they went with that choice and from what I have seen they haven't copied that character plot(?) in any of their other games, thankfully.

E made an incredible video regarding the topic of Genshin's colorism so I'll link it here for you to watch since she does a much better job of explaining it than me lmao

I'm gonna end it here but I do have some extra points in the tags I wanna bring up briefly, and I might continue this in another reblog if I have time but for now these are the main thoughts I had ✌🏻

So, I hopped on here and saw nobody talking about the atrocity that is what genshin is doing to Natlan and since it was suggested we move the boycott to where others may not be able to hear Twitter specifically I decided to post something which I've normally never done.

Genshin has taken inspiration for Natlan from a bunch of different ethnic groups around the world, including but not limited to the Aztec, the Mayan, the Incan, the Māori, Native Americans, Native Hawaiians, and the West African.

The reason this is so dangerous is because it is literally covering up and whitewashing cultures. Hoyoverse promotes itself as a "diverse" and "worldwide" game, but if you can't even represent the people you're taking from properly, then what's the point? When it comes down to it, Hoyo can make beautiful representations based on cultures. One that I find consistently mentioned is Yunjin, who has a popular Chinese opera singer singing for an idle animation.

This extends outside of genshin, too, though. One point that particularly enrages me is the point of one Carole Pepper. Now, I haven't played much HI3, but from what I've heard, this poor woman hates her skin so much that she bleaches it. And to add insult to injury when I showed two side by side pictures of Carole to a friend of mine, said friend pointed out that she dressed more feminine the whiter she got.

Arlan's skill names have also been a cause of concern for a while now. With HSR releasing another person of color, I also beg you to consider the following: "Why did no playable characters on Penacony have darker skin? It was heavily based on America's Jazz Age, so wouldn't they include the people who created said music?" Another point is that of both Aventurine and Boothill. Both of these men were influenced by minorities and heavily whitewashed. Aventurine was based on the rromani peoples, and Boothill was based on Native Americans. Neither has an once of melanin.

I'll be posting more about this issue later but for now I'll leave it at that. I'll be reposting some art I've seen that incorporates more of these cultures and studying up more on what has been portrayed through this new trailer.

[chronicsymptomsyndrome]

I know its kind of silly to say “don’t feel bad for canceling because of pain, fatigue, etc” because I know guilt is a reflex you can’t easily refrain from. But you can reason with yourself so instead I’ll say this:

Nobody can feel what you’re feeling but you. Nobody knows the severity of what you would be putting yourself through if you were to “tough it out.”

If you do “tough it out,” the purpose for you doing the thing will most likely not be fulfilled anyway. You probably will not be mentally present or engaged. You probably will not have a good time or get much out of it. Etc.

If people really have such a problem with it, thats a huge red flag. Being transparent about your needs and boundaries is a great way to weed people like that out of your life.

If you have any kind of chronic illness or disability, remember that you probably have a very warped judgement of what is “reasonable” to endure in terms of pain, fatigue, burnout, etc.

You didn’t ask for this, you don’t deserve this, there is no reason you should have to bear the weight of it alone. I bet if someone else was in your position, you wouldn’t mind helping accommodate for them?

Low energy days are truly sacred, take them seriously. Please respect your body’s signals. “If you do not choose times to rest, your body will choose for you” or however the saying goes

It is so much pressure to have to deliberate what sacrifices are necessary for proper self care. Give yourself extra credit for having to deal with that stress on top of whatever is putting you in that position in the first place. Thats a lot at once

You are leading by example and showing others that you would never expect them to hurt or overextend themselves for your benefit. Putting yourself first always inspires other to do the same.

Please be proud of yourself for even considering canceling and putting your needs first. That is so strong of you <3

[puari-vol]

Peer Pressure

CW: Hypnosis

I stood quietly and unobtrusively off in a corner of the ‘slumber party’ trying my best not to bother anyone. Occasionally I glanced over at my friend Kelsey who was talking animatedly with some girls and wondered why she had insisted I come along. Of course I had agreed at the time, it seemed like a good way to make friends. But now that I was here…I couldn’t bring myself to try talking to anyone. I fixed my eyes on the cup of water in my hand. This was all… fine, I was just being Kelsey's designated driver. I was being helpful, like a good friend should be. It didn’t matter if I had fun or not. 

I zoned out enough that when Kelsey tapped me on the shoulder I jumped

“Did you really just stand in the corner this whole time? Geez come on you goof its time for the movie!” 

She took my arm and dragged me toward the TV. Both couches were full so I ended up sitting cross legged on the ground in front of them. Kelsey was about to sit next to me before she was suddenly pulled away to sit with some other girls, so now I was just sitting next to two strangers. They didn't seem to mind me, but they didn't introduce themselves either.

The lights go off and the movie starts, the chatter dies down as everybody watches. It seemed like there was something wrong with the audio, there was an odd droning sound playing under the movie. But it wasn’t loud enough to be annoying and nobody else seemed to notice so I kept quiet. The movie was honestly kinda boring, I glanced around and accidentally made eye contact with someone doing the same thing. I felt myself blush and turned back to pay attention. The movie kept going and after a while I started to space out. I was so out of it that when something changed it took me a while to notice. The movie wasn’t playing anymore, or maybe…this was part of the movie? The screen just showed a pink and purple spiral spinning around and around. The droning had gotten louder. How long had the spiral been on the screen? I couldn’t remember. I looked to the girl on my right, about to ask if something was wrong with the movie. But she was just staring at the screen, focused. I noticed everyone else was doing much the same. I quickly turned back to the screen, not wanting to embarrass myself. As I watched I tried to remember what had been happening in the movie for this to make sense, the spiral and been going for at least a few minutes now, but the more I tried the more the details of the movie seemed fuzzy and distant. I stared intently at the screen, trying to find out what everyone else was looking at…

I blinked when there was suddenly someone sitting in front of me. I only noticed because she waved her hand in front of my face after she sat down. She was backlit by the spiral on the screen and she smiled at me. 

“Hey there” she said softly “First time here?”

I just nodded feeling strangely dizzy.

“Kelsy said she was bringing someone knew, is that you?”

I nodded again, she was gazing intently at me and I started to feel self conscious, I averted my eyes and saw that everyone else was still just staring at the spiral

“Well Kelsy has good taste, you’ll be lovely”

I blush, not expecting the compliment

“Um thanks” I mumble no longer able to meet her eyes. She was grinning at me now

“Are you ready?”

“Uh…for what?”

“To learn about the button that turns off your brain” 

I blinked as I tried to sort through the nonsense statement

“The what?”

She giggled and pointed off to my left 

“Just watch, you’ll get the idea”

I looked and saw she was pointing at the girls sitting on one of the couches, all of their eyes were glued to the spiral. As I watched, another girl came up behind them. Starting with the girl on the far left, she leaned down and whispered something into her ear. Then reached over and tapped her on the forehead. At once, she went limp. Head lolling forward, eyes closed. She slumped into the girl sitting next to her, who jolted as if suddenly startled awake, eyes blinking rapidly. But the girl behind the couch simply reached over and tapped her on the forehead as well. And suddenly both girls seemed to be fast asleep leaning into each other. The girl behind the couch smiled and gave them both a pat on the head before moving on to the rest of the couch

“You see? All good girls like you have a button that turns off their brain” 

I was staring open mouthed at the girls now asleep on the couch

“But…but I’m not-”

“Shhhhh”

I felt a hand on my cheek, and my head was turned to face the girl in front of me again. I was blushing like crazy now and I stammered something incoherent. The girl just smiled kindly

“Don’t worry, you won't be bothered by that kind of stuff soon”

Hand still on my cheek, she turned my head to the right, where I watched the girl sitting right next to me get tapped on the forehead. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she slumped back, mouth open and drooling.

“Isn’t she pretty?” 

She put her hand below my chin and made me nod, I hardly noticed I was just staring at the girl

“Doesn’t she look beautiful, all sleepy like that?”

She made me nod again

“Don’t you want to look like that?”

I nodded, I wasn’t sure if she made me or not

She turned my head to face her again. Her other hand was held up in front of me, her index finger pointed at me. My eyes focused on the tip of her finger

“W-wait”

“Nighty night”

She tapped me on the forehead

[writingwithcolor]

Author with cultural disconnect: How do I write without making it seem as if I hate my own heritage?

Anonymous asked:

I’m a white-passing Asian author, and I’ve never felt all that connected with my heritage. My current story centers on a fairy (re: fantasy-world POC) child and ends with her realizing that her parents are toxic af and her human best friend’s family takes her in. This is the perfect opportunity to sort through my own issues with my heritage and finally convince my monkey-brain that it’s okay to not know how to cook Vietnamese food or celebrate tet or speak Vietnamese… But I also realize that if I’m not careful, this could easily slip into “Hey, I hate my heritage and so should you!” So how can I stop that from happening?

Writing for yourself first, not an audience

I ask you a simple question: why put pressure on yourself to have any sort of non-offensive messaging for a story that hasn’t been drafted yet and is to convince your monkey brain it’s okay to exist as yourself?

That seems like the fastest way to stop the story from being actually cathartic and instead a performance art piece when you already feel hung up on performing as “properly” part of your culture.

As I said in Working Through Identity Issues and Other Pitfalls of Representation, not all stories you write need to be for public consumption. Especially stories you’re using for your own self-processing and therapy, because you’re trying to get a cathartic moment that is rewriting your own story.

At what point does the public need to be involved in that?

I do understand the compulsion to want to post—I have definitely posted some Questionable™ material in my drive to get validation for feeling the way I do, wanting people to witness me and say “same.” It’s a powerful urge. Sometimes it’s worked, but most of the time it’s just made me feel horrifically exposed.

But you really do not have to post in public to get any sort of validation. Set up a groupchat with friends if you want the cheerleading and witnessing—people who will know your story and give you good-faith interpretations and won’t accuse you of anything. Honestly I’d suggest setting up this groupchat anyway; as someone who just got one again after quite a few years without it, my productivity has skyrocketed from being around supportive people.

Let the monkey brain have its monkey brain moment and shut off the concept the story is for the public. Shut off the concept of performing for an unknown audience. It’s for you. Be authentic, no matter how bad it would look to outsiders. They’re not reading it. Part of getting catharsis, sometimes, is being the worst version of yourself, somewhere nobody else can see it.

Deciding to publish the work

If, after you do write it, you find that you actually do want to polish it up and put it somewhere… edit it. Rewrite it entirely if that’s what it takes. Take the story through the same drafting process every story needs to go through, ripping out the unfortunate implications as you go.

Editing can be its own form of healing, as you try to figure out what this character would need to not be hateful. As you realize, once this longform journal entry is out of your head, what was bothering you now that you can see it pinned down on a page. But you absolutely do not need to write with the intention of editing in that healing. When I’ve tried, it’s fallen flat.

The healing will come from being yourself, no public involved, and writing about your feelings in their rawest form. Anything else is extra.

There’s no point in trying to put guard rails on the drafting process, not for a deeply personal piece. And by the time that drafting process is done, you’ll likely have specific scenarios and contexts that you can ask about, and you might even have ideas on how to fix it yourself once the story has a shape to it.

This is 100% a situation where there’s no real sense in idea workshopping something in the plotting stage. You’re doing something for you. Decide if it’s for public consumption later (while acknowledging “no” is a perfectly valid answer), and only figure out how to make the story not overtly harmful if you decide to put it out into the public.

~ Leigh

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 11

Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader + outdoors/public

How are yall spending your weekend? Im gonna spend it doing absolutely nothing, i hope. This kinda goes along with the vader prompt from last year, which you can read here. But it can still be read as a stand-alone, i think?

this has some dom/sub vibes between the reader and Vader, that just came as i wrote this. enjoy.

2024 kinktober masterlist

Being Darth Vader’s imperial officer came with its benefits and drawbacks. Being so clearly marked as Vader’s, in a special uniform that fit his colour scheme awoke fear in those around you, and garnered you much respect. It also meant you didn’t have to fear your superior in the same way, especially after you had started frequenting his quarters so he could “make sure your uniform was up to code”.

Most times it ended with you on your knees with him in your mouth, but on days where his pains were at the worst, Lord Vader simply used the force to have his way with you instead. You couldn’t see his face, and there was little chance you ever would, but you had a feeling he was smiling. At least a little, as you writhed and gasped on the cold metal floors of his chambers, as he played you like the little tool you were to him.

Sith did not love, it was not in their nature. But Vader could admit he was at least… fond of you. it was not in the same way he felt about Padme, no one could be Padme. But you were different in your own way. You didn’t fear him the same way as everyone else. You did fear him, everyone did, but it had a layer of respect in it that he hadn’t felt since he was Anakin Skywalker.

Your loud dreams about both Vader and Skywalker also helped with that, as Vader worked to slowly push the thoughts of Anakin out and replace them with only himself. It did feel nice to sometimes take the form of Anakin in your dreams, just so you could fuck him for once, since that wasn’t possible after he became more machine than man.

But being Vader’s own personal imperial officer, his “pet” as some whispered around the ship or death star, also came with the benefit that nobody dared question you. Or rather, nobody dared question Lord Vader. Which was why nobody questioned your position at his feet as he stood, staring out into hyperspace.

The few working around the bridge dared barely look in your direction, most fearing the powers of the force. Most knew little about the force, only that it was a power that made a being able to do things that should only be possible by gods. And the empire had made sure to scrub away what little knowledge there was. This resulted in most thinking that Vader always knew what they were thinking. He could, if he wanted too, and did most days. But with you at his feet there were more interesting things to focus on.

You had been ordered to stay quiet as you rubbed against his boot, feeling the unforgiving nature of his metal limbs against where you were most sensitive. Your uniform was pristine as always, not even allowed to have a single stitching out of place. That would be insulting to your lord you know, to walk around in such a special uniform and look dirty or disorganized.

But it was so hard to keep your face blank and your voice silent as you felt the force tighten around your base again, putting a stop to the orgasm that had been bubbling for what must have been the tenth time. At least, you thought so, maybe you had lost track.

The whine that was bubbling up in your throat was cut up with a familiar pressure, the minimal creak of Vader’s gloved hand telling you that he was using the force to quiet you. He had never choked you to near death, but he liked to remind you that he could. Vader could do anything to you, and at this point, after serving him for so long, you had a feeling you would let him.

As if he could sense your thoughts, which he most likely could, the squeezing around your throat and shaft lessened. It was still there, like an ever-constant reminder that he could snap your neck if he so wanted, but it only served to make your blood rush faster.

It was a little messy that your body had learned to become aroused by his threats, or perhaps promises, that he could kill you if he so pleased. About Vader’s absolute power over you, and anyone under his rule. The emperor may be the one at the top, but to you, Vader was the greatest.

The minimal hitch in his rhythmic breath made you shudder. He had liked those thoughts. It was only your amount of experience that you knew that, having had to learn what every minimal hitch of breath, curl of a finger, or turn of his helmet covered head meant. But it felt so rewarding now, to be the only one able to pick such things up.

There was a press against your prostate, an invisible force that you now knew was the force. Lord Vader had clearly been pleased with your opinion of him, rewarding you by rubbing that one place inside you that you didn’t touch yourself anymore, after Vader had ordered you not too.

It made a shuddering soft gasp leave you, causing an immediate flash of shame and panic to fill your chest. Lord Vader had told you to be quiet, and yet you had gasped, loud enough for those sitting by the panels closest dared peak over, before immediately looking away in fear once more.

You could feel tears gather in your eyes. You must have disappointed Lord Vader so much, you couldn’t even follow a simple order. The thought of his punishments made you want to grovel for forgiveness. Vader didn’t punish you in ways he punished others, there was no fear of death, but feeling him torture your prostate or cock from the other side of the ship, sometimes made you wish it was death.

For Vader didn’t do punishments lightly, small things like uniform irregularities had you edged till you sobbed. Or when he wasn’t in incredible pain, Vader found it fun to put you over his knee, letting his heavy metal hand spank you. Feeling his ungloved hand honestly always felt hotter than seeing his cock, like you were feeling and witnessing so far beyond your league that you could never dare try to put it into words.

But instead of punishing you, Vader’s hand slowly raised and placed itself on the top of your head, knocking your hat to the floor with a soft noise. In the quiet room it felt loud, loud enough to make some of the other worker’s flinch. Lord Vader didn’t need to speak, his one action was enough for you to sigh in relief. He was feeling forgiving today, he wouldn’t punish you for your small mishap. For now, at least.

You could hear his voice in your head, making you almost jolt. It was strange to get used too, to hear him through your mind and not your ears, but you understood it. Lord Vader couldn’t be caught speaking to anybody he didn’t need to speak too, so it always felt more intimate when he spoke to you this way. When he praised you or scolded you, like the pet you were.

His rumbled deep words had your neck straightening, as you moved your hips more insistently against his boots. You knew you would have to shine them later, most likely with your tongue, but that was fine too, you didn’t mind. Instead, you struggled to keep yourself quiet as Vader used the force to stimulate you further, almost cruelly forcing you over the edge as you gripped his leg, shaking all over as you were finally allowed to finish.

The heavy gloved hand on top of your head was all the comfort you got, at least in the eyes of the others there. Nobody could see how the force slowly rubbed your limbs and ran across your brain like a comforting cold cloth. Times like these reminded you that Lord Vader could be kind, in his own way at least, and to you.

It made it easier to pick up your hat again and rise to your feet, acting like nothing was happening as a small twitch of Vader’s hand had the creases in your uniform smoothing out. You could see the nearby workers blushing as you put your hat back on and took your dutiful spot behind Vader. Never beside him, and never in front of him, but behind him like the loyal pet that they all whispered you were.

And maybe you were a pet, all Vader had to do was tell you to bark. And bark you would, until your throat was raw, and your lungs collapsed. Because Vader was all you had, and something told you, that you were all he had in return.

[scarletemeraldpurple]

Kinktober Day 2: Marking

Agatha Harkness x Sapphic Reader

Wanda keeps flirting with you and Agatha needs to stake her claim. She doesn’t expect her methods to make you cum

Content notes: Lots and lots of biting, reader is called good girl, sweet girl, slut, pain slut, masochist. Reader cums from getting bit and nipple play. Use of magical restraints.

“I hate that she keeps flirting with you.” Agatha said.

“She’s like that with everyone. You know Wanda.” You assured. “And you know I’m yours.”

“I know. But maybe she needs a reminder.”

“What are you thinking?” You said, playfully tilting your head to the side.

Agatha smiled at you. “Well, that’ll be a good start.”

And soon you were pressed against the wall with Agatha pressing kisses to the side of your neck. They were sloppy and opened mouthed, but not quite what either of you were looking for, yet.

“Please Agatha.” You whined.

“Please what?” She murmured agains against your skin.

“Please Agatha, please leave a mark.”

“Good girl. But you know I’m not stopping at one right?”

“You better not.”

Agatha finally sunk her teeth into you and you practically squeaked. She held you firm, not letting you squirm away. Then she sucked hard on the spot until she was sure you’d have a deep purple spot that would stay for days.

Your thoughts started to go fuzzy. Your neck was such a sensitive spot and Agatha knew just how to mark you unravel.

“So pretty with my mark on you. I think the other side should match hm?”

“Yes ma’am” was all you could muster in response.

“You’re such a little masochist. Sometimes I wonder if you could cum from my bites. Maybe we should try hm?” Agatha said. She left a few firm kisses with her lips before sinking in once again.

“Fuck.” You moaned and whimpered as she sunk into you more and more, pushing you just to your limit.

“There’s no hiding these is there baby?”

You shook your head.

Agatha smiled. “You already look like mine, but I bet you’d like every inch of you to look like mine hm?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good girl” She said, guiding you to the bedroom.

She stripped off your shirt to reveal your bare back and chest.

“Y’know what, I’d better get you to the bed. I know how weak in the knees my bites get you.”

She led you by the wrist and laid you down. Magical binds keeping your hands trapped to your sides. Your legs were spread apart a bit and held down by the ankles.

Agatha straddled you. “Such a helpless little thing. And all mine to play with.”

She moved to start kissing your collar bone. You squeaked as she bit the same spot. She repeated the process on the other side. She couldn’t bite you as hard here, but the noises you were making were still delicious.

She moved to your chest. Sinking into the fleshiest part, steadily applying more pressure until you were moaning and squirming. She soothed the area with her tongue and moved to take a nipple into her mouth.

“Feels so good ma’am, love being yours.” You said breathlessly.

Agatha popped up, “such a little pain slut. I love claiming every inch of you baby.”

She left a handful of marks across both sides of your chest of varying sizes and intensity. You were throbbing between your legs from what her mouth was doing to you.

Agatha moved down to your stomach, which she knew was especially sensitive to her bites. You drew in sharp breaths and gasps as Agatha had her fun. She trailed her hand between your legs and felt your arousal.

“Such a needy little thing. Nobody else gets you worked up like this, do they?” Agatha asked.

“No ma’am, only you.”

“Good girl.”

Finally she was between your thighs. She undid your wrists.

“Be a good girl and play with your nipples for me.” She instructed.

You pinched and pulled and rubbed while she sank her teeth hard into your inner thigh. Unexpectedly, and orgasm washed over you. Agatha watched in awe as your hips bucked against nothing and as you whimpered and moaned for her.

She let you recover and undid the rest of her magic.

“Y’know hon, I was mostly kidding earlier.”

“I can’t help what you do to me.”

“I suppose you can’t. Oh you look so pretty already, sweet girl.” Agatha said as she admired how thr bruises were blooming all over you.

“Not that you aren’t always stunning, but right now, you are so undeniably mine.” She said, wrapping her arms around you and kissing your forehead.

“All yours, always.” You said sleepily.

[ssturniolo]

could u write something where reader is going through a sort of depressive episode where like trader just kinda feels hopeless and stuff and is pushing chris away and so he doesn’t understand why until matt like points it out and so chris then feels bad and comforts reader sorry if this is long😭

Everything’ll be alright

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 - Chris x fem!reader

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 - request <3

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 - mentions of depression, bad mental health, Chris being oblivious, not proofread

Everything in your life has just been going wrong. Or at least it’s felt that way. Simple everyday tasks have grown increasingly difficult to do and every waking moment is it’s own battle. You’ve had no contact with the outside world in who knows how long, not even your own boyfriend. It just seems as though nobody cares and that, along with everything else is slowly destroying you.

Only leaving your bed to use the bathroom and grab another bag of chips that will eventually be thrown to the side uneaten, has been how you’ve been living for awhile now. You’re filled with this overwhelming feeling of despair and it just won’t go away. At war with your own mind, and there doesn’t seem to be a light at the end of this tunnel. Just a dead end.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** **

Chris lays on the couch, scrolling through Instagram while hoping that you’ll answer one of his million texts. He knows you’re pushing him away but he can’t figure out why. What did he do wrong? You’re his first girlfriend and he’s so afraid to loose you but he doesn’t know what’s wrong or what to do.

“Me and Nick are going to McDonald’s if you want to bring y/n,” Matt calls as he grabs his keys off the counter.

“No that’s ok, I don’t think she’d want to” Chris reply’s, not looking up from his phone.

“But I thought she loves McDonald’s? I haven’t heard from her in awhile, how’s she doing?” Matt asks, his voice laced with concern.

“I wouldn’t know” Chris mumbles, clearly hurt.

Every once in awhile you kind of disappear but you’ve never done it for this long, let along not talking to Chris at all.

“Did you guys break up?” Matt asks gently as he sits by Chris on the couch.

“No but she ghosted me” Chris starts, pressing his palms into his eyes. “She’s completely disappeared off of social media, and never answers my texts or calls even when it says she’s active.”

Worry is painted across Matt’s features as he watches his brother fight off tears.

“Chris I think you should go check up on her. Y/n wouldn’t do this without a really good reason and I think she’s really struggling right now. I’ll bring you on the way to McDonald’s ok?”

Chris never thought about that fact you might not be doing well, he was more concerned about you ignoring him.

“Ok, let’s go.”

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** **

You’ve been curled up on your bed, staring at the same spot on your wall for what’s seemed like forever. How long exactly? You have no clue. Your only telling of time was whether there was light peeking through the blinds, or if everything was just swallowed in darkness.

The creak of the door to your room opening startles you out of your dazed state, confused as you hadn’t heard anyone come into your apartment.

“Hey there princess” a familiar voice whispers as he shuts the door behind him.

Chris.

Without another word, he climbs into your bed, snaking his arms around you, holding you close against his chest. And that’s all it took for you to burst into tears, wetting his t-shirt as you cry into his chest.

“I’m trapped Chris, I’m trapped” you manage to cry out in between sobs.

“I don’t know what to do”

“Everything will be alright baby, we’ll figure this out together, I’ve got you” he whispers soothingly into your hair.

There’s a terrible pressure on your chest, you feel everything and nothing at the same time, and your whole life seems to be crumbling down in front of you, but Chris is there. Right besides you through it all just like he’s always been. The world could be falling apart and he’d be there, ready to hold you in his arms and tell you everything will be alright.

Right now, all you need is Chris and he doesn’t plan on leaving anytime soon.

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

Thank you for the request my love 🫶🏻

XOXO - Zoe

Tag-list ⬇️

@dwntwn-strnlo @soleilsturniolos @mbbsgf @gabbylovesreading @0-r-a-y-0 @sturn3g1rl @lvrsparadise @taylorssfilmsss @emssturniolo @ilovemattsturn @nickenthusiast @itsaaliyah2 @thetriplets3 @urfavstromboli

[railingsofsorrow]

summary: based on this scene or in which you can't deny going to a film festival with the resident genius.

pairing: s.r x gn!reader

w.c: 615.

warnings/content: none just fluff.

navi

masterpost

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

“I'm going to a Korean film festival in Georgetown.” Spencer quipped as they finished off the paperwork from the day.

You looked up from your phone as soon as he let out those words. If there's something that irked you to no end was when people interrupted Spencer Reid during his ramblings. Personally? You could hear it all day. Wasn't a problem. But something that pissed you off was when nobody acted excited for the plans he shared with everyone. “A lot of the entries probably aren't subtitled yet. But I can do a simultaneous whisper translation while we watch.” His lips formed that tight-lipped smile known to be his signature. He wasn't expecting anybody to say yes. He's been used to the team's declines to his invitations; it was okay, they didn't share the same interests outside work.

“I'd love to go,” You said more quick than you planned, sticking your phone inside your purse. “It is tonight?”

Penelope and Derek shared a compliance glance that wasn't unnoticed by Aaron, who started dispersing them all to leave to get some rest for the night. Emily could dare say he was smiling a bit as Spencer shared the details of the event with you. JJ smirked behind Spencer and you, mouthing a you seeing this? to Emily, who tried to steal a stealth glance at them as they walked to the elevator before everyone else.

“Would you really?” Spencer halted in your way to the parking lot. “You didn't just say that out of politeness? Cause if you did, then it's fine, we don't have to—”

Out of politeness? That would be the most precious time you'd spend in your boring nightlife.

You might not understand Korean at all, but you certainly didn't mind him whispering in your ear the whole night.

“I'd love to spent time with you. And no, I wasn't just being polite.” You cracked an awkward smile when the realization that you talk too much came. “I mean, I've heard about this festival, I just never��� You mentioned it and I—” You groaned, shifting in your feet. “I'm sorry, if you don't want me to go—”

“What? No!” Spencer takes a few steps towards you with widened eyes. “I don't— That's not what I meant. I'd very much like for you to come with me. I just don't want you to feel pressured to do it because... no one else wanted to come.”

“Oh.” You blink up at him, nodding shortly. Embarrassment dying down but the blush in your cheeks was still present given his proximity. “Okay. It is alright if I accompany you then?”

“More than alright.” He let it slip, causing your smile to widen. He cleaned his throat, shifting in his feet as he focused his full attention on his shoes. “So,” He mustered the courage to look up and meet your eyes. They have something like a fond gaze going on, he could be wrong, it was dark and you were in the middle of the parking lot, not much to illuminate your features. “Shall we?”

You agree with a happy skip to your step, walking by his side. You requested for him to tell you a little bit about the Korean culture and what you should be prepared to see there. His rambling making you feel a warmth in your chest.

“You don't mind translating it to me, do you?” You said after a moment of silence between you both, casting him a timid quirk of lips. “I haven't the faintest idea about the language, although it's interesting.”

Spencer beamed at you, you could see a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. “No, no, I don't mind.”

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

A/N: take ME to a korean filme festival Spencer, i dare you. (I will kiss you)

[firegirl888101]

Insatiable Madness (9)

|Sagau Yandere Fatui Harbingers x Reader|

I wonder what will happen when you have to leave for college? Will you be able to keep afloat under the pressure?

Reader is Gender Neutral!

It was the next morning.

You'd woken up with a slightly damp face. When you grabbed the things you needed and limped to your bathroom, you could clearly see you'd been crying the entire night.

'Oh well, it's not like anyone will see your face.'

.

.

That's what you would have thought if you weren't being held hostage. You could feel eyes trailing your form, despite nobody watching you. Is this paranoia? Anxiety? You couldn't quite place the feeling.

You loathed your situation, you despised it.

How could anyone be so heartless? You couldn't understand, even when you researched all the harbinger's pasts. Sure, they went through horrible situations no person should ever go through. But did this excuse their behaviour towards other people?

Of course not.

You began brushing your teeth like usual, watching the dampness in your cheeks begin to dry in the mirror. All of a sudden, you heard loud footsteps ascending towards your current location in the house.

Fear coursed through your veins.

They must have heard you limp clumsily to the bathroom after waking up. What do you do? The last time you tried to hide in the bathroom from them they tore down the door and beat you senseless! Well, that was just Scaramouche. But you didn't doubt that it would happen once more.

Speaking of the previous beating, you felt a lot better. The pain in your legs had gotten a bit better, everywhere else was just about the same. You figured a couple more days rest would heal you, the only problem was you would never be able to rest with these harbingers in your house!

You heard a light knock on the door, the knock echoing into your ears as you feel your heart drop to the floor.

You walk to the door with shaky legs and put your hand around the doorknob. Your intention was to open the door and greet the person on the other side with a sarcastic greeting, not to carress the damn handle!

You couldn't help it though. You kept getting flashbacks of hiding in that public bathroom at the restaurant. What would make this whole situation worse is if the harbinger behind the door were to be Scaramouche of all people.

You really didn't want that.

"I know you're in there! Archons, please let me in. I've been dying for a piss!" A voice called out from behind the door, knocking slightly harder to imply how desperate the male voice was.

Is that... Childe? You never thought you'd hear Griffin Burns' voice this early in the morning.

"...Just a minute." You said quietly, hoping he heard from outside the room. If he didn't, you didn't think you'd grow the balls to repeat yourself.

Grabbing your brush from inside a cupboard, you unlocked the door and come face to face with Childe hunched down with a face of panic and desperation.

"Thank you, wait there I need to speak with you after!" He said very fast, running into the room and shutting the door in a flash.

Well, that just happened.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Childe burst through the bathroom door with a satisfied smile. He smiled wider when realising you actually did wait for him.

The two of you walked and sat down on the stairs, since you declined his offer of talking in your bedroom. You scolded him for even suggesting such a thing, reminding him that it was the only room in the entire house that was off-limits.

"So... How are you feeling this morning?" He hesitantly asked, eyeing you.

"I'm alive, never thought I'd wake up this morning to be honest." You answered him honestly, rolling your eyes slightly.

Childe gave a guilty expression as a reply.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Is he? No way, surely not. He's a Fatui Harbinger, a bloodthirsty and unstable man who reeks of testosterone. There is no way in hell he's guilty about massacring your entire family.

"If you're trying to make me feel guilty about making you apologise due to yesterday, please don't."

"Ahaha... I can assure you that's not my intention." He sweated slightly. "Rather, I have something to confess."

"Confess?"

What on earth could he possibly want to confess first thing in the morning? You thought, a confused expression on your face.

Childe looked like he was fighting with himself as he opened his mouth to explain further. He closed it soon after and stayed quiet with thoughtful eyes. He seemed to be thinking about something...

---

"I'll be making my leave as well." Capitano broke the ongoing silence.

The Harbingers had been sitting at the dinner table, contemplating what to do once Y/N had left.

"You are required to stand to your post, Il Capitano." Pierro gave the captain a nasty look.

The Captain hesitated, however, after pausing he sat in the seat Y/N had once sat in themself.

"I should have known they weren't alone. Damn it, it seems obvious now. Who would dine at a restaurant by themself?" Dottore frowned with an impatient sigh.

"Could you even call that greasy place a restaurant?" Pantalone questioned the doctor.

"That is not the issue here." Dottore pointed at the banker, whom gave him a serene smile in return.

"This is rather worrying, it seems their hate for us is more justified than we thought."

"No shit." Scaramouche reentered the room, his arms folded as he sat down in his chair from before.

"And where did you go for that short period of time?" Arlecchino gave the puppet a dirty glance.

"I went to make sure they weren't trying to leave the house when I saw them leave this room." He explained with sharp eyes.

"You morons truly are easy to escape from. They could have escaped at any point in time while you all were lounging around the house."

"Balladeer, this is not the point of conversation right now." Columbina smiled at him, her eyebrows clearly showing she wasn't amused.

"She's right." Childe spoke for the first time since he heard the devastating news.

He felt guilty, incredibly guilty. He himself knows what it's like to be in the comfort and care of their family. To hear that he's the main reason why they were slaughtered? He felt ashamed. He knew the others wouldn't feel as much guilt as he did, if they could even express guilt at the current situation.

He was the one to suggest such an action as he got impatient, and felt bloodthirsty. Looking back on the past now, it felt very rushed. Didn't you say it yourself? "You killed my family just to 'take me away from my world'!?"

Why didn't he question you further? Why didn't he just wait for fuck's sake. His mindless suggestion might have just ruined this entire mission - might have ruined any possible information or friendship from you.

But, what if you never found out? What if you would always think it was a collective decision? You're The Decider, one whom decides what the traveller does and how they do it.

You've met him in Liyue! You know he'd never suggest to kill a family, considering he never fails to bring his own into the conversation...

Let's hope the other Harbingers also stay silent.

"What are we going to do about the whole 'being stuck here situation'? The Decider is right, we can't just stay in their house." Signora shook her head.

"Well, you also heard them explain how Teyvat's resources don't exist here. I won't be able to recreate the machine no matter how hard I focus." Dottore shrugged.

"If only I'd been entrusted by The Tsaritsa." Sandrone rolled her eyes. "I'm sure I'd have been able to make a far more efficient machine without having to use organic sources."

"And what would you know about my machine?" Dottore challenged her, his eyebrow raised.

"Well, for one, you're clones aren't very... aware of spies in your laboratory." She smirked at the doctor. "I am fully aware of your experimentations with the Cecilia. Not to mention how they were a key part of your invention."

"I should kill you for knowing this."

"And yet you can't."

"Will you two stop your squabbling? You've been arguing since we arrived in this world." Pierro ordered the two, glaring at their behaviour.

This is going to be a long and boring meeting like usual. Childe thought, groaning to himself.

---

"Nevermind, what's important right now is you do what you should've done last night." Childe shook his head, a small yet noticeable smile on his face.

"And that is?"

"You'll know once you come downstairs."

The second you reached the bottom of the stars, an expression of horror you couldn't hide showed on your face.

"What the fuck have you done to my living room!? Where did you get all of this!?" You screamed, pointing at the mattresses and duvets sprawled across the small room.

"Well, we didn't know where to sleep." Childe shrugged, standing next to you and sighing when noticing Dottore was watching a surgical channel.

"My, oh my, why would she choose to have that in her body?" Dottore mumbled to himself, taking notes on his small notepad.

"What's wrong with you? The morning has just started." Arlecchino glared, purposefully covering the televison with her hand from her vision.

"I'm sorry." You coughed, looking at all the Harbingers strangely. "You didn't know where to sleep, and decided taking apart my sofa and raiding my cupboards was the right decision?"

"We didn't want to wake you up. Especially since you'd been crying the whole night." Columbina pointed out, snuggling into the blankets around her.

"How did you--"

"Some of us don't sleep." Scaramouche hissed at you. "You were very loud."

"I apologise, I can't believe I forgot to assign beds." You facepalmed, partially to hide your face from the harbingers and partially to reflect.

"There's a guest room with a double bed one or two of you could have slept in, you should have knocked on my bedroom door!"

"Arguably, you did specify not to approach your bedroom." Pierro coughed into his hand.

For a good reason, which will save you a lot of embarrassment. But he nor the rest of the harbingers need to know that.

"Whatever." You yawned, snatching the TV remote from Dottore's side. "I'll be switching to the news since nobody is enjoying the current channel except you, Dottore."

"Damn it."

You swapped the channel, sitting as best you can on the hard sofa (still without it's pillows) with a bored expression.

That boredom didn't last long though, because on the daily news channel you liked to watch you saw your own face staring back at you with the words 'Missing' above your picture.

"Oh, what the fu--"

Hello everyone, View 9 is finally done! I was hoping I would be able to make it longer, but I realised if I kept going this would be two views worth and I don't want to make it too long. I think this will be the turning point now, Yandere scenes will begin to show more. Characters from here on may not react to certain situations in which they normally would. This is because of their change in attitudes and because I can't write very well and am doing this for fun :,)

Please don't expect too many happy, nice and generally fluffy scenes.

This is Yandere, a genre which should never, under any circumstance be considered normal. It's abusive, unhealthy and leads to a lot of victims facing awful conditions which they never should or ever have to endure no matter who they are.

This is fiction that I'm writing, meaning it's all taken light-heartedly IN A FICTIONAL SENSE.

If anyone, by chance, is currently in conditions where a loved-one or yourself has suddenly become distant and/or being hurt when away from eyes please get help. Talk to them, or if it's you, talk to someone you know you can trust.

If you can't talk to anyone, find authorities who can help you. Call 999, as it is in the U.K, or your local emergency service. They will always help you, and will never deny your rights or freedom.

Thanks for reading this, I hope all who's reading knows this information already, but I thought I'd include it since who knows when it comes to where you are in the world and whether your education programs taught critical information like this.

✨Elusive✨ Taglist!:

@valeriele3 @pale-value @pix-stuff @yumi-genshin-writer @yuii-v @itz-luna @annoying-mary @etherisy @khalhaimdad @haikyuusboringassmanager @magica-ren @sweatyexpertdeputyduck @booksandteaplusart @9140 @whatamidoing89 @raesleepyhead @nasidibakar @shikanosn @purpleamethystsblog @chihawari @esthelily @stuffyfrenchflowers @conspicuous-mayonnaise @sielt @katsumikumo @greyhoundwires707 @carminerin @raidendeeznuts123 @angelofdarkness2 @shellofthewell @ginnxy-galaxy @clara-maddenlin @bk-4-trash-fire @uniqaal @tnsophiaonly @vianitry @dottoreandcolumbinaslovechild @melou008 @lsleepysimpl @steadybreadbluebird @thebigkessydisaster @eliciana @kamit-frog @twst-kumi @idk098 @kurayamioterasu @mmeatt

Quick Reminder Here! If you no longer want to be on the taglist that's completely fine; I take no offence whatsoever so please don't hesitate to tell me. ^^

[ronance4everbrainrot]

Moooore descendants 4 incorrect quotes with Glassheart/CharmingHeart (they back)

(and other ships)

Red: Sometimes I get so caught up on being gay that I forget I’m actually bi.

(Girl. Same)

---

Maddox: Man, I’m gonna get fat if you keep feeding me all these chips and junk!

Red: I’M NOT! I was eating them and you took them.

Maddox: You said I should try some!

Red: I said they were good.

Maddox: That’s not how I heard it.

(MADDOX! HIIIII! SOME LOVE FOR YOU TOO BUDDY!)

---

Red: Tomorrow’s the Cooking Contest. Maddox always tells me one thing every year. They say, “You might win if you’d stop eating your entry!” But how would I know whether it’s an award-winning dish without tasting it first? This may be a problem humanity will have to grapple with for eternity.

(AU. Red is a good cook)

---

Chloe: So how’s the food Red made?

Cinderella: It's great! Compliments to them.

Chloe: *goes to the kitchen*

Chloe: You're adorable.

Red: *blushes*

(again. Red is a good cook. She invites the Charmings for dinner and then asks them for their blessing when Chloe leaves)

---

Chad: we could make a boys club!

Maddox: Im non-binary.

Chad:

Chad: Anti-girls club.

(Slay. Also can't decide if Maddox should be green or purple. Maybe even orange but I chose green for now. Will change later if I'm in the mood)

---

Red: Can you PLEASE peer pressure me into doing my project?

Chloe: Do it or you're straight.

Red: I said peer pressure, NOT THREATEN!

(That's too far, Chloe! Are you mad?!)

---

Chloe: Operation no more distractions is a go!

*not even 10 seconds later*

Chloe: Oh, look! A butterfly!

(She's either laser focused or cannot concentrate at all)

---

Red: *clicks pen*

Maddox: *clicks pen in response*

Queen of Hearts: Stop that.

Red: Stop what?

Queen of Hearts: You’re talking about me in Morse code!

Red: Yes, that’s what we doing. In our very limited time, we took a class on a very outdated, very unnecessary form of communication just so we could talk about you in front of you. Congrats, you figured us out!

*later*

Red, to Chloe: That’s actually exactly what we were doing.

(I'm surprised you kept your Head. And they absolutely did learn that because they had nothing else they could do)

---

Chloe: Come on, Chad. Nobody actually believes that Red is in love with me.

Chad, to The Squad: Raise your hand if you think that Red is helplessly in love with Chloe.

*Everyone raises their hand*

Chloe: Red, put your hand down.

(*raises hand* what more evidence do you need??)

---

Chloe: The salary of a clown is 51,000 dollars.

Chloe, gesturing to Chad and Red fighting: And yet these idiots do it daily, and for free!

---

Red: When I first got my autism diagnosis, my first thought was “woah… it’s canon” and I think that maybe thoughts like that is why Chloe made me get tested.

(It is canon now. Headcanon)

---

Chloe: Anything else?

Red: Yeah. Stay away from me!

Chloe: Alright. See you in the room we share

(Literally them. Canon. can also be switched)

---

Queen of Hearts: If looking good was a crime, you’d be a law abiding citizen.

(rather that and not off with my head)

---

Queen of Hearts: We are gathered here today because someone- *glares at Red’s coffin* -couldn’t stay alive!

(Oop-. Damn. She would care more tho. I think..)

---

Queen of Hearts: So you're looking for information on this thing, huh? Well, I feel like it must be from far away.

Mal: What makes you say that?

Queen of Hearts: If it's something even I don't know about, then I'm sure nobody else must have a clue. So it's gotta be from some faraway place. Impeccable reasoning, isn't it?

Mal: Your Majesty.. You don't have a clue about this thing, do you?

Queen of Hearts: *screams in anger*

(Just a meeting between two Queens ✨. Canon

---

Queen of Hearts: Standing next to sunflowers always makes me feel weak like ‘look at this fucking flower. This flower is taller than I am. This flower is winning and I’m losing.’

Maddox: Wow, you are not ready to hear about trees.

(ssSSHHhhH. Not so loud. Don't want you to lose your head. Canon tho)

---

Red: I’m terrible at expressing myself.

Uma: Don’t worry, actions speak louder than words.

Red: Yes, but my actions are also bad.

(Girl same. Getting advice from the principal ✨ she probably did something 👀)

---

Queen of Hearts: God has let me live another day and I'm going to make it everyone's problem.

(She for real does make it everyone's problem)

---

Hope you liked it!

Wanted to add more but then it would have been too long.

So the next one has more of the OGs

Byeeee

[lilyhyperfixates]

Anthony and his wife are totally different, having an argument with different ideas (maybe she has the same personality as eloise). (but nothing too heavy, probably something funny and cute)

just a lil drabble, hope you like it!

“No, I absolutely agree.” You tell Eloise. The two of you were talking about Lady Whistledowns latest publication, theorizing about who she may be. “She must be a member of the ton, how else would she hear that much gossip?”

Eloise and you got along very well, something Anthony was very happy about. You became Viscountess Bridgerton a little over a year ago, and your entire marriage has been pure bliss. In truth you could see a lot of yourself in Eloise, recognizing the rebellious streak she has. You yourself had nod been keen on the idea of marriage before you met Anthony.

“Her publishings are pure speculation, a gossip monger.” Eloise exclaims. She has been on a hunt to find out who the anonymous writer for the entire season. “I certainly don’t agree with what she publishes, only spreading shame.” You agree before taking a sip of your tea.

The door to the sitting room opens and Anthony appears in the doorway. Eloise begins to speak again but you silently signal for her to stop. You knew your husband wasn’t going to be happy about you speaking with his sister on such topics, or encouraging her search for the writers identity.

Anthony presses a kiss to your forehead and sits down next to you on the sofa. “What were you speaking about? Do not stop your conversation on my account.” He says.

“Nothing at all dearest, lady’s talk.” You assure him while shooting a sly wink to Eloise. “Yes, nothing for you to know about brother.” She almost sighs out, annoyed at her brother interrupting your conversation.

Anthony raises an eyebrow and already knows what the conversation had been about. You got along well, were a lot alike. But maybe a bit too much. “I do not hope you are encouraging Eloise in her search of Lady Whistledown.” He tells you, a bit frustrated to have to tell you yet again.

You had fought about this topic before, but you did not see the harm in the young girl doing something she clearly enjoyed and wasn’t harming anyone. “Eloise, would you excuse us? It seems your brother and I have something to talk about.” You ask the girl, ignoring Anthony’s question.

She nods in answer to your question and exits the sitting room swiftly. You turn to Anthony and frown a bit. “Do we really have to argue on this again? We clearly do not agree on this subject.”

“Eloise should spend her time in a more proper manner. Finding a suitable husband for example, it is your responsibility to guide her into doing as such.” Anthony states as pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

You scoff. “And you believe I am not doing my best? Eloise is a young lady full of fire and fervor. I believe she will find a husband when she feels ready to, we should not pressure her into marriage if she does not feel ready.” The grip on your teacup gets a bit tighter as you feel quite passionately on this subject.

It is your belief that nobody should get married under pressure. Your marriage with Anthony hadn’t been pressured and it turned out very happy.

“I am just saying, she has time. It does not harm anyone that she wants to know who Lady Whistledown is.” You continue, softening your tone a bit to try to convince Anthony.

Your husband sighs and leans back into the sofa. “I know, I am only afraid she will not find a suitable husband in time. That she will become undesirable as time goes on. I only want the best for her.”

“I know you do, but you do not have to hold her back in order to do so my love.” Your tone remains soft and gentle. Anthony nods and pulls you into him a bit. “You’re doing great as a brother Anthony. Do not worry.” You whisper to him.

Everything was going to be alright, and now Anthony realizes that as well.

[sukunasweetheart]

This is just a quick rambling i did mostly at like 4am but just a warning for dark content, murder and manipulation 🤞🤞🤞

Heian era sukuna x op reader who isnt equal to his strength, but close enough to it that he pardons your weakness and keeps you at an arm's length distance bc youre not strong enough for him to belong to you, but youre also too precious to kill, or to belong to someone else.

Youre fun. Youre a pretty thing to look at, and to pleasure himself with. Above all that, youre just like him, thinking only of yourself and plainly disregarding everything else... messing around with you comes only second best to dining on human flesh whenever he's in need of some rich entertainment. And he really believed you'd remain the same, strong/unrelenting/selfish, not by his side per se, but around him, forever.

Until he witnesses you showing a strange interest in someone else... a powerless nobody. An insignificant human man.

That's not right. That's not like you. You should be digging your heel into the man's face from above. You should kill him on the spot. Why are you gazing at him like that instead?

He leaves you be. It must be just a temporary infatuation. Everybody needs a new plaything once in a while, right? And he couldn't care less about what you get up to in your spare time, anyway.

Sukuna turns a blind eye to it for a period of time... and he couldn't have made a bigger mistake. Your little boytoy lasts too long for his liking, and he eventually wants to interfere, to question you on it.

He shows up to where you are, and you're sitting next to the man as if he deserves to even meet you eye-to-eye like that, being such a worthless existence.

He doesn't like it. The way you protectively throw a hand over the vermin behind you. He doesn't like it at all. He considers doing the job for you, to kill him without hesitation, but something stops him from doing so. Maybe it's because he doesn't want to see you get emotional over another's death. The slightest sliver of a chance that it could trigger you to fight sukuna in the name of a third party, other than yourself makes him feel disgusted. That's not what he wants.

He'll drag you away from that insect, instead. He'll remind you of your status, of what kind of man suits you better, suits you best. He'll snip off this growing bud before it blooms.

Sukuna will mock you for getting infatuated with such a lowly being. But you seem shameless. And that irks him. As much as he wants to point out that you're changing, he doesn't, because he knows something is changing in him, too. He shouldn't care this much for a woman like you. If you've displeased him, he should've just killed both you and that man on the spot. But here he is, trying to convince you to stray away from your boytoy.

"But i love him. And he belongs wholly to me. I can see that in his eyes, when i speak to him. He wants to belong to me."

Love? A silly thing. Oh, but maybe that's what sukuna himself is doing to you right now. Loving you. This won't do. Now that he's realised, it's only more reason for him to separate you from the lowlife.

He spends months with you, having you attached to his hip at all times. Not letting you get a glimpse of your little plaything for a while. He pulls on your strings, and seduces you, making sure to confuse and muddle up your feelings, on who you should direct your affection towards. There is only one correct answer.

And when he feels like you're ready, just trained enough to act within his predictions, he brings you over to meet that man once again. To make you kill him with your own hands. Press on his windpipe and watch the life drain out his eyes. Cast away whatever interest you had in him prior.

The man is begging you for mercy, your hands wrapped around his throat, sukuna holding his weak, flimsy body up. His other pair of hands are guiding yours, but not applying any extra pressure. He wants you to do it with your own strength, alone. But he sees you hesitating. It pushes sukuna over the edge, and he does something unthinkable, impulsive.

He makes a promise. A binding vow, no less.

"Kill this man, and I'll be yours forever. Suffocate him to death, and I'll belong to you, the way you belong to me."

You want someone to possess-- and have whole to yourself? You want someone to desire it? Desire you? He'll take that spot. He can fulfill that for you. Nobody but him.

And he continues whispering sweet nothings into your ear from behind, leaving a couple of kisses down your neck, every action coaxing you to grip his throat tighter.

Sukuna groans when eventually the man takes his last breath, with tears in his lifeless eyes, regretful of having ever associated with you. Your hands are steady, and you don't show signs of guilt. You've taken countless lives before. But this one has significant meaning. Marking the beginning of something more important between you and sukuna.

The vow is effective immediately. Something in sukuna is stirring up his guts, but in a pleasantly exciting way. Heat gathers in his lower abdomen, and he drops the now useless body to embrace you instead, and take your lips in his.

This feeling is wonderful. To love, and be loved. You strangled someone dear to you for him, because you wanted him more, and sukuna couldn't be happier.

[coff-in]

YES! I SEE YOU’RE DOING AND TAKING REQS AGAIN!!!

Reader who is constantly zoning out 25/8 head cannons. Doesn’t matter if they’re eating, drinking, bathing, walking or working; they’re always daydreaming in their head. Constantly running into things or tripping because they’re too preoccupied in their head. They daydream a lot to where sometimes they reenact their thoughts or speak to nobody in particular. Their S/O always has to bring them back or navigate them so they don’t accidentally hurt themselves.

Reader can be G/N, or female if it’s necessary for a gender. I’d like Andrew to be the S/O, but you can throw Ashley in the mix too (separately or together) if you want. I won’t throw shade.

TYYYYY!!!!

notes from coff-in: i've been meaning to answer the asks in my inbox for weeks now, but every time i tell myself 'i should answer asks' i suddenly find myself not doing it. like the more i think about doing something the longer it takes for me to do it. eventually i just sort of stop thinking about it and get focused on other work and then open my inbox and go 'yeah i'll answer these now :)' like i haven't been gone for a month or so. is this normal? the same thing happens when i think about soaking my mushroom log or taking my pills or even when i was younger and had to wear my retainer, i think 'i'll do it later' and then i never do it. i'll think 'i should do it sometime today' and then i never do it. why do i do that? sorry about that, in other news: i have started playing roblox and i like sebastian solace from pressure. big fish :3

[gender neutral] reader-insert

[reader] is so me fr fr. 'maladaptive daydreaming' you mean... uh normal behavior... gottem. i appreciate that you said 's/o' because i've been meaning to write for julia for a while (hussies unite or smth).

andrew would find [reader]'s daydreaming endearing, but would see it as a hassle to deal with often. he's constantly nudging you and gently shaking you to get your attention. he'd also tease you about running into objects and scold you for not paying attention. protective instincts kinda kick in for him :') he does wish you paid more attention to your surroundings and school ("i'm not going to be able to help you with your homework forever," he tells you while doing your homework)

ashley would definitely be annoyed. you should be paying attention to her! she's YOUR girlfriend, asshole! you would need to repeatedly (hourly, even) tell her that you do love her, you are trying to pay attention to her, etc etc. i don't think a maladaptive daydreamer would pair all too well with ashley. maybe.... she would feel comforted that you sorta act the same with others, spaced out and unfocused, but there's always that worry in her that someone else will snap you out of your haze and take your attention away. hang out with ashley, she's just a girl who's fun and whimsical, give her all your attention. do it. DO IT-- (she will laugh at you if you trip on something)

julia :3 i think julia wouldn't mind [reader] constantly zoning out. julia is (as far as we've seen, mind you!!) such a sweet and gentle girl, i honestly think you and her would work out very well. she's gemtly holding your arm or hand and swerving you away from poles and potholes. she taps you so you can focus on your work and if you wanna veg out next to her, she doesn't mind that. love that emo girl

----

coff-in

is it a certified coff-in post if i don't rant/vent in the opening notes? anyways please ask me about my opinions on pressure, it's infecting my brain :3

[swanshapedheart]

Poorlittlekoi’s statement

Disclaimer. I, the poster, am not Koi

I am someone putting her thoughts and response to her situation into the public as I was encouraged to do so. I feel it is also necessary to bring this up as well.

I do not want to be affiliated with controversy any further.

——————————————————-

“this whole situation has messed with my head to the point where i cant even send a text to most people without worrying they are gonna leak it or use it against me in the future,, svlvnsore was just bored and found me really annoying shown in screenshot one…. not only that they also called me out for heavily referencing or tracing when they reposted an artpiece thats doing the same thing. Svlvn said they are on my ass because i didnt credit who i referenced, when the person they reposted didnt do the same either proof in screenshot two three and four. Another thing i caught on to is that they SPECIFICALLY said they didnt care that i self harmed or did horrible things to myself when they posted about me. i have anxiety, i overthink! of course im going to do bad things to myself, im mentally unwell. proof in screenshot 5… and for screenshot 6, this is only an assumption, but saying that svlvn "didnt know" is something that really throws me off. when someone makes a callout post on someone else, there will OBVIOUSLY be harassment. thats just my thought, i feel like they knew what they were doing since him and his bf arent very good people either. especially holding onto old dms and gathering them up to use it against me, when they could have handled the situation privately with me, rather than hide it behind my back.

all of this could have been prevented if they handled it differently, and that goes for me as well.

im fully aware im in the wrong, but these people are wrong in some places too. and i want people to realize that.

many artists in tcc trace, reference, all the time. i dont understand why im slandered for heavily referencing something, not tracing. theres proof of an artist doing this FROM THE ORIGINAL ARTIST BTW in my dms right now but i dont get them involved

am i handling this situation immaturely? maybe, but arent they doing the same by harassing me? absolutely.

when it comes to someone being racist/homophobic, people feel the need to harass this person to make them feel worse about what they did. this isnt how you handle a situation. harassing someone to the point they attempt suicide is just as bad as what i did, possibly even worse.

now i have recover slowly until i have the chance to even feel comfortable with myself again. i understand what i said and did was wrong, and im sitting here attempting to change and apologize to the people ive offended and hurt, but throwing that apology under the rug and making it seem like im guilt tripping is ridiculous.

so they cant say i didnt try to apologize, but nobody is guaranteed to accept my apology and thats okay. but putting it out there as if im guilt tripping when im giving reasons why i said it is not even giving me a chance to change

when it comes to growing up with a HUGE racist family, these words and beliefs become apart of my vocabulary and thoughts. its very hard to change that especially when i was always told "its just a word" and i hear it daily! growing up with these slurs has become so normal for me to say it just slips out with no worry, but ofc im seen as guilt tripping when i say this.

its different for each person, i saw a comment saying they grew up in a southern family and they dont say it, but thats them, not me.

people at school and during family events would peer pressure me into saying this slurs multiple times because they found it "funny." i slowly believed that as well.

i was a young teen being taught the wrong things, and seeing other people in tcc say it made me feel like i should say it as well to fit in and be edgy, since thats what the community is like

this situation is another lesson for me to learn, but other people in it need to learn that harassing someone isnt okay, either. especially when im trying to change, it doesnt make it any easier.”

[litnerdwrites]

So, about Morrigan...

We all know that Morrigan's life was spent with others lording power over her, her body and her autonomy. When she tried to regain power and control over her own fate and body by sleeping with Cassian, she wound up tortured and brutalised at the boarder of the Autumn court, while the first person to find her, Eris, left her there. I don't like Morrigan either, but nobody should have to go through something like that, least of all at the hands of their own parents.

However, we see later in ACOFAS, that Mor's father still holds a lot of power over her.

The fact her father still holds this kind of power over her is a problem to her. So what does she do? Instead of working harder to overcome her trauma, talking about it, trying to face her fears, or doing anything else productive, she decides to become just as bad.

Mor lords power over Nesta, knowing Feyre and Cassian would chose their and their court over Nesta in a heart beat. Instead of empowering Feyre by encouraging her to hash things out with Nesta and take the first step to rebuilding that relationship, or telling Cassian not to disrespect Nesta's boundaries (the way males constantly disrespected her own boundaries), Mor decides to go on a power trip, by helping to isolate Nesta.

She constantly insults Nesta at every opportunity, getting off on the power she holds over her, despite the trauma and pain Nesta's gone through. During her first dinner with them, Nesta refuses their (unreasonable) request (felt more like a demand imo) to share her story at the HL meeting, and leaves the room before strangers who, best case scenario, don't give a shit about her, or worst case scenario, despise her, can peer pressure her into it.

It's been insinuated more than once that the IC doesn't know the whole truth about what transpired between Morrigan and Eris. Cassian, in silver flames, called Eris a 'good male' but also a 'coward' trapped by terrible circumstances (which is another topic I'd like to discuss later on), despite knowing what happened to Mor. It's becoming clear that one of them, or both of them, are lying about what happened. Which, personally, I think is fair, to some extent. Mor is under no obligation to share the truth in it's entirety with anybody if she doesn't want to.

(Although letting them believe a selective truth that paints Eris as a villain and letting her family insult him if that's not the case is so fucked up of her to do, and yet so on brand).

However, one would think that, because of this, Morrigan, of all characters, would understand not wanting to talk about your traumas, much less in front of an audience. Especially given the prejudices between humans & fae, Beron's general disposition, and the NC being disliked by most of the other courts, it seems obvious Nesta wouldn't want to talk to them at all, much less share something so deeply traumatising.

Instead, she passes Feyre a bottle of wine, as if she's the one being the most inconvenienced by Nesta's trauma and her response to it. She does the same in ACOSF, deciding that Nesta should be trapped in the CON while taking immense pleasure in the torture Nesta's going through. She even gloats about it to Nesta when coming to see Nesta being humiliated in Illyria.

Mor has suffered immensely, but as I mentioned in my previous post, trauma is an explanation for cruel behaviour, not an excuse. Much like Nesta, while Mor's actions may, to some extent, be explained by trauma, it doesn't excuse them. It should open a door to empathy and understanding.

Perhap's Nesta's human values, being somewhat similar to the values of the CON, may contribute to Mor associating her with her father. Or perhaps she wanted to feel powerful by protecting Feyre from horrible family the way she wished someone had protected her. Perhaps, in taking away Feyre's agency and power over her own forgiveness and relationship with her sisters, Mor was able to feel powerful. It's possible she see's Keir in her, which may be why Mor feels Nesta would 'thrive' in the CON.

Instead of stepping into her own power by facing her abusers, she faces other victims, takes power away from her own friends, and lords it over other victims. She takes power and agency from her friends, and for all she tells Feyre to stay out of the situation between Elain and Lucien, she continually inserts herself into the situation between Nesta and Feyre.

Mor used to hold power over Cassian and Azriel by using Cassian as a buffer between Az and her, knowing they both would do whatever she asked, pretty much. Now, she now lords power over Nesta and actively helps to isolate her, while also flaunting her relationships with Feyre and Cassian in order to hurt Nesta, knowing that Cassian and Feyre would let it happen without a care in the world. (I mean, what else do you call that scene at solstice where Mor and Cassian happily exchanged lingerie in front of her, while Feyre herself didn't even get Nesta a gift, after forcing her to come to solstice against her will).

TLDR: Mor's on a power trip because she unfairly associates Nesta with her father for no reason and uses it as an excuse to be almost as bad as Kier to Nesta. The cycle of abuse at it's finest people.

(Also, does anyone else come to post, intending for it to be short and sweet, only to end up going on a long ass tangent and writing a whole essay? Cause I do that. IDK how to stop though😭)

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Summer 2020 - The Hard Deck

Chapter 8 Part 1 of You Are My Soulmate

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader

Description: Two months. Sometimes you can't believe you've already been dating Bradley Bradshaw, the most perfect man you've ever met and your soulmate, for that long. But with the pressures of being officers in the Navy and everything your jobs entail, you haven't taken your relationship to the next step. When a night at The Hard Deck has you seeing green, you decide enough is enough. Bradley is your soulmate and you're going to make sure he knows just how much you love him.

Disclaimers: Misogynistic speech. Mentioned Homosexual Relationships. Angst. Flagrant disregard for protocols or Authority. Angst. Anguish.

This content presented in this story is for audiences age 18 and over only. MINORS DNI. I will not be accepting tag-list requests from Blank or Ageless Blogs for this story.

Warnings: Female!Reader

Word Count: 4051

A/N: Hiya lovelies! I'm back with yet another chapter of YAMS! My muse sort of went into hibernation between March and now, but never fear, this fic is not on hiatus! I hope you all love this chapter as much as I do!

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted Here!

My Masterlist

Previous Part | Series Masterlist | Next Part

Tinkerbell

It’s been only a little under a year since you came to North Island. So much has changed over that time. The biggest change? Finding Bradley Bradshaw. You can’t believe you once wished anyone else could be your soulmate. Now, you’re not sure you could wish for anyone else. It feels like your entire outlook on life has changed, because you’re not sure you could go back to the person who wasn’t quickly falling in love with their soulmate.

Bradley Bradshaw is different now, too. When he’s not on base, he’s sweet and kind, considerate in a way you’d agreed he wouldn’t be when you were on duty. A part of the reason why is because nobody on base (except your best friends) knows that Bradley Bradshaw is your soulmate. Neither of you is in a rush to put a label on what you are either. Jake and Javy have both asked you, repeatedly, whether you're together, but you can’t tell them not when you’re not sure what is going on between you and your soulmate. After your contentious first few months at North Island, you’re a little afraid to ask Bradley, as well. What if that question makes everything devolve between the two of you? What if you go back to the fighting? You’re not sure you can go back to how it used to be between the two of you, with tension rising in the air between you. You think Bradley feels the same as you do. You hope he does. While you can still see the disbelief on his face sometimes when you kiss him, like he can’t believe he’s yours, you’re still not sure.

The rumor mill around North Island hasn’t helped anything. It’s obvious the newest Top Gun class has heard the rumors of the last few months. It should be a blessing they haven’t focused on the events leading up to Hawk’s inquiry and its aftermath. Instead, they’ve chosen to focus on what is going on (or may be going on) between you and Bradley. No doubt they’ve heard from Calypso, who was as gossipy as could be, before coming to North Island. You’ve witnessed it yourself, how the LTJG gossip network works. How else would news of the great Maverick’s latest brush with the Admiralty become the next talked about thing when you’re on board a ship for months at a time? Now every interaction you have with the Dagger Squadron is examined with a fine-toothed comb when superior officers aren’t present. You’ve heard some truly ridiculous things at this point, just by walking past the lounge.

“Have you seen how Tinkerbell is with Phoenix and Bob? I’m pretty sure she’s fucking both of them in addition to Bradshaw. The question is if they know or if she’s cheating on each of them with the others?”

As if that wasn’t ridiculous enough, it seems like you’re rumored to be romantically linked to almost every Dagger you speak to.

“Okay, but have you seen how she acts with Coyote and Hangman? If she gets any closer to them when they’re off duty, she’d be on top of them.”

“I bet you 50, she is!”

“I’d take that bet, but Hangy’s too buttoned up for that!”

If only it were just the Dagger Squad you’ve been rumored to be in a relationship with.

“She’s totally got an April-September thing going on with Admiral Mitchell! You’ve seen him napping on the sofa in front of her desk! Why else would an Admiral be in the AMDO hangar?”

Your favorite rumors of all, though, are the ones about Bradley and you. 

“Bradshaw has to be who she is dating! He smiles so much when she’s around him! There’s this tension between the two of them all the time! If they’re not head over heels for each other, then I think I need a vacation (or my radar is broken).”

“That’s a shame, Jiffy! Are you a WSO or aren’t you?”

“Fuck you, Toast! Anyways, like I was saying, they’ll be fucking before we graduate from Top Gun!”

They’re your favorite rumors because they’re the ones most likely to come true, not that any of the class will come to know, especially not Toast and Jiffy, from whom you heard that last parlay. 

It’s the turmoil of being known as Bradley Bradshaw’s soulmate which has had you in a tailspin since the aftermath of that all too successful first date. Can you be known as his? Yes. Do you want to be known as his? Yes and no. That’s about where your feelings and thoughts get complicated. You’d love to scream “Bradley Bradshaw is my soulmate” from the rooftops. But you’re also tired of the double standard. You get enough of it as is, being a successful female, AMDO Lieutenant Commander in the US Navy. The words Bradley had flung at you that first night on North Island (the ones he has apologized for a hundred times)? You’ve heard them more times than you can count. You’re sure you’ll hear them again. But you’re also sure that if the news of you and Bradley being soulmates gets out, every achievement of your career will be in question.

Despite all of the leading research in the world, nobody fully understands how far and deep soulmate bonds go. After all, it’s difficult to, when there are as many types of bonds as there are and even more types of soul markers. You and your soul shared dreams, centered around different objects integral to your soul's identity. Your parents only heard the music the other was listening to until they met. Jake and Javy hold each other’s names on their skin, written out in each other's handwriting. It seems like each type of bond holds a different type of connection, too. In the two months since you and Bradley crashed together, opening the bond, you’ve begun to feel his emotions, get a sense of what he's thinking. Nobody knows how the bond will evolve, but you’re sure it could evolve into a full telepathic bond given time. If anyone were to know, they’d assume your talent with fighter jets came from your soul. They’d find it hard to believe you knew anything of your own. The thoughts have you questioning yourself just a little, too. Before you met him, who knows how much of the bond was open? How much of your success was due to him and how much of it was due to your own hard work?

Thankfully, you have Mav and Ice to confide in and counsel you. Their advice and reassurances have gone a long way in helping you sort out exactly how and when you want your bond publicized. As it turns out, you weren’t the only person to be shocked when they found out Ice and Mav are each other’s soulmates. It’s probably the US Navy’s best kept secret, to be clear. Very few people know, mostly family and commanding officers. You’ve even had the chance to view their public files. There is only a singular line mentioning their bond in each file, stating the words Soulbound, Married followed by the other’s initials.

The way Mav tells it, keeping each other hidden, keeping their bond quiet, has been the biggest help of their careers. Ice would have never been able to protect Mav over the years if their bond had been widely publicized. Of course, like most things in life, it wasn't easy. But it's the price they've each paid time and again to be with each other in spite of their dual need to succeed in their chosen fields.

Bradley and you've talked about it, too. It wasn’t a unilateral decision on either of your parts. You both have goals in your careers you are trying to achieve. So you're trying to follow the same precedent and example. But despite Mav’s warnings, you weren’t expecting keeping your distance from Bradley Bradshaw to be quite so difficult. At work, it's not as big a deal, staying away from each other. It feels like you couldn’t behave in any other way, honestly. Every motion is choreographed, governed by the muscle memory of bodies conditioned by the US Navy into holding themselves a certain way, responding in a certain way.

Unfortunately, the two of you act the same way when you're alone. When you're at home or at Mav and Ice's house, you melt into him, kiss him, hold him like you've been aching to for your whole life. But when you’re out and about in San Diego, he keeps a constant distance between you. He doesn’t slip his arm around your shoulder or your waist, kiss your cheek or shoulder or any of the hundreds of little ways couples you see on the street show their love for each other. You know it’s part and parcel of your pact. But it still makes you feel like a dirty little secret when you know you’re anything but. At least Bradley still kisses you like he believes you are going to disappear if he blinks. Each embrace, each brush of his lips against your skin sparks an inferno. But that is it. As soon as his lips meet your skin, they're gone again.

For weeks you've been feeling the itch under your skin, begging you to get closer to your soul. You're craving intimacy, a need to imprint yourself on his skin so deep he'll never forget who he belongs to. You might not be able to show it publicly, but privately, you’re ready to stake your claim. You know how gorgeous your soul is, inside and out. After all, you have eyes. You would never have noticed him the first night at the Hard Deck all those months ago if it weren’t for his charisma and looks. If only there was a way you could show him, in front of anyone who matters.

It doesn’t help that you can’t even kiss him when you’re off duty most of the time, because you inevitably find yourselves at The Hard Deck with the rest of the Dagger Squadron. There are too many eyes on you, on the Dagger Squadron when you’re there. They’re practically famous, and with Naval personnel other than the Daggers around, you can’t risk anything. When the Daggers are involved, things always seem to get turned on their heads. They are an affectionate squadron, closer to family than colleagues, preferring to hug each other with impunity. After all, you’ve seen the puppy-pile the lot of them turn into after a particularly rough training session at the behest of Mav. So it’s no wonder the rumors fly as fast and furiously about them as they do.

Anti-fraternization regulations are one thing. The badge bunnies and the odd bachelorette parties who wander into the Hard Deck for fun with some men and women in uniform are something else entirely. With enough alcohol, they flirt with anyone in sight. It’s no wonder they flirt as much as they do with your soulmate. They fall over themselves when he sits at the piano at the end of the bar, a flirty smile on his lips as he tickles the ivory keys and sings with his gorgeous voice. He’s your soulmate. You know it in your soul, just as you know all the reasons why Bradley would never pick one of them. But logic and reasoning don’t keep you from seeing red whenever other women flirt with your man.

It’s late, half-past 11 at the very least, with the time ticking closer to midnight with every elapsed second. All the regulars have mostly cleared out tonight, leaving only the Daggers, you, and a few scantily-clad girls in the bar. The Daggers are often the first to enter the bar when it opens and the last to leave. Right now, they’re all arrayed at the pool tables, talking shit and taking shots with the cues in turn. Penny’s behind the bar, like always, though even she seems less than pleased by the high-pitched giggling from the bachelorette party tottering about on too high heels. You hope she’s at least getting good tips from their repeated squeals for shots.

Bradley’s the only Dagger not at the pool tables. Even Bob with his ever-present can of soda and cup of peanuts is over there. If you focus, you think you can hear him roasting Jake in that quiet understated way of his. But most of your focus is on the badge bunny draped across Bradley’s broad chest. She stinks of cheap tequila, you could probably smell her from a mile away, and only the sash draped around her proclaiming her to be the maid-of-honor explains why she’s in this bar. What’s pissing you off just a little more than how this slut is draped over your soulmate is how she barely seems to care how you’re right there. You’ve been standing next to Bradley all night long, closer than is proper for colleagues. His hand’s been looped through one of the belt-loops on your jeans all night too, hidden behind the high table, palm scorching as it rests just over the swell of your ass. What part of your posture screams “This man is single”? If that wasn’t enough, he’d been leaning into your face as you chatted in intimate whispers barely audible over the music. 

She’d barged right into the middle of your conversation, tossing her hair and batting her eyelashes. Even now, she’s flirting and giggling, the high-pitched noises making you wince, putting you so thoroughly on edge that you feel like you’re seconds from snapping. You sigh when she finally stumbles away, her heels clacking clumsily over the sticky floor. You could do without the come-hither eyes she sends Bradley’s way, but at least Bradley doesn’t seem to notice. His attention is on you, like it has been all night.

“Fuck,” His voice is rough, the sound wrapping around you in a way that makes your panties just a little wet. “I’m sorry about that, sweetheart.”

He tugs you in a little closer by your belt loops, the motion soothing the ragged edges of your nerves as the Sandalwood of his cologne drowns you.

“She just wouldn’t go away!”

He drags his hand, the one with his US Naval Academy ring with its garnet gem through his curls as he downs the last few sips of his beer. You track a droplet as it drips down his cut jaw, and desperately want to kiss your soul once again. Of course, that feeling is drowned by more rage as you catch the cow-eyes little miss Maid-of-Honor is making in her sparkly hot pink dress on the other side of the bar. 

It makes you a little reckless as you spit words out, trying to provoke an argument, something to make your soul realize little things like a woman flirting with him, touching him, bothers you.

“Hmm… I wonder why, Roo?” You roll your eyes and stamp your foot a little. “Maybe it’s ‘cause you looked happy to have her wrapped around you?”

He recoils at your words and vitriolic tone, a puppy-dog pout dragging the corners of his mouth down for just a few seconds before resettling his lips into his most charming grin. It’s too charming for words, eroding at the edges of your anger just enough to make her flirting seem less troubling than it is.

“Is everything okay, Tink?” His hand slides up, rubbing at your hip in slow circles, but you’re not willing to give in. “C’mon baby, tell me what I did wrong. I can’t fix it if I don’t know.”

You gulp the last bit of your margarita in response before shoving the glass into his chest.

“It’s nothing, Roo. I’m fine. Just a little thirsty, that’s all.”

Your excuse is slim at best. You know it. So does he by the quirk in his brow as he looks at you. 

“We’ll talk about this when you’re ready.”

Maybe it’s the bond working to let him know when you’re not ready to talk. But when he grabs his empty beer bottle and your martini glass and turns around to walk back to the bar, your irrational anger rears its ugly little head again. Because there she is in all of her glory, whispering with one of her friends, waving him over with red-taloned fingers while seductively staring at your soul. She’s obviously noticed the swagger in his hips just as much as you have. If only she’d noticed your glower in her direction, a gaze which is quickly turning into a piercing glare. You’re not trying to pick a fight, tonight. It's not Bradley's fault that women find him irresistible. You just want your soul to know she bothers you. And you want her to know he’s not hers to seduce into her bed just because he’s hot.

So your tone is artificially light as you call out, just loud enough over the din that Bradley hears you.

“You don’t even know you’re doing it, huh?”

“Doing what?” He sounds confused, adorably so.

“I mean, it’s obvious you haven’t spent any time on a farm.”

You grin from ear-to-ear, fighting the urge to fist-bump the air, when he turns around, out of the line of sight of little miss Maid-of-Honor at the other end of the bar. He thuds the empties down and crosses his arms across his chest, the muscles bulging mouth-wateringly in front of you. It’s obvious he knows what you’re up to based on the amused quirk to his lips, but he’s playing along regardless.

“And you have?”

There’s a sparkle in his eyes as he looks down at you. Your grin could be called positively wicked in response.

“Sure I have! Seresin Ranch is an awful lot of fun at Christmas-time!” You tug one of the chairs over and sit down in it, keeping the high table between you and your soulmate. “You know what else they have at Seresin Ranch?”

“Lemme take a quick guess here…” 

His eyebrows raise as he pretends to think. 

“Chickens?”

“Yup!”

You relish in the shape of your lips as you pop the ‘p’ in your too cheeky response to him.

“And there is one ole Rooster in the flock, too. And you know how he walks? Especially when he’s got a hen he’s wooing?”

“Just like I do?” Your lips quirk at the disappointment on his face, destroying the mock thoughtful pout you'd sent your soul's way moments before. When a smile sneaks onto his lips unwillingly, you giggle. He looks fondly exasperated at the sight of your glee, but takes a step closer to you.

“God, Tinky! If I hadn’t been right here all night, I would’ve been asking you just how much you’ve had to drink tonight!”

You can’t find it in you to respond, the thoughts flitting past at lightning speed. It feels like you’re magnetized to his presence. One of his big hands wraps around your hip as he comes to stand between your open legs. He’s a lot, all of a sudden, standing there so close. It’s a little overwhelming. You can’t keep your eyes off of his face, eyes straying repeatedly over the little laugh lines stamped at the corner of his eyes and the way his lips are spit-slicked and a little chapped. You’re so close to him, you’d be kissing him if you pressed upwards just a little more. But somehow, you can’t bring yourself to.

“You’re jealous.”

Everything in you screams you should deny the statement. But you can’t lie. The bond would tell him what your face hasn’t already.

“C-can you blame me?”

The words leave you in a puff of breath, barely audible over the clinking glasses and the whir of the jukebox in the corner.

“Why would you be jealous? I promise there’s no reason for you to be jealous. I promise, sweetheart.” There’s something almost knowing in his face.

“I - I should believe you, Bradley, but I don’t. There's no reason why I shouldn't be jealous of the girls who flirt with you who look like that.” You want to believe him, but the words aren't reassuring in the slightest. “E - especially when I know I’ve never once looked like that on my best days, forget my worst.”

He cups your cheek in his big hand, his skin hot against yours.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, sweetheart.” He sighs, then, pressing his forehead against yours. “And you don’t even know it, do you? That first night? When you were chatting with Penny at the bar wearing that sundress? I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you. I was tracking you all night. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you ever since. You have a way of taking over the room with your presence. You’re so sure of who you are and what you’re capable of. You’ve never shied about going after what you want. I admire that about you. I adore that about you.”

“So trust me, beautiful, when I say you have nothing to worry about. You never have and you never will. I know it in my very soul.”

This? This is exactly why it took less than two months for you to fall head-over-heels in love with your soulmate. He always seems to know what to say to make you see things in a different way. All of a sudden, it feels like there isn’t anyone else in the room. The noise of the jukebox, of the Daggers squabbling in the background fades away. All you want in that moment is your soul. But just before you fling yourself into his arms, the shattering of glass jolts you out of your feelings. You're too close to Bradley Bradshaw - too close for a pair of colleagues sharing a late night drink after a long day. Were you both anywhere else, you would have kissed him already, given your preoccupation with the taste of him, the scent of him, the feel of him.

Instead, you murmur, “I'm heading out, Roo. I've got this terrible headache and I should probably turn in early for the night.”

You know he's looking at you with those big, deep brown eyes, trying to get you to meet his gaze, convince you to stay for another drink, another chat, another laugh. But you can’t. You're at the end of your rope. If you were to fall now, loosen your grip on the chains keeping you in check, it would result in the destruction of your efforts. The Daggers barely acknowledge your goodbyes, too absorbed by the game of pool happening before their eyes. Penny wraps you in a motherly embrace as you pay your tab, enquiring fussily if you need her to call a cab. With every move you make, you feel eyes on you. You know exactly who it is, your soul, watching eagle-eyed as you collect your bag and walk out to your car. You know it’s that old Bradshaw chivalry rearing its head, something Mav told you Goose had exhibited with Carole his whole life.

So, of course, you're not alone in the sea-perfumed night air for long. Footsteps disturbing gravel follow you as soon as you step out of the pool of light cast by The Hard Deck’s lamps, hints of sandalwood scent curling around you on the breeze.

“C'mon, sweetheart. Don't I even get a kiss goodnight?” He's wheedling, enticing. Damn him, because you ache for his skin in a way you're not sure you could ever voice. He’s weakening your resolve with every step in your direction.

“There isn't even anybody watching!”

“Who said I was saying goodnight, Roo?” 

The shell-shocked look on his face makes you giggle as you start your car and drive away from The Hard Deck. The roads are deserted, but not for long. Only seconds later, you hear the growl of an engine and smile at the sight of a blue truck pulling up behind you. Your phone chirps with a text as you idle at a stoplight.

This time, I'm not letting you go.

This time, you muse as the light changes, you don’t intend to let him walk out the door so easily.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON TUMBLR, WATTPAD, OR AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN ON TUMBLR, WATTPAD, OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

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