#and engage when someone tries to bring up a concern

[compassionatereminders]

mostly the thing that made me fall out with the system of psychiatry is just. how rigid it is and how unwilling to bend to the patient's individual needs, that if a treatment doesnt work its implied the patient didnt try hard enough to engage as opposed to....every single person is different and just because one treatment works for the majority of patients with that illness, the illness does not make all those people the same.

as well as that i also have issues with how people in the psych system trust their colleagues. i was psychologically abused by my psychiatrist for two years which consisted of him removing any medications, lying to me and discharging me for punishments. i tried to kill myself twice under him and his treatment of me caused that. he still works at the outpatients i attend bc who is going to believe a psychotic patient over a psychiatrist (which is another thing about the system that psychotic patients raising any concern is seen as delusion). and not only that but all his coworkers think hes a great guy. so how am i meant to get treatment for the damage he did to me when all of his colleagues are more inclined to try to protect their coworker than face the fact he is Abusive and Negligent to patients with personality disorders. How am I meant to get treatment for that trauma when all the system wants to do is protect itself first?

And that's not even bringing up how hard it is to be any kind of minority in psychiatric care. I've known Deaf people left on units without access to interpreters, essentially themselves from family, friends and anyone who speaks their fucking language, unable to defend themselves or even understand what doctors are telling them. As a trans person I have to go through my transition history every appointment. For what? and when transphobic legislation gets passed and I start thinking abt how i dont want to live in this world it is exhausting to phone a hotline knowing i will have to explain this whole thing to someone who doesnt know/care. and that black people are restrained, sectioned, diagnosed with schizophrenia and labelled aggressive at exceedingly high rates compared to white people. AND THEN the fact that Being a minority at all has negative effects on your mental health but psychiatry often seems to fucking treat mental illness like its exactly the same in everyone and will not sit down with minorities and hear them out on their struggles.

my like tldr is psychiatry is a system now and it refuses to engage with patients on an individual level it doesnt ask patients what they want and instead bases things off "reccommended treatments" which involve invasive interventions for certain diagnoses that patients dont get a choice in. and people are content to just have psych patients sectioned and isolated and they dont wanna think about the fact their human rights get taken away for indefinite amounts of time for WHAT?

it frustrates me endlessly. i dont want to be this ill but the system wont help.

Well said. I really hate how psych professionals will so often see a recommended treatment not working or making things worse and treat this as proof that the patient isn't trying hard enough instead of going "hey maybe this approach just isn't right for this person"

[pragmatic-optimist]

An Appeal re: Anon Asks

For the last week (although honestly, the last six months), I've been having conversations on and off about the responsibility of answering asks on your blog and the impact it has on fandom as a community. 

At some point during Season 2 of Lone Star, the Anon asks, in particular, got truly out of control, and it's only gotten worse over time. Your blogs are your blogs, and I respect that. At the same time, as a fandom community, we share this space. Whether or not we all know one another, we're all coexisting in the tags and on this site. It takes a lot of emotional labor and time to filter and block on Tumblr, especially when folks don't tag consistently or correctly. Like many in this fandom, I also want to have fun while I'm here, but it's hard to do that when there seems to be little to no discernment in answering asks or properly tagging them.  

When it comes to unnecessary negative comments on fanfic, we often say, "it's not hard to close out of something if you don't like it." The spirit of that applies here, too. It's easy not to answer an ask, especially an Anon ask.

If someone isn't putting their name on something they're asking you to post to your blog, I would argue it requires an additional second and third look and careful consideration of how you answer it. (Certain asks are answered flippantly and then tagged for all to see, but that is an entirely separate post I won't be writing). 

Everything you share gets eyes; how many depends on how loud of a voice you're considered in the fandom. And it's been my experience that the louder the voice, the more substantial the likelihood you'll find problematic Anon asks in your inbox. Answering these asks on your blog gives them a platform, and tagging them gives them an audience outside of your followers. If you're a "big blog," it increases the odds that some of us will also be subjected to these problematic asks through reblogs. All of this broadly impacts fandom conversation because now it's deemed acceptable to send XYZ type of ask, use XYZ word(s), bring up XYZ topic, or talk about XYZ actor(s) or character(s) in any type of way.

The whole "this is Tumblr, it's not that serious" argument is privileged because some of this stuff is serious for someone like me (and others in this space). I can't just pretend someone isn't implicitly making it seem okay to say certain things, especially if their blog is looked at as a popular fandom source.

This ask is just one example of what I'm talking about:

It's the use of a racialized fetish term, and honestly, it's super cringe. Seeing this in the show tag is deeply uncomfortable as a Latinx person. What was the point of answering this ask and then tagging it? It serves no purpose and hangs out in the show tag like we all just throw it around (we don’t). It's been brought to attention, and still, it lingers. 

A fandom community should be safe and fun for all, but we don't live in a perfect world, so it takes work. Part of being in a community and doing the work is kindly holding people accountable to make it that way and being willing to have constructive conversations when concerns are raised. It's not accountability if you only show "remorse" when your friends bring something to your attention, and then nothing changes.

Accountability also ceases to exist when the fandom community chooses deep avoidance, handwaving things away whenever someone tries to share a concern. I have no idea why this keeps happening here, but I do know that every time it happens, it is profoundly isolating and makes it clear that fandom is only meant to be fun for some. The rest of us have to either put up with it or leave. 

If that's the message the Lone Star fandom intends to send, it's being received loud and clear. 

****

(Edit: the post is finally down, but I’ve shared a screenshot because it took three days and more than one person to address it publicly and this is exactly what I’m talking about.)

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Part 5 of Truth or Dare Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Things are getting complicated, truths are being revealed, and a decisions are going to have to be made regarding the future. So much hangs in the balance and emotions are high as reality makes this about no more games.

Word Count: 9.8 k

Warnings: light mentions of smut (nothing explicit), pining, mutual pining, heavy angst, forcing a decision

Captain Price bristles at the private’s words, taken aback by this impromptu revelation, but he hides it all behind his usual stone cold stare. A gruff exhale exits his lips as he runs his fingertips over the perimeter of his mustache. ���Don’t care ‘bout what happens on off hours,” he says full of contempt at being dragged into this bullshit. “It’s none of my business and it’s none of yours either, so best just drop it private.”

This isn’t how it’s supposed to go; the captain is supposed to march over to the lieutenant’s quarters and break up your little lovefest right this second at hearing his confession. At least that was what the private was hoping for when he decided to make this visit. He needs something more. 

“But sir,” he says more exasperatedly, “it isn’t just after hours. The first time I caught them, the lieutenant and sergeant were going at it in the munitions depot when I walked in; you remember that day you sent me to fetch Lt. Riley. They’ve even been engaging in activities in the field as well. During our mission they neglected their watch duties to screw around like some fucking teenagers. Is that what you call acceptable, sir? Is this how you run your operations?”

Goddammit, now it is Price’s problem. Messing around when off duty or on leave is one thing that can be easily overlooked as you are both adults who are engaging in activities with consent, but risking it all when out in the field is another matter altogether. There are protocols and you are supposed to be professionals. And if this bit of information gets out it could have dire consequences for the validity of this task force. 

“Maybe I should bring my concerns up to someone higher,” the private mutters in the silence that follows as Price mulls over everything in his mind. 

“What did ya say?” the captain fires back as he rejoins the conversation, his firm glare boring holes into the private.

Immediately the young man regrets having uttered it aloud, but there’s no going back now. “I just… I-if I need to, I-I will have to go above you, sir,” he stammers out as he tries to maintain his resolve.

Fuck, this is bad.

Price sits forward in his seat, his eyes never leaving the private even though he tries to divert his gaze; each time he brings it back Price is ready to meet it head on. “You will leave this be private,” Price threatens, his voice firm. “This is not under your jurisdiction, nor is it in your ability to decide who needs discipline in these matters. I will take care of it as I see fit; I am the one in charge, not you. Do you understand?”

“Sir, I should at least get to know that you are going to do…” the private tries to argue some more, but the captain is having none of it.

“You’re dismissed,” Price barks as he points a steady hand towards the door.

“But sir…” he tries to protest again and again he is cut off. 

“I said, dismissed private, or would you rather I start my disciplining with you,” Price says unyieldingly, staring him down with a glare that means he is seriously done with this conversation and with being disrespected. 

Quickly the private gets up from his seat with a furrow-browed nod and a rushed, pointed ‘yes, sir,’ that he mutters through his gritted teeth before he turns on his heels and stalks to the door to fling it open and stomp off into the night, leaving Price alone in his office once more as he slams it behind him. 

With the immediate quiet that follows, all Price can think about is what the private has revealed to him. To have the highly trained professional that is Simon Riley abandon everything to mess around with anyone during a mission is unheard of, but it being you makes this even more complicated. This is territory he has no prior knowledge on; something big must be happening for everything to be turned on its head and he doesn’t know what the fuck he is going to do about it all.

Though he knows he cannot just let this go. At least he has the weekend to think it all over, but he knows come Monday he is going to have to act or risk too much because that private is not going to let this go, that much is clear.

The captain decides that that is enough for the night and packs it up to head out. As he leaves out and turns to get back to his own quarters, his eyes linger over to where a specific officer is housed. “What the fuck have ya done Simon?” Price questions aloud to himself as he steps off into the darkness with much weighing on his mind, pondering the next steps of what actions must now be taken.

Back in the lieutenant’s room, hours pass in the blissfully exhaustive ecstasy produced from your union. Both of you slumber on peacefully, wrapped in one another, entirely unaware of anything outside the confines of the mattress until something unfamiliar makes Simon stir awake.

Intaking a full, deep breath, he fills his lungs with a flood of air as he comes back into consciousness, his eyes fluttering open in a mild panic from movement at his side. It takes him a moment to realize that it is you rolling back over to face him that has caught him off-guard; he forgot that you would still be in his bed. Mystery solved, he calmly settles back down into his pillow and watches the slow rise and fall of your chest, admiring how tranquil you look as your dark eyelashes rest delicately against your cheeks.

It’s been a long, long time since he’s slept beside anyone; he’d almost forgotten how comforting it can be to have another laying beside you. A weak smile spreads across his lips as careful fingers reach over to the side of your head so that he can tenderly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

God, you’re beautiful just like this. How did he get so god damn lucky to have something so pure sleeping soundly next to him? You let out a whispered sigh and suddenly he is caught up in a whirlwind of feelings that have been in hibernation for years as his fingertips linger delicately against the soft flesh of your cheek a moment more. He wishes he could kick himself for not trying to get closer to you sooner, if only to have you here lying next to him as if it has always been this way.  

Those copper eyes drift to the plain black and white standard government issue clock tacked to the wall. It’s nearly five in the morning; still too early to be conscious just yet, but once he’s up there’s no going back down. He takes a few more minutes to silently appreciate your sleeping form by capturing the image of you like a polaroid in his mind and then decides to just let you sleep until the last minute before he wakes you up to send you safely on your way.

Who said you needed to rush off anyway? 

As carefully as all 6’4” of him can, he eases his way out of the bed and creeps bare-arsed to the en suite bathroom so that he can grab a quick shower, though he’d like nothing more than to keep the scent of you on him a little longer. It won’t do him any favors to go around base today with the fragrance of sex covering him like a beacon to draw people’s unwanted attention.

Cautiously he eases the bathroom door to where it is slightly ajar, not risking shutting it since he knows how bad the damned thing squeaks, and only then does he flick on the fluorescent lights to illuminate the space. Blinking to adjust his eyes to the harsh brilliance, he opens them and immediately catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror that faces the door.   

Even though he still carries the signs of sleep in his distinct features, he can already tell that he is different somehow and he walks closer to his reflection to get a better look. Everything is exactly where it should be, but his eyes seem brighter, more full of life… as if he is happier than he has been in recent memory. He stares back into them as if he is looking at a different person, a reunion with an old friend he hasn’t seen in a long time.  

And he doesn’t know what to think. It is a gift from you, after all…though you don’t even know you’ve given it to him yet.

Simon shakes his head and chuckles to himself, not fully ready to accept this drastic change to his appearance just yet, as he pulls from the mirror and walks the few steps to the shower to get it going. The pipes running to the showerhead squeak to life as run for a few seconds when without warning he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist from behind as a warm, naked chest presses into his back. It momentarily takes him by surprise as he is still getting used to having someone around, but he eventually settles into your embrace. 

“Was tryin’ not to wake ya yet,” he mutters as he runs his hand over yours that is against his stomach.

“Heard the shower kick on,” you murmur sleepily into his shoulder as you place your lips to the smooth skin near his shoulder blade, “thought I could do with getting clean myself, so I wanted to join you.”

It isn’t a total lie, you do need to wash up after the mess from the night before, though you wish you could be honest and say that you just wanted to be close while you still can. You know you are going to have to leave soon if you want to make it back to your quarters without detection, but it doesn’t stop the feeling of disappointment that looms like a gray cloud at the back of your mind that you will have to part ways. 

Simon holds your palms pressed rigid and flat against his abdominals so you can’t let go as he leans in to check the temperature of the water with his free hand. The heated liquid rains down onto his palm perfectly warm, but not too hot, and being satisfied he pulls you both inside the cozy oasis. 

He moves you in front of him so that your back is directly under the shower head, letting the heated water run through the length of your hair and down the curves of your bare back to keep you warm. It feels like you’re still in a dream the way the steam rises around your bodies in the tight space, the condensation clinging to your skin like a warm blanket. Maybe you are still asleep in his bed, you feel barely awake as it is, and if that’s the case you hope you don’t wake up cause you don’t want to leave the fantasy just yet. 

The soothing water lulls you into a drowsy calm as Simon holds you close against him while he naturally rocks you both back and forth with slow, easy movements as he gently tries to help you wake up. He cannot help admiring the flush in your face brought on by the heat or the way the droplets trickle over your soft, delicate skin. Reaching out, his hand connects with your cheek as he strokes his coarse thumb over your jaw and up to the corner of your mouth before dragging it heavily over your bottom lip until he has them parted. 

“I swear you’re a fuckin’ dream, pretty girl,” he whispers as his hand on your face brings it in towards his so that he can gently connects your lips. 

Memories of confessions from the night before spring back to the surface, admissions of possession that he doesn’t want to take back even though that mind-numbing haze from being inside you is gone. You can hear him sigh heavily as he breaks the kiss to rest his forehead against yours.

If only he could wake up like this every day. Could that even be a possibility for someone like him? Inside the steam-filled oasis that cloaks you both from reality, he allows himself to fantasize just a little. Maybe…maybe…

Simon lets you go only to grab the soap from its place sitting on the edge of the tub, ready to clean up the mess he made. Taking care of someone other than himself is an oddly comforting sensation to him and even though you try to protest that he doesn’t have to, he still takes the time to wash you down anyway before tending to himself. 

He leaves you inside the shower to finish up as he steps out into the bathroom, wrapping a towel securely around his hips, making sure to leave a towel for you as well before he heads to the mirror. His rigorous actions between your legs last night left a rather rough patch against your thigh that he caught sight of in the shower and checking his face in the foggy bit of glass above the sink, Simon decides it’s about time to shave.

…cause he is definitely going to get between those legs again soon. 

A bag of random toiletries lies at the edge of the sink and he rummages around in it until he locates his razor. He steps up to the counter and turns on the sink just as the creak from the shower handle rings out and the water is shut off. From the mirror he can see you step out and wrap the towel he’s set out for you around your chest. 

You ring out your hair behind you before you move to his side and turn to rest your butt against the edge of the countertop. Looking down, you spy the shaving instrument in his hand.

“Gettin’ rid of it?” you ask with a hint of disappointment as you reach up and run your fingertips over his jaw. The steam from the shower has already softened the hairs so they don’t prickle roughly against your touch as you outline his face.

Suddenly he can’t find his voice; every single time you touch him it’s like the first time all over again and it makes his head spin. Clearing his throat he looks down at you. “It’s a bit too rough, innit?” he says, tapping at your thigh with the abrasion on it. “Don’t wanna hurt ya again.”

Why did it sound more deep a sentiment than it should have been? A lump wells in your throat as you realize he is doing this for you and you alone; it’s just a shave, but to have him care about your wellbeing is very special to you. Especially after the confessions from the night before; clearly he has meant it: you belong to him now.

“Well, if you must…but, I wonder. Can I?” you ask with a smile as you reach for the blade in his hand.

Simon pauses before giving it up to you. This is a new one for him and he is a little unsure, but curious enough to see where it leads. You move your body between him and the counter so that you can hop up and sit yourself in front of him. Opening your legs, you pull him in close.

“You trust me, don’t you?” you ask barely above a whisper as you situate him in the middle of your legs. 

More than anyone, he thinks to himself as he silently stares back into your eyes. He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t have to, he just drops his hands by his sides and tilts his jaw up.

Your ankles link behind the small of his back as your hand grasps his chin to keep his head steady so you can place the razorblade to his cheek. The sharp edge of the blade pushes into his skin and is dragged slowly down the line of his face until it reaches your hand where you pick it up to move on to the next section. It’s like an intimate dance, the risk of it all as the blade continues to pass over his skin, but you skill keeping him safe from cuts, making his heart race so you can feel his pulse under your fingertips.

“Just hold still,” you say as you feel the sensation of his hands moving up your bare thighs, running up towards your hips that have peeked out through the slit in the towel. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Ya won’t,” he says in that gruff tone without hesitation and you can feel the warmth rise in your face. 

There is steam still lingering in the air from the shower; it is fogging the mirror and adds a filmy haze to the atmosphere. The aroma of his soap is strong between your bodies, both of you coated in his usual plain, clean scent. It’s nice just being here like this with him. 

Another pass of the blade and more of that thick stubble comes right off under your careful hand. You move the blade over to the sink to rinse it again and that’s when you feel it, a stabbing against your thigh from within the confines of his towel. His damp, hair-covered chest rubs against your forearms as he moves in even tighter to you.

“Like the way ya look, all serious like when you’re workin’ hard at somethin’,” he says in a breathy whisper as you finish another swipe of the razorblade across his jaw. “Didn’t know how good you’d be with a sharp object in your hand.”

“Well, if you keep moving I might not be so precise. I’m almost done,” you scold him, but Simon isn’t deterred just because you have something sharp in your hand. He has something just as deadly prodding into you too.

His strong fingertips jab themselves into your hips, stabbing into the meat hard through the towel as he presses himself into you and suddenly it feels like you can’t quite catch your breath. He hums deep in his chest, a low, guttural sound that makes your clit throb as those long fingers of his twirl the loose, wet strands of your hair between them.

“I’ll give ya ‘bout another minute to get it done,” he says as his gaze lingers longingly on your mouth. “That’s all I can wait.” 

Suddenly the room isn’t the only thing that is obscured in a haze; your mind is misfiring terribly now as you hurry to finish the job while also being sure you don’t miss any spots. You rinse the blade for the last time and quickly check him over, flashing him a satisfied smile at your handiwork. 

“I thought we just got clean for the day?” you ask as he takes the blade from your hand and sets it on the countertop beside you.  

He doesn’t answer the question with words, instead letting his mouth do something else to convey his thoughts. His kiss is softer now with the missing stubble, though just as passionate as it always is and it takes your breath away. 

“I like the way you kiss me,” you murmur against his lips. 

“Good, cause I don’t plan on stoppin’ anytime soon, sweetheart,” he groans as his fingers reach up to your chest to find the edge of the towel; with one small tug he has it undone. It drops down around the sink as he leans in more aggressively to capture your mouth.  

There’s still enough time for another shower, right? Fuck, at this point he’ll make time.

Dawn is just beginning to break its first soft light over the base as you step out of the shower for the second time and hurriedly get dressed. Simon meets you at the door with a knot in the pit of his stomach; time’s up whether he is ready or not and if you want to make it back undetected it has to be now.

“Got plans later tonight?” he asks as he pulls you to him one last time.

You look up into his face and shake your head. “Not that I know of. Gonna be a light day today. Why?”

Simon pins you against him with his arm around your waist as he tilts his head down to kiss your lips. “Just thinkin’ ya might want ta be in later,” he says, giving one last peck before he opens the door and you immediately take off in the direction of your personal quarters.

He keeps his eyes on you till you’re out of sight, trying to wipe away the slight upturning of the corners of his mouth. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he grumbles under his breath as he shuts the door.

The rest of the day is spent in a blur, punctuated by the few times you just happened to catch a glimpse of Simon through the days as you go about. Your mind constantly wanders back to what he meant by you might want to stay in later, so when Soap asks if you’re gonna come hang in the rec with them for a bit of Saturday fun, you decline and stay put in your room instead.   

It’s a little after 9 o’clock when there is a heavy knock on your door, loud raps that echo through the room and make you put away the book you are failing to distract yourself with under your bed. You hop off the mattress, your heart fluttering in your chest. Making it to the door and pulling it open you immediately come face to face with the person leaning against your door frame: Simon. 

“Ya gonna let me in, luv?” he asks. “Or ya just gonna fuckin’ leave me out ‘ere all night?”

You cross your arms and furrow your brow as if you are agitated, but it doesn’t last more than a few seconds before you are breaking character. “Couldn’t stay away for one night, could you?” you pick back.

There is a visible smirk beneath the thin fabric of his lightweight balaclava. “ ‘S part a my routine,” he says as you grab his hand and drag him inside. “Too used to it now.” 

“Well far be it from me to stop you,” you say with a smile as you shut the door and bolt it behind you both while Simon quickly rips off the mask and pulls you into a kiss. 

“Knew you’d cave,” he breathes against your mouth.

“Maybe I like you around,” you say back.

Maybe I like bein’ around, he thinks as he kisses you back harder as you lead him over to your bed. 

Sunday evening is spent in the same vein except with you both switching off again so that you are the one to come over to his to spend your evening together. Cause he is right, this arrangement has become routine now and your day just doesn’t feel complete without seeing him. Unfortunately though, it being Sunday you both decide to call it earlier as your duties will call you to work early in the morning.

One lingering goodbye later and Simon is once again watching you walk away, secretly making a wish that maybe you’ll get the chance soon to spend more time together when something breaks him out of his thoughts. As he shuts the door behind you, suddenly he can hear a distinct buzzing coming from somewhere near his bed. He knows that sound; it’s his cellphone. It’s late and he never gets a call at this time, so quickly he grabs it up off the nightstand near the bed and as soon as he is able to get a look at the screen, his heart sinks into the floor: Price is the one that is calling. 

He picks it up. “Yes, sir,” he answers in his usual stern tone.

There is a pause over the line before the captain speaks. “Lieutenant,” Price says, “I apologize for calling, I know it’s late, but I need to see you in my office tomorrow morning. 0800 hours. There are some things we urgently need to discuss.”

This strikes Simon as odd; never has the captain called him this late to inform him of a meeting the next day, so why would he be doing it now? Something feels off about it all and though he has no information other than that his presence is needed, there is something in Price’s tone that has his blood running cold. 

“What’s this about, sir?” Simon asks, keeping his voice metered as his heart begins to race. 

Price sighs. “I would rather wait till the mornin’ to talk further as this is something that needs to be discussed in person.”

“Yes, sir,” Simon agrees.  

“That is all lieutenant, enjoy the rest of your evening,” the captain says in a rush and with that the line goes dead, leaving Simon confused and slightly worried.

Time seems to drag on endlessly as anxiety keeps him up the entire night tossing and turning as he stares into the ceiling. He thinks about texting you just to see if you’re up, but he talks himself out of it. His needless worries shouldn’t bother you, even though he knows you’d answer him in a heartbeat. No, he just needs to get through the night and then in the morning everything will be settled; it’s going to be fine.

An hour before he is supposed to meet the captain and Simon is already up and dressed; his office is less than a ten minute walk from Simon’s, but he wants to be early. It’s better to just get this over with so he can enjoy the rest of his day and make plans to see you later. With twenty minutes still to go he heads out and makes his way across the base. 

With a knock on the door, he waits until Price looks up before entering the office. 

“Early as usual,” the captain greets him.

“Better than late,” he says, before nodding back behind him. “Ya want me to shut the door?” 

“Not yet,” Price says and Simon leaves the doorway to take his seat in one of the chairs facing the large, wooden desk.

He’s sitting for just a few minutes before Price’s eyes dart up to the door and he can feel the shadow of another person standing there. “Ah, yes, come in and shut the door. Now that you are both here, we can get started,” he hears the captain say as he turns his head to see who it is that has arrived; he had been under the impression that this was a solo meeting this whole time.

Suddenly his heart stops as the person comes into his line of sight. It’s you, the blood draining from your face as you see him sitting there. It’s clear you have been caught off-guard by this as much as he has. The atmosphere becomes tense and strained as you take a seat next to Simon. Captain Price sits tall with authority as he stares back at the pair of you, a grave look in his gaze. 

“Do you know why I’ve called you in here?” Price asks, looking first at you, then the lieutenant.

Neither of you feel keen enough to say anything, but you finally speak up first, if only to break the anxiety bubbling under your moderately calm surface. “No, sir.”

Price takes a hesitant breath. “I have been informed over the weekend about you both engaging in acts of misconduct,” he says firmly. “You’ve been seen cavorting with one another on several occasions. Now, there are things that can be overlooked and if it were up to me I woulda simply turned a blind eye and pretended to know anything, but it has been brought to light that these ‘activities’ were done while out in the field on your latest mission. Is this true?” 

The hair on Simon’s arms is standing on end and he feels like he is about to be sick, the bile violently churning in his stomach as his worst fear is realized. Instantly he feels guilty and begins to blame himself; this is all his fault. After all, he was the one to break protocol back at the safehouse. His careless actions have caught up to you both and now you will have to face the consequences.

Price turns his attention to you as there is no hiding the guilt on your face like Simon can behind his mask and though neither of you have spoken yet to confirm, there is no need. Your body language mixed with his lieutenant’s silence alone tells him that the accusations that were made are indeed true.  

“You both understand that this is out of my hands,” Price emphasizes the point. “If this reaches anywhere outside this base my authority will be brought into question and this operation cannot afford that. Not to mention that I risk the possibility of losing either one or both of you if things escalate. What the hell were you thinkin’, doin’ that while deployed?”

The lieutenant doesn’t have an answer, at least not one that will make this all go away. The problem is that he wasn’t thinking; all he knew was that for the first time in a long while he wanted something so bad that the consequences didn’t matter in that moment. Now he has to pay for them and unfortunately that means you do as well…and that is what is breaking his heart. 

He has dragged you into hell with him.

“You both have crossed a line that I can’t pull you back from,” Price continues with a defeated exhale. In all honesty, he wants nothing more than to let this go, but there are too many variables at stake. “The one who reported this is threatening to take this up the ladder as far as they need if I do nothing. My hands are tied on the matter.”

“Sir, if you’ll let me explain, perhaps we can come to an agreement…” you try to reason with your captain, but that is not how this will go.

Price can hear the tremble in your voice and he knows he’s struck a chord. The look he gives you is one full of remorse. “But in the end we’re all adults here and that means ya have a say in what happens to yourselves. If you want to request a transfer or, hell, apply for a discharge, I can’t stop you; that is a decision you have a right to make.”

The wind feels like it has been knocked from Simon’s lungs and though he can see Price talking, his mind will not allow him to fully comprehend what is being said. 

Amidst the stunned hush that has fallen over the room, Price slowly pushes his chair out from the desk and makes his way to stand. “I know I’ve sprung this on you both without so much as a warning, so I’ll give you some time alone to make your decisions. Otherwise, I will have to make them for you and that is something I want to avoid.”

With that he steps out of the office, closing the door behind him, and thrusting you both into an uncomfortably tense stillness. It lingers for far too long as Simon battles internally with what to do, struggling to accept that his happiness has imploded as it always does, but one thing he keeps coming back to is the fact that no matter what, you will be forced to separate if one or both of you decide to stay in this line of work.  

The taskforce means everything to you just as it does him and this is so much bigger than simply exploring the depths of a crush. This is your entire life, all the blood, sweat, and effort you’ve both put in to be here; it’s all you’ve worked so hard for. It is all you both have ever known. 

Can you really give that all up? It’s too soon to be having this type of life-altering conversation.

Out of the turmoil in his mind, he hears you calling his name. “Simon? Hey,” you call out to him again to get his attention; it feels like he is a million miles away even though he is still sitting right beside you. 

He can’t bear to look you in the face and keeps his eyes locked on his shoes; his gaze is so avoidant that it is painful, especially after how close you both have become. Still, you try your hardest to lighten the mood even through the ache making your chest tight. 

“Not the best way to start the morning,” you chuckle uncomfortably. 

More silence follows, more agony. He’s going to have to say something at some point and when he does it’s all going to come crashing down. As long as he is quiet he can suspend the moment for as long as possible. 

“Listen,” you say, “I know this sounds bad, but we can figure it out. I mean, I don’t have a problem with requesting the transfer if I have to.”

That’s the last thing he wants; you can’t leave. If you leave it will kill him. “Sweetheart… don’t…” Simon speaks up for the first time since you entered the office and it sounds like he’s being tortured. 

“Would a transfer really be so bad? Who knows? It could just be for a short while until everything cools off,” you remark, still hopeful, but he simply shakes his head.

Simon pauses. “No, ya can’t do that,” he says and you can feel a lump forming in the base of your throat that makes you almost gag.

“Isn’t it my decision? Don’t I get a say in what I do?” you push.

Another drawn out pause. “Ya don’t wanna do that, I know ya don’t.”

“Don’t speak for me,” you say harshly as you know where this is headed and you can’t stand even the thought of it. “I can choose to do what I want.”

“I can’t let ya do that,” he denies you again, his words firm. “I can’t let ya fuckin’ give up everythin’ for me, no matter how much I may want it. Ya forget I read your personnel file when ya arrived, I know ya worked your ass off ta get ‘ere. You made it all the way ta sergeant by the sweat of your brow. Don’t fuckin’ throw it all away jus’ for somethin’ so new.”

More pauses. Why is there so much silence present now? It hurts to have all that quiet be filled with sadness where it was only comfort before. 

“So, this is it then?” Your heart is shattering into pieces, you can physically feel it crumble as you suffocate on the sadness. When did this get so god damn complicated?

Simon bites the inside of his cheek until he can taste copper. “I don’t know what else ta fuckin’ do…” he says quietly. “This is all so sudden, I don’t ‘ave a plan. I just know ya can’t leave and I need more time.”

He’s not as quick to act on this as you are and you can’t fault him for that. In all honesty he isn’t wrong; this is all happening so fast that it’s overwhelming and nothing really feels like the right decision. So, even though it pains you to concede to his argument, you do and the heartbreak wins. Yet you cling on to the hope that maybe there is a way out of this. He did not say outright that he is completely done, only that he needs time to think. 

You can give him time, right?

“Please, Simon, just look at me.”

Those brown eyes drift up to meet yours and the agony of this whole fucked up situation is written in his gaze. This is supposed to be something wonderful, not something that has casualties, and he is being ripped apart by duty and what he wants most. He wants to scream, beat his fists, break anything, but it won’t do any good; he is like a man cursed…somehow this was always going to happen.

“ ’m sorry,” he says and a heavy bit of silence follows as you sit there just looking at one another. 

Overcome with emotion, you swallow hard. “I know,” you retort as you reach out to take his hand in yours. “I know.”

Simon slides his long fingers in between the spaces in yours and holds on so tight to your hand it’s almost painful. Irrationally he thinks that maybe if he squeezes hard enough not even fate can take you from him, but that isn’t the case. There is no stopping what has to happen and though you both can prolong the moment, you can’t stop time. 

Releasing his grasp, he lets you go and all at once you feel like you’re drowning. He leaves your side only for a moment to reopen the door as a sign that a decision has been made. Several more excruciating minutes pass, but eventually Price reenters the office and again takes his seat. There is a gloom that sits in the room now like a fog and he knows without even having to ask that a decision has been reached and it is one that clearly was not reached happily.

“It’s over, sir,” Lt. Riley confirms with the short response; any more than that and he may fall apart.

Price nods in acknowledgement. “In that case, I think it best to send ya both out on separate missions very soon. It’ll show that action has been taken in case anything else comes from the allegations. I appreciate your cooperation in this matter; I know it could not have been easy.”

You nod back firmly in agreement and Lt. Riley does the same. 

Price quickly dismisses you both and you immediately bolt up from your seat to make it to the door in a flurry of quick steps, too overwhelmed by your emotions to sit still another second more beside the one thing you can no longer have. You can’t seem to catch your breath and even though you make it outside of the stifling atmosphere inside the office, it does not lessen. 

Your feet carry you forward to where you have no clue; there is no rational thought left with you right now. All you know is that you need to put distance between everything and everyone that you can before you shatter because it hurts like you are being torn in half from the inside and if you are going to rupture you want to do it where no one can see.

But grief is a volatile and disastrous thing; it consumes and destroys and confuses. Right now, your mind is scrambling to feel something other than the pain of your loss, any other emotion it can experience that won’t murder it and it settles on the emotion that is the opposite side of grief: anger.

Halfway across the site you spot that familiar mohawked head near the mess hall and a rage builds in you. You and Simon had speculated before about Johnny’s knowledge of your situation, what if he was the one that told Price? Intentional or not, what if he is the reason all this is destroyed? There is not a shred of proof, but your brain is desperate to find someone to blame, anyone to throw all your anger on and that just happens to be him. Before you can stop yourself, you are already bounding his way. 

Johny looks up as you come within earshot, turning his back to the building. “Hey, stranger, ‘aven’t seen ye ‘round much this weekend. Wonder why that is?” he says with a knowing smirk, but it drops from his face as he sees the look on yours. 

Without warning you grab Johnny by the collar and manhandle him until you are able to haul him forward and slam into the wall behind him, knocking the wind from his lungs as you crush him up against the concrete. “Was it you?” you spat the question with fury into his face. “Tell me now or so help me God…”

“What the fuckin’ hell are ye talkin’ ‘bout?” he asks back as he struggles under your tight grip around his collar. “Have ye lost yer mind?”

Blinded by rage, you pull him back only to shove him harder into the wall. “You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you say, the venom in your voice full of acid. “Were you the one that ran like a bitch to tattle on me to Price? You better have a fucking good reason why.”

Johnny pauses and stops struggling against your grip, confused. “Wait, what?” he asks. “Someone’s gone te Price ‘bout somethin’? Ye gotta explain everythin’ cause I don’t get it; seriously, what’s this about?”

The tone of his voice causes you to really discern the look in his eyes: he is genuinely confused by your statement. “You really don’t know what I’m talking about?” you question.

He shakes his head. “No and I’m bein’ serious.”

In the time you’ve known him, Johnny has always been straight with you and you do genuinely trust him to tell you the truth. He may be a pain in your ass sometimes, but honesty is always something that you have shared. If he says he doesn’t know, he must really not know.

“Tell me, what’s happened?” he asks, his brows drawn together as he stares back at you with serious concern. 

You choke back the emotion gathered in your throat as your eyes sting. No sense in hiding anything; he’d probably find out eventually anyway if gossip gets around. Besides, keeping this inside makes you feel like you’re rotting. “Price knows about what me and the lieutenant have been doing in secret and what we did while we were on our last mission,” you admit as you hang your head. 

Johnny is silent for a moment. “I fuckin’ knew it,” he says with a chuckle, which he immediately regrets as you pop your head up to give him a heated glare. “No, I… look, jus’ listen ta me for a moment.”

Releasing him from your grasp you take a step back, the anger subsiding to be replaced by an overwhelming sense of dread. Tears burn around the rims of your eyes at how lost you feel and how easily you are flying off the handle; it makes you worried. How are you meant to control this? How are you meant to survive?

Johnny straightens himself up and continues. “Yes, I knew ‘bout ye and the lieutenant…cause I was the one that orchestrated the whole setup. I seen tha way ye two kept eyein’ each other an’ I decided that ye both needed a push in tha right direction. Why the hell would I get ye together only ta get ye in trouble with Price?” 

You divert your gaze again. “Well, it’s all over now,” you can barely say aloud; just hearing yourself speak it into existence feels like being stabbed in the chest. “Whoever ratted us out is threatening to go above Price’s head if they need to. There’s nothing left for us to do, but end it or shit’s gonna get worse. It’s already done.”

Fuck, you can’t hold back for much longer and the last thing you need is to cry, but a pair of strong hands clasp around your shoulders to bring you back from the brink of your sadness. 

“Look,” Johnny tries to reassure as he is genuinely worried about your wellbeing. “I’ll figure out who it was that stuck their bloody nose in it, alright? Jus’ leave it ta me; I’ll get ye a name and hell, I’ll help ye gut the bastard if ye need. We’ll figure it out, honest.”

Somehow you don’t think anything will come of it, but at least it is something. Right now hope is a drug you have to take just to get through.

Days pass the same way with little variation in your mood. You try to stay as busy as you possibly can, filling your schedule to the brim with as much work as Price can give you. He doesn’t mention it, but everything he assigns you seems to keep you from even crossing paths with your former lover and for that you are grateful. Then a few days become a week and a week becomes two, but time does nothing to stop the ache in your chest and at the end of each day, when you return to your room and the quiet hits you, it’s impossible not to shed a few tears into your pillow as you pine for the company you once had. 

Thankfully mission assignments finally go out and you can spend your time consumed in preparation to depart to fill the void that settles in your chest. It’s a couple of days before you are meant to leave and information makes its way through the grapevine that Lt. Riley is headed out tonight with his team and god if it doesn’t kill you not even to get the chance to say goodbye.

You can’t even finish your lunch today; you are so upset by the news that you quickly toss your food into the trash and head out. You’re so wrapped in your thoughts you don’t even hear Johnny calling to you until he has caught up to you outside of the mess hall and is grabbing your elbow to drag you alongside him. Where are you going? You have no clue.   

“What are you doing?” you ask with annoyance, not up for whatever bullshit he’s trying to pull today. 

“Jus’ keep walkin’,” he says, his head constantly on a swivel as if he is looking for something. You try to protest, but it gets you nowhere as he keeps booking it across the base with you in hand until you both reach the munitions depot where he finally comes to a stop and lets you go. 

You look up at the building. “Why are we here?”

“Keep yer head and jus’ go inside,” Johnny says as he gives you a shove towards the door. “Ye only got a couple minutes, so ‘urry the hell up.”

You stare at him with a raised eyebrow. What the hell is he talking about? You really aren’t in the mood for his shit, but you also don’t have the energy in you to fight him on it; you let out a weighted huff and grab the handle, pulling it hard so that the door swings open and you head inside. 

“What the fuck am I supposed to be looking for?” you question yourself.

There is movement and you hear the sound of boot steps. “That would be me,” a gravelly voice sounds at your side, making you jump.  

You are thrown into respiratory distress as you turn around where you’re greeted with that familiar mask and its wearer is just standing within reach. “Simon,” you breathe his name like a prayer, forgetting decorum.

“Wrangled Mactavish inta helpin’ me, said he’d bring ya and guard the door,” Lt. Riley says as he stands there, unsure of what to do with his hands. “I-” he sighs, “I had ta see ya ‘fore I leave.” 

Suddenly the room is spinning and you can’t figure out which way is up. After the agonizing chasm of space that has been put between you it is disorienting to be this close again and you aren’t sure what to do. Do you run into his arms? Do you keep your distance?

It doesn’t make sense.

“I know I shouldn’t have brought ya ‘ere like this,” he says, “but I…missed ya.” He pauses and sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose through the mask. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’. I’m supposed ta follow orders no questions asked, but…” 

Standing there, waiting on bated breath, you stare back at him with those big doe eyes until you are able to speak and break the silence. “But what?”

More silence follows your question as he steps closer and closer and closer. Then he stops and there are only inches between your bodies. He reaches out his hand and the backs of his gloved fingers brush against your own with a touch so delicate it doesn’t seem humanly possible, most of all from someone like the lieutenant. 

“Priorities are changin’,” he admits as he takes your hand into his grasp hesitantly, eyes unable to look anywhere but at the connection as if he isn’t sure if he should touch you at all. “I never experienced somethin’ like this before. I don’t know what the fuck to do.” 

“Are you saying you want to go against Price?” 

His sight lingers on your conjoined hands as his jaw shifts under the mask, struggling to find the words. As he clears his throat, his gaze finally draws back to your face to meet your eyes. He doesn’t have to say anything, you can read the sentiment in his gaze: he is being tortured by being forced to choose between his duty to this task force and what he wants above all else. 

“Listen, yeah? As long as we follow orders, we get ta stay near each other. Fight it and who knows what the fuck’ll happen. I…” he pauses, the pain of confession hard to stand, “I don’t know if I can risk not bein’ able to see ya at all, sweetheart. Even just a glimpse cross the way.”

“You think that is better than one of us leaving?” you want to ask, but the question dies on your tongue and in its place is only a bitter taste in your mouth. 

You know if you say anything at all it’s only going to make it harder- for the both of you. You are just two soldiers bound by a need to do what is right and nothing is going to change that. Fuck do you want to scream, to rage at what you are being strong-armed into doing against your will, yet your exterior stays a calm mask against the storm inside. The situation puts you between a rock and a hard place and though you don’t want to admit it he is ultimately right; if all you get is to have nothing or what you had before all this mess started, then you would choose the latter.

At least you can still be around one another; at least you can still see him. Even if every time you do it is going to shatter your heart all over again.

Lt. Riley feels like he is being ripped apart as he catches the agonizing pain in your eyes. “I need ya ta know, if circumstances were different…” 

You stop him before he can say more by gently placing your hand against his covered lips; you cannot bear to hear anything else about ‘what ifs’ and ‘maybes’. It’s too painful right now to dream. Accepting reality is the only thing that is going to help you survive now. The lieutenant’s eyes drop to the floor as he comes to terms with the fact that some things are better left unsaid. 

Removing your hand from the fabric of his mask, you can feel that recognizable mass welling in your throat and you know you are going to have to leave soon or risk him seeing you cry. That is an image you don’t want to leave him with, not if this is what he has to see before he goes.

“I’m glad I got to see you before you leave,” you say while forcing your best smile for him. “It was hard thinking you’d leave and I wouldn’t get to say goodbye at least.”

He nods as he cups your cheek. “Ya be safe, yeah?” 

You lean into his touch and close your eyes; god, it’s hard not to enjoy his touch. “You too.” 

Time is slipping away fast like sand through a sieve and he knows that you only have a few short minutes left that you will go unnoticed so he blurts out the question that sits on the tip of his tongue and he can’t stop it from coming out. “One last kiss?” he asks, though he hates himself for doing so.

A ragged breath is pushed out of your lungs as your eyes flutter open. The question is surprising, but you already know the answer; you can’t say no because to deny him would mean denying yourself and your heart won’t let you. His hands paw at your face as his eyes beg. 

Your heartbeats mesh together as you press your body against his until they become one rhythm. He keeps his hands locked to your face as you reach up and slip the bottom of his mask up over his lips and rest it on top of his nose. It feels like you are holding your breath and time stops as you again capture his unwavering stare.   

“Make it count,” you breathe.

You can feel the shudder from his desperate inhale as he collapses into you like the burst from a dying star, crashing his fiery kiss onto your mouth with an intensity that makes your knees buckle, but he has you. His arms keep you up as he aggressively steals your lips over and over again, pinning his mouth on yours until it burns, stealing your breath, tasting your kiss, letting that gnawing ache that had been festering in his heart eat him alive.   

His intensity is matched with your own as you kiss him back with everything that you have. You need the feeling of his lips to be imprinted on yours for as long as they can and you push so hard he cannot catch air. But just as quickly as it started, it has to end.

“Eh, ye need ta ‘urry guys,” the sound of Soaps voice calls from the door, forcefully thrusting you both back into reality. Lt. Riley grips around your biceps and pries himself from you with everything he has and with that he bounds away as you fall to your knees and enfold your arms around yourself like a hug, the tears streaming down your cheeks in heavy, engorged droplets. 

He is gone.

The time away does nothing to ease the pain of your separation. Being off base makes your absence in his life even more prominent. You are in his head constantly after that last kiss, haunting him like a ghost that he cannot get rid of and though he knows he should, part of him won’t let go; he can’t. No, that’s not entirely it. Even if he could let go, he won’t.

The lieutenant’s days spent on assignment pass by agonizingly slow and he begins to realize that as much as he enjoys what he does, that it is no longer holding the same importance in his heart as it once did. That feeling has been replaced by something else and that is the way he felt with you. He had thrown everything outside of work to the wayside because never believed that he would get a chance at bits of normalcy in his life. Until you…

What if he is throwing away something that could fulfill him more than his work with the 141? Could he live with that? Whenever he finds himself with a free moment, he spends them silently contemplating that question, mulling it over incessantly in his mind even though he keeps returning to the same conclusion: he can’t live with it. 

He would rather regret leaving all this behind if it meant he could be with you than to regret letting you slip through his fingers. And he desperately wants to tell you that he finally knows what to do.

The thought eats at him until one night, as he lays awake staring at the pitch black ceiling, he can no longer take it and without thinking he is digging through his pack to grab his cell phone and just like that the small, square device is in his hand and he is turning it on. As the light pierces through the darkness, missed call after missed call pops up on the screen all from… Mactavish?  

It’s only been off for a few hours. What the fuck is going on?

Lt. Riley hurriedly moves himself into a quiet corner away from the others sleeping and quickly redials the number. The repetitive ringing continues until they instantaneously stop and the young sergeant answers with an urgency in his tone that makes the lieutenant’s heartbeat pound in his ears.

“LT, fuck, been tryin’ te get a hold a ye fer a while now,” Soap says over the receiver. “Don’t ye ever answer yer god damn phone?”

The lieutenant tries to speak quietly so that he won’t draw any prying ears into eavesdropping on this conversation. “What the hell sergeant? Ya think I just have all the fuckin’ time to chitchat?”

Soap ignores the lieutenant’s agitation; this is more important and he is risking a lot by even having this conversation at all, so it’s gotta be quick. “ ‘Ave ye spoken te Price? Laswell? Anyone back ‘ere?” he asks as if insisting on a swift answer.

“No,” Lt. Riley confirms. “Haven’t had a need. Why?”

“Fuck, so no one’s said anythin’ te ye yet?” Soap questions as if the fact is distressing him.

“ ‘Bout what? Today, Mactavish,” Lt. Riley says with a hint of unchecked panic in his voice. Nothing about how Mactavish sounds is making the lieutenant feel any better, not the way whatever it is has him flustered like this. 

“We ‘ave a situation,” he says firmly and what comes out of his mouth next makes the usually calm and collected lieutenant nearly drop his phone as his entire body goes numb. “The sergeant and her team deployed right after ye, as ye know… all was fine until a few days ago.”

Simon can’t breathe as Soap finishes his sentence. “...we’ve lost contact…they’re all currently MIA.”

Tag list: @flameohotpotatooo @shadowtfpcod @xnyx1n @igotmajordaddyissues @essentialbeats-blog @mishaglass

[calicoheartz]

please please write a smut fic inspired by that that pic of caitlin with her hair wet 🙏🙏

Wild & Wet ; Caitlin Clark ᶻz

꣑୧ — summary | cait w wet hair makes u go absolutely feral !

wc ; 891

— warnings | NSFW under the cut! read ur own risk ! ab riding , dirty talk , scissoring, etc

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : tysm for all the love on my last cc nsfw fic ! tried to make this one a little bit more interesting for yall, enjoy !

There was something about your girlfriend with wet hair that made you go absolutely feral. You didn’t know how to even explain, there was just something about it that gave you a little problem that only she could fix.

So it wasn’t surprising that when Cait came back from a victorious win , she would hop in the shower and go about her entire self care routine, one of which involved her washing her luscious locks.

This didn’t concern you, I mean you loved the way your girlfriend smelt after a shower. It was what came after that concerned you.

She kissed your forehead gently, mumbling a “im gonna go shower and then im all yours,” you nodded at this, as the brunette turned away and headed towards your shared bathroom.

Around 30 minutes later, you heard the water shut off, and a pair of familiar footsteps headed towards your bedroom, with the door creaking slightly as it was opened.

You wished you could save this moment forever, the sight of your girlfriend standing in the doorway with a towel wrapped around her neck, her hair wet and sticking to her face slightly, as she adorned her signature black sports bra and matching sweats.

You grinned at her slightly, as she plopped onto the space beside you, immediately bringing your face to hers as she began to softly pepper your face with kisses. You took this as an opportunity to crawl into her lap, facing her directly as silence followed.

Your hands planted on her chest, palms accidentally pressed against her nipples as you try to gain more leverage. You looked at her with a loving gaze, as the brunette gives you a smirk in reply. “Someone missed me.” she chirped, causing a pink haze to form on your cheeks, as her hands made their way to your sides. Moving them up and down lovingly, earning a whimper from you.

Your head drops slightly, eyes screwed shut as you rock your hips back and forth slowly. Your arousal glistening on her skin, leaking through the grooves of her abs. The prettiest sounds fall from your mouth as she gently massages your thighs that are pressed against the sides of her torso.

“Yeah. Yeah, just like that. Yeah, keep moving your hips like that. Youre so fucking pretty-ohmyfuckinggod” the brunette mumbles out, her voice low and raspy from her own wetness pooling inside her.

Your whimpers progressively getting louder and louder as you torturously overstimulated yourself on your girlfriends abs.

Cait quickly flips you over onto your back, her tall frame towering over you as she asks, “are you going to be a good girl and let me do whatever I want to you?” you not eagerly at this, desperate for any friction against your cold, anything to solve the mess happening in your panties.

She tugs at your panties, giving her a nod of approval, she slowly slips them off you and discards them somewhere in your shared bedroom.

The brunette slowly opens your legs, and situates herself on top of you, discarding her own boxers in the process.

She begins slowly rubbing her pretty clit against yours, as she watched in awe how drunk you were from it. So so so submissive for her, being such a good girl for her as she took your tongue in her mouth, engaging in a deep but fiery kiss. “Mm…cait-” you said, pornographic moans escaping your lips as you gripped her shoulders, grinding against her.

“Hm? What is it my sweet girl?” her voice traveling through your ears, making you wetter by the way she spoke. “Feels s’good ohmygoddd” – “I know, you make me feel just as good- fuck”, your exchange cut off by how horribly sloppy the situation was, you were horribly wet. Embarrassing actually. But you couldn’t help it, she looked so good. With her hair down, a few strands sticking to her forehead as her pretty lips parted to let out the cutest and muffled sounds. She looked so good, her muscular arms flexing as she holds herself up, continuing to massage her pussy against yours.

Less than two minutes later you feel your orgasm approaching, as juices bursted out of you so quickly, you could no longer tell which belonged to you.

Caitlin licks her lips as she sees your face contorting with pleasure as she helps you ride out your high, as you throw your head back and groan.

“Good job, baby.” Caitlin says between breaths as she climbed off your shared bed, walking over to the dresser to steady yourself. You laid flat on the bed, reminiscing on the best orgasm of your life, staring at your beautiful girlfriend. The brunette gathers her breath, and turns to face you, her goddess-like build flooding your line of sight. She smirks, before walking over back to the bed as she takes your hand, kisses it gently, and smiles back at you.

“Such a good girl for me, you did so well” she soothes, as you roll over closer to her. She climbs into the bed fully and holds you in her arms, as you laid there in silence, resting your head on her chest. You lean in for a kiss, as the brunette mumbles out a tired “I love you”, you giggle in between kisses,

“I love you more.”

what it finna play?? WOAHHHH !!!! probably my favorite nsfw/suggestive fic to date. Chefs kiss ! As always , tysm for reading 💌

[littlefireball]

Please can you do a San x Reader period sex like f**k away the pain. Pretty pretty please. But she's a squirter and doesn't know it. Nor has she ever had sex on her period so she thinks he will be disgusted etc?

~🐶~

Okay!! Here you go😎

ᴄꜱ|ᴡʀᴏɴɢ ᴀꜰꜰᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ (ᴍ)

ᴋɴɪɢʜᴛ ꜱᴀɴ x ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx|ᴄʜᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ (ɢᴏᴏᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴛ)|ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇᴅ ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ||ꜱᴀɴ ʜᴀꜱ ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ᴍɪɴᴅ|ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ|ᴄᴏɴꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.6ᴋ

Fk away the pain series

Masterlist

As a tool for political marriage, one cannot anticipate affection, nor should one expect genuine concern from a spouse. Were it not for the strategic interests binding the two nations, this man would be entirely irrelevant to your existence. His daily companions are hardly the epitome of refinement, and witnessing him engage in earnest labor is a rare occurrence.

More often than not, he is either indulging in drink or entangled with various women, showing little regard for the responsibilities of royalty. Externally, you are burdened with the fallout from his indiscretions, while internally, you grapple with an overwhelming array of duties.

When frustration envelops you, you often escape to the garden beneath the night sky, relishing the tranquil beauty of the deserted space. Although you initially sought solitude, you cannot seem to shake off San, your husband’s knight. His stern presence has become a point of annoyance for your spouse, prompting him to assign San to you. Initially, you were indifferent to his company, yet there are times when his unwavering attention feels a bit stifling.

"Your highness, you drink too much." San once more cautious you against excessive drinking, emphasizing its detrimental effects on your health.

"It's okay, San. I'm not drunk. See, the moon is beautiful." As you lean back, your head cradles in your hands, you admire the luminous moon, a soft breeze caressing your face as you swing. "Hey, San. Push me." "Yes, Your Highness." A resigned sigh escapes San's lips, for his only recourse is to comply with your wishes and ensure your safety.

The enchanting aroma that surrounds you captivates him, causing him to gulp nervously whenever he draws near. He's powerless to resist. You radiate beauty, courage, and intelligence, surpassing every girl he's encountered. As you lean your head against the headrest, your head brushes against San's stomach with every gentle pull of the swing. Oops, something bad pops up in his mind.

"Hey, San. Do you like someone?" Your words make him pause, hesitating for a moment before he resumes pushing the swing. "Your Highness, why do you suddenly bring this up?" As you open your eyes, you catch his anxious gaze. "It's time for you to think about marriage." "I…I'm…not ready for that." You raise an eyebrow and gently hold his face, which he tries to shy away from, his cheeks turning a bright shade of red. "Or do you prefer boys? That boy named Wooyoung?" "No, no! I like girls!" He grips your hands tightly, his nerves overwhelming him, fearful that you might have misunderstood his intentions.

"Kidding." A playful smirk crosses your face, a rare pause in your hectic schedule, and he's completely enchanted. He might not remember the exact moment he fell for you, but one thing is clear: he will do everything for you, no matter what.

"So, you have feelings for someone?" He bites his lip and nods slightly. "Oh, that girl must be lucky. Who is she?" "Your Highness, do you really think she's lucky?" "Why do you ask?" "Because… she was forced into a marriage with a man who didn't love her, burdened with all the royal responsibilities that were never meant for her." You release your hold on his face, the realization dawning that he's speaking of someone you know all too well─yourself.

"Maybe you may think she's not lucky." Lowering your head, you clench your fist, stammer. "But…I think she's lucky because she has someone who likes her." Both of you fall into silence, only the sound of breathing can be heard. His face remains hidden from view, leaving you uncertain if your words are causing him any distress.

San, your devoted knight, holds a unique place in your heart. In moments of peril, he is always the first to shield you, to rescue you, and to reassure you of your safety. Unlike others who seem preoccupied with the life of your so-called husband, San's loyalty runs deeper.

Initially, you believed his actions stemmed solely from duty, yet they often blur the lines of propriety. Who else would allow a princess to rest her head on his shoulder, shedding tears into the night? Who would clasp her hand in a moment of vulnerability? He understands he should maintain distance, yet he finds himself unable to resist the pull of closeness.

"I…I wanna go back." Silence. "S…San?" As you pivot, he unexpectedly envelops your eyes with his large hand, leaning in to press his lips against yours. His warm breath lingers on your skin, mingling with his gentle caress, catching you completely off guard. Time seems to stand still; the distant chirping of birds and the gentle breeze fade away, leaving only the soft pop of his departure from your lips.

"I… I beg your pardon…" He withdraws his hand, avoiding your gaze. Words elude you, the whirlwind of emotions overwhelming your senses. "N-nothing…" You stammer, the feelings swelling within you struggling to escape the tight confines of your throat, leaving you with only that single utterance. "Just go back." Your eyes meet his, filled with a profound disappointment, extinguishing the spark that once ignited within him.

"I shall summon the maid to escort Your Highness to your chamber. I deeply regret my actions." San turns away, leaving you in solitude upon the swing.

-------

Not long ago, an exquisite invitation graced your presence, beckoning you to a lavish dinner party hosted by the illustrious Kingdom of the Far West, in honor of the joyous arrival of the king and queen's precious baby girl. Should your rapport with the royal family be strong, attending this splendid affair would be a matter of course. However, the kingdom's secluded location presents a considerable journey, and while this is a minor inconvenience, the true challenge lies in the discomfort of your period pain.

"Goodness…" A sharp hiss escapes your lips as the agony in your stomach intensifies. The painkillers you've been relying on seem utterly ineffective now, as if they've lost their power over time. Perhaps your body has grown accustomed to their presence, rendering them useless in your battle against this relentless discomfort.

"Your Highness." The sound of a knock at the door draws your attention, and San's icy voice echoes in your mind. Ever since that fateful day, a chasm has formed between you, with him deliberately steering clear of you. You yearn to reach out and clarify things, but your hectic schedule keeps you from doing so. Frustration wells up inside you, and you can't help but loathe yourself for it.

True to form, he had the limousine door swung wide open, patiently waiting for you to slide into the seat. You stifled the unease bubbling inside and offered him a smile, yet he feigned ignorance, as if he hadn't noticed. Internally, you berated yourself for being so distant in your reaction. The truth was, you were at a loss for words at that moment. Despite the mutual affection between you, the differences in your identities loomed large, creating an undeniable barrier.

San sits across from you, deliberately averting his eyes or shutting them to escape your gaze. A yearning to engage him stirs within you, yet the weight of your anguish holds you captive. The constricting embrace of the seatbelt heightens your discomfort, prompting you to release it, hoping that San may not notice it.

"Kindly secure your seat belt, Your Highness." "Blast it," you mutter, prompting San to arch an eyebrow at your unexpected cursing. "It is for your protection, Your Highness." "I'm not feeling well, okay? I don't want to buckle it." Your sharp retort takes him by surprise, as it is uncommon to witness your ire, save for matters concerning your so-called husband or during your period.

"Would you care for some pain relief, Your Highness?" "It's useless." You sulk, a blend of annoyance and delight washing over you as he finally engages in conversation. "However, you insist on securing your seat belt first, despite its discomfort." "No way." You fold your arms defiantly, resembling a petulant child, prompting San to exhale deeply as he approaches you, the limousine stops.

"What are you doing?" "Assist you to fasten the seat belt, Your Highness." Just as his hands move toward the seat belt, the limousine starts up, causing his balance to falter and his entire form to lurch forward into you. His face falls into the crook of your neck with both of your chest pressing against each other, causing blushes creeping up your faces and something hard sinks between your thighs.

The moment he hits you hard makes you crave for more, wanting him to collide with you harder and deeper until you reach your limitations. You can't help but doubt if it is normal to be horny during your period.

"I apolo…" Just as he prepares to depart, you draw him into a fervent embrace, your breath a soft whisper against his ear. "Do you recall the vow you made when you pledged yourself as my knight?" "I would move mountains for you, come what may." Your fingers curl into a fist, the pressure of your nails biting into your skin, leaving crimson impressions on your palm. "Is that promise still binding today?" "The vow endures for eternity, Your Highness." "Then do me a favor."

You draw him into an ardent kiss, surrendering to the moment without hesitation. His eyes flash with astonishment, yet he swiftly gathers himself, allowing his eyelids to flutter shut. With a deft motion, he slips his hand beneath you, pivoting your form to nestle you upon his lap as he takes his place on the seat.

"I've loved you for so long." He whispers against your chest, placing a tender kiss before rising to lock eyes with you. You cradle his face, bestowing a delicate kiss upon his lips. "Me too. I'm sorry for that day." As your words resonate, tears glisten in his eyes, a silent understanding passing between you. Without hesitation, he closes the gap, capturing your lips in a kiss that is both tender and fervent, his tongue dancing with yours, leaving a trail of warmth that drips down your chin.

You both part from each other, unbuckling San's belt to free his cock, latching back on each other to a passionate kiss. Gently tucking your hair behind your ears, his lips meet yours before moving down to your neck, inhaling his favourite scent while leaving a trail of red marks on that. "Others may see." "I want to show them." Giggled, you wrap your arms around his board shoulder and slightly lift up yourself to let him slide down your pants and underwear.

"I'm on my period…" "It doesn't matter cuz I love everything about you." He sucks on your collarbone after a tender kiss. "You are exaggerating." Smile at your light patting on his chest, he takes out a condom from his pocket and tears the package by his teeth. "You have it?" "Just be prepared for the unpredictable, just like now." His strong arms move to your thighs, pushing you up to aim at his arched member. "San…" You stop him by gripping his shoulder. "It's dirty…" "I said I love everything about you. It's okay, princess." Pulling you closer to him, you slowly sink down after he is wrapped up.

It is your first time. Everything is overwhelming once his hard tip thrust into your emptiness, rub against your wall deliciously. "Gosh…" Your head falls into his neck, shutting your eyes tightly. "It's okay, just take it slow." He murmurs, leaving a broken kiss on your neck as a comfort. Thanks to your blood, adjusting his huge size is not as difficult as you imagine. He starts to thrust upward as you grip his shoulder tightly, stopping each time for a while after another push.

"You're so deep." You struggle with your breath with an open mouth even if it is not intense at all. The period pain seemed to be hard for you to enjoy. "Let me help you, babe." His arm wraps around your small frame, laying you back against the seat without pulling out. "Is it better?" You respond with a nod as he plants a soft kiss on your lips, a warm smile gracing his face. One hand steadies himself on the seat while the other rests on your waist, sliding in and out at a steady pace. You tilt your head back, and he showers your skin with kisses, leaving a trail of marks that declare to the world that you belong to him.

"He doesn't deserve you." He confesses while continuing to roll his hips into you, making your back rub against the seat from his movement. "I wanna claim you as mine if I could. I won't let you down, won't let you do all the work." Guiding your palm to his lips, he gives peck on it while locking his eyes with you.

"It's enough if you're on my side." You respond. He claims you into a deep kiss while drawing his hips, shoving your spot as he pushes in. You let out a soft whimper and wrap your legs around his waist, allowing him to slide deeper. The pain fades away and is replaced by endless pleasure. Both of your moaning become so loud but the driver can't hear anything because of the barrier between the driver and passenger.

"I'm so close." His thrusting becomes fast enough to ruin you, numbness runs throughout both of your bodies. He let out a low growl and bite on your neck, the pain and the pleasure push you over the edge. "San…san!I'm…oh my god.." You can't even form a complete sentence and his name is the only thing in your mind. Stomach tightened, something is about to burst out and you have no idea how to describe it. Only moaning and screaming can vest the overwhelming sensation.

"Oh fuck!" With a loud cursing, you squirt all and wet San's pants. "Oh my god, I am sorry." "Goodness, you squirted." He chuckles and his cock twitches from your warmth. "So close, babe." With a quick thrust, he finally cums in the condom and rests his forehead on yours, huffs. "Ride me next time." You pat his chest and giggle, slowly calm down from the excitement.

"Let's clean up." He helps you dress up and clean the seat to ensure there is no evidence left in the limousine, apart from his pants. "Hmm…maybe you can change?" "But my luggage is in another car. He caresses your head as a comfort. "It's okay, it will dry later on."

"Just…" He leans closer to rub against your chin with his thumb. "Tell me if you have to cum as I won't be gentle next time." You blink several times as if you can't believe what you heard.

"How can you say this without feeling shy?"

"Well." He grabs your chin so that you turn to face him.

"Isn't you to ask me to fuck you first?"

"I didn't say that!"

"But you said do you a favor."

"Shut up or I'll throw you out of the car." "Are you willing?" You pout as you know you never want.

"Kidding, cutie." He pecked on your lips, a dimple plays on his face as he smiles. "Even if you throw me out of the car, I'll find you and stick with you. You can't get rid of me."

"Is it a horror movie?" "No, no. It's a romantic movie." He cups your face as he leans in to kiss you. A soft moan escapes your lips, prompting him to deepen the kiss, his tongue intertwining with yours in a dance of desire.

At that moment, you just want the time to freeze.

[burquillos]

diluven misses you and so to do i miss it 😔

Will you accept this drabble I have in my notes:

"Don't you like the bard?"

"Whether I like the bard or not hardly accounts for whether I should pursue him or not."

"Actually, I think liking the bard is all the reason you need to pursue him."

Diluc let's out a tired sigh. He doesn't want to have to explain Venti's kind of secret alter ego to Kaeya of all people. He's exhausted. He wants to go home.

But things have been going well with Kaeya lately and he was happy when they started opening up to each other again on this particular night. Well, up until Kaeya opened up the conversation about his love life. Kaeya had always pestered him about it, even as a kid. Both him and his father, ever the romantics.

Though annoyed, he appreciates the sentiment because he knows it comes from a place of genuine concern. Keaya wants reassurance that he will be fine and that someone will take care of him and love him even when him and his father aren't there. Knowing Kaeya, not wanting him to be alone is deeply valuable. However...

"It's complicated" Diluc scowls.

Kaeya leans on his forearm on the counter. He looks at Diluc, unamused.

"You like him. You obviously want to be with him. And from the looks of it he likes you back. What's so complicated about that?"

Diluc doesn't respond but he can feel a slight tingling on his fingertips and his cheeks as he stands there tense and frozen.

Kaeya closes his eyes in contemplation, "Ah..I see."

"What?"

"Master Ragnvindr of the Dawn Winery must not be seen engaging in romantic affairs with a mere commoner. How tragic-"

"No."

It was out before he knew it. Said too fast and too defensively to be considered casual. Like letting a part of himself accidentally slip from his tight grasp.

Kaeya couldn't have been more wrong. Venti is far from a mere commoner. His identity as Barbatos is... holy and powerful. The kind of being who can move mountains, literally and figuratively. His whole life he tried to be worthy of only two people and that included his late father and Barbatos.

But even that pales in comparison to Venti himself; kind and compassionate, cunning when he needs to be, he brings joy and laughter to the people of Mondsatdt with his songs. He listens to his people and guides them into action, never hesitating to reach out to others, even a person like him who has built walls around himself.

Venti has a way of seeing through him but has never once used it against him. He keeps the hidden, little pieces of Diluc tucked away and keeps it safe.

He wants to believe that there is something special about that. That that kind of treatment is something Venti gives to him and him alone.

But he knows Venti's love is grand and extends far and wide over Mondsatdt and its citizens. He knows he's nothing more but a speck among countless others that recieve that kind of godly love from him.

As a protector of Mondsatdt, he cannot afford to be selfish with Venti's love, not when Mondstadt needs it more than him. He is quite well off in terms of status and wealth after all. Honestly, Diluc is quite content to love from afar.

In the end, all he could mutter was a soft "He's too good for me..."

Kaeya barks out a laugh, slamming his hand on the table and leaning back. "VENTI!?" he wipes a tear from his eye "You're saying this about Venti?! The drunkard?? The guy who regularly schemes his way for some apples and booze??"

"You know what I mean."

"No. I don't"

"Well I'm not tired enough to have this conversation."

"Fair enough."

Kaeya leaves a few coins on the counter then stands up to leave. Before he could exit the door, he turns back to Diluc. "For the record, he said the same thing about you being too good for him." Finally, he leaves.

Diluc is left staring at the door. He can't quite believe that statement. He's not looking down on himself or anything, he knows he's quite sought after, he even uses that as an advantage when negotiating sometimes.

It's just that, compared to Venti who shines brightly and whose smile literally lights up the room, he feels like such a downer in comparison.

Once upon a time in his life, he might've had the same smile too, but he's changed since then. He's not the golden child with a loving family running around Mondstadt fulfilling his dreams anymore. His fire has long ceased to be kind and burns with rage and vindication instead. He feels as if he can't have that smile back. That if Venti stands next to him and gives him a little grin he can't smile back with the warmth and kindness he deserves. That all Venti would see is a broken man.

He feels too bare with Venti and that is something he cherishes deeply and also something he dreads.

[lightningonatether]

Why c!endersmile were actually friends

ALTERNATIVELY TITLED: my crazy thesis on two bad bitches with not a single moment of screentime fueled purely by my own insanity

ALTERNATIVELY alternatively titled: to all loreheads please be nice i dont usually lorepost. feel free to engage though

So my return is courtesy of litchi, who mentioned c!endersmile like once a month ago, and got me thinking about them so hard I couldn't just walk away.

Namely, litchi reminded me of a few theories I have concerning c!endersmiles relationship, that I developed back when i was watching the SMP live. This might make my recollection of some events a little fuzzy, but everything should be canon compliant cause I was thinking about all this as I watched.

I was already watching ranboo pretty regularly at the point the prison arc started, I cant resist a really weird guy with horrible debilitating anxiety. I already thought the whole hearing dreams voice in his head was really interesting, but as the prison arc evolved it became clear that ranboos relationship with dream wasnt just some hallucination inside ranboos head and actually had some substance.

My theory really started to develop into what it is now with the explosions on the prison roof which led to the lockdown and tommys death; these were confirmed to be set by ranboo in his enderwalk state. He was one of the only people online at the time, ranboo found tnt in his inventory afterwards, and I think dream also told sam he knew ranboo did it at some point, although I can't find the exact stream.

At that point it was obvious that enderwalking ranboo held a different set of beliefs, alliances, and likely more memories than the "awake" ranboo we saw most of the time on streams, and was acting against amnesiac ranboos wishes. The explosions above the prison along with the reveal that ranboo had been regularly visiting dream in prison confirmed that dream and ender!ranboo were some sort of allies.

At the time, my assumption was that ranboo had simply made an attempted prison break. It wouldnt be a stretch to assume, if ranboo had visited regularly, that he would have noticed the poor conditions and tried to break his ally out. However, after the confirmation of the staged finale, and a better look at cdreams motivations(wanting to provide protection for punz, separating himself very publicly from his only known ally to keep them safe) the idea that enderwalk ranboo, an ally of dreams, would go against dreams explicit wishes to stay locked in that prison began making less sense.

It would only make sense if either:

enderwalk never knew about the plan or

enderwalk knew about the plan but went against it anyway

1 is a very tempting explanation. c!dream rarely lets anyone close. even punz, who knew the plan intimately, wasn't aware of dreams true motivations to bring the server back to a peaceful time before conflict. but..... it didnt sit right with me.

Two reasons for this: I know some people may have stopped watching/never watched ranboo lore, but towards the end of the prison arc, ranboo began seeing flashes of "lessons" appear on screen. These lessons all had that utilitarian and paranoid feel a lot of dreams actions/reasoning have, like "dont trust anybody"(paraphrasing, thats just what i remember the core of that message being) or "never hesitate to gain a favor from someone, you can use it to get something from them later". anyone remember technos favor to dream? It was heavily implied these lessons were meant to be from dream, directed at c!enderwalk. This would mean the two spent a significant amount of time together. not only that, dream was sharing his *life philosophy* with ender!ranboo. thats not just something dream would share with anyone, and implies a close allyship at the least. its almost like he was teaching a pupil. yeah, sure, some of his lessons were a little fucked up and weird in that dream sort of way, but he was looking out for the kid. and it seems that enderwalk wasnt hesitant to act on those lessons either. he promised to keep a shulker safe for foolish, gaining a favor, and didnt sign a single one of those prison visitation waivers, on top of sam discovering they were corrupted into enderian when he checked LMAO.

This alone would be enough to persuade me enderwalk HAD to have been let in on the plan, at least so he wouldnt cause any problems (such as trying to get his ally out of prison).

but the other reason is... ranboos stated philosophy against conflict. he doesnt like sides, he wishes they wouldn't exist. I remember watching a stream and nearly jumping out of my seat when he told chat he just wished the server could just be one big happy family! because that is nearly word for word what a bunch of loreheads were saying about dreams motivations at the time(and now obviously lmao). if we keep in mind their contact for those "lessons", ranboos visits to dream in prison, AND the fact that dreams and ranboos motivations coincide on a level even Above dream and punzs(punz seemed to have been unaware of and also not particularly motivated by dreams wish for peace) i cant really imagine dream not letting this guy in on the plan.

which leaves us with 2) ranboo tried to break dream out against dreams wishes.

Maybe ranboo was just an ally and chickened out after he saw dreams mistreatment in prison and went against the plan, but... dream missed him after sam barred him from visiting. he asked sapnap to deliver a note to ranboo(just a smiley face, likely with the hopes of triggering an enderwalk) despite fearing for his ally punz enough to lock himself in prison. it feels reminicent to how dream sounds when he comments on george not visiting him once. like he missed a friend despite trying so hard to separate himself from the ones he'd had.

Maybe ranboo tried to break in because he saw a friend being mistreated, and couldn't leave the plan stand.

And that kind of makes sense doesn't it? that dream, someone whos paranoid about how peoples connection to him puts them in danger, would choose an amnesiac who spends most of their time terrified of dream, and wouldnt remember any of his plans or their friendship to use against either of them in the first place?

[yuurivoice]

Saw a goofball post about ASMR Roleplay, romantic plots, narratives, etc. and so on.

Let me share some of my philosophy with you as someone in this game for 7 years, 150k subs on YouTube, and who turned this into a lucrative business for himself. I say all that not to flex, but to assure you that maybe I know a little bit about what I'm talking about.

Audio Roleplays, ASMR Roleplay, etc and so forth is not some sort of rigid, strict thing. If you believe that content in this niche has to adhere to strict rules, structure, and expectations, you've already entered into this with strange expectations because there is such a vast array of ways you can go about presenting this content.

Some of it is slice of life moments in time with an assumed relationships between character and listener. Before narrative audios started to pick up steam, or rather, a handful of folks (myself included) developed followings centered on original characters and stories, the vast majority of creators in this space were just doing snippets of experiences. And, in case you were unaware, that approach is wildly successful. Boyfriend Experiences, audio smut, etc. has a much wider appeal at this time because a listener can drop right in and enjoy it.

If you have somehow deluded yourself into thinking that every audio has to adhere to strict narrative rules, be defined by conflict, or things happening beyond whatever the vibe calls for, you're willfully putting yourself and the niche in a box. Which is fine, but seeing people piss and moan about it is strange.

My approach has been to blend narrative series along with one-shots. One-shots serve as super self indulgent audios that aren't tied to the narrative and allow listeners to engage with some of their favorite characters they fell in love with in the narrative without furthering the plot.

Sometimes I play the game, explore tropes and clichés that are popular for the sake of taking a crack at it. Because it brings in new listeners who then become fans of my narrative work and creates genuine supporters of my passion projects.

And ya know? It fucking works. It works really well. I can drop a very straightforward, stripped down comfort audio with Alphonse like I did today and move listeners to tears. And then we can continue on with BitterSweet when I'm good and ready. It keeps the channel running, keeps the audience engaged, and keeps me working.

The bigger point here is that creators should be able to approach their work as they see fit, without concerns about goofballs with strange expectations and standards dictating to them what is and is not valid. You wanna know what's valid? Creating shit that you like, that the people who support you like. However you achieve that is all good in my book.

Having some goofy ass superiority complex about how people play pretend with pretty voices is strange behavior. I'm proud that my community has never flung that kind of nonsense around, and I'm speaking on it to affirm that kind of stance for the folks who rock with me.

If you're a listener who has recently stumbled into this niche, I implore you to explore, listen to others, find what you like and enjoy it because you enjoy it. There are countless people making audio content these days and there's no wrong way to do it, never has been. There's something for everyone, and if someone tries to tell you otherwise, be wary.

I'm not about negative nonsense, not about tribalism or putting down one person over another. Lift up your faves and share why you appreciate them and their style. But petulant bickering and shitting on others because of something as trivial as audio content? Nahhhh. If I catch anyone spouting nonsense like that in my name, I try and snuff it out as fast as possible because that's not how my shit is built.

If you are someone who fucks with me and my work but has had some opinions like that, I implore you to chill because none of this has ever been that serious. I want people to enjoy what they want to enjoy because for the love of fuck, life is too short to try and grandstand over this silly little niche. Or please get all the way away from me and my people.

Deuces. ✌️

[sitp-recs]

i bet you've seen this one plenty of times before, but:

can you rec some drarry fics where jealousy is an important motif? it can be infidelity if they're an established couple, or just getting with someone else while the two of them are dancing around one another. would be great to see recs both where harry is jealous and where draco is jealous. i prefer a happy ending, but i'll be grateful either way.

since i'm here let me also say i admire what you do, your incredible ability to recall and sort through so many stories. this fandom is lucky to have you! <3

Hello friend! Thank you for the kind words, I really appreciate it ❤️ here are some fics centered on jealousy. I did a few other lists for this trope over the years, you can find them here, here and here.

Jealous Harry:

Hourglass Heart by @bixgirl1 (E, 5k)

It only happened once — depending on how Harry counted.

Utterly Yours by @lazywonderlvnd (E, 6.5k)

Draco gets back at Harry for his late nights as an Auror by flirting with the new Arithmancy professor. Harry's not usually the jealous type, but he has his moments.

Intention by @the-sinking-ship (E, 7k)

Harry really ought to listen to whatever Ron is saying, but it becomes impossible to focus when a familiar figure across the pub curls his fingers around another man’s tie. And when that man leans in with a wolfish smile, Harry sees red, and all he can think is mine.

on the divine agony of longing by @flimsi (E, 25k)

Speaking to Draco is like poking a beehive - and Harry is a glutton for punishment. In which Harry makes some serious blunders and then tries to fix it. Somehow.

Around You Moves by ignatiustrout (E, 29k)

Harry knew Draco was gay when he invited him to move in. He’s never had a problem with this. So why does he feel so weird about Draco bringing men home all of a sudden?

Two to Lie and One to Listen by @fluxweeed (E, 84k)

It’s weird when Hermione announces that she and Ron have broken up. It’s weirder when this is followed by the revelation that she’s already moved on—and the new object of her affections is Draco Malfoy.

this heaven of mud by @garagepaperback (E, 94k)

A love story told in two somewhat unreliable parts, over six years. Featuring secret shagging, to friends, to the 'how is it fair for someone to say your name like that' sort of friends, to, finally, someone you could call a home.

Grounds for Divorce by Tepre (E, 122k)

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter.

Jealous Draco:

Packing the Flat by marguerite_26 (E, 6k)

Months after their explosive break-up, Draco insists Harry return to their flat to remove his belongings.

Don't Stop It Before It Begins by mischieviolet (E, 19k)

“I don’t understand how this is of any concern to you, Malfoy,” Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest. Draco blinked at the use of his last name, something that Harry only used with him in jest these days. “I’m merely spending time with my Auror partner, who is from another country, and has no one here. I would do the same if it were you.” “It’s not me though, is it?” Draco all but shouted, unable to stop himself.

The Partner, The Rival and The Very Big Case by oceaxe (E, 24k)

When Harry and Nott are paired up to go undercover as fake boyfriends, Draco is disappointed not to get the assignment. It's just professional jealousy that's making him feel so upset. Obviously. He's engaged to be married to Astoria, after all.

(The Piece) I was Missing All Along by lauren3210 (E, 30k)

Draco and Harry have been flatmates and best friends for years, and Draco thinks life is just perfect that way. But when something comes along and threatens to take all that away, Draco has to decide what it is he really wants, and just how hard he's going to work to get it.

Make Me a Headline (I Want to Be That Bold) by @dictacontrion (E, 31k)

Draco never expected to see Harry doing that again. Especially with someone else, in a grainy photograph that's landed on his desk one Monday morning.

Nights With You by @the-sinking-ship (E, 58k)

Draco is mortified when moments prior to departing for the most anticipated destination wedding of the year, he is cruelly dumped. But when he learns that Harry Potter has, at long last, split with his horrible boyfriend, Draco is certain his luck has changed.

[imaginesbymonika]

Futile Devices | Part 5

Pairing: Noel Gallagher x childhood-best friend reader

Plot: There's nothing quite like realizing your feelings once it's too late. But what would life be without a speck of hope?

read previous part

(1998)

Noel who is sitting next to Nicole leans back in his chair and annoyingly crosses his arms in front of his chest. Usually, he loved the Brits, truly. It’s his favorite award show of the year (even if he’d never admit that to anyone). Nonetheless, this year even though he tries his absolute best to have a good time and enjoy himself he just couldn't do it. No matter how much alcohol he drinks.

His eyes wander the table. His brother Liam is filling his girlfriend’s champagne glass to the brim and giggles like a schoolboy when some of it spills on the white tablecloth. The blonde in his arm scolds him, but cannot conceal the smile that materializes on her red-painted lips. He sees how Nicole yawns, before her hand moves to gently caress his shoulder. Something is missing. And he just can’t put his finger on it.

He wants to say something to her when he catches a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye. A familiar silhouette. Pursued by a feeling in his chest that he used to be able to put a word on. Noel turns his head and sees you.

Three tables behind their own is Blur’s. You are sitting next to Damon, wearing a gorgeous silver satin dress. Considering, how all the other people at the table are wearing somewhat more informal clothing you look like something straight out of a magazine.

His blue eyes travel down to your hand that’s intertwined with Damon’s, and when he notices a (huge fucking) diamond on your ring finger he swallows thickly. He thought you loathed wearing jewelry. His head quickly turns back to his table.

„Are you okay?“, Nicole asks, her tone concerned before his gaze drifts through the room. When it stops on you she lets out an understanding sigh:” It was all over Daily Mail.”

“What?”

“Their engagement.”, she explains, bringing the glass up to her lips:” Damon gave an interview on how she’s the love of his life or whatever. Expensive fucking ring too. I always guessed Blur didn’t sell that much, but well…”

Noel stares at his drink. He wonders if he’ll be invited to the wedding, but then again you didn’t phone him to tell him about the engagement in the first place. He wanted to be angry- at Damon, angrier than he had already been. Yet if he was being ethical about it he couldn’t be. If someone was to vilify for this whole fiasco it has to be him. He had shoved you away. Nicole wasn’t his best friend, fuck this.

“Are you having a good time?”, a voice from next to him asks and Noel simply nods. In reality, all he wanted to do was cry. Something was missing, and that something was you.

[arcanahangedman]

it fascinates me how the only hate i see for jundori is entirely projection and bad faith interpretation

chidori can be her own three-dimensional character, a homeless orphan abducted by evil corporate overlords for human experimentation, who grows up too fast and has to learn to fend for herself alongside other victims of this abuse, whose love of art and nature contrasts with her apathy to life and suicidal ideation

While. also. being a child who never got the chance for wider socialisation, bewildered by this weird guy’s interest in her art and his insistence on keeping an eye on her (bc she literally fucking c*ts herself in public and is then hospitalised) but his sheer compassion grows on her. someone called their relationship stockholm syndrome and ooooh my goooood Do u even know what that means.

junpei is a 17 year old kid. as a member of sees, he (like the rest of the group) has no idea what’s going on with the kirijo group or their operations, nor does he hold any power over their choice to hospitalise chidori. also she is there bc SHE LITERALLY SELF H*RMS LIKE ARE U DUMB

to act as if junpei is some sort of scheming villain that supports and is responsible for chidori being held hostage instead of being a scared kid, apart of an organisation he is kept entirely in the dark about, concerned about the safety of this other person his age who goes around assassinating ppl and c*tting herself…genuinely u could not think of a more disingenous interpretation of his character if u tried

i saw someone say that chidori is portrayed by fandom as junpei’s “no-panties mommy housewife” (almost that exact wording) and it’s like. What Are You Talking About No She Isn’t. She Is 16 Why The Fuck Would You Even Suggest That Or Word It That Way You Freak

it’s extremely bizarre to write off a ship bc u choose to engage with the cishet male incel side of the persona fanbase and view it through their perspective. like what does that have to do with their actual depiction in the game or ur average tumblr jundori enjoyer.

if u have issues with the power imbalance between the two of them, sure, it’s understandable. junpei is not the one being held against his will and chidori repeatedly protests staying in the hospital (i must stress that i, for one, do not think it wise to leave a minor who consistently self-h*rms without supervision :p) but the presence of a power imbalance does not automatically equal an abusive misuse of that imbalance

last note: ppl like to bring up junpei’s weirdo behaviour towards the other female cast members. i’m not going to treat this as insignificant but it’s also not particularly relevant unless ur arguing that junpei is seeking to control, perv on, or abuse chidori. Which he isn’t lol like he literally just wants to talk to her, stop her from c*tting herself, and show her that she can have a life outside of living on the streets and assassinating ppl with her merry band of men. the worst u could call him is naive (again. he’s 17.) but yeah he’s soooo controlling and abusive, guys !!

i’m not over here saying everyone has to like or support jundori, or either character. everyone has their preferences and idgaf about urs. but it would be sooooo great if we didn’t act as if one of these two children, both mistreated and left in the dark by evil corporate overlords, is actually a subservient overlord pawn who manipulates chidori so he can ?? keep her company when she’s alone and ask her about her feelings ????

anyway this isn’t supposed to be some epic final anti-jundori takedown so if u wanna discuss further, dm me. i don’t want no smoke just bc i think u ppl are genuinely weird 🩷

conclusion: i’m thinking about how that one persona ships poll had a 90% positive response to jundori so like Boom jundori sweep

[marvelslut16]

Plus One

Prompt number: 11 "Well that worked out great

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairing: Robin Buckley x reader (modern au)

Rating: T(een)

Word count: 2.1k+

Warnings: Swearing probably. Homophobia. Hints of internalized homophobia. My bad writing. A rushed ending, I fear.

A/N: heh like pretty much everything I write this is loosely based off an experience I had. I came out to my cousin when I was 14 and was dating my ex girlfriend. She repeatedly asked me if I was sure I wanted to be with a girl and told me that I was just confused. She got engaged right before I started working on this, so it was cathartic to write, and it's been sitting in my wip's ever since so I figured I would finish it.

The invitation you received in the mail came as a surprise to you, and you’ve been livid in the moments since opening it. Your cousin Leslie, who is a few years older than you, is getting married, and you’d be happier for her if she wasn’t marrying her long time friend Adriana. Rereading the invitation for what feels like the one hundredth time, you’re hit with a painful flashback to highschool when you actually trusted Leslie. Trusted her so much that you came out to her. 

“Les, can I tell you something?” you fiddle with the strap of your purse as you await her response.  

“You’re not pregnant, are you?” her eyes widen and flick down to your stomach. 

“No, but now I’m getting rid of this shirt,” you sigh, flicking the hem of your brand new top. “It’s nothing like that, I just want to talk to someone about my crush. I’m too nervous to tell Robin or Steve about it, I’m not sure if they’ll support it.”

“Well who is he then?” Leslie perks up, excited that you’re actually getting out there. 

“She,” you whisper. You trust your cousin Leslie more than pretty much anyone else in your life, you’ve always felt comfortable opening up to her, the only person in your family you trust enough. “She’s drop dead gorgeous, she’s a little weird, and she-”

“It’s a girl?’ Leslie cuts you off, and that’s when you notice her expression. It’s somewhere between confusion and...disgust? “I thought you used to like Steve.”

“Yeah, in like third grade,” you laugh awkwardly, wanting nothing more than to rewind time to before you ever started this conversation. “Every girl did, and I only said I liked him to fit in.”

“(Y/N/N), let’s not be rash, you don’t really like this girl,” she puts her hand up to stop you when you open your mouth to defend yourself and your feelings. “I know you (Y/N), you love guys, you’re just confused.”

No matter how hard you tried to convince Leslie that night that you’re interested in girls, she wouldn’t accept it. From that day on you no longer trusted her, nor did you voluntarily talk to her nor her boyfriend of over five years, and he was practically your cousin at that point too. But what you do do, is push down your feelings for girls for years, and you date Eddie up until graduation even though you don’t have any interest in him, just to be normal.

“What’s wrong honey?” Robin’s voice drips of concern when she notices that you’re near tears staring down at a letter. All the hurt and anger you felt for and from Leslie for years comes rushing to the surface in the form of tears. 

You don’t know how to respond, your brain can’t seem to formulate any words at the moment, so you thrust the invitation into Robin’s hand. The confusion is so clearly written on her face, she can’t figure out why a simple wedding invitation can bring you, someone who hasn’t really shown vulnerable emotions in years, close to tears. 

“Your cousin, right?” Robin met her once years ago at a birthday party you had, back when you were young and you thought it was normal to want to marry your female best friend one day. “Do you not like her girlfriend or something?” 

“Yeah, I don’t like that she’s a girl,” your brain is going a mile a minute, and the look of hurt that crosses Robin’s face is proof that your mouth is working faster than your brain. “Wait, that didn’t come out right.”

“Yeah,” the brunette crosses her arms and takes a step back. “It came out homophobic.”

“She’s the reason I’m still in the closet,” you blurt out while tears start to cascade down your cheeks. “And now she’s marrying her best friend like it’s nothing, that what she said to me was nothing.”

“Wait, you’re-”

“I’m a lesbian, Robin, the only other person I’ve told was Leslie. She belittled me, she acted like I didn’t know what I was feeling, she made me feel like something was wrong with me. She spent hours telling me I was confused, and that I was really into boys. She pushed me back into the closet. She’s the reason I ever dated Eddie!”

“You like girls?” Robin asks again like she’s short circuiting at the information. 

“Yes! I don’t see why this is such a big deal to you, you’re the one that went out with two different women this month,” your angry tears are really starting to bubble up and you’re scared that you’re going to start sobbing if Robin doesn’t just drop it. 

“It’s just a lot to process,” she defends herself. She’s probably right, it probably is a lot for her to handle, finding out that her best friend is a lesbian just like her, when you had endless opportunities to tell her knowing that she would support you. “I can’t believe you never told me.”

“I’m going to my room,” you huff, spinning on your heels and stomping down the hall towards the bedrooms. Robin tries to catch your arm and keep you in place, but you dodge her hand at the last second and book it to your room. 

Flopping face first on your bed the tears start streaming down your face, you’re confused and that just upsets you more. Obviously, you want to be happy for your cousin and support her in her relationship; but at the same time you’re angry that the entire time she belittled you and made you feel worthless, she liked women too. 

“Honey,” Robin pops her head in your room a few minutes later. “Please talk to me.” She lays down on your bed next to you. 

“And say what?” you turn your head to peek out at her. 

“Let’s start with something simple, when did you know?” She rubs your back soothingly, trying to calm your tears. 

“When I was a kid; I went to a wedding when I was around ten and I started to imagine my wedding one day, and in this fantasy I was marrying a woman.”

“Why did you decide to tell your cousin?” Robin continues her line of questioning. 

“Because I trusted her then,” you shift onto your side and hide your face in Robin’s shoulder. “And I was pretty much in love with someone back then and I wanted to talk about it and I had no one to talk to, because you were still in the closet then and I was scared that you would judge me, or be disgusted by me, or hate me. I just wanted to get it all off my chest and ask for advice, but all I got was judgment from my cousin that was supposed to love me. We were close back then, and she ruined it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Robin wraps her arm around your waist and pulls you close when you start to pull away at the question. 

“Because I was scared, I didn’t know how to let someone in like I tried with Leslie. She was so disgusted that I felt disgusted with who I am. But, God, Robin, I’ve been keeping it in for so long. It hurt so much.”

“Oh honey,” she runs her hand over your hair, and you lay in her arms crying for what feels like hours. 

“Your invitation says you get a plus one,” Robin breaks the silence an hour and a half later. You lift your head from its place on her chest to make squinty confused eye contact. 

“Yeeeessss?” you’re trying to figure out what she’s getting at.

“I’ll go as your plus one,” she says like it’s the most obvious answer. “We can pretend that we’re dating and happy and stick it to her. Once she sees you happily with a woman I think you’ll probably feel better and be able to get over how she made you feel. You’ll be able to be authentically you once you do this.”

“You might be right,” you cuddle into Robin’s side again, clinging onto her. You may not be fake dating her yet, but you’ll enjoy any close proximity that you can until the wedding is over.

The next few months come and go with you and Robin coming up with things to say and little touches that you can do at the wedding to get Leslie to notice that you’re more than just friends. And you’ll admit to yourself, and only yourself, that you like all of the practicing of the touches. 

“Is that Robin?” Leslie asks at her reception, shocked that the little lanky brunette that followed you around when you were a kid is all grown up.

“Yeah it is,” you smile at Robin, casually entwining your fingers with hers. Your heart is pounding in your chest, your brain knows this was part of the plan, but your heart isn’t on the same page. 

“You guys are together?” Leslie asks slowly, like it’s the hardest thing for her to fathom. 

“We are,” Robin speaks up, lifting your entwined hands to her lips and delicately places a kiss on yours. Gone is the anxious timid girl, and in her place is this confident woman who's smirking at you. 

“Sharing an apartment made us realize that there was more here than just our friendship.” you give Robin a sly once over, once again appreciating how she looks in her pantsuit. 

You can see Leslie’s face twist, you aren’t close enough to her anymore to understand what the look means. But you do know that it doesn’t seem positive. Luckily, you’re saved by Leslie’s new wife calling her over to see her new in-laws.

Four hours and just as many drinks later, you're going back up to the bar to grab your fifth when Leslie corners you.

“Why are you with Robin?” Leslie asks, pulling you into a literal corner. 

“Why not?” you glare back at her, not understanding why she keeps this fucking going. 

“Why are you dating a woman?” she asks again, ironically sounding more and more homophobic with every interaction, at her own lesbian wedding.

“Why am I dating a woman? Because I’m a lesbian. Why am I with Robin? Because I’ve been in love with her since we were kids, Leslie!” You whisper shout, not wanting to draw attention from your family. “I tried telling you that years ago, and you shamed me. This is your wedding, you’re supposed to be celebrating your love, not trying to argue with me about my sexuality again.”

“Are you okay?” Robin asks, coming up next to you and wrapping her arm around your waist, glaring at Leslie.  

“We’re fine,” you turn in her hold, and wrap your arms around her neck. “I was just about to come find you and see if you wanted to dance.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” with one last glare at Leslie, Robin yanks you to the center of the busy dance floor. 

You’re holding each other close and swaying to the music, it feels like a dream. If only you had just become Mrs. Buckley, then it would be just like the dream you had when you were ten. 

“So you’ve been in love with me for years?” she finally whispers, you had hoped that she hadn’t heard that. 

“Maybe,” you whisper, not daring to pull away from her and look at her face. So long as you don’t look at her, you can imagine that she’s happy about this revelation. 

“Well I hope you have been, and still are, because I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember.” This time you do pull away, you want to see the sincerity on her face, want to know in your heart and soul that she really means it. “Living with you has been torture! You’re always running around in those oversized tees and those skimpy little shorts that are practically just underwear. It’s been next to impossible not to do anything.”  

“Maybe I wanted you to take notice and do something,” You giggle. 

And do something she does, she pulls you in for a heated kiss. Your teeth clack with how fast she pulls you in, but you can’t be bothered to care. In fact, you realize it’s a perfect first kiss, so much pent up emotion and feelings that you can’t be apart for one second longer. Pain and consequences be damned, you’ve finally got your girl. 

“Well, that worked out great, I should have fake dated you sooner,” a breathless Robin mutters, and you can’t help but giggle at her reaction to your first kiss. She starts laughing too, and you can’t wait anymore and pull her into another kiss. 

[elizabethemerald]

Gala Daze DPxDC

AO3

“What a great idea Vladdie!” 

“I don’t know Jack…” 

“Oh I assure you, my dear Maddie that Daniel will be perfectly safe with me. I won’t let him out of my sight for a moment.” 

“Come on Maddie, it would be a perfect opportunity for our Danno to bump elbows with some rich bigwigs!” 

“Well maybe he can talk to them about getting some funding for ghost extermination. Very well Vlad. You can take Danny to Gotham.”

Danny was disassociating. While not entirely a new state of being, a dissociative episode had never lasted this long for him. He had been fully checked out from his body ever since the flight from Amity Park to Gotham. He had been thinking about turning intangible and just letting the plane fly through him so he could go home, when Vlad had leaned over to him to whisper in his ear. Vlad said if Danny stepped even one toe out of line, or did anything to embarrass him, Vlad would overshadow as many people as it took to ensure that Jazz was turned down by every college she applied to. He would ruin her entire future if Danny did even one thing wrong. 

Danny had started disassociating after that. 

His parents had done a lot to hurt him and Jazz. Usually the harm the elder Fentons did to their children was either accidental or unknowing. Like when Jazz was sick for days after the Thanksgiving dinner where Dad tried to fry the turkey in ectoplasm or like when they shot Danny when he was out as Phantom. 

However this time there was no excuse for them hurting their kids. If they ever listened to their children they would know that Danny hated Vlad and Jazz didn’t trust him. The kids had said over and over again for years that they didn’t like Vlad, but no! Uncle Vladdie could do no wrong! Danny and Jazz were just making things up for attention. 

Ancients, Danny hoped that he could keep his nose clean for the trip, he didn’t want to be responsible for Jazz having to give up her dreams of getting into an Ivy League school. He had lost huge swaths of time. He barely remembered leaving the airport and the next time he was cognizant they were heading to the gala in the tailored suits Vlad had ordered. 

Fortunately Vlad loved nothing more than the sound of his own voice, not even Danny or his mom. So he was more than happy to talk to the people around them about Danny and any time someone asked Danny a question he would be the one to answer instead. Vlad kept his hand either on Danny’s shoulder or on the back of his neck at all times so he couldn’t even slip away. 

Now he was talking to some rich fruitloop who kept trying to engage Danny in conversation. Brucie? Wait? Bruce Wayne? Yeah the guy was rich but why would Vlad go out of his way to introduce Danny to this airhead? 

“Well, yes, my son Damian does have many interests, but I can’t say that any of them have to do with NASA's latest satellite.” Mr. Wayne was saying in response to something Vlad had said. Ah. That made sense. Vlad wanted to brag, shove his superiority into Mr. Wayne’s face. Brucie turned to address Danny. “Tell me Daniel, what do you know about NASA's deep space satellite?”

“Uh, I prefer Danny actually, Mr. Wayne.” Danny said. Mr. Wayne’s eyebrows rose marginally considering those were his first words during this conversation. “And I-”

“Yes, Daniel really is attached to that childish nickname, isn’t he?” Vlad spoke up again. “Really Brucie, you would think children would grow up at some point. We should discuss this more over a game of golf next week…”

Danny let Vlad’s words wash over him again. The worst thing about Vlad was he really knew how to push Danny’s buttons. Of course he would bring up the new satellite only to show off to his rich rival, then not even let Danny talk about it. And then insulting him for his name! Prick!

He tried to avoid looking at Brucie’s concerned face. Obviously he was a socialite and knew all about the proper behavior for galas, and Vlad probably wasn’t meeting those social rules. There was a small part of Danny’s chaos-gremlin brain that wanted to say something seemingly innocuous but super sus if you thought about it. Nothing would make Danny happier than getting Vlad investigated for something stupid like tax fraud, but he couldn’t risk Jazz’s career just for spite. Or gremlin urges. 

Vlad moved his hand from Danny’s shoulder down to his lower back. Danny did everything he could to keep the snarl he wanted to make at that action from coming out. He still couldn’t help the full body shudder that shook his frame for a fraction of a second. Vlad shot him a look filled with malice and promised pain so Danny reigned himself back in and put his attention firmly on the floor in front of him. 

Danny clenched his fists, driving his nails into his own palms. He was sure he was bleeding, but he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t do anything. He hated feeling powerless. You would think that after the portal accident and him gaining actual real powers the feeling would be far more rare, except it happens far too often and he hated it. His hands were shaking with rage and suppressed desire to punch Vlad right in his smug, manipulative, fruit-loop face. 

He chanced a glance up just in time to see a girl melt out of the shadows near the wall. If he didn’t know better he would say she was a ghost with how easily she was able to appear. But she definitely wasn’t a ghost. Perhaps a touch liminal, but not a ghost. And she was watching him. 

Danny tilted his head slightly to get a better look at her and she tilted her head to match. Her eyes flicked to the two adults for only a fraction of a second to confirm they were still engaged in whatever conversation they were having, then her hand came up and she signed for letters in what Danny recognized as ASL. 

“R U O K.” 

She merely looked the question at him. He risked a peak at Vlad, but he was focused on trying to strong arm Brucie into meeting for a golf match and some private drinks. Other than his thumb rubbing circles into the small of Danny’s back he wasn’t paying any attention to him. Danny looked back at the girl who was watching him intently. He gave the smallest shake of his head he could, hoping that Vlad wouldn’t notice. The girl nodded and slipped effortlessly back into the shadows, all but disappearing from view. 

Several more minutes went by of mindless conversation with Mr. Wayne seemingly had given up on trying to get Danny to answer questions. He let his mind drift again to his beloved stars as he began naming the stars in biggest constellations visible in the night sky. 

For a while Danny thought that nothing would come of the mystery girl who had checked on him, until a crash echoed across the hall from the entrance of the gala hall. Vlad finally released Danny’s shoulder to whirl to face the noise. Then to his surprise, Mr. Wayne turned as well to put himself in between Danny and the crash, effectively hiding him from Vlad. At first he thought that was just serial adopter Brucie Wayne’s first gut instinct in a crisis, putting his body between a threat and the nearest black haired kid. 

However, immediately after Mr. Wayne stepped in front of him, two kids appeared out of the crowd, grabbed Danny’s shoulders and started to drag him away. He recognized the asian girl who had signed to him, and the other was, even more surprisingly, Damian Freaking Wayne! That meant that the other girl must be Cassandra Wayne! Sam had made sure Danny knew all the Waynes before the topic of the gala had even come up. Apparently the Waynes were the only people who made the events her parents dragged her to worth it. 

Damian and Cassandra maneuvered through the crowd so effortlessly Danny had to take a moment to check if they were using intangibility. The trio weaved through as the noise behind them got even louder until they pulled him into a back room of the hall where a very tired looking Timothy Drake-Wayne was already there on his laptop. He looked up at Danny in confusion for a second before returning his attention to the computer in front of him. 

“Don’t worry, that noise was just the chandelier in the entrance hall falling. Apparently it couldn’t take Dick’s weight.” Timothy, actual real CEO of Wayne enterprises said. Tucker would be losing his mind right now. 

Cassandra settled Danny into a chair while Damian marched up to Timothy. Danny could finally take a moment to look properly at the Waynes. All three of them wore elegant, likely name brand suits. Timothy was wearing a plain white shirt under his suit jacket while Cassandra and Damian wore black on black suits, though Damian’s did have some green highlights at the lapels and pockets. Timothy looked like his eye bags had eye bags, which Danny could relate to. 

“Father ordered you not to work for the night of the Gala.” Damian snapped. When Timothy didn’t dignify that with a response the youngest Wayne turned back to face Danny. “Vladimir Masters escorted you to the gala tonight.” 

Danny couldn’t help but snort. 

“What a polite way of phrasing that.” He said with a dark chuckle. 

“Would it be more accurate to call you his hostage?” Timothy asked from his chair, where he was still focusing on his computer screen and whatever it was he was working on. 

That brought Danny up short. He tried to stutter out a denial, but Damian quickly spoke over him. 

“Has he hurt you? Threatened you or someone you care about?” Damian demanded. 

“N-no!  He would never lay a finger on me!” Danny was quick to say, trying to project as much confidence as possible. Cassandra moved her flat hand in line across her face. Damian glanced at her and his eyes narrowed at Danny. 

“You don’t have to lie to protect him. We can protect you, our family has resources.” 

Danny shook his head over and over again. 

“I can’t talk about it. I can’t talk about it. I can’t talk about it.” He had to repeat himself, the phrase trapping themselves in his mind as he kept saying it over and over again. 

If he told them what Vlad had done to him, Vlad would ruin Jazz’s entire life. He already regularly tried to kill his father, but there was no telling what he would do to Jazz. Danny couldn’t tell them about being thrown into walls during his fights with Plasimus, or the clones Danny had watched melt in his arms under Vlad’s uncaring eye. He almost jumped out of his skin when a hand came to rest on his shoulder. 

While he was panicking, Damian had withdrawn, visibly uncertain about how best to approach him. Cassandra and Timothy had come closer, Cassandra had her hand on his shoulder providing a calm, steadying presence. Timothy had closed his laptop and scooted forward his attention now fully on Danny. He made some motion to the others that seemed to symbolize that he was going to be taking point. 

“You’re not from Gotham originally, is that right?” When Danny nodded he continued. “We have some heroes here in Gotham. Believe it or not, we Waynes get kidnapped a lot, get rescued a lot. We know some of the Bats, they could help you.” 

Danny was already shaking his head again. 

“No, no no! That’s even worse. The worst thing that can happen if you Waynes help me is Brucie gives Vlad WE for pennies on the dollar and Vlad gets even richer. But if you get Batman involved, then he could have a man inside the JL. He could turn them against the people, use them as a tool to take over whatever he wants. He could overthrow the Ghost King…”

Now Danny was really panicking. He had muttered the last bit, terror carving its way through him. It would be like the absolute worst of the fight with Pariah Dark and Dan all over again. Danny would have to fight, and maybe kill the Justice League to stop him. If he won, he would have to eradicate Earth’s heroes, and if he lost Vlad would become King of the Infinite Realms. 

“You are talking about mind control.” Damian said, his eyes wide.

“No! Not mind control. Overshadowing. Humans call it possession.” Danny was rambling now. Desperately trying to convince these silly rich people not to get involved. Danny was a lost cause, he couldn’t be helped. All he could do was keep his head down long enough for Jazz to get into her college of choice. The Waynes glanced at each other nervously for a moment and Damian pulled his phone from his pocket. 

“I think I need to make a call.” 

Danny snapped his head up, his attention on the far wall as his breath came out in a foggy puff, like he had just walked into a freezer. He didn't know it but his eyes were blazing green at that moment. 

“It’s too late now.” 

The Waynes all step back or slouch against their chairs. Only a second later the door to their room snaps open, Vlad furious, his once spotless suit now covered in red wine and assorted finger foods. His eyes burned red with rage as he locked onto Danny. Timothy immediately stood to his feet. 

“Ah, Mr. Masters.” Vlad pulled himself back from his rage with difficulty to acknowledge the young CEO. “We were just coming out to look for you. Your ward was grabbed by our security team. Small case of mistaken identity. It's standard procedure during these sorts of events to get my brothers and sister to safety in the event of another terrorist attack. Or worse a Joker attack. Thankfully it seems everything is under control. You may take your charge now.” 

Timothy brushed past Vlad without another comment. Damian glared at him, but he glared at everyone, while Cassandra just stared at Vlad, unblinking, like some kind of demonic cat. Her complete lack of reaction obviously weirded Vlad out even more than Damian’s aggression. 

“Oh I’ll do that.” He grabbed Danny’s arm hard enough to bruise. “Come Daniel. We’re leaving.” 

Danny turned away from the Waynes as he was dragged out the door. He didn’t want to face their pity. At least he did a good enough job convincing them that they can’t help him. Now he just had to last long enough to get back home again. He let himself checkout, ignoring Vlad’s crushing grip on his arm as he dragged from the gala and back to the hotel. 

When Danny next checked in with his body it was to Vlad screaming in his face and burning pain in his body. In Vlad’s furious race out of the Gala after his humiliation he had pulled Danny’s arm out of his socket. And to emphasize his points Vlad would hit him with ecto fire, each hit destroying more of his once nice suit and leaving burns on his body. 

“You think you can just toy with me in front of these richest elite? I will make your life hell! I will make your sister’s life hell! She’ll be lucky to make a living on the street corners of a shit hole like this!” He gestured out to the window, which Danny belatedly realized was open. “I just don’t understand why you make me do this to you, Daniel. Little Badger, you are forcing my hand and I-”

He shrieked as a batarang whipped from the open window. The lights in the hotel room flickered for a second and Batman, Robin and Orphan were standing in the room when the lights returned. Vlad turned to them, furious that they would interrupt. 

“Vladimir Masters. We have some questions for you.” Batman growled. 

“No! I think you’ll find Batman, that I have some questions for you!” Vlad’s eyes flared red. Danny tried to stop him but he was backhanded away

Vlad floated into the air as his ghost transformation rolled over his body. He reached out to grab Batman but before he could several things happened at once. First and most shockingly, Robin drew a katana and cut off Plasmius’ hand at the wrist. Then several voices shouted out at once.

“Azarath Metrion Zinthos!”

“Dnib siht tirips ot sti ydob!” 

“Puer iste spiritus maxime!”

Chains of gold, purple and blazing fire wrapped around Plasmius again and again. The chains dragged him down to the ground even as he snarled and swore at them. A man in a trench coat, a woman in a long black cloak and an actual stage magician appeared in the room, magic sparking at their fingertips. Cassandra had bypassed the battle completely to come to Danny's side, though she did still have her weapons in her hands. Batman turned to address him, ignoring Vlad’s continued vitriol in the middle of the arcane trap. 

“You’re safe now Danny. You don’t have to worry about him hurting you ever again. This I swear.” Batman said, his voice just as serious as it ever was, and for the first time in his life, Danny felt like he could actually believe it when someone told him he was safe. He collapsed to his knees, shuddering sobs shaking his body. He was safe, Jazz was safe from Vlad’s machinations. Maybe this nightmare could finally be over. 

[katerinaaqu]

👉👈 saw the posts about the ages in the odyssey/iliad

And was wondering do we know how much time (roughly) passed between the suitors of helen made the oath and the start of the trojan war?

Aka how old was Odysseus when he suggested the idea with the Oath and got at the very least engaged with Penelope

Hello Hello! Thank you so much for the question and I am sorry if it is long!

As you know I estimated Odysseus's age in my analysis to be around his mid-30s at the beginning of the war, mid to final 40s at the events of the Iliad till the end of the war and in his mid to final 50s when he returns home to Ithaca. That being said he is one of the oldest kings around probably (although the others of the same age group are most likely close enough)

Time line is not cut clean of course given the many different sources that exist. Apollodorous has a very extended timeline. I believe he got inspired by local traditions but also the phrase that Helen uses at Iliad that she has been "20 years there" which most likely is a euphemism to say "I've been here too long". He has a very extensive timeline that makes the heroes have two gatherings that are a decade apart but I think that is way too outstretched of a timeline so I go with the more simple one at least as far as Homer is concerned with one gathering at Aulis (or even if there was anoter gathering not it being like 10 years apart, that makes the timeline too extensive). I believe there is a general agreement though in the sources that roughly a decade passes from the Oath of Tyndareus till Paris's arrival to Sparta and Helen going with him to Troy. There are some sources that say they spent around a year roaming about in a sort of honeymoon where they consumate their marriage. So I should say around a decade passes from the Oath of Tyndareus till the moment the war breaks out. Maybe with one or two years of difference for the preparation.

Now that second part is interesting. There isn't much to suggest on the maritable ages of the Mycenaean times but during classical Athens the ideal age for marriage for men was considered 30 and for women around 16. I am using this as a guideline but I believe that the ages of mid-20s was a reasonable age for someone at the bronze age to consider marriage. By some accounts Odysseus wasn't even entirely bothered to bring gifts to Helen because he wasn't convinced he had chances with her. That being said that must have been beyond his appearance or his wealth. My estimation would be his age too if let's say he had to compete against Menelaus or Aias/Ajax who were both quite younger than what he was (particularly Ajax)

My estimation is that he was in his mid-final 20s (somewhere between 26 and 28 or 29). Penelope, by my logic, should have been at least a decade younger in order for her 20 years later to still be considered for marriage and having children so obviously she wasn't his age otherwise she would be in her 50s in the Odyssey and even by modern day standards women are not particularly fertile if at all in their 50s. So my estimation is that she must be tops in her mid-40s in the Odyssey making her anywhere between the ages of 16 to 19 when she meets Odysseus. That is even further backed up by the fact that Agamemnon says that he left Penelope a "young bride' (νύμφην και νέην) which is translated both as "newlyweds" or "young wife" implying that Penelope was considered a young woman when she married.

Now I am not sure how much we can assume on engagements in Bronze Age unless it was two kids from families promised to each other. In fact sources like Pausanias speak on how Icarius tries to stop Penelope and Odysseus returning to Ithaca because he wanted Odysseus to remain to Laconia. Odysseus gives Penelope the choice to continue their marriage or stay with her father, implying they were already married by that time he traveled to Sparta.

So yup I believe he was in his mid or final 20s so that around 10 years later he is forced to join the Trojan War in his 30s, finishes by his 40s and finally returns home in his 50s I hope this helps or makes sense to you ^_^

[hottiehiei]

- Slow burn romance with Hiei PART TWO

After months of mutual attraction, Hiei will ultimately confess— out of anger.

gender neutral. sfw. fluff. angst. (also, cliff hanger bc i literally blanked)

PART 1 is not required for this, but I highly recommend reading for more fluff ! <3

✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻

𓆩⟡𓆪 After Hiei finally realizes he is utterly smitten, he finds himself stuck in a weird predicament. He's kind of like, "Okay, what now?"

𓆩⟡𓆪 At times, he often wonders why you aren’t intimidated by his cold demeanor. What did you see in him that others didn’t? Or rather, what did he see in you that made him so attached? Trying to put all the pieces together only made him think of you more, and he can’t seem to come up with any sensible answers. It was an insufferable cycle.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Most people would give up and accept their fate. Not Hiei. He won’t welcome these feelings with open arms. No, he’d rather fight and conquer!

𓆩⟡𓆪 But….every time you greet him with a smile or wave him goodbye, he feels content. Such an ordinary interaction would make his sour mood disappear. It didn’t matter if he remained silent in response. You were persistent, unmoved by his rudeness. Were you able to tell that he actually liked the attention? He hoped not.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Hiei naturally gravitates towards you, oddly feeling the need to stay close. His Jagan Eye can easily keep track of your whereabouts, but he prefers close proximity. He basks in the feeling of your body heat. Dare he say it was therapeutic. With little effort, he is in tune with every part of you.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Whenever you’re engaged in conversation, he picks up little details of your daily life (another perk of staying close by). Don’t be too flattered, though. He’s still searching for something that’ll make him dislike you, even if he fails every time.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Hiei is a wild card. Just as you begin to think he feels nothing for you, he does something unexpected. One night, you accidentally found yourself separated from the group while on a mission. It was rather chilly, and you were shivering from the harsh winds. Hiei randomly showed up beside you, tossing his cloak over your head. “I can hear your teeth chattering from miles away. Don’t you humans know how to check the weather?”

𓆩⟡𓆪 No matter how unconcerned he appears to be, Hiei is always watching out for you. With his fast reflexes, he prevents you from losing your balance before you can even stumble over your feet or bump into something. He usually grabs your forearm or sleeve to stabilize you. The physical contact sends sparks between you two, but neither of you comment on it. His hand feels strangely warm after touching you. He can’t even bring himself to tease or scold you for nearly falling.

𓆩⟡𓆪 As mentioned, Hiei can be unpredictable. The romantic pinning is stronger than ever, but he’s still annoyed by it. For someone who has never experienced love before, he is taking it pretty hard. His feelings have festered to the point of frustration, and he feels vulnerable.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Hiei is so fed up with the back and forth that he ultimately decides to ignore you for good. Out of nowhere, he started acting like you didn’t exist. He put zero effort into holding a conversation, and sometimes, he was just plain rude, telling you to go away or walking right past you.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Kurama notices the awkward tension and tries to bring it up, but Hiei dismisses his concerns immediately. He figured that if he kept his distance, he would eventually forget about you. Or at least, that’s what he told himself. Acknowledging his feelings would make them real, and that’s the last thing he wanted.

𓆩⟡𓆪 While Hiei did all of this to protect himself, you’re left hurt by the abrupt change. He treats most people rudely, but you thought he at least tolerated you to some extent. Now, he couldn’t even be bothered to spare you a passing glance. You decided to confront him one day when you two were conveniently left alone (thank Kurama)

𓆩⟡𓆪 Initially, he was hostile, glaring at your figure. “If you truly believe there’s something between us, you’re sadly mistaken.” His words cut deep. He never spoke to you so harshly, but he sounded completely serious.

𓆩⟡𓆪 When you mentioned how much pain he caused you, it surprised him. He assumed he loved you far more than you could ever love him. But as you continued to vent, voice cracking and tears spilling, Hiei was incredibly confused. It wasn’t his intention to hurt you. He simply wanted to detach himself from you and return to his normal ways.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Witnessing your break down caused him to snap. He couldn't hold back his emotions any longer, and everything came out at once.

“You think I wanted to fall for you, a foolish human who can’t even tell when someone cares for them?”

“Your face is constantly invading my thoughts. I can’t even focus on anything else, but you’re the one crying? Ridiculous.”

“Just being away from you torments me. You couldn’t possibly understand. I’m doing this for my own sake.”

“Stop looking at me like that…”

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extra:

Even after this intense confession, Hiei still avoids you like the plague.

[gxldenlush]

Wedding date || c.s

Pairing: best friend!chris x fem!reader

Summary: y/n needs a date to her competitive sisters wedding.

Warnings: use of y/n, nickname (ma), random names for sister & her husband, slow burn (no development in this part)

A/n: gonna be a series so lmk if you want part 2. semi proofread😓

word count: 1840

Pink=y/n

Orange=chris

༻☙✽༺

“But I hate weddings! I doubt she even wants me there anyways” I’m currently pacing around my bedroom, protesting to my best friends reasoning as to why I should go to my sisters wedding next month.

“It might be fun, y/n. You might meet someone” Chris shrugs on his end of the already 3 hour long FaceTime.

“That’s the thing, I told her I had a boyfriend last month when she came over for dinner” I now regret this lie, but at the time I didn’t know that my sister would get married so quickly.

“Y/n, you are the most single person I know, and this is me talking! Why would you even tell her that you were dating someone?”

I instantly roll my eyes at the thought of my sisters competitive attitude. “You know what she’s like, Chris. She’s always trying to one-up me, i just told her about my new job and she instantly adds on that she got a promotion as though what I said meant nothing.” I stop my pacing and I throw myself backwards onto my bed with a groan.

“So you tried to one-up her?”

“No, she started talking about her boyfriend and how perfect he is, mom gave me that expectant look, you know the one? Her smile says “it’s okay” but her eyes say “if you say the opposite of what I want you to say, I wont talk to you for weeks”. I just cracked!”

“And now you have a non-existent boyfriend?”

“Yep” i sigh dramatically which pulls a laugh out of Chris. “So when she was on the phone talking about her wedding, she told me i could bring my boyfriend, I couldn’t say no!”

“Why didn’t you just say you broke up?”

“No way, that’s so much worse! Do you think Nick could pretend to be straight for one night?” I only half joke, genuinely willing to try anything.

Chris laughs loudly at my suggestion “Nick couldn’t even pretend to be straight when he thought he was straight! Look, how about this, if you can’t get a better solution by the week before your sisters wedding, I’ll go with you.”

I sit up and my eyes widen and shine with hope and gratitude as they look down at Chris on my screen.

“really? You’d do that for me?”

“Sure, why not.”

“That would be amazing, I’ll let you know, alright?”

Chris nods and changes the subject slightly.

“So, your sisters… fiancé… how long have they even been together?”

“Like six months? I don’t get it, honestly.I know the whole ‘when you know, you know’ stuff genuinely happens for some people but, I’d still want to be with them for much longer just in case, you know? Even if they propose at that time, I’d stay engaged for a while first.”

“Yeah, I agree. I feel like they probably don’t even know each other totally yet”

“Exactly!”

“Yeah, I think you have to know a girl for at least a year before knowing if she’s ’the one’, y’know?”

“I agree”

We’re silent for a few seconds before i mumble another comment. “He’s kind of creepy too, I do’t like him.”

“Creepy?” Chris’ tone has altered ever so slightly. Concerned. Protective.

“Yeah, he’s always staring, doesn’t understand personal space… he’s just strange”

“Does he make you uncomfortable?”

“A little bit, but I think that’s just because I don’t really know him.” I scoff. “My sister doesn’t even know him and she’s marrying him”

“If he ever does anything to you-”

“Which he wont”

“If he does… you’ll tell me. Right?”

“Of course I would.” He flashes me a smile.

“So anyway, did you figure out who ate your pop tarts?”

“I don’t know for sure but I’m fully convinced it was Matt”

We continue going through random conversational topics until we both fall asleep. A call that lasts about 5 hours? That’s normal for us, every single night that we aren’t seeing each other in person.

༄

“So, did you find a date for your sisters wedding?”

It’s a week before the wedding and I had no luck in finding a date. I shake my head as I hand him a Pepsi.

“Damn… so what colour tie should I wear?”

“You still want to be my date?”

“Sure, it’ll be fun. Besides, you can talk shit to me about your sister the whole time if you want” He smiles, knowing that sentence alone will convince me.

“Alright, but only if you’re okay with going?”

“Of course I am. One thing though”

“Yeah?”

“Your sister fucking hates me” he laughs

“Oh well” i shrug “Emma hates everyone that doesn’t love her as much as she loves herself. besides she’ll just have to deal with the fact that I love my totally real boyfriend”

“Awh, you love me?” He plays into the joke “damn, you’re saying it this quick? You’re turning into her”

“Woah, that’s not even funny!” I try to sound serious, but I can’t help but laugh.

“Wear your yellow tie, if you still have it, the one you wore for homecoming?”

“Yeah I’ve still got it, are you wearing yellow?”

I nod with a smirk “she hates yellow, and I look great in it”

“Ooh, we’re going bitchy for this wedding. I love it”

༄

“Hey, I’m here, are you almost ready?” Chris says over the phone as I finish up my hair in the mirror.

“Almost, just finishing my hair, just come up”

He hangs up the phone, I assume he’s walking into the house, I hear him walk up the stairs and lightly knock on my door.

“Come in” I turn to face the door, smoothing out my yellow dress as he opens the door.

When I take sight of Chris, my heart flutters. He looks so handsome. I can’t help but find hin attractive. I note that his eyes widen when he sees me.

“Holy shit, ma. You look gorgeous.” He sounds breathless, i think nothing of it, maybe he walked here.

“Thanks, you don’t look so bad yourself” I smile as I make my way over to him, I raise his tie and put the end of it against my dress. “Perfect match”

“Like fate”

“Or destiny” we laugh.

“Alright, let’s get going. Mom and dad are already there with Emma.”

“Shall we, m’lady?” He holds his arm out for me to link to.

“We shall” I laugh as I take his arm.

༄

The reception was lovely, I have to say. It was an outdoor wedding in the middle of summer, the weather was perfect and so were the vows. I am now sat at a table with Chris to my right and my father on my left with my sister beside him, drinking champagne and finishing dessert.

“So, y/n, how long have you and Connor been together?” My sister pipes up, clearly getting Chris’ name wrong on purpose.

“His name is Chris.” I reply through gritted teeth

“Oh, right. Silly me”

I roll my eyes as I conjure up more lies “we’ve been dating for about two months now, but we’ve ben friends for years”

“Yup, loved her even then” Chris adds in, leaning closer to me, placing his hand on my thigh, an action that is only visible to me, which confuses me. I smile at him, he kisses my cheek as I struggle to control my blush. What is happening to me?

Once we’ve finished dessert and our glasses of champagne, music starts to play, my sister and her new husband are called up by the DJ to begin their first dance. Everyone gathers around the dance floor to watch and record their first dance as a married couple. When I hear the song that’s playing, I scoff, shake my head and go sit down. Chris follows after me.

“Hey, don’t you wanna watch them dance?”

“No” I reply, sulking.

“What’s wrong?” He sits sideways in the chair next to me to face me, he takes my hands in his, seeing that I’m clearly upset.

“When we were kids, we used to watch Princess and the Frog, this song is from that movie. I told Emma that when I got married, this would be my first dance song.” I explain as an extended version of ‘Ma Belle Evangeline’ plays.

“Well, you can still dance to it now?”

“But-”

“Nope. No buts. When the DJ calls more people over to dance, we will dance too. Me and you.” He stand up and holds his hand out for me to take. “And we’ll dance a damn site better than them” he smirks.

“Now let’s get the bride and grooms parents and siblings up.”

I sigh and take Chris’ hand, he leads me to the dance floor and we start to slowly sway to the music, my arms around his neck and his hands on my waist.

And I love you, Evangeline…

I recognise his cheeky smile and I laugh as he takes my hand and starts to spin me around, we sway again, smiling and only looking at each other. Just as the song is ending, Chris dips me, like in the movie that I have also watched with him over the years. He slowly pulls me back up to stand when the song ands and everyone applauds. A huge mile on my face.

“Thank you”

“Anything for you, y/n” he smiles back at me, there’s a hint of something else in his eyes that I can’t quite place, all i know is that it’s something good.

The night goes well, apart from a few comments back and forth between my sister and I. We all laugh and dance and drink. That last one bars Chris, he doesn’t drink alcohol, even after Emmas new husbands many attempts to coax him into drinking something.

I ended up having to snap at him, which pissed off my sister to no end. “James! He said no!”. Emma didn’t speak to me after that.

“I’m just going to the bathroom, you gonna be alright alone?” I mumble to Chris as i pick up my handbag and stand up.

“Yeah sure, I’ll just talk to to your dad” He smiles up at me, I ruffle his hair to which he slaps my hand away making me laugh

“Wont be long” I make my way to the bathroom, leaving the large marquee and going into the main building behind it.

Walking down the hallway, I hear my name being called.

“Y/n!”

When I turn around im surprised by who meets my gaze

To be continued…

———

@mattscoquette