#i don't know if I've told you this or that i just don't say it enough but one of my favourite aspects your writing is the way you write

[patricia-taxxon]

I want to set the record straight regarding a certain OST for a short film that should be coming out later this year, because one of its directors is making false and hurtful claims about me and my business ethic. After he made a prominent appearance on a drama stream about me & wrote a section of my callout doc, I told him that I wasn't interested in dragging him publicly, but that has felt more impossible as time goes on and I realize the extent of his misrepresentation. I had a vision of this film being able to release quietly in spite of everything, but I don't think that can happen, and I fully expect him to try and hurt my chances at further work.

In 2023, between techdogs 4 and 5, I worked on music for a then good friend's student film. It is by far the most technically difficult job I've ever had, and I did it for free. Now, before you get mad, this is partially (mostly) my fault. I never negotiated a price beforehand, and when I found out partway through that I was working for free, I let it slide for fear of being disruptive. If I was asked to quote a price today, it would have been approximately 900 USD. The work was a hellish and grueling experience, technical in ways I'd never been prepared for, and I sorely regret not putting my foot down, because I was hollowed out by the end of it.

A big portion of his callout against me is concerned with, bafflingly, my decision not to contribute my own money to the film, which at that point would have been a negative paycheck. I didn't pay the thirty dollars that I would've had to pitch in for the film to be screened, and I considered that a fine payment for the nine hundred dollars of work they got from me. He goes on to write that I'm rich anyways, I pay hundreds of dollars on album art (business expenses that I know I'll make back when the music is released) and "furry porn," because apparently if I am occasionally willing to drop a pretty penny on a pleasure purchase then I should simply be compelled to pay them randomly for things I hold no stake in and that I signed no contract for. He also mentions that I paid them later for the DCP file at another screening, of course by that point I had gotten the vibe that they were wanting for me to drop money on their project, so I did, giving the post-hoc justification that "i guess in this case I also care about the film sounding good." He writes "well I guess that was something she deemed worthy" without realizing the implication would then be that he did not see my own work as worthy.

Let me make this clear, this is like if a voice actor worked on my video game for free as a favor with no expectations of royalties, and then I asked them to help me pay to get the game on steam. This is presented along reheated second, third, fourthhand accounts of sexual misconduct.

And before we move on, to the claim that one album artist had to wait for years before receiving payment, this is true. I did forget to pay one artist, and only found out after their assistant contacted me years later, where I then paid six times the asking price as a late fee. I was commissioning over ten album arts every year, and as of now, this is the only time I have made this mistake.

It is impossible for me to refute his claims about the personal time we spent together in Omaha, as it would just be my word against his. I will just say that he should know the omitted reasons that I have grown to feel I was disposed, discarded, and taken for granted by him, and how he has nothing to do with why I hold those memories at that film festival so highly. He also does the classic thing where he positions allowing me to pick the movie in the evening as this favor he did, making me unknowingly rack up debt for a bargain I never consented to.

During all this, he has expressed an existential fear of being harassed for going public about me, and for this reason I want to say that I still hope that this film can be released without a fuss, but his continued participation in a harassment campaign against me has done far more to tarnish his reputation than I ever could. If you really cared about your image, pressure Crim to re-record that drama stream without your embarrassing petty grievances in it & delete your testimony from the callout doc. Thanks.

[wanderingmind867]

I have some time to kill now, so let's add to this list. I'm going to aim for all my mutuals, plus some people who either follow me (and i don't follow back, for complicated reasons), or just some people i've had decent relations with before. I don't even know as many people in real life as the amount of people i'm probably going to tag here. So maybe social media has been good for my social skills? I wouldn't go so far as to say they've made me a lot better, but it might have helped a little. Anyways, let's start on the list.

First, all my mutuals: @ihauntmyhouse @thewordsmith3 @yourfriendlyneighbourhoodaries @v4guelyv4mpiric @marvel-and-moor @c00c00pig @kryptonbabe @moss-the-irishman @0asta0 @munchkinmarauder @billybatsonmylove @supersonicdp @ltwharfy @southernfreakinggothic @snapcandle @beauty-queen-official @istilldontlikemyusername @dougielombax

@demigod-jack-hearth @berf-a-smurf @loganjptaylor @one-of-batmans-orphans @spiritbox713 @molovesbooks @ness-marsh @ace-looking-4-parkingspace

I think that's almost all of my mutuals, but I am kind of worried I missed someone. But wow. You look at that list, and then you realize that when people have told me i'm a decently popular blog...was that true? I don't feel popular. I certainly don't feel like someone anyone should admire. So i'm amazed. Kind of existential to think about for too long, honestly. But i guess this happens when you've been on here for at least 2-3 years. And at least now i have a list of all my mutuals? But i'm now going to take a break. Maybe later (if i can work up the energy), i'll return and try to tag all those other categories of people I mentioned.

reblog to tell the person you reblogged this from that they are deserving of love and affection

[literallyjusttoa]

I think I'm gonna make a reblog chian of all the little phrases and Apollo uses throughout ToA, now that I'm rereading it. Bc like, he has such a unique way of speaking, and I really wanna dig into it, you know? Ok let's start.

He says "heavens help me" instead of "heaven help me" using the plural the same way demigods do with "oh my gods". I'm guessing this is an acknowledgment of other pantheons? Or I'm looking too far into it, I've just never heard this phrase with a plural "heavens" before.

He calls Cade and Mikey "Ruffians" . And he makes fun of the arrow for being Shakespearean.

He also refers to people as "Mortals" a lot here, which I remembered him doing, but now I want to keep track and see if he keeps that up throughout all the books, or if it peters out near the end.

"I thought how amusing it would be if I could make the snake tattoos around his neck come alive and strangle him to death" I honestly love how violent Apollo's thoughts can be sometimes. Like, you can tell he's someone who has done shit like this before.

I also want to keep track of all the little anecdotes Apollo brings up, so we'll start with the guitar contest against Chuck Berry in 1957, which apparently ended with him getting repeatedly stomped on.

"But something told me this was not she" II love how it's the little things that really get across how old Apollo is. Rick could've easily just said "It wasn't her" or something, but instead he had Apollo phrase this in a way that is far more formal, and more reminiscent of the grammatical patterns of old english. Idk it's just really cool.

(Side note that's not connected to Apollo: Meg's glasses are black? I feel like I've been living a lie, I've been coloring them red for years lol)

God his metaphors are just so striking. Like, I can imagine the phrase "Whatever was left of my pride turned into ice water and trickled into my socks" but I don't want to, because that's such a visceral feeling. I like that Apollo inadvertently proving how poetic he is by making the reader as uncomfortable as possible.

I think I'm gonna start crying out "Horrors!" when I'm upset to. I think I deserve that level of drama.

ahh the classic "My blessings upon you!" Again, I love how every little line characterizes him. Either it's overly formal, like before, or subtly arrogant, like here, or both. It's so fun.

I need to write him saying "Sacred Sibyl!" more. Because that is such a fun little term. Rolls right off the tongue, honestly.

I think I'm gonna leave it there for now, but trust that I will definitely be adding more to this later. Bc Lester-speak is so fun to really look into.

[revvethasmythh]

listen, now that everything is said and done i'm going to say something i've been thinking but not outright saying for the past nearly four years. frankly, imogen and laudna's relationship is a pale shadow of caleb and veth's and if you really sit and think about it, it's outright embarrassing for the former party. it's like if you saw a beautiful piece of art and tried to emulate it and then the only thing you managed to jot down that was the same was the basic shape and you never added any color when the color was the most important part. imogen and laudna's relationship is formed out of almost the exact same origins (troubled mage who needs to keep a distance from regular society joins up with monstrous misfit with a traumatic backstory and become each other's most important person while traveling place-to-place because they keep getting into trouble in cities). the difference is, genuinely, how much more colorful and lived in caleb and veth's story feels. they met in a podunk county jail and worked together to break out of the place, stayed together for practical reasons (straight-up survival) and then out of genuine friendship. they were hobos in the woods together. they cuddled on the side of the roads on cold nights together. they were genuinely each other's sole lifeline because they were the type of people no one in the world cared about in a very real, visceral way. they were also con artists, and sam and liam worked together to come up with an entire booklet of different cons they used to survive, which come into play surprisingly often during the campaign (Modern Literature, famously, but also Mother's Love and Money Pot featured).

comparatively, we know next to nothing about what imogen and laudna's lives looked like after leaving gelvaan, and the Incident™️ that sent them running in the first place remains amorphous and random no matter how many times the story is told or whatever extra details get added. the people of gelvaan found laudna to be a generically threatening presence (because of her fun-scary appearance and/or kooky-fun-scary behavior) and picked up their torches and pitchforks to run her out of town. imogen heard her thoughts and found them so beautiful she nearly killed two of the townspeople she grew up with the defend her and then they fled into the night together. and that's it. what did they do for two entire years after that? i don't know! neither do you. they don't appear to have struggled for money like caleb and veth did, there's no reference to hard-living, no real reference to what jobs they took to stay afloat, no mention of the practical realities of living as homeless nomads, no mention of towns and cities they'd visited and how those places impacted them. nothing. empty. no color. how did their relationship develop? also don't know! they seem to have slotted together perfectly as friends with no conflict for years before slotting together perfectly as lovers while batting aside all attempts at conflict later. done and dusted, that's the relationship, and people have the gall to call caleb and veth's successor relationship 'soulmatism' when it doesn't hold a candle to what the original offered.

which was, to be clear, endless complexity. i can't tell you how to define it, and i don't think the character's themselves could define it if they tried. sam went into the campaign intending to lean into a familial relationship and quickly realized that wasn't the vibe, course-corrected into veth having a crush on caleb--something sam has said developed fairly early in the campaign.* liam went into the relationship not intending to care about her nearly as much as he ended up doing, then spent the early campaign eps grappling with just how suddenly important she was to him, to the point that, in the face of her potentially dying in episode 20, liam says to sam, "do you want to make my character turn evil already?"** both were surprised at how tightly their characters clung to each other, and developed a deeply caring, highly insular dynamic where they were suspicious of outsiders and desperately guarded each other. with full retrospect, both went into the relationship intending to use each other (caleb for general usefulness/protection and veth, obviously, hoping caleb could change her back one day), then found such deep and tender care that they became each other's worlds. for a time. until nott became veth and veth had a husband and it sent their relationship into a tailspin because no matter how you frame the relationship, caleb clearly felt his feelings for her and the way they behaved together stepped over the line of how one should act with a married woman. after that, he is terrified of the idea that he might not have a place in her life and works so hard to create opportunities to insinuate himself into her present and future (teleportation spells so she can travel home quickly and still return to the group, making room for her family in the tower so she can stay with him, offering to tutor luc in magic to stay in her life, etc). veth gets her body and her life back but fears returning home will be lackluster compared to what she's experienced with the group, starts falling out of love with her husband, and has intense extra-martial feelings for caleb that are canonical. their relationship morphs and changes constantly throughout the campaign, and the one thing about their dynamic that never changes is how deeply and truly they love each other. you want to talk about soulmatism? them being the two party members with fake names who's real names share aspects of each other ("Bren" and "Brenatto") both from small-town dwendalian empire who's lives have been deeply impacted by meddling of the cerberus assembly (veth's in adulthood, caleb's in childhood) and who's deepest traumas are respectively fire and water does the trick for me.

so why is one so popular and the other, particularly as a romantic ship, very much is not? it would be obtuse of me not to immediately point to the fact that imogen and laudna are two pretty, skinny white women who claim to have deliciously little agency in their own stories and provide a blank enough canvas that the relationship can be whatever you want it to be. there's a reason there's so many AU fics for them, after all. caleb and veth on the other hand would center first a relationship between the handsome white fandom-popular sadboi and *checks notes* a self-described ugly, unfeminine goblin with deep neuroses and later a short, fat brown woman who also happens to be a young mother from a small country town. popular fandom, tragically, will almost always turn away from dealing with complexity of the latter for the empty calories of the former regardless of the quality gap between the two. if anything, watching the popularity of imogen and laudna's relationship has cemented my opinion that if veth had been different (either a man or a generically attractive white woman or someone more conventionally pretty just in general), widobrave would have been a massively popular ship, and i think it would have been regardless of veth's marriage. people can forgive a lot to write about their two generically attractive favorites getting together. they're a lot less forgiving for an ugly goblin or a fat, brown young mother, though.

tldr: reject modernity, embrace tradition. ship widobrave

*Talks Machina for C2E88, VOD no longer available, but a paraphrase of the quote can be found here **(2:09:30 on the YouTube VOD).

[imsofreakingtired]

I am so so so so sorry if this is too close to nsfw (in my head it's very fluff/comfort but I apologise if it makes you uncomfortable bc I'm not sure), but thinking about Sevika w/ a partner who's been pressured by their ex's into doing things like sexually and her just reassuring them that like no baby I wanna hold you what r you talking ab I've been here all of 15 seconds I'm not tryna fuck calm down

And her partner who is so so surprised wdym ??? You just wanna spoon me isn't this the part where you grope my chest and Sevika is like BABY NO

I don't know I'm using her to cope this is so self indulgent I just wanna hear your thoughts on it

i love this idea, thank you for the request anon...and shitt this one was so personally relatable to me 😔

things i wanna say to you

content warning(s): mentions of trauma from past relationships, angst, hurt/comfort

"there's things i wanna say to you, but i'll just let you live like if you hold me without hurting me you'll be the first who ever did."

~~~

“Your beauty…it’s a blessing.”

It’s a sentence that returns and returns to you. It’s a truth you hold in your hands, or wear on your shoulders like a mantle you can’t take off. You have heard it, in one form or another, from the lips of lover to lover. They whispered it to you in the heat of sex, like a special confession only for you, and then vanished like a vapor. 

Your body is like a hotel, you think—a pretty room that people pass through and love only in the moment. When was the last time you were held without the other person’s hands hungrily seeking your breasts? When was the last time you were kissed without their hands roaming your body like an impatient, starved animal? 

Once, you had worked up the courage to confront them. You told them, “hands off.” You don’t exactly remember how the conversation went. But you know that it ended in them laughing in your face, suggesting you work at Babette’s if you wanted compensation for your body. 

When they were gone, you stood in the silent room and wondered if they were right. You wondered if it was your fault. If your body was the only good thing, the only worthy thing about you. If you were nothing more than a pretty face and a blank canvas waiting to be ruined. If you were asking too much when you asked for even just a shadow of respect. 

You stopped speaking after that. 

~~~

Shortly after you began to work for Silco as his record scribe, you met his henchwoman, Sevika. Immediately you knew she was different. She didn’t look at you the way others did—in fact, she barely looked at you at all. When she spoke to you she looked down at you over her hooked nose, her handsome, perfect nose, in a way that made you feel both insignificant and the only woman in the entire world. She didn’t give you flattery about your appearance, spoke bluntly when you made mistakes. 

Still you caught her staring at you from time to time when she thought you were too immersed in work to notice. But her face betrayed nothing. Her brows were always drawn together as if everything in the world annoyed her. You assumed she was only scrutinizing the way you worked. You wondered if Silco had ordered her to monitor you, assess your performance. You worked harder as a result, feeling oddly gratified to be watched for a reason other than your appearance. 

So one could imagine your shock when Sevika strode up to your desk one morning and said, “get your coat. Walk with me.” 

From that day on, you were hers. 

~~~

The first night you moved into her apartment had been a hard day at work. You had been at the desk all day without a single break, trying frantically to keep up with the endless flow of Shimmer shipment records and orders. Sevika had been on her feet from dawn to dusk—you hadn’t seen her for two consecutive minutes even though you worked in the same building. 

The night had deepened, the sky outside dusted with faint stars. You were undressing for bed. If you were tired, how exhausted must Sevika be? You paused in front of the mirror before you slipped the nightshirt over your body. Maybe she would want to let off some steam. Maybe she expected it from you. Hesitantly, you put the nightshirt on. You didn’t want to, but you felt like you owed it to her. Like she deserved it.

Sevika came in, her mechanical arm detached and water glistening on her face from a quick wash. She smiled slightly when she saw you waiting on the bed. “There’s my girl. C’mere.”

She sank into the bed you now shared with her, and obediently you crawled over and folded yourself into her embrace. Her right arm curled around you protectively. Her warmth, her strength, the tautness of her muscles against your skin. It was heavenly. 

She sighed into your neck, and it made you shiver slightly. The question tiptoed to the end of your tongue: can we…can we maybe just stay like this? 

But you feared she would say no. You feared she would be mad. And leave you. 

You waited for her to make the next move, to start pulling the shirt over your head, or turn you around so she could grope between your legs. When several seconds passed and she did nothing, you realized that maybe she was waiting for you. 

Reluctantly, you pulled yourself away and began to take off your shirt. 

Sevika sat up, confused. “What are you doing?”

You freeze in your movements. Your shirt falls back down over your chest. “I—you don’t want to…?”

She shook her head, lips curling in a bemused smile. “Baby, relax. I’ve been here fifteen seconds.”

Slowly, you returned to her, and she pulled you close once more. Sevika felt the shudder of relief that went through your body. Though you didn’t see it, her face creased with concern. She had noticed the apprehension in your eyes, nearly bordering on fear. And she made a mental note to herself to find whatever fucker had hurt you and made you so scared. 

~~~

[cometconmain]

Personally, when I created the writeup I have on my blog giving a brief rundown of my blog in the description it was less of a "don't interact because I don't know how/refuse to use a block button" in the sense described here and more intended as what I originally thought a DNI was supposed to be:

"I don't tolerate actual bigoted behaviour so don't waste your time coming in here thinking we'll be friends only to spring some bigoted bullcrap on me later thinking that was a normal thing to believe/say/do. Don't waste your time and don't waste mine. Here's where I stand on these real life actual problem things so you can just bail if you're not ready to accept that. If you can't critically consume fictional media and don't have anything substantial to say in your critical consumption, I don't have time for you so save your breath and mine and go back to your purity cult. Also if you're under 18 this blog is not for you. I am an adult and don't wish to have minors running around pretending like we're all chill with having kids on a blog with adult-only content actually when I don't kmow you exist or haven't been told in some way that you shouldn't be here despite how clear I've made it that this is an adult-only space. Leave.

And if I find out you're any of these types of people I WILL be curating my internet experience by blocking you."

You know? There are different ways to use DNIs that aren't "fuck you no you put all the effort in to not expose me to you" and are instead intended more like "Hey look interact if you want but I'm warning you that you're wasting your time long term if you think you can be shitty to real life people right in front of my salad, so to save us both the hassle I'm leaving it up to you specifically because I have no idea you exist and can't block you until I do so feel free to take that first step since you know we won't gel and you know I exist while I have not yet had the displeasure."

That said, people definitely shouldn't put real life issues next to fandom preferences and gripes. It defangs serious real world issues by trying to take the fangs off them and slap them directly onto the fictional things to lend credence to them because the person doing it doesn't know how to express their discomfort well enough to feel heard about it/expect people to dismiss anything they say out of hand so they grab whatever closest thing from real world issues already considered serious which could kind of fit if you do a handstand and squint through a cloud of steam. Which has the opposite effect, because now people are (rightfully) angry at them for trivialising real world issues to make people treat their perspective on fictional media seriously.

If you know how to criticise media and/or make sure you know the difference between actually potentially harmful handling of a theme within fictional media vs something made you uncomfortable and you want to express it and feel heard as part of processing it but don't know how, then you probably won't feel as strong of - if any - need to play up what you have a problem with. Because a) you know how to express your position to get people to listen to you, b) don't need strangers on the internet to validate you to know you're right because you're versed in identifying and talking about how to fix this problem in media causing potential harm to a marginalised group or otherwise teaching potentially harmful perspectives and here's why... and c) you know when something is just bothering you personally and probably have some healthier copes for it, like ranting into the void on your own post without using any main fandom tags and/or ranting to your friends and/or writing fix-it fic and or- you get the gist.

The day we start doing more of that is the day this whole 'anti-shipper' and responding 'pro-shipper' thing will probably calm down a little bit.

i don't respect DNIs not in the sense i go out of my way to break them but in the sense that i don't respect DNIs as a concept and consider them to be something of a red flag in general.

i'm not sure how to explain it but it's the combination of usually putting very serious issues on the same level as fandom stuff, the fact that half the time people don't even know what they're against beyond 'the bad stuff' therefore even further watering these issues down, and the idea that other people are expected to manage your online existence for you.

there's a passiveness to it that i think is actually a problem and it does not surprise me in the slightest that people with DNIs tend to view what media they consume as activism. do you get what i'm saying.

[lovelytsunoda]

club tropicana | lando norris

summary: on an all inclusive holiday in ibiza, y/n finds herself falling head over feet for the charming british barman

pairing: bartender!lando norris x female! reader

warnings: reader has some crappy former friends, please do not get into a car with a barman at a shitty three star spanish resort (lowkey inspired by my 'benidorm' rewatch), cameos from carlos and fernando, im so sorry that this took me literally a month and a half to write.

club tropicana drinks are free / fun and sunshine, its enough for everyone all that's missing is the sea / but don't you worry, you can suntan

the sun beat down on the resort-goers, reflecting off the chlorinated water in the swimming pool. sunbeds were arranged around the large body of water. swimmers in the pool sat on mosaic stools underwater to order drinks at the swim up bar.

she was supposed to be on this trip with her friends. well, some friends they were. ending a friendship over text with about six weeks left in her second-to-last university semester before graduation.

and so she had gone alone, to the most affordable three-and-a-half star resort in ibiza. truth be told, she hadn't wanted to go to the party island in the first place. if she didn't leave the resort, it wouldn't even matter.

bookmarking her page, she sat her copy of dark sacred night down on the sunbed and strode towards the pool. the pool was crowded, but the swim-up seats at the bar were, unfortunately, the easiest way to get a drink at the resort.

she took a deep breath and ducked below the water, swimming over to where the bar was. she liked being underwater. all her senses were dulled, and the noise of the real world seemed to fade away.

"one vodka orange, please." her voice was quieter than intended when she sat down at the bar, and for a moment she worried that the barman couldn't hear her.

"coming right up, love." the barman was british, with a mop of curly hair and a pale yellow resort shirt that had the name 'lando' embroidered over the heart. he winked at her as he got the vodka down from a shelf behind the bar and began to mix her drink.

lando wasn't oblivious to the understated beauty of the girl in front of him, water running down her soft skin and dipping into the curve between her breasts. her wide, gentle eyes. the way the orange fabric of her swimsuit hugged her curves.

she was wearing a one-piece, a rarity in ibiza.

"so," he asks, setting the drink down in front of her. "what brings you to spain"?

he always asks, even if he doesn't care. but one thing he's noticed since he started working behind the bar is that everybody has something to say, and sometimes they just need a stranger to say it too.

kind of like the characters in that old billy joel song, the one about the piano and the man at the bar making love to his tonic and gin.

and she doesn't know what it is about lando that put her so at ease, but suddenly shes talking and talking and can't make it stop and now he knows all about the three years of friendships she forged at university and how all she had to show for it were two refunded ryanair flights and a text message saying that they 'needed space' and 'our friendship will not be continuing at this time' with no explanation of what she had done to push them away in the first place.

funny that.

"does that sound ridiculous?" she cringed. "it sounds really silly now that i've said it out loud."

"people come to ibiza for dumber reasons. i worked in benidorm for two years, and you should see the train wrecks that come through there." lando laughed, leaning against the tiled bar. "you're better off without them, if you ask me. they sound very catty."

"catty is saying it nicely." she laughed along, sipping her vodka orange.

talking with lando was easy. more so, it seemed like he genuinely cared, and that he wanted to listen. it had been a long time since she had felt like anyone wanted to listen to her. even still, the voices in her head were getting harsher and harsher.

"what are your plans for later?" lando asked, head cocked to the side. "i've got this friend, he owns a party boat company."

"lando, i'm not getting on a spanish party boat with a man i hardly know." she cringed, stomach flip-flopping. had she gotten the total wrong idea about him? he seemed like the kind of guy who would know just about everybody in ibiza, and probably half of benidorm as well. "does anything that i've just told you make you think that i would literally at all be interested?

lando raised his eyebrows. "you didn't let me finish, love. he also does nighttime stargazing tours. that far out on the water, there's nothing in the way of you, the sky and the stars. i thought that was much more up your alley. i could take you tonight if you wanted to."

she felt a pit in her stomach and cursed herself for jumping to conclusions. for a moment, the barman had looked genuinely hurt, right now, though, he looked at her with puppy-dog eyes, and expression that inevitably made her cave.

after all, she was on vacation.

and here she was, waiting in the lobby of the hotel in a low cut black halter dress. she'd done her makeup, which was a rarity. she was tempted to turn her location tracker on, but wondered who she would share it with. she could always tell the woman working reception to call her at a set time, and then the police if she didn't answer, she supposed.

lando pulled up outside in a little fiat 500, looking dapper in a collared shirt. his hair was visibly caked in gel, and he smelled like expensive cologne.

far more expensive than a barman should have been able to afford.

"are you ready for the night of your life, milady?"

she fought the blush, looking at his extended arm. no doubt he wanted her to link her arm through his. and they said that romance was dead.

"take it away, bartender."

the fiat should have felt cramped, but instead felt cozy. spanish synthpop music played on the radio, something uplifting and calming as lando drove through the cobbled ibiza streets. she looked out the window in wonder, eyes wide as the city nightlife passed them by.

all too soon, they had arrived at the dock, and lando was speaking rapid-fire spanish to another man who was leaning through the window. they laughed, and the spaniard clapped lando on the shoulder before taking a small handful of bills from him.

the barman stepped out of the fiat, crossing around the car to open her door and help her out of the little hatchback car.

"your carriage awaits." he grinned, cocking his head in the direction of the boat. "come on, i got us the best seats."

on the boat, an older dj was playing a wham! record, 'club tropicana' blaring out over the sound system.

"when does the bar open?" she asked quietly. "i'm craving something."

"in about twenty minutes, as soon as we leave port." lando replied, resting his hands on her waist. "in the meantime, can i tempt you to a dance?"

ah, why the hell not?

"hey, fernando," lando started before rattling off something in spanish. the dj nodded once before changing the record on his turntable.

spanish synthpop.

lando took her hands in his, pulling her closer for a spirited dance, his hips swinging back and forth with abandon. she fought the urge to burst out laughing as she let him pull her close. the sun was dipping low over the horizon, and down at the dock the deckhands were getting ready to leave port.

but with lando's hands burning into her skin as he lead her in something that might have vaguely resembled the tango, she had forgotten all about the fact that she was on a stargazing cruise, not a latin dance boat.

she only realized the song was over when the audience that had gathered around her and lando had started to clap. red faced and blushing, she dropped lando's hands and shyly pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

"i think im ready for that drink now."

lando beamed, resting his hand in the small of her back. "of course, sweetheart. vodka orange?"

"you know me so well."

lando effortlessly slid behind the bar, hands flying as he grabbed glasses and bottles and shakers. she leaned against the bar, chin in her hand as she watched him work, muscles rippling in his forearms underneath the rolled-up sleeves of his white shirt.

he winked at her as he passed her the glass. by now, the sun had fully dipped below the horizon, and if one craned their neck up, they would be able to see a glimmering landscape of stars, uninterrupted by the muted lights on the boat.

lando came to stand behind her, his hands resting on her waist, protectively holding her body to his.

"so, be honest, this just made your trip a whole lot better, didn't it?"

despite herself, she laughed, relaxing into his touch. "yeah, it really did. thank you, lando."

"wait," he started, hand moving to her chin. "my job isn't quite done yet."

"what are you-"

she didn't get a chance to finish as the barman touched his lips to hers. they were soft. way softer than any barman's lips should be, well taken care of like the rest of the brit in front of her. she fell, no, tumbled into the kiss, feeling herself falling faster with every second that they spent lip-locked.

and she knew that there was no way that barman wasn't coming home with her. who needs return flights anyways? maybe she could just stay in ibiza and snog him for the rest of her her working life.

for now, though, she'd just settle with getting him into her hotel room.

[thetardisisnotourdivision]

Ok we have another one to add to the list!!!!!!

So I've seen a lot of people arguing about the whole "but Marinette made the decision for him!" thing in Werepapas, and honestly I think it's another Lady Macbeth/Baby It's Cold Outside scenario.

So the argument here, if you don't know it, is whether Lady Macbeth pressured Macbeth into killing the King, or whether she saw that it was what he wanted to do, and encouraged him because his conscience was getting in the way of something he clearly wanted to do. I can't be arsed to explain Baby It's Cold Outside but you get the gist.

So, the argument here is - Adrien still doesn't get to make his own decision. But did Marinette make the decision for him, or did she encourage him towards the decision he was always going to make? To me, the part where Adrien said he didn't know what he wanted was VERY in character. It read very much as him not wanting to offend anyone or cause another fight (like the one they literally JUST went through). But, really, was he ever going to make a different decision? He was choosing between Nathalie, who from the flashbacks and *gestures* the Rest Of The Series clearly cares about him, he knows her well, she loves him. Or a couple of strangers he just met that day. Adrien clearly, throughout the episode, expresses that he wants to stay in Paris, with Nathalie, and he is repeatedly ignored. To me, this moment is not Marinette making the decision for him - it's her standing up for him and saying to him that he can speak his mind. Remember, Adrien's spent his whole life under his father's thumb. He never could say what he wanted for fear of retaliation.

There IS a theme of other people making decisions for Adrien, obviously with the grandparents, but also with Nathalie herself. I will defend her until the ends of the Earth, but she did decide on her own that Adrien would be better off with biological family - granted, there's CLEARLY something influencing this feeling, plus the grandparents talking about how she's not family and has no right to look after Adrien, I wouldn't be surprised if there's some kind of backstory there - but once again, even though she thinks it's for the best, and the best thing for Adrien even if it hurts her (which it clearly does), she's still making a decision for Adrien. She's blinded by the fact that she's obviously at some point been told that she's not his family and never will be (the guilt from being Mayura and aiding and abetting his father is probably coming into play too) and so she makes a decision that ultimately, Adrien should have had a say in. And Marinette, like she did in the Special, puts her foot down and says, actually, you are his family, or the closest thing left, so listen to him when he says you are. I also found it very funny when Marinette literally tells Nathalie "you're an adult", and follows it up with basically "so do something about this". But you get my gist - ALL of the characters are making decisions for Adrien, and Marinette SEES this, and encourages Adrien to make the decision HE wants, and not the one that will please his grandparents.

[drewswife]

summary: Rafe Cameron takes y/n golfing for the first time

warnings: fluff, s3 Rafe, y/n is lowkey ditzy in this

"Okay, okay, I think I've got this," you say, adjusting the tiny pink visor Rafe insisted you wear. You grip the golf club like it's a foreign object, which, honestly, it kind of is.

Rafe stands behind you, his hands gently covering yours. "Relax, sweetheart. It's just a swing. Don't think too much."

"Easy for you to say," you mutter, eyeing the golf ball with suspicion. "You've been doing this since you were in diapers."

"Alright, alright," he chuckles, stepping away slightly. "Just remember what I told you. Feet shoulder-width apart, bend your knees a little, and keep your eye on the ball."

You try to mimic his stance, but end up wobbling precariously. "Are you sure this is how humans are supposed to stand?"

Rafe laughs, his arm snaking around your waist to steady you. "You're adorable," he whispers, his breath tickling your ear. "Now, focus."

Taking a deep breath, you try to remember his instructions. You swing the club back, but lose your balance and end up flailing wildly. Instead of a satisfying thwack, there's a pathetic thud as the club connects with the ground.

"Oops," you say sheepishly, offering Rafe an apologetic smile.

He bursts out laughing, but there's fondness in his eyes. "Don't worry, you'll get it eventually."

"I don't know," you sigh, feeling a bit discouraged. "Maybe I'm just not cut out for golfing."

"Nonsense," Rafe says, taking the club from you. "Here, let me show you something."

He demonstrates a perfect swing, the club connecting with the ball in a resounding crack. The ball soars through the air, landing impressively close to the hole.

"Wow," you breathe, genuinely impressed. "That was amazing."

"See?" Rafe says, grinning at you. "It's not that hard."

"Yeah, but you're a pro," you point out. "I'm just a beginner."

"Then let me teach you," he says, stepping closer. He places his hands on your waist, gently guiding you into the correct position. His touch sends shivers down your spine. "Just relax and feel the swing."

With his help, you manage to make contact with the ball, sending it flying a few yards down the fairway. It's not the most impressive shot, but it's a start.

"See? You're a natural," Rafe says, beaming at you.

"Maybe with a lot more practice," you admit, grinning back.

The rest of the afternoon is spent in a similar fashion. You shank a few shots, whiff completely a couple of times, but with Rafe's patient guidance, you start to improve. More importantly, you're having fun.

As the sun begins to set, you and Rafe walk hand-in-hand back to the clubhouse.

"Thanks for taking me golfing," you say, leaning your head on his shoulder. "I had a really great time."

"Anytime, baby," he says, kissing the top of your head. "Maybe we can make this a regular thing."

"I'd like that," you reply, smiling to yourself. Maybe golf wasn't so bad after all

a/n: for @chrissweetheart' and if there are spelling mistakes lmk!

taglist: @chrislilcumslvt @chrepsi

dividers by @bernardsbendystraws

[checkeredtablesloth]

I need to start this by saying I think this is fabulous, and I don't want it to stop!!! But I just want you guys all to remember that the portion of Chinese people on social media can afford similar lives to us. The wealth gap is huge. Our poorest are not the same as their poorest. There are still parts of China that do not have access to ANY healthcare, or even running water. There will be bias in regards to who you're talking to.

Remember that censorship in China is more extensive than ours by far. Most people in China do not know what the state doesn't want them to know. Remember that Xiaohongshu is scrubbed clean, and sanitized. Remember that by no fault of their own, most Chinese people don't have the full picture outside of their own life experiences.

That being said, as far as what is being said on this post. No. You don't pay property tax. You also don't own your land exactly. Very technically you are leasing it... Kind of. It's complicated. From who? The government. They own the land for real, they just mostly let you do what you want. I'm serious. As far as I'm aware, this has not changed. That's why there's no property tax. See what I mean? Not the full picture.

I could be wrong. I don't know the language, and some of my knowledge is dated. But I am mixed Chinese, and have lived with my Chinese family for a month at a time in the past. I've been to rural China and can speak on my experiences, at the very least.

Anyway. Sorry to rain on everyone's parade :') Please continue. It's beautiful. Just be critical of what you are told is all.

"Uhhhhhhhhh dont romanticize china" nobody is, stupid. People are learning that Chinese citizens are regular people like themselves. They have big problems with their government too, just like us. They do not, however, appear to struggle as much as Americans do just to survive. A bunch of them have expressed shock and horror at how easy it is to become homeless in America and how hard it is to get back out of homelessness. Literally that one thing alone would make China a safer place for many Americans to live. That and the cheap health care, cheap housing, and lack of property taxes. Literally the country our own government paints as a suffering hellhole is still easier to be poor in than this one.

[arc-misadventures]

Son-in-law Bonding

Jaune: So... Red Hood...?

Red Hood: Athena is just fine, Love.

Jaune: So, Athena... Why... Why did you invite me out here?

Athena: Why? Well, because I wanted to test your blade.

Jaune: My blade? You were testing my potential as a Huntsmen?

Athena: Yeah. Pyrrha is a hell of a Huntress-in-training, she'll probably become more famous than myself when she become a full blown, Huntress.

Athena: I've had lots of people both after myself, and my daughter, trying to use our fame, or the power of our family supposedly has. I've started filtering out all the trash to keep their slimy little hands off of myself, and my daughter.

Jaune: Oh, thank you.

Athena: 'THank you?' For what?

Jaune: For looking after, Pyrrha such as you did.

Athena: Oh... Well, I just love my family... After losing my sister, and her husband, Pyrrha is all that I have left... So I'm going to do whatever I can to protect her.

Jaune: I understand, if someone hurt my family... Well as the saying goes: 'Demons run when a good man goes to war.'

Athena: I have certainly made my fair shar of demons run. IT's quite fun watching them run! Several of the poor bastards pissed themselves when I went after them~!

Jaune: Pfft! Now that must have been a sight to see.

Athena: Yeah after I threw one out of my house... from the second story window. They finally back off. Mostly. None of those bastards are worth me, or my daughter.

Jaune: And, what about me; Am I worth anything?

Athena: ...

Athena: When my daughter first mentioned you, I thought you were another sweet talker trying to steal my girl away from me. But, you never even knew who she was when you two first met. And, even after you got to know her you just treated her as your friend. And, when you started dating you were more concerned about her well being instead of your own. I always hopped she would find a friend like you, even more so now since she found a lover like you. You're worth your weight in gold, Jaune. I am honoured, and proud to have my daughter date a man such as yourself.

Jaune: O-Oh... Thank you... That means a lot to hear. Thank you, Athena.

Athena: My pleasure love.

Jaune: But, how am I as a Huntsman?

Athena: Well, Pyrrha told me how you cheated your way into, Beacon Academy.

Jaune: Ahh yeah... that happened...

Athena: Pretty ballsy of you kid. I admire that! You are still a bit green, but I can see you become one hell of a, Huntsman one day!

Jaune: Oh, thank you, Athena! That mean's a lot to hear from my childhood hero

Athena: I'll happily give you some training if your interested?

Jaune: I would love that!

Athena: Alright! Now it's time for some fun!

Jaune: F-Fun?

Athena: Yeah, you think me testing your skills as a Huntsman-in-training was the only reason why I asked you out here?

Jaune: Well... Yeah?

Athena: Well you're wrong! I asked you out here, because I wanted to test you out. Only this time without, Pyrrha around.

Jaune: Another training bout?

Athena: Something like that...

'Click.'

Jaune: Uhh... what are you...?!

'Boing~!'

Jaune: ...?!

Athena: Alright, Jaune ready for me to test out your 'blade~?'

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Aura don't fail me now.

Athena: Haha~!

Athena: Bring it on, Love~!

///

Here's another one, @lar-mx

Question: I'm callings this pairing of, Red Hood, and Jaune: Yellowhood. Does that sound good?

Link to Art

[keyaho]

ℍ𝕒𝕝𝕗𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 : 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈𝐭 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧

summary: Gianna has been best friends with Terry Richmond since they were in primary school. While she pursued higher education by chasing the title of Dr. he became a force on the field. When life smacks her friend in the face, Gianna does what she can to help.

word count: 1k

Fulton County Courthouse - 0845AM - Smith v Richmond

Judge Matthews had taken his seat as Gianna watched as Terry's shoulders straightened. She couldn't see his face, but each time she saw his side profile it was tight lipped and tense. His eyes were hard and she was glad she wasn't on the receiving end of them. 

I don't like my time being wasted. He said, while shuffling papers in front of him. So I thank both pirates for making this straightforward. Sliding on his glasses, the judge lifted the one paper they were all here for. In the case of paternity of two year old Carter Smith, Mr. Terrance Richmond, you are…….NOT the father. 

"NO!" 

The judge pointed a hard look to the plaintiff, Keisha Smith, Terry's ex-girlfriend. A few months ago Terry had discovered Keisha had cheated on him and the little boy he had grown to love and adore was not his. Gianna saw Terry's shoulders slump forward and the defeat in his eyes wasn't missed by her. She knew her best friend. 

"Ms. Smith,' the judge sighed, "the next time you come through the Fulton County court system it had better because the right person is on the other side of this court room. I implore you to think carefully in the future." 

Judge Matthews then turned his head towards Terry. 

"Mr. Richmond,' he states cooly, "I can see that you are attached to the child as expected given the circumstances and it is up to you what your next steps will be, but as I've told Ms. Smith, I implore you as well to think carefully in the future." 

When the gavel slammed down, Gianna jumped. As soon as the judge left, Keisha shot up from her chair, nearly knocking it over, and tried to make her way over to Terry's side. 

"That test is a lie!" She screamed, the life she had become used to was gone, for good now. "He's your son! I don't care what that test says!" 

Terry worked his jaw and stepped around his lawyer. The last thing he wanted to do was face the camera and reporters out front so he had asked her to find another way out. The alley in the back was perfect. Gianna went ahead of him as he spoke with his parents. 

Terry's Penthouse - Noon

Gianna stepped out of her room to a dark house. The curtains were drawn shut and the interior lights were off. After court they had gone for a quick breakfast. He ate and she tried to make sure he knew she was here when he was ready to talk. Instead, he drove them back to the apartment and retreated to his room. She caught herself up on a class assignment then took a nap, setting her alarm so she didn't sleep the day away. 

The large living room was devoid of the warmth that used to be in it. The toys Terry had bought were gone. She didn't have to go check what used to be Carter's room to know Terry had cleaned it out already. Pulling her phone from her hoodie, she placed an order for takeout to be delivered so they had something to eat. 

"Terry,' Gianna called as she walked towards his bedroom. 

Before she could get to his door her phone buzzed multiple times. Most were from his family asking if he was okay because he wasn't picking up the phone. They knew she stayed with him and would go through her to get to him when needed. Gianna knew they just wanted to be there for him, but he wasn't talking. Keisha had called him several times trying to guilt him into caring for Carter. Eventually, she told him it needed to be through a lawyer if he decided to stay in touch with him. She always asked if he wanted that headache, because she wasn't going to make it easy. 

Pushing open the door to his suite, Gianna found Terry awake in bed, watching previous season tapes. It didn't look like he had slept and the used tissue beside the bed let her know he had been crying. 

"I ordered take out from Sharks. It should be here in about thirty minutes." 

Instead of replying, he patted the bed. Maybe he was ready to open up. When she was settled against the pillows he turned down the volume of the TV. 

"Would it be wrong if I walked away from Carter." 

"I can't-'

"Just answer honestly. Would you still,' he says, frustration laced in his voice as he tried not to give into his emotions again. "Be there?"

"It would be hard,' she replied. "Keisha isn't going to make it easy, Terry. If you agree to stay in Carter's life, you're not going to be able to walk away." 

"So you would walk away." He says. 

Gianna sighed. "It's not about what I want in the end. "You had your relationship and son taken from you over the past six months. You're not in the right headspace to make that decision." 

Her eyes flicked to the TV. The new season was about to start and as his best friend she often helped him out during. Pre-season was no joke and he thanked her each time the season went smooth. They were Superbowl bound this year and nothing was going to stop them this time. She was beginning her doctoral program at Clark and had a bit more leeway as she was diving into her thesis research. She wanted to create a profitable thesis and what better thing to study than football? Specifically the various teams and their cultures, however, she framed it through the lens of literature paralleling plays to stage plays. 

"Right,' he sighs. "Leave it to you to be reasonable." 

"One of us has to be." 

Gianna was always the grounded one. The responsible one of the two. He came to her with everything and she felt more like a manager than a friend at times. This time to the season stressed him because it was all eyes on him again. This time there was an expectation he would lead the Falcons to a Superbowl win. That was pressure. 

"Whatever you decided I'm here for you." 

Terry looked at Gianna and took her hand. "Thanks, Gigi." 

taglist:

@nayaesworld @peachbuttetfly @heauxvibez @avoidthings @mymindisneverhere @eilujion @heytaewrites  @insidefeelingofanadult @captainwithoutmakingitlove  @kindofaintrovert @jimmybutlrr @beenathembo  @virgomess  @theereina @randomhood @ash-ketchumzzz @megamindsecretlair 

@wabi-sabi1090 @iterum-incipi @liquorlaughslove @eilujion @taureanstargirl @mzv11@Disc0fair @prettyfilmz @simplyzeeka @heytaewrites vivaalenaa theogbadbitch

Insertcatchynamerighthere writingsbytee pocketsizedpanther

[cookiesandbiscuits]

Hi, there! :D

I saw the new event and it want to participate, If it is not too much trouble, I would like to request:

Type: One Shot Prompt: FRIENDS TO LOVERS: "But [Silver]… we are friends." "…Yes, but–" "But I would very much like to be more than friends." Character: Silver (Twst) x Fem Prefect

Idea: I was thinking of a scenario where Silver and the prefect become increasingly closer by spending time together in the forest behind the campus (where the ancient tree is)

It's just an idea, if my order doesn't convince you, you can discard it, but if not, take your time and don't pressured. Thanks. Bye! <3

Inexplicably Drawn to You

In which your unexpected friendship with the man you met in the forest turns into something more.

Pairing: Silver x Fem!Reader

Prompt: "But [Character Name]... we are friends." "...Yes, but–" "But I would very much like to be more than friends."

A/N: Hello! Thank you for sending your request! Writing stories is one of the main reasons why I made this blog three years ago, so I appreciate every request I receive in my inbox ^^

I apologize for posting this late. The editing part took a while since this became quite long. I hope you enjoy this story!

Other notes: Reader is Yuu/prefect; uses Y/N in place of a name

» 300 Follower Milestone Event

» MASTERLIST

It was purely a coincidence meeting him that day.

You have always been drawn to the forest—its lush canopy and the whispers of its inhabitants always leaving you in awe. So when you discovered the forest behind Night Raven's campus, you were so eager to free your schedule for a visit.

And when the time finally came, it was everything you've ever imagined. The forest was peaceful and quiet; a perfect place to take a break from the usual chaos surrounding you.

You were so busy admiring the place that you didn't notice what was in front of you and you tripped.

Something, or rather, someone, was lying on the ground where you were walking.

You wanted to say something to the stranger who made you trip, but the serene look on his face made you think otherwise.

Looking closely, the man, who was sleeping as you noticed, was quite handsome. Him, adding the tranquil backdrop the forest provided, made for a spectacular sight. Just like—

"Like a prince from a storybook..." you murmured.

Just then, the stranger opened his eyes and met yours, making you jump.

"...Um, hi?" you waved awkwardly as the man continued to stare at you.

He blinked for a few moments before sitting upright.

In a groggy voice, he asked, "What time is it?"

"Time? Well..." you paused for a moment to think. "I've been here for about 30 minutes now, and I came here at around 4 PM, so I'm guessing it's already 4:30 PM."

The man widened his eyes and stood up.

"I slept on for too long. I must hurry, or I'll be late. Thank you for your assistance."

He bowed, and before you could even say anything, he had already left.

You could only blink at how quickly everything had happened.

"What'cha up to, Prefect?"

You flinched when two hands suddenly grabbed you by the shoulders.

"Ace! You almost gave me a heart attack!" you shrilled.

"Haha, you shoulda seen the look on your face— ow! What the hell, dude! What was that for?"

Ace frowned at Deuce, who only sighed at his classmate's behavior.

"You shouldn't scare people like that, Ace." He then turned to look at you. "Anyways, what are you doing, Prefect?"

"Nothing much. I'm just drawing," you smiled, showing your sketchpad to the two.

"Woah, you're pretty damn good at this," Ace marveled as he looked through the pages.

"I didn't know you can draw," said Deuce.

You shrugged. "It's just one of my pastime hobbies."

"Ooh, who's this guy?" Ace pointed the latest illustration in your sketchpad.

It was the sleeping man you met in the forest.

"I don't know," you answered, taking your sketchpad back from Ace's hands.

"What do you mean "you don't know"?"

"I just told you. I don't know." You started to put away your stuff in your bag. "I never asked his name."

Ace raised a brow on your statement. "So you drew a guy you don't know? Like what, you got a crush on him or something?"

"Wha-?! No!" you sputtered. "I just thought he's pretty, okay? And I like drawing pretty things."

"Riiiight..." The ginger-haired teen smirked.

"I told you, that's not it!" you screeched, your cheeks slowly reddening at Ace's teasing.

But the boy only laughed at your reaction. Even Deuce couldn't help but laugh too.

You can only sigh in frustration. "Ugh, you guys are terrible!"

"I swear, those two..." you grumbled as you drew the wild anemone you found.

"Oh, it's you..."

"Huh?"

You whipped your head towards the voice. It was the man your friends were teasing you with earlier.

"Oh, hello..." you greeted.

"What are you doing?" he tilted his head as he asked.

"I'm just— drawing! Yes, just drawing this this flower here," you said, opting not to voice out the reason of your grumbling.

"I see..." the man replied.

The silence that followed was long. You thought the man had already left, but to your surprise, he crouched down beside you.

Unable to take it any longer, you spoke. "So, did you get there on time?"

"Hm? Oh, you mean the last time we met. Yes, I did. And it's all thanks to you."

You waved your hand. "There's no need to thank me. Besides, you've already thanked me before."

"But still... if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have woken up in time for my club activity."

"Ah." You recalled tripping over him the first time you met. "Sorry for tripping over you, by the way."

"It's alright," he replied.

".........."

".........."

Another moment of silence.

"Say," you started. "Do you come here often?"

The man nodded. "I find the forest calming."

You looked down at the wild anemone in front of you. "I see... I hope I'm not causing too much trouble for you."

"Not at all. How about you? Do you visit here often too?"

"When the time allows me to," you responded. "Though I try my best to visit as much as I can."

You turned to look at him.

"Since it's most likely that we'll run into each other a lot here, it's probably best to know each other's names, right?"

Reaching out a hand, you smiled. "I'm Y/N, and you are...?"

"Silver. My name is Silver."

"It's very nice to meet you, Silver."

From that day on, spending your time in the forest with Silver became a common occurrence.

True to his appearance, he was nothing short of a gentleman to you, always making sure you were doing fine during your visits.

You learned that he was a second-year student from Diasomnia and that he was part of the Equestrian Club with Riddle, and along with a first-year named Sebek, he is training to become a retainer for Malleus Draconia, the heir apparent of Briar Valley.

You felt at ease with him, grateful that you found a person aside from your first-year friends to open up to.

And he would always lend an ear to listen to your stories.

You found his presence comforting, just like the forest that has now become a special place for the two of you.

It didn't take long before the feelings of friendship you felt for him had developed into something more.

"Alright, I'm gonna do it."

You announced, clenching your hands with determination.

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Ace asked.

"I'm gonna tell him I like him."

"Finally!" the gingerhead cheered. "I was getting sick of hearing you pine for him every day, to be honest— ack! Dude, you've gotta stop hitting me at the back of my head!"

"I'll stop once you stop being so rude," Deuce replied. "I'll be rooting for you, Prefect!"

You smiled. "Thanks, Deuce. I'll be off then!"

Giving them a small wave, you rushed to the second-years' classrooms, your heart pounding with hope and excitement.

However, that feeling will soon be crushed as soon as you reached your destination.

"This is it, right?"

You panted as you read the sign above the doorframe: "2-A"

You were about to knock when you heard people talking inside, making you pause.

"...Are you two dating?"

"...No, we're not."

You blinked, hearing Silver among the voices you heard.

"The Prefect and I are only good friends, nothing more."

Oh.

Your gaze fell on the floor.

Of course, what were you thinking? It's not like he was doing all those things when you were together because he sees you as more than a friend. It was you who gave those gestures a different meaning.

Laughing bitterly to yourself, you made the walk back to Ramshackle.

"So, how did it go?"

Along with Deuce and Grim, Ace greeted you with his signature grin the moment you walked in Ramshackle's common room.

You could only give them a bittersweet smile in return.

"What, don't tell me you got— mmph!"

Covering Grim's mouth with his free hand, Ace threw a bag of chips in your direction. "You know what? Screw that guy. He doesn't even know what he's missing out on."

"Y-yeah, Ace is right," Deuce chimed in. "Don't worry, Prefect. We're here for you."

After a moment, you sighed, feeling an immense gratefulness for your two friends.

"Thanks, you guys."

"Y-yeah, sure..."

"Pwah! Alright, that's enough! Are we gonna eat these snacks or what?" Grim exclaimed, having wriggled out of Ace's grip.

"Oi, Grim! Don't you dare eat all of the snacks this time, you hear me?" Ace turned to look at your furry roommate, who was already stuffing his mouth full.

Letting out a small laugh, you sat beside Deuce who only shook his head as the other two in the room continued bickering.

You really are lucky to have them as friends.

"Oh..."

You softly gasped as you bumped into the person you have been avoiding all week: Silver.

"Ah... hello, Prefect. You must be here for Professor Crewel's class."

"Y-yes, I am..." you replied awkwardly. "And you? What are you doing here in the lab?"

"Oh, you haven't heard yet? The first-years and second-years will be having a joint class today."

"Really...?" You felt your stomach drop. "I see..."

In that moment, Professor Crewel entered the room. "Alright, puppies, take your seats."

"As I have explained yesterday, we will be making Morpheus's Elixir for today's class. However, as this is a fairly complicated potion, I have assigned to your group a second-year who will guide you in making the potion. Failure to make the potion will cause you to take a remedial class, understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Then I will assign your guides now. Group 1..."

"For Y/N's group, Silver here will be your guide."

"What?!" you exclaimed.

Professor Crewel narrowed his eyes at your sudden outburst. "Do you have any problem with the assignment, Miss Y/N?"

"Ah— no, sir. I apologize."

After Crewel left your table, you sighed. Just your rotten luck, you thought.

"Are you alright, Prefect?" Silver asked.

"Huh? Oh, yes, I'm fine! Never been better!"

"Are you sure—?"

"Yep! We should probably start making the potion now. Let's see..." you cut him off, changing the topic to your current activity.

"We need one teaspoon of stardust powder, three dried lavender spikes, five drops of midnight blue extract, one moondrop piece, and one cup of milk."

Before you could put the ingredients in the cauldron, someone grabbed your hands to stop you.

"Wait! Don't dump them in the cauldron all at once."

"Huh?"

It was Silver. You immediately moved your hands away from his, as if you'd be burned if you don't.

"Ah, sorry. The instruction said to boil them together," you said sheepishly.

"You're right. But the ingredients won't mix together properly if you just put them together."

Pouring the cup of milk in the cauldron, Silver continued to explain.

"You have to heat up the milk in low heat first. Once it starts to steam, put the stardust and ground moondrop piece gradually."

He then gave the moondrop to your group mate. "Ground this and the lavender, if you please."

"Wow... you're really good at this," you marveled, watching the purplish blue potion sparkle as you gently stirred it.

Silver smiled. "Not really... I just happened to be familiar with this potion since I used to make them whenever my father gets his bouts of nightmares."

"I see..."

After a moment, Silver spoke once again.

"I haven't seen you visit the forest for a while now..."

"Oh..." you paused. "I was just...busy, y'know... between doing the headmage's biddings, schoolwork, and keeping an eye on Grim, I haven't found the time to visit."

That was a lie, of course.

You just simply haven't had the strength to face him yet after overhearing the conversation he had with his classmate.

You wouldn't admit that to him, though.

"Then... will you be visiting today?"

"I'm... not sure."

"Oh..."

"......."

The space between the two of you were filled with thick silence which lasted until the end of the class.

Silver sighed as he put the cauldron away in the cabinet.

For some reason, you've been avoiding him for several days now.

Did he do something to offend you?

Mulling over the possible reasons of your avoidance, he left the lab and found you talking to one of your classmates.

He was about to say goodbye when he heard the boy shout.

"Prefect! I-I... I like you! Please go out with me!"

Silver remained quiet as he saw the scene unfold before him. It made his stomach churn, much to his confusion.

His eyes then shifted to you.

"Oh— um... thank you, but I can't," you replied.

He released a breath he didn't know he was keeping. How odd...

Suddenly, the boy grabbed your arm, making you wince.

"C-can't you give me just one chance? I promise I'll be good to you!"

"Wait, stop—"

"Hey."

Before he could think, Silver found yanking your classmate's hand from your arm, inserting himself between you and him.

"I believe the Prefect had already given her answer."

"Silver..."

"Tch, fine..." the boy said, irritated as he raised his hands in defeat and walked away.

After making sure he was out of sight, Silver turned to you. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah... I was just a little surprised, is all," you replied, rubbing the arm your classmate grabbed earlier.

He frowned. Your classmate must've gripped too hard that it even left a mark.

"Has this been happening to you regularly?"

"No, this is the first time this happened, actually."

He paused, eyeing your arm before speaking again. "Do you have somewhere else to be today?"

"No, I don't. Why?

"Then let me escort you back to Ramshackle Dorm."

"Huh?! You don't need to do that!"

However, he only shook his head. "I can't let you walk alone after that. Please, I insist."

After a few more convincing, Silver finally persuaded you into letting him walk you back home.

He sighed in relief as the two of you managed to reach Ramshackle without incident.

"Thank you for walking me back," you said as you opened the front door.

"Of course."

Suddenly, the familiar gingerhead appeared.

"Hey, Prefect!" Ace greeted. "...And Silver?!"

"Wait, Silver's here?"

Another familiar face appeared. This time, it was Deuce.

"Hey guys."

"Hello."

The two Heartslabyul students exchanged looks before looking at the prefect, who sighed.

"He insisted on walking me back."

"Okay..." Ace narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"Trappola, Spade." Silver turned to the two card soldiers. "Can I speak with you two? Please."

The gingerhead raised a brow before looking at the prefect.

"Do what you want. I'll be going inside and sleep." You waved your hand and went inside.

"Sure..."

"Say what?!"

The two blurted after Silver told them what happened earlier.

"I can't believe he did that..." Ace sighed.

"Yeah, that guy's gonna pay for that... No man should force a woman to do what he wants," Deuce cracked his knuckles as he spoke.

"Please, calm down, there's no need to retaliate. I will speak to the teachers regarding this. I only ask you to keep the Prefect company, in case something like this happens again."

"Say..." Ace suddenly turned to Silver, his eyes serious. "Why are you doing this?"

Silver's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I'm asking why are you doing all this effort for the Prefect? Don't get me wrong, we're still gonna do what you asked us to, I just don't get why you asked us for help too? Most people in this school would just tell the teachers what happened and go their merry way at best, but you even walked her home to make sure she arrived safely. What does the Prefect truly mean to you?"

He was taken aback at the first-year's question. "The Prefect is a precious friend of mine and—"

Ace scoffed, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Yeah, right."

"Ace! Don't be rude!" Deuce scolded. "I'm so sorry for my dorm mate's actions. He's only worried for our friend. Don't worry, we'll make sure the Prefect is safe."

Silver stared at Ace, who was scowling, for a moment before turning to Deuce.

"Thank you. And Ace?"

"What?"

"I know you're worried for the Prefect, but I promise you, I would never do anything to hurt her."

He then slightly bowed and left.

"Oh, Silver. Welcome back."

"Hello. What are you guys doing?"

Silver eyed his two dorm mates curiously.

"Oh, I'm just helping this guy write a love letter for his crush, the Ramshackle prefect," the first student replied.

"Hey! Don't tell him that!" the second student shrieked.

"...You like the Prefect?" Silver asked.

"Oh, he's absolutely smitten. Wouldn't stop talking about how cute and nice she is. I got sick of it so I told him to write a letter instead."

"I told you, stop! I don't need everybody to know my business!"

"Hey, speaking of which, you're a friend of the Prefect, right?" Student No. 1 smiled. "Mind helping this guy to ask his crush out?"

Ask the Prefect out...?

Silver felt his his chest twinge with unease.

As much as he'd like to help his dorm mates out, the Prefect is his friend. And she just experienced something terrible with love confessions earlier. If he helped them out, that might make her uncomfortable, and—

"O-on second thought..."

Student No. 1's voice broke him out of his stupor.

The man, who was looking paler by the minute, continued. "You must be busy with other things. Please, forget we asked!"

Grabbing his friend's arm, he rushed out of the room, leaving the unfinished love letter on the table.

Silver could only stare at the doorway in confusion.

"My, no wonder those two look like they saw a ghost. Why the frown?"

He turned to look at the new arrival.

"Father..."

Lilia smiled, before noticing the unattended letter on the table.

"What's this? A love letter?"

Silver nodded. "Those two left it behind."

"Young love... How nice." The older fae giggled. "Who's the recipient?"

"...The Ramshackle prefect."

"Oh... You mean your friend whom you met in the woods?"

"Yes."

Silver frowned at the letter in his adoptive father's hand.

"Are you upset that she's receiving a lot of attention from her admirers?"

Lilia waved the paper in his hand. "You've been staring at this like it's your greatest enemy."

"Oh..."

He let out a sigh. "I'm just worried about her."

Lilia raised a brow, urging him to continue.

"One of her admirers physically harassed her earlier. Who knows what might've happened if I wasn't there to intervene."

"Oh my..." Lilia scowled. "How distasteful. Is she alright?"

"Yes. I escorted her home to make sure she's safe."

The bat fae nodded. "That's good."

"And then there's that..."

Silver paused, unsure of what to say next.

"What do you mean?" Lilia asked.

"For some reason, I feel... restless." Silver ran a hand through his hair. "Like I want to hide her away from the others. Especially when I heard that student talk about her like that."

"Hoh..." Lilia hummed, his eyes filled with intrigue. "...Are you sure what you feel for her is only friendship?"

"What?" Silver furrowed his brows. "What is it then if not friendship?"

Lilia only shrugged at his question. "That's for you to find out! It would be less fun if I told you right away."

Grabbing his shoulder, Lilia ushered him to his room. "Now then, it's time for you to think long and hard for the answer, okay?"

"The answer, huh..."

Silver closed his eyes and opened them again, his line of sight never leaving your table in the cafeteria.

A few days had passed since the incident with your classmate happened. The teachers swiftly made an action with his report, sending the culprit into a two-week suspension and transferring him to a different section, making sure that the two of you never crossed paths during classes.

Your two friends from Heartslabyul also kept their promise, making sure you were never alone.

It's also been days since Lilia told him to go find the answer to his own question. Unfortunately, he still hasn't found the right answer to that.

He brought his attention back to your table.

You were laughing at something Ace had said.

Seeing you smile like that, unburdened with the troubles your life here had brought you, made him smile too.

He'd do anything to keep that smile of yours on your face.

And with that, realization slowly found its way to him.

Why he became downhearted when you said you were too busy to visit the forest.

Why he was so upset about the attention from your admirers.

Why he wanted to protect that precious smile of yours.

Ace and Lilia's questions came to Silver's mind.

"What does the Prefect truly mean to you?"

"...Are you sure what you feel for her is only friendship?"

The answer to those is...

"That's what you get for being overzealous," you said, still laughing at Ace's story.

The gingerhead only pouted at your reaction. "It's not funny! Don't you know how hard it is to catch those little guys?"

"At least that'll teach you not to use the school's resources to make a quick cash."

"Yeah, yeah. I get it, so stop laughing!"

"...Prefect."

You tensed as you heard that all too familiar voice. Taking a deep breath, you turned to look at him and smiled.

"Hi, Silver. Can I help you with something?"

"Are you free after class today?"

You eyed him curiously. "Yes. Why do you ask?"

"Then, can we meet in the forest today? I need to tell you something important."

You looked at your two friends and Grim, who gave you worried looks. You gave them a reassuring smile in return.

"Sure, I'll be there."

"I wonder what it is he wanted to talk about?" you said to yourself as you treaded the familiar path of the forest.

This is the first time you've visited this place since... that happened.

You shook your head and continued to walk.

Your feelings are still all over the place, although not as much as before. You've been trying your best to move on, but you are missing the time you've spent with Silver in this forest.

Speak of the devil, you thought, as you spotted the familiar figure lying on the forest floor.

"Seriously, it's a wonder how you can sleep in the cold hard ground so soundly," you chuckled, crouching beside him and brushing off the strands of hair blocking his face.

He must've felt your touch, as he stirred awake from his slumber after brushing off his hair.

"Morning, sleepyhead."

"Mm... Y/N..? Did I make you wait?"

You shook your head. "I just got here. I should be asking you that. Sorry I'm late."

Silver sat up from his sleeping spot. "It's alright."

He patted the space beside him, and you complied, sitting beside him on the ground.

The setting sun painted the sky in an array of colors, making you sigh in awe.

"Y/N."

"Yes?" you replied, taking off your gaze from the sky to him.

"I've been thinking a lot to answer a question I asked myself. And after a few days, I've finally found the answer to that question."

You remained quiet, letting him continue speaking.

"I am ashamed to admit that it took me to realize it after that incident, but I cannot bear to see you be with another man."

Silver looked at you with all seriousness.

You blinked. No way. Is he...?

"Y/N, I am deeply in love with you. And I promise to treasure you every day as long as I live, if you'll have me."

You gasped.

You thought there would be no chance, when you heard him that day. But here he is, laying his feelings out in the open.

Tears began to prickle your eyes.

"But Silver... we are friends."

"...Yes, but–"

"But I would very much like to be more than friends."

You laughed, your tears now flowing freely on your cheeks.

Silver stared at you in disbelief before pulling you in for a hug.

"You have no idea how much I've been wanting you to say that," you said between sobs.

Pressing your foreheads together, he began to wipe your tears with his thumb. "I'm sorry, and thank you."

Once again, you let out a shaky laugh before kissing him.

And as your lips met his, you found yourself grateful to whatever divinity watching you above in this world for letting you meet and love the man who was sleeping on the ground that day.

Tag list: @officialdaydreamer00 @cloudcountry @identity-theft-101 @the-clockwork-fiend @twst-beam @oya-oya-okay @savanaclaw1996 (tell me if you wanna be added/removed from the list!)

[pronouncingitwang]

[ID: 8 screenshots of text reading

DOCTOR: What happened? AMY: Twelve years. DOCTOR: You hit me with a cricket bat. AMY: Twelve years. DOCTOR: A cricket bat. AMY: Twelve years and four psychiatrists. DOCTOR: Four? AMY: I kept biting them. DOCTOR: Why? AMY: They said you weren't real.

And this was where Amy Pond usually woke up - unable to make sense of this strange, unsettling dream about a mother she didn't have… about a memory she was sure couldn't be real. In a cold sweat, she reached for the glass of water by her bed, gulping at it. And then, as psychiatrist number three had taught her to do, she counted to ten. She had stopped trying to learn her psychiatrists' names. There was no point when they never lasted. And they never lasted because she kept biting them when they told her he wasn't real. Her raggedy man.

Remember that dog that got run over? I can still see the van driver cradling it and saying the same thing over and over, really desperately hoping that it was all going to be OK. Now here's Amy Pond, standing in the freezing ocean, hold- ing the dead body of her imaginary friend, and shouting at the sea to make him better. Yeah. If only my therapists could see me now.

[Living room] (The nice lady psychiatrist is looking at a painting of the moon and stars.) CHRISTINE: It's a lovely painting, Amelia. And what are all these? AMELIA: Stars. SHARON: Oh, Amelia. CHRISTINE: Tell you what, shall we go outside? [Outside the house] CHRISTINE: What do you see, Amelia? AMELIA: The moon. CHRISTINE: And what else? AMELIA: Just the dark. CHRISTINE: But no stars. If there were stars up there, we'd be able to see them, wouldn't we? Amelia, look at me. You know this is all just a story, don't you? You know there's no such thing as stars.

Amy's eyes were filling with tears but she blinked them away quickly. She knew that eventually she would have to tell him, but she didn't know how. Not without him thinking she was crazy, just like her psychiatrists and her aunt and the school counsellor. And she really didn't want to bite Rory when he was being so nice to her, and …

INTERFACE: Unexpected visitor. Welcome. Please seek assistance. (A Handbot is up ahead.) AMY: Hello? Hey. Oi, wait. (The Handbot turns and scans her.) HANDBOT: You are carrying unregistered bacteria. Please let me help you. AMY: No, I'm not from this world. Your medicine'll kill me. HANDBOT: Statement rejected. Do not be alarmed. This is a kindness.

'That's ironic. So, you just keep them locked up here?' the Doctor said. He sipped his tea. 'How moral and ethical is that?' Jackson set down his tea on one of the few empty spaces on his desk. 'They're here for their own good.' 'I've heard that before,' Amy retorted. 'No, I mean it. They're here for treatment.'

AUGUSTUS: At the age of six and announced that the new head teacher wasn't real because she looked like a cartoon. AMY: Shut up, Dad! RORY: Amy? AUGUSTUS: Amelia? AMY: Sorry, but shut up, please. There's someone missing. Someone important. Someone so, so important. RORY: Amy, what's wrong? AMY: Sorry. Sorry, everyone. But when I was a kid, I had an imaginary friend. TABETHA: Oh no, not this again. AMY: The raggedy Doctor. My raggedy Doctor. But he wasn't imaginary, he was real. TABETHA: The psychiatrists we sent her to.

/end ID]

amy pond + involuntary / coercive treatment

( the eleventh hour / the girl who tore through the universe by nikita gill / dead of winter by james goss / the big bang / the girl who tore through the universe by nikita gill / the girl who waited / apollo 23 by justin richards / the big bang )

[certified-sleep-deprived]

In the club

Part one: The Club

Authors note: sorry this took so long to post. I was going through a slip in grades, a writers block, and just a general unhappiness with some parts of this story. I've rewritten a good portion but I'm still unhappy with the smut, so any tips or comments would be greatful! This is being divided into two parts as I don't know how long the second one will be. If it's anything like this one? It'll be awhile.

Wc: 6500+

Warnings/additional tags: closet sex, cunnilingus, fingering and oral (r receiving), strap-on (r receiving), Agatha is a scheming little shit, Rio fucked both these ladies once, Reader and Agatha are so down bad for eachother, mommy kink, voice kink (?), r has an obsession with Agatha's hands (don't we all), top Agatha, bottom Reader, Reader has a name but it can be overlooked easily :)

Miami is home to many kinds of people. Average citizens, thugs, hookers; and then there's you: a crime boss. You had an iron grip on your assets, even had a good relationship on the side with your girlfriend, Rio. Although, I should say ex-girlfriend now that she had betrayed you and turned you into the police.

Six years in prison wasn't a light sentence by any means, especially when you were thrown into a literal concrete box with no light and no human interaction.

Your sentence was for life, but you only spent six of them thanks to this rookie looking for a mentor in crime, who would eventually turn out to be your friend.

He was the one to coax you out of your forced retirement. You should have been laying low, staying away from your life of crime, you had argued; but he wasn't taking it. There were people who had moved in on your turf, and you needed to take it back. As the younger guy was persistent as he was infuriating, the idea was tempting, so here you were four years later as you continued to rebuild your crime empire from nearly the ground up.

Tonight though, you were sipping a glass of wine from the balcony of your penthouse overlooking the Miami skyline. The sunset was like a Bob Ross painting. Streaks of orange and pink tangled in the clouds in a tango, the sun illuminating through them like stained glass in a chapel.

You never knew how much you missed it when you came out of prison and back into the world. Now, you never took another sunset for granted, as who knew which one would be your lazy?

“Ellie!!”

The out-of-world trance you were in from the skyline was broken by the sound of one nagging apprentice.

Your friend has been insistently bugging you about going out to a nightclub to blow off some tension, maybe hook up with someone as a bonus. There were certain things that required attention, you had argued, and they couldn't wait, as they had a time frame. Did your friend care? Hell no! He practically tuned you out and left you with no other choice but to go with him to the nightclub he had been raving on about.

It was dangerous to go out to just any nightclub in the bustling city of Miami without doing research on its owner. Hell, it's dangerous to go to just any nightclub period, no matter where it was. It could belong to a drug cartel, a narc looking for vulnerable prey, or even worse, her.

Agatha Harkness.

She was your biggest competition in the crime world, and she was always two steps ahead of you. When you had escaped from that concrete box, she was the main onr who had made moves in on your turf.

She was just as aware of you as you were aware of her. It felt like she knew more about you than you knew about yourself sometimes, like she was living in your mind.

At the scene of where your jobs and crimes should have been, is a nicely painted note on a wall or a piece of paper from her that usually says something along the lines of, ‘better luck next time, sweetheart’, with a purple heart attached.

Every. Single. Time.

Truth be told, you unfortunately came to admire her when it came to how she would work. But it also frustrated you to no end. It's as if she somehow knew your intricately prepared jobs beforehand. Almost like she was a psychic or a fortune teller. And the worst part? She would leave no trace of evidence it was her behind, except for the hand-painted notes she left for you after.

It irks you more the fact that nobody has seen her face. Ever. She was more incognito than a drop in the ocean. This information also meant that she likely disguises herself as an everyday Sue. And there were many of those around Miami. So you had no idea what she looked like, and your friend could be dragging you directly into her web tonight.

Only one way to find out, you suppose.

So, here you were now, putting on a flowing, black dress that went ankle-length, and held a sewn-in pocket on the off-white inside. The dress had a slit in the front that stretched from the bottom to just above your knees, making it easier to not trip from limited leg movement. It was also strapless to prevent irritation from rubbing against your shoulders all night.

You had debated not putting on a wig, because who would recognize you? But then it dawned on you that it maybe wasn't best to stand out with turquoise dyed hair, especially if there was a certain rival there to spot you. So, it was a natural-colored wig for you tonight.

You placed a pocket knife in the cushioned slip inside your dress for safety measures. You never know who or what you'll encounter in a crowded nightclub. Especially in a city like Miami.

Upon standing in front of the mirror in your bedroom, you realized that, wow, you'd certainly bat a few eyes, to say the least. The dress hugged your curves in all the right places like it was suffocated saran wrap. And between the makeup and your hair? Bellissimo! Anyone who would see you wouldn't be able to take their eyes off of you, and you didn't know if that was going to be a good or bad thing.

The voice of your friend from the other side of your door breaks you out of your self-admiriful state,

“Hey, uccella canterina! If you spend any longer in there the club will go out of business!”

His exaggeration elicited a chuckle from you,

“I'm coming, I'm coming! Go start your car!”, you call out to him.

The faint sound of the front door closing indicates he's gone, and so you make sure you have everything before giving yourself another look over in the mirror. Please don't attract the wrong kind of attention, you think before exiting your room and heading for the front door.

The cool air nips and flows across your exposed skin as you step out of the doors to the outside. They close behind you with a click and the sound of a car revving its engine breaks the near silence of the night. Your friend is waiting in front of his sports car, and once he spots you, he sends a whistle your way.

“Damn, girl! You'll have ladies all over you tonight with that outfit!”

His words are genuine and they hold no underlying intentions. You get into the car still putting on your coat before replying to his statement,

“You really know how to make a girl feel special. I could say the same for you, dude! You're dashing, and I think you'll definitely have guys and gals all over your dick tonight.”

He shakes his head with amusement before pulling out of the driveway and looking behind him before taking off in the streets.

“You're too much, sometimes, girlie.”

The wind battles your put-together hair as your friend sped through the streets to the nightclub. Nighttime air did wonders for calming your racing mind.

There was something about the crisp ocean air that brought a calm mood upon you. Maybe it was the smell of saltwater, or maybe it was the cooler temperature of the air at night. Whatever it was, it was able to calm you, unlike the stuffy, humid air of the daytime. The air had such a powerful calming effect it was lulling you to sleep, almost like magic.

You hadn't even noticed that the car had arrived at its destination until your friend gently shook you awake by the shoulder,

“Hey, we're here. Come on!”

His voice betrays the excitement and anticipation that courses through his body, but he still tried to be gentle with waking you.

Your eyes took at least a minute to adjust to the bright lighting of the outside of the nightclub you were at. To say it was blinding was an understatement. It was like a flashlight was being shone in your eyes, and it burned for a moment until your eyes fully adjusted from your power nap. Only then, did you realize the nightclub your friend took you to.

It was E11even. The most exclusive club in Miami.

Your breath was taken away by the beauty of it. In your entire time of clubbing and doing jobs, you had never made a stop at E11even before. You've heard stories, but never ventured in yourself.

And the fact you haven't been here before worried you.

Who knew what kind of people lurked here? It was downtown Miami, after all.

Your friend was next to your door and seemed to notice the worry etched in your brow. His hand finds its way to your shoulder in a soft squeeze of reassurance.

“Hey, don't worry. I've been here before, and I can say nobody will recognize you. You blend in like a basic bitch any- ow! What was that for?”

You punch his arm at the playful jest with a shit-eating grin on your face.

“It felt necessary.”

He huffs and shakes his head before opening your door for you to get out.

“I don't want any wrinkles in this suit, stronza. You're lucky you're my best friend.”

You step out of the car and he closes the door behind you before locking it with the button on his keys.

It's only about ten minutes you both are waiting on the line for the door when you get to the entrance. Expecting to pay, you pull out your phone, but your friend says his name to the bouncer before he guides you in with a hand on your back. Your head swivels back to the bouncer fading from your view and then back to your friend with confusion. He laughs when he notices your perplexed state and says,

“I'm on the V.I.P. list.”

A smile paints its way on your lips before responding in a mocking tone,

“Look at you, climbing up the rungs of the ladder. Maybe you aren't the amateur I met three years ago.”

His unamused side-eye tells you he's unimpressed, but he shakes his head before leading you to the bar and sitting down.

The dance floor to your right was loud and bright; the exact opposite of the bar you were sitting down at. Lights over your heads were so dim you could barely notice them. Maybe it was a contrast done on purpose, or maybe it was a coincidence. You'd never know, but it was a nice feeling to not be under all the hot and bright lights of the main floor.

The bartender comes over to order your drinks. Your friend orders a couple of shots of tequila and you order a shot of vodka. His gaze turns back to you as the bar keep pours your shots.

“Hey, I've come a long way since then. I haven't been an amateur since I convinced you to shadow me-

“More like you cajoled me, but same thing I guess.”

He kicks your leg under the lip of the bar with a smug smirk.

“Payback, huh? You always were petty”, you say as the shots come back to you.

Your friend watches from beside you as you gulp the shot in one swallow with high regard. He huffs with amusement before turning to his two shots of tequila.

“You still know how to keep the party going.”

“That's because I don't crash from the first sips of alcohol, like you”, you jest with a shoulder bump.

“I may have been in prison for a while, but it's been a long time since then. I still know how to live it up.”

He knew you were right, declared by his lack of words after, but he continued to down the last shot of his drink before placing the shot glass back on the counter. Your thoughts wander back to your paranoia for a moment, but thankfully you're pulled back when a guy approaches your friend and looks him up and down with a hungry gaze.

The guy is clearly inebriated as he flirts with your friend.

“Hey, the name's Ruben. But you can call me anything you like.”

A chuckle escapes your lips at the flustered state of the companion beside you. His cheeks were dusted a light red as Ruben holds out a hand to him to take.

“I think that's your cue, amico”, your voice takes on a teasing tone as the guy, Ruben, practically drags him to the dance floor. Both stumble and eventually blend in with the crowd so much you can't spot them anymore.

The minutes seemed to drag on with shot after shot of vodka as the effects started to settle in.

Only when an older woman sat herself next to you, were you temporarily broken from your inebriated trance. She was the most ethereal thing you've seen. Long, wavy, chestnut locks that flowed around her. High cheekbones that just screamed confidence and power. A deep purple tailored suit jacket hugged her shoulders tightly with matching slacks and a white dress shirt. And, to top it off, her eyes were a captivating cerulean, and they were pulling you in like quicksand.

She caught your lingering gaze and gave you a hungry look up and down with a smirk. Her eyes dragged from top to bottom before they finally settled on your own eyes. Time seemed to stop as this happens, everything around you feeling like it was slowing down. It's not often, if at all, a stranger can get you this flustered by a look alone, and it made you feel small… vulnerable.

“What's a pretty girl like you doing here? First time clubbing?”

Her voice is raspy, but smooth like butter. And, fuck, did it do things to you.

A fire ignites itself in your gut and it's heat spreads throughout your body, making the room suddenly feel hot. You shift in your seat slightly to try and center yourself and get a grip. A random woman's (who you literally just met) voice shouldn't be making you feel like this. It's a stark contrast to your usual bravado, and it scared you.

You couldn't tell if it was just her, or the vodka, or even both, but whatever it was, it was doing things to you.

The clearing of her throat brought you back to the present and out of your intense staring competition with the bar counter. It reminded you that she had asked you something.

“Just looking to alleviate some stress, I guess. As for first time…? It isn't my first time clubbing, but it is my first time here.”

Your voice shakes slightly as you respond to her earlier question. What the fuck was wrong with you? You were never this nervous or jittery when you drank. Did this woman have you under a spell or something? This isn't like the fierce, cold crime boss you are.

A sly-smile dances across her lips as she takes in your reaction, like she's cornered her prey. She leans an elbow on the bar counter and places her hand on her palm and looks at you with an unreadable expression. But it's almost like she's analyzing you, picking apart every tissue, every cell in your body and studying them. She brings her shot glass of tequila to her lips and takes a big gulp. As the burning liquid slides down her throat, it bobs and you didn't think she could get any more captivating.

Her eyes snap back up to yours in a heated gaze, pupils dilated and full of hunger and want. It sent shockwaves of heat directly to your core, and your breath was stolen away until she spoke again,

“Well, that makes sense. I haven't seen you here before.”

And your voice cuts through before you could think,

“You a regular?”

She seemed to contemplate her answer for a second.

“I suppose you could say that, sweetheart.”

You turned your head away from her to hide your burning cheeks, not wanting to show how open you felt at that moment. And the way she said the word sweetheart felt oddly familiar, and it sent chills down your spine. But before you could question it further, her hand comes up to the side of your jaw and tilts your face to turn back towards her. Her hands. God, they were so rough yet tender at the same time.

Your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest when she looked you in the eyes again. The beauty of her eyes were like a siren call, wanting to pull you into the depths of their ocean.

Her eyes flicker down to your lips as her face inched closer. Slowly, but surely, you found yourself leaning in as well, as you knew this woman had you in her web, and there was no escape from it. At this moment, it didn't matter enough who she was or even could be.

Just as her breath ghosts over your lips, she pulls away and you just about whine until she speaks in that honey-smooth voice of hers,

“Let's take this somewhere more secluded, shall we?”

She offers a hand out to you, and you took it almost immediately, desperate for any physical contact with her. It wasn't just the vodka talking at this point, it was her. She had you wrapped around her finger like a thread, and she fucking knew it too. You would soon be wrapped around her fingers quite literally.

The way her fingers interlaced with yours as she gently guided you to wherever she was going felt so intimate, making you feel so fluttery inside. You'd gladly follow this mystery woman to the ends of the earth if it meant you could have her.

She eventually brings the both of you to a small storage closet in a more secluded area. The lighting was dim, and it wasn't spacious, but it would have to do.

As she turned to face you, you brought your free hand, the one not intertwined with hers, up to her face and your eyes scrape over every line, every contour of her face as if you were trying to burn it into your memory.

“Has anybody told you that you are absolutely bewitching?”

You are now the one to catch her off guard, her resolve nearly crumbles at the sound of your voice and your words. But, she composes herself and shoots back another witty remark,

“I could say the same for you, sweetheart. You are enthralling, like an enchantress.”

Her free hand comes up to cradle the back of your head before she closes the distance and finally, finally, presses her lips to yours in a burning kiss.

It was tender and soft at first, but soon dissolved into a desperate need and hunger for one another. Your hand gripped hers tighter as she backed you up into a table, your ass pressing into the refined wood. The kiss deepened as she lifted you by your thighs onto the table, tongues dancing together in a heated tango, and your bodies bumped and rocked against one another.

You wanted to commit the taste of her to memory as best as you could. Because if this was just a fleeting one-night stand, then you'll be damned if you don't make the most of it.

The buzz of your phone almost breaks you from your heated interaction, but as you go to reach for it, the woman grabs your wrist in a firm grip.

“Live in the moment honey”, she let's go of your hands and trails it slowly up your thigh, teasingly.

“I can make you feel so good”, her voice is the only other sound in the closet besides your combined breathing.

“Do you want that? You want me to make you feel good?” You nod your head frantically, so desperately. It was embarrassing, so pathetic, but you could care less at this moment.

She has you under her control and willing to obey every command she gives you.

“Take off your jacket. I want to see that sexy dress of yours being hidden from me.”

Her voice is dominant and commanding action, washing over you like a spell. And like so, you immediately start shedding the outer layer that is your coat. It was almost pathetic at how fast you got it off and on the floor of the closet. A chuckle escaped her lips, but then her breath hitched as the sight of you in your form-hugging dress greets her.

Her cerulean eyes danced over your body that was fitted by the dress. It accentuated all your curves and dips so well, and it made the hunger for you by this woman skyrocket. If it wasn't clear she was pulled to you before, then it should be now.

She takes notice of how you slightly spread your legs, as if almost on instinct, and her hands are immediately on your thighs, spreading them further for her to get leverage.

As she speaks, her hot breath fans over your face,

“You really are a gem, sweetheart. I might just have to keep you all to myself, don't I? But then again, you'd probably like that.”

She runs her hands up and down your thighs under your dress before using them as leverage to pull you flush to her. The table scoots from the wall a bit at the sudden movement. As you come in contact with her crotch, you feel the outline of a strap under her slacks, and by the judge of it, it's big.

The stimulation against you clit leaves a hitch in your breath, and she smiles through peppering kisses on your jaw.

“Someone seems excited. I'll have to work you open first, baby”, she drawls, “bet you haven't had a good fuck in awhile by anyone, haven't you?”

You don't want to admit it, but it's been ages since you've felt this way, been in this position.

It's been too long.

Her lips graze your earlobe, gently nipping at it before moving slowly down your jawline, and eventually the junction of your neck. The feeling of her tongue and teeth marking up your neck was a sensation you were once positive you wouldn't feel again, but here you were, under this woman and she was giving it to you.

Embarrassment flooded through your veins at the prospect of admitting how long you've been denied an orgasm, but it was inevitable. So as you nod your head, she coos in an almost-teasing way,

“Poor thing. Seems like mommy will have to change that then, yeah?”

Holy fuck.

That word.

Mommy.

You think your soul just left your body and ascended at the way she called herself ‘mommy'. Normally you wouldn't fold like this for anyone. Anyone. But with her? It just felt so right. The tight resolve you always had crumbled away in an instant for her and you only met her not even ten minutes ago. She has you under her spell, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

You feel her lips graze a certain spot on your neck before biting down into it and sucking harshly. A gasp leaves your throat at the sudden sensation, but instead of it hurting like it should, it actually felt really good.

Fuck, you thought. Did you have a pain kink now?

The way her lips nipped and sucked at your neck felt heavenly, it was like she was staking a claim over you. Your friend would have questions come tomorrow, but you could care less. All you cared about in this moment was this divine woman hovering over you right now.

Her lips roughly pull away from your neck with a ‘pop’, a trail of saliva connecting her lips to a newly forming bruise on your neck. A satisfied smirk lit up her face, but something told you she was far from over.

Her fingers trailing on the inside of your thighs and inching closer to your core is what brings you back to earth. With this close-up, you might have a new thing to obsess over on her: her hands. They appear like they have aged like fine wine, with how taut the skin around her veins were, and the sheer power that exuded from them.

Her long, elegant fingers dance and stroke along your inner thighs so light it felt like she was almost tickling you. It was intentionally teasing, and it was driving you up the wall (almost literally!).

The teasing hand strokes along your thigh for a moment longer before dipping in the waistband of your underwear and pulling them straight down your legs. And you swear a moan escaped her throat as she caught just how wet you were through the widened slit in your dress.

“Fuck, baby you're dripping. This all for me? For mommy?”

If it was possible, her words made you even wetter. Possibly you also had a newfound voice kink for this captivating woman, amongst other things you'd discover tonight.

She gets on her knees in front of your core and her left hand was stroking along the inside of your folds, gathering your wetness as a lube for her fingers. Her hand stilled for a moment before she pushed two of those amazing fingers in your dripping hole, and the sudden action made you throw your head back with the most obscene sound you've made in your life. The pace was slow at first, but quickly built a crescendo as her lips attached onto your clit and began to suck on it.

It was intense the way she fucked and twisted her fingers into you, and every bump and ridge of them hit the right spots. Her lips were still wrapped around your pearl and continued their sucking motion while her tongue mapped something out, a word maybe. Her name? There was no way you could tell.

“You taste so good, sweetheart. Absolutely divine”, she all but groans out. The vibration against your bundle of nerves seems to stimulate it more, and it sends shockwaves throughout your core. A raging inferno pulsed through you. An unstoppable inferno, at that.

“Your pussy is so delectable. It tastes like it was made for me, and it's all mine.”

She soon added a third finger without you noticing, and the initial stretch burned so good.

“Oh! Oh, shit. Oh my god!”

Your breaths are coming out in ragged gasps as her fingers curl and uncurl into that one spongey spot inside of you, and she drags another sinful moan from your throat. She revels in every millisecond of it with a dark look.

Liquid fire felt like it was coursing through your body with every curl of her fingers, and every suck of her lips on your clit. It felt absolutely divine. Her lips and fingers combined were the eighth wonder of the world. The world you stood on and shared with her.

Her fingers played you like a violin. So intricate, but still holding great power behind them. Still so quick, anticipating the next second ahead. She was anticipating the next second of your approaching release like reading ahead in her sheet music. You were her sheet music.

Your release approaches quickly, and as you're about to tip over the edge, she rises up from her spot in between your legs and crashes her lips on yours, still fucking you in a harshly fast rhythm with her fingers.

“I'm so close. Please, let me cum!”

Your words seem to have a deep effect on her as she looks at you through hooded eyes.

“Go on. Cum for me, baby. I want to see and hear you as I bring you to the edge.”

Those words are what broke the camel's back, and it feels like a tsunami crashing over you with how strong your release was. Your entire body jerks and arches into hers as you grasp onto her shoulders, trying to steady yourself through what may be the most powerful orgasm you've had yet.

The aggressive waves of your high soon became shallow pushes against the shore as you came back to your senses. A soft brush of her fingers tucking your hair behind your ear was what eventually brought you back down from Mars.

Your new obsession stood over you like a statue, pupils dilated and a deep fire in her eyes as she raked over your disheveled state with pride. She gently withdrew her fingers from your cunt with an unholy sound, and a small whine from your throat.

“God, you're so beautiful, and you taste so good”, she moans as she sucks the residue of your orgasm off of her fingers, and looks you in the eyes as she does so. The sight of her licking and sucking your essence of her fingers could have made you cum again from how hot she looked doing it.

“I can't wait to see how well you fit around my cock, pretty girl.”

One of her strong hands comes up to caress the side of your face, her thumb stroking your cheek in a loving way almost, before pulling you upfor a quick, messy kiss. Her other hand trails down to her slacks and undoes the clip and zipper binding them together. She pulls away from the kiss and uses her other hand to push the slacks down her thighs and to pool at her ankles.

Around her hips and thighs is a buckled harness, and in the center of it was a large, purple dildo. It was definitely larger than any strap you've taken previously, and the thought of it stretching you out further than her fingers had made your mouth water like a starved woman. She caught you staring the strap down and with a knowing look, she simply tilted your chin up so the only thing you could see was her blazing, lustful eyes. Most of the cerulean of her irises was blown out by her pupils, and it looked like she was a feral animal in heat, but still holding some semblance of control. There was no way this was just a quick fuck in a closet, or at least you hoped.

“You're a big girl. You can take it, can't you?”

Her words were more on the teasing side, but, nonetheless, it was still a genuine question. All you could respond with is a nod, as words weren't coming to you at the moment. But this woman wasn't having it as she gripped your chin between her pointer finger and thumb as she made sure you weren't able to look away.

“I want words, sweetheart. You can take mommy's cock, can't you?”

Fuck, did her voice do things to you. You naturally had to obey her, like it was your job. Who knows what would happen if you didn't? Her alluring voice seemed to have a hypnotizing effect on you, pulling you further into the dark depths of her ocean.

“Yes, mommy.”

Your voice was still shaky from the remnants of your previous orgasm, but it still conveyed the point to her as she lined up the tip of her strap with the entrance of your cunt. Her eyes seem to glaze over with an unfamiliar look, like something has stirred inside of her. But it is only for a moment, because as soon as it appears, it disappears just as quick. She starts to glide in, and as she does, she groans in pleasure almost as if she could actually feel you clenching around her.

Of course, she can actually feel you, but where's the fun in telling the person, who is your rival, just exactly who you are? Why would she give herself away when she knows you'll eventually put two and two together. By the time you will, she thinks, it will be too late. The thought brings a smile to Agatha's face at the thought of the grand reveal to you. Not only is she your rival, who you've been fuming over (but also admiring), but she is also a witch. It takes everything in her to not let it show on her face, trying to gain some self-control over her thoughts. Once her plan unfolds, you'd be at her mercy and she would have finally won.

That self control is thrown out the window when she feels your walls flutter around her strap, and it draws a strangled groan from her lips.

The pace she sets is far from gentle, and it's partly because she felt you had enough preparation from her fingers and her tongue. So, why the need to be gentle? It wasn't necessary in her eyes. After all, it was your fault that she lost her control. But it was also partly for the fact she lost control in the first place.

Her hands fly to your still clothed breasts and gives them a firm squeeze as her hips plow into you relentlessly. The jarring motion of her rough thrusting keeps making the table you're plopped on hit the wall, like a metronome gradually increasing its tempo. As she starts feeling you slide backwards on the cool wood, her hands move from your tits down to your ass, and she grabs onto your cheeks and yanks you forward, holding onto you.

The force of her thrusts start to increase as she chases her high. It's far, but so near at the same time. In this moment, she needed you like the air she breathed. All your curves calling out to her like a prize to be taken, the platinum trophy for her hard work.

When she looks down at you, Agatha feels something inside her stir slightly.

Originally, her whole plan was to lure you into her nightclub and fuck your brains out, then blackmail you with the threat of going back to prison. But, looking into your fucked-out face, she begins to second-guess her motives.

Sure, you encroached on her hard earned territory, tried fumbling with her assets, and overall you were a massive thorn in her side, but she found a weird attraction to you. Sure, it was her who had stolen your territory and you were rightfully warning it back, but still. She wanted to cut you open and watch you bleed, like any rival would, but she couldn't find it right to do so.

What was wrong with her? Is she really feeling something for you, her rival? The thought is laughable. No way would she let one time fucking you into submission change her heart. She is still going to go through with her plan, no matter how much her gut is screaming at her not to.

Good thing she had Wanda, her second-in-command to get your friend excited to drag you along here, because now you were in her sticky snare with no means of escape.

One of her hands snakes from your ass, around your waist, and slips between your folds to find your clit. The slight graze of her fingers on your clit, while she continues pounding into you with bruising force, is enough to make your hips buck into hers.

You were still sensitive from the orgasm she pulled from you with her tongue and fingers just before, so your next was quickly approaching on the horizon. Agatha originally thought of torturing you, and dragging out your orgasm, but she decided against it as she was desperate for release herself. Also, she was tired from managing a nightclub while devising a plan against you, so she decided to go easy on you tonight.

The swipes of her thumb become faster and more rough as it presses harder into your bundle of nerves, which strangles a pornographic moan out from your lips. The sound did wonders to her own impending orgasm, and a low groan came from her as she felt her peak near closer. Her powerful thrusts were so jarring in their force that you were convinced you'd have bruises, alongside the ones on your neck.

Agatha found herself enamored with you, unable to get enough. Her glass would seem to never be full when it comes to you. She just wants more and more, and more; she was so greedy to drink in every last drop of you until there was nothing left.

The signs of her impending orgasm were clear as day when her thrusts started becoming sloppy and uneven; there was no set tempo and obscene sounds were coming out from both of your mouths. And they blended together so much so you couldn't tell who's moan came from who's mouth, and vice-versa. it was like an ideal choir; sounding like one voice.

Your voice was a pleading chant as you begged this goddess of a woman to give you what you so desperately craved.

“Oh- fuck! Mommy! Mommy, please, I need- I need to cum!”

‘Mommy’ came off your tongue like a sin never to be uttered. But if it was a sin, why did it felt so good? Because, with this woman, you found you'd commit any sin in the world for her.

Lips collided, tongues tangled, and hands flew anywhere they could find purchase to gain a sense of ground. They flew to hair, faces, and elsewhere they touched. It was a comboluded and tangled mess of limbs.

The messy drive of her hips falters for a second, before they resume their sloppy movement until stilling completely a moment later. A drawn out, pleasure-filled groan leaves her lips as her orgasm completely overtakes her entire body.

Agatha has never cum this hard or fast for any woman in her life, not even Rio, but you seem to be the outlier in this scenario. You're the unknown that she can't tell if she hates or is now genuinely interested in. Her plan was to blackmail you into giving all your assets to her, and leave you bleeding, but here she is second-guessing herself yet again. The thought of doing that to you isn't sitting right with her the longer it marinates in her thoughts.

Fuck. She needs to get a grip.

Her hair drapes like a curtain over her face, concealing it from all sides except facing your own face. Speaking of your face, yours was totally and utterly wrecked. Your cheeks and neck held a deep, crimson flush that spread like a wildfire. It was so hot it even felt like a wildfire.

Agatha's cerulean eyes travel and map your entire face, as if she was committing it to memory. There was a hint of desire still lingering in her blown out pupils, but there was a hint of something else; it was something you couldn't put your finger on.

The last thing you felt before you slipped into unconsciousness was a purple haze surrounding your mind like a thick cocoon.

[peachhcs]

requesting some will samy angst where maybe one of them picks a fight on the phone or on face time while they’re doing long distance and then by the end of the call they realize that they were only doing that because they missed the other?

UGH yes in the end they'd be so 🥺 when they realize they really just miss one another. angst to fluff my fav

au masterlist

"you barely texted me all day," samy immediately said when she finally answered her boyfriend's call at almost 10pm.

"i'm sorry..things were crazy today. i got caught up," will mumbled but for some reason his apology wasn't sitting right in samy's head.

"you could've at least told me you were gonna be busy," she continued with the semi-angry tone. the blonde frowned to himself, struggling to make up for hardly answering her all day.

"i should've. 'm sorry," will really did have a long day. there was media every hour that they weren't practicing and press people wanted to kow..he hardly had time to even sit down and think before someone new came in wanting and interview and/or photos for their blogs.

it was the worser side of the job the blonde didn't really enjoy. he was there to play hockey, not sit in front of ten different cameras answering nonstop questions that were way too personal for his liking.

"what's even been up with you lately? you've felt so..i dunno..distant.." samy wasn't afraid to call it what it was anymore. after things escalated between them last summer, she knew better than to let things slide.

however, will did not take it that way, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"i get you're busy, i am too, but it feels like i've barely heard from you all week. we hardly text. we hardly talk," samy's voice faded like she hesitated saying the last part.

the hockey player's expression hardened even though she couldn't see it, "oh so now you're trying to accuse me of something?"

"no, i was never accusing you of something," the younger hughes immediately shot back.

"then what are you trying to say?"

"what are you trying to say? is there something i should be accusing you of?" now both of their tones turned sour. after a long four months of will proving to samy that he deserved her full trust, she put it all into him. she trusted him completely, but right now it wasn't really feeling that way.

"what the fuck? no? what the fuck would i even be doing that would put me in that position?" now will was just mad because it mostly hurt him how fast samy was to assume that he would turn around and hurt her like that again.

"i don't know, you tell me, will. you're the one that hasn't even been answering my texts," the girl shot back again.

"so you're just gonna assume that i did something then? not that i could just be super busy and i've had a really long day talking to a million different people with a camera in my face and i just couldn't have the time to text you?"

a deafening silence fell between them. will heard a sigh escape samy's lips and he quickly realized how harsh what he just said sounded. the guilt of being rude quickly washed over the hockey player. he knew samy's trust really could break at any moment with him and none of what he just said helped any of that.

"okay, sorry. i..i don't know why i said that. you're right. you're busy," when samy spoke again her voice was small and wavering like she was going to cry.

will instantly felt bad, "wait, fuck, no, no. i'm sorry. i shouldn't have snapped like that. i shouldn't have..i'm sorry."

god, he was so stupid sometimes.

"i'm sorry. i have been busy, but i should have texted you and told you. i'm sorry i didn't. it's just been a crazy long day and i haven't like had a second to breathe with every reporter wanted to shove a camera and mic in my face. i think i answered like a hundred questions about myself and personal life today," will admitted in a softer tone when samy didn't respond right away.

"i didn't mean to snap either. i'm sorry. i guess we both had long days. i just..i really like talking to you and i got worried when i barely heard from you all day," samy nervously thumbed her little braid.

"i really like talking to you too. talking to you is the highlight of my day and i do always look forward to it. i didn't mean to worry you. i'm sorry again. if it's any consolation, i did talk about you quite a lot though," when he heard the girl giggle, he knew it was okay again.

"really?"

"god, they love asking about you, but i love talking about you so it works out. it was just little things about our relationship. i bragged about you when i could," will could picture samy blushing hearing him say that and he was right. her cheeks were bright red.

"i'm flattered. sounds intense," she hummed.

"it was, but luckily we're done with it for now. i promise that i will try to text you more and especially let you know when i'll be more busy. god, i really miss you," the hockey player admitted. there were so many days he wished samy was a half an hour drive away still so he could just lay in her arms when his day was hard.

today especially he missed her like crazy. it was probably why he seemed to talk about her in almost every interview even when he wasn't asked first because she was the only thing on his mind.

"i really miss you, too. feels like it's been forever since i saw you," the brunette sighed.

"i know. i have no idea when i'm free again," probably not until summer will guessed and that was still so long from now.

"yeah, me neither." samy and hannah were going abroad for spring break—a trip they'd been planning since literally last year after hannah saying she really wanted to go to italy, so samy didn't know when the next time she could fly to the west coast would be.

"maybe i can escape to italty with you and hannah," will joked a little.

"you should. the almafi coast is calling our name."

one day will would get there with samy and maybe even then they'd be more than just boyfriend and girlfriend. something more like husband and wife sounded right.

"i love you. i miss you. i'm sorry again," will finally said with a small smile.

"i love you a lot. i'm glad we talked. it was real good hearing from you," samy smiled too.

"i promise i'll text. if i don't just like spam me or something," the girl giggled at his words.

"i love, love, love you," they exchanged their goofy, loving goodbye and the little fight they had was far from their minds.