#i'm talking about those kind that are laced up in the front that can be tied but i can imagine that he'd also wear normal pants

[mad-hunts]

my totally important (sarcasm LOL, though it's still kind of important in my mind) tidbit of information for y'all today regarding barton is that he drives a motorcycle and YES. he does wear a very ✨️ fabulous ✨️ leather jacket and possibly pants (when he's not wearing just regular ones) while he's doing it

[kanmom51]

Jikook and their ramen talk

Are you sure? Episode 4

We finally got to it. The poolside ramen talk.

Talk about Jikook and their underlying innuendos.

Where do we start?

With the Ramen?

With the shower talk?

With PPEURIRI?

Let's start with this first, I guess.

Something that by now we should be all very well aware of.

And it's not like it's not a running joke with Jikook already, right?

You know, just listening to the conversation, reading the translation, it can most definitley go under the radar as an innocent convo about deciding if to eat some ramen or not after their lovely playful pool time fun time.

But nope.

It most certainly ain't just that.

All you need is to:

a. Look at their faces and body language. This was not just about food. Well, not FOOD food.

b. The little additives that somehow go untranslated. The fact that each one of them finds the way to weave it into their conversation at the most interesting times of said convo. I will get to it, believe me I will.

So, basically they got out of the pool and JM was hungry.

I'm going to go with hungry and HUNGRY. And I'm not going to be swayed!!!

Sorry, not sorry. No conversation about being hungry and wanting to eat carbs is that funny.

But, a conversation about ramen laced with plenty of sexual inuendo most definitely is!!!

And that is what was going on there.

Talking about ramen and being hungry and being able to eat it all, all while at the same time there is a whole underlined conversation going on, with lots of eye contact and giggles and hints as loud as can be.

Like this here:

🐥what? you don't have to eat. i can eat it all

🐰ppeuriri~

Both giggling away.

I think a little reminder is necessary here as to what ppeuriri is all about, right?

Not really, but I'll give it anyway.

Ppeuriri = JM's 3D...

Body to body to body to body to body You and me, baby, you know that we got it So don't go gettin' me started 'Cause you know I get hot-hearted Baby, oh, baby, oh, baby, you makin' me crazy Rain, rain, rain, you can't fake it You give me brand-new emotion You got me drinkin' that potion I just wanna see you like that See you like that, uh-uh So if you're ready (so if you're ready) And if you'll let me (and if you'll let me) I wanna see it in motion, in 3D (hey, show me, girl, now, uh-uh) You won't regret me (you won't regret me) Champagne confetti (champagne confetti, hey) I wanna see it in motion, in 3D (come on, come on, come on)

Like I said, no way those two had entirely pure intentions while having that whole ramen conversation.

That was JK bringing up ppeuriri, both going all giggly. But that wasn't the end of that, now was it?

If, for some reason you would think that it was just nothing, an instinctual slip of the tongue, out of no where, with no meaning behind it...

There goes JM and does it again.

🐰We might feel differently after a shower.

🐰This might be because we just swam.

🐥ppeuriri~

This time no giggles, just a smile and then a sultry expression walking towards JK.

Cut.

Talk about showering with them off camera.

And lots of shady stuff going on to make us think that maybe, just maybe, those two kind of showered together.

Idk, am I being clear enough?

So, let's talk about that shower for a second.

We see JK going into the bathroom, JM nowhere to be seen.

Obviously he's not showering upstairs with Tae asleep there and both of their suitcases spread out open in front of the downstairs bathroom.

Next we see JM outside of the bathroom brushing his hair dressed after the shower and JK is in the bathroom partially dressed after that shower.

JM walking in behind JK, and yes, it looks like he's lifting his arms to fix his hair, but that cut there again.... I am choosing to believe that he also went in for a hug there. Hill meet Kanmom.

Oh, and hunger issue solved at this point.

Ppeuriri.

All jokes aside (or perhaps not so much a joke...), I just want to remind you one more time that 3D was released on 29 September 2023, all while this is being filmed 26 September 2023!!

[russellsppttemplates]

Hiii, would be comfortable with writing something about the reader not having a good relationship with her parents but loves her in laws and they are basically like her parents, thank you

Note: I have this plotline for Pierre, there are other pieces you can read as well about this too if you haven't read yet and want to read more 🤍

Cw: reader has a bad relationship with her family/has cut ties with her family

"Have you decided what you want to have in the tables?", Pascale asked as she brewed some tea for the two of you, watching Jean and Pierre working on the grill outside.

"Not really, we've seen a few arrangements, and we know what we don't like - especially those really big things where you kind of can't see the person in front of you", you scrunched up your face and she giggled, "it's not the priority on our list, but we're going through all of it in due time", you said, "It has been hard not having anyone else to discuss it with - Pierre only cares so much about how it all looks", you shrugged before composing yourself, "don't get me wrong, he's been very involved, he's been to all of the meetings with the wedding planner and the only thing he isn't involved in is the dress try-on for obvious reasons".

"No need to be so flustered, dear", your soon to be mother in-law soothed your worries quickly, "it's nice to know he's been helping, I knew he would after he asked me a couple of questions", she winked, "you never have to worry about asking for help or opinions - I'd love to to and pick the dress with you if you'd like me to be there", she offered, not wanting to step on any toes.

"I'm glad you're in my life", you spoke up, wiping the stray tear that fell on your cheek. All of the day to day jokes about mothers in-law you grew up hearing and laughing about were surely not written about the lady in you had in front of you.

"Chérie, we're the lucky ones to have you in our lives - there's no one else I'd love to be with Pierre", Pascale smiled, hugging you and rubbing your back gently.

.

"I like this one," Anna said, looking at the dress you were wearing. The look on your face however didn't match her excitment, "It's not it, is it?", Alexandra offered as you twirled around, not like the naked back detail.

You shook your head and walked back to the dressing room, shoulders slumping at yet another attempt to try on your dress. Was your body the problem? Did you have a funny taste in wedding fashion?

On your way to the curtained area, you tripped on the dress, quickly balancing yourself before actually falling over, checking if you had done any damage to the dress, "just because it doesn't look right on you it doesn't mean you should rip it, Y/N", you muttered to yourself.

"Chérie", Pascale called, "can I talk to you for a bit?", she asked before you nodded, letting her grab your hand, "It's ok, beautiful girl, there are lots of dresses. We will find the one you like the most and that is the one for you", she said rubbing your hand in a comforting manner.

You nodded and looked up, keeping the tears at bay, "thank you", you sighed, squeezing her hand.

The last dress was not one you would usually go for even though you still picked it from the hangers, finding the ties and undoing then enough so you could try it on. You slid the dress on carefully and pulled the ties as tight as you could, pushing your boobs a little so they would fall into the moulded cups. As you looked in the mirror, you felt beautiful in it. The bodice fit perfectly, hugging your waist beautifully before fanning out on your hips, and the train wasn't too long, just the right amount to elongate your presence. It felt soft against your skin, and once the lacing on the back was properly done up, it would feel secure and delicate.

Giggling softly, you walked out to meet the group again.

"I think she found it", your soon to be sister in-law Charlotte smiled she saw your radiant smile, "I just need help with the back", you said, turning around so Pascale could help you as she immediately got up and delicately threaded up the laces on he back.

"It's beautiful, Y/N, you look so beautiful", Pascale whispered, "It's like it was made for you," Alexandra clapped her hands excitedly, "This the one", your murmured, twirling around happily in front of the mirror.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[tkaulitzlvr]

OUT OF LOVE - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: once tom realises how much your relationship has lost the love within it because of the distance he has put between you both, it’s his job to make it up to you.

content: angst to smut.

a/n: my first post!! i hope you all enjoy!

lately, tom and i's relationship has hit a bump in the road. each conversation lit an already short fuse within the both of us, the smallest of words capable of creating an unnecessary yet very real dispute that would leave us silent for hours, and in the worst of cases not talking for days. but it wasn't just the things we said, it was whatever we didn't say, too. physical touch was usually a huge part of our relationship, but now, i couldn't remember the last time that i had properly kissed him. it had gotten to the point where we slept on different sides of the bed, refusing to lay in eachother's embrace as we usually would.

as each day dragged on, feeling like tom and i were moving further away from eachother, i failed to even remember how we ended up this way in the first place. we had a perfect relationship, filled with love and trust, those the foundation of what made us, us. everyone knew that we loved eachother, we were the 'it couple'. whilst we had small disputes just as every couple did, it had never reached this point - yet it showed no sign of stopping.

which is why it brought me no surprise that tom had already become irritated from my single question, asking him where he'd been after returning home late yet again, this becoming a habitual occurrence since the beginning of whatever our distance could be called.

"look, i was just out, okay? what is this a fucking interrogation?" tom fires out, frustration laced in his tone as he throws his keys on the table.

"im sorry for worrying about my boyfriend! i just wont give a shit next time, yeah?" i shoot back, confused on why he acts this way every time i start a simple conversation.

"yeah that'd be great, thanks." he mumbles sarcastically, scoffing and sinking into the sofa, flicking through the channels on the tv displayed infront of him.

"are you fucking kidding me tom?" i utter out, in complete disbelief of his childishness.

despite the clear anger in my voice, he stays silent, shaking his head slightly and continuing to look through the channels on the tv, this only fuelling my anger.

"can you listen to me for fucks sake?" my voice begins to raise as my patience is slowly wearing thin. i walk over to the tv, blocking his view and forcing him to look up at me, his eyes cold, an unrecognisable glare within them in place of the usual love that emits from them whenever our gazes meet. 

"what?" he sighs, rubbing his forehead with his thumb and pointer finger.

"i'd appreciate it if you fucking listened to me, just for one second! i'm tired of sitting here alone, every night, wondering where the fuck you are because you're my boyfriend but i know nothing about you! i never get a text, a call, nothing! instead you come home at god knows what time, and act as if i don't exist. fuck tom, you won't even cuddle me in bed anymore." my voice begins to trail off, tears beginning to cloud my vision, my tongue instinctively hitting the roof of my mouth to stop them from falling.

he stays silent, breaking his eyes away from mine and staring into his lap, his fingers playing with the material of his jeans.

"do you even love me anymore?" i ask, genuinely questioning if he feels the same way he did when we first met, the man that fell in love with me no longer in front of me.

"what? of course i fucking love you. what kind of question is that?" his head shoots upwards, his eyebrows threading together as if i have asked the most ridiculous question, though it was one nagging on my mind.

"really? it doesn't seem like it." i reply, shaking my head and biting my lip, the tears now spilling beyond my control.

"i'm going to bed." i mumble, not waiting for a response from tom as i head for our shared bedroom. the sheets feel cold as i allow them to envelop me, the warmth that i would feel from tom's embrace lost, leaving me empty. it is impossible to fall asleep, my body laid on its side facing away from the door and staring motionless at the wall, longing to be in his arms, safe and content, free of the gut-wrenching realisation that our relationship is not the same as it was.

the door slowly creaks open after a while, my eyes quickly flicking shut as i pretend to be asleep, not keen on the idea of speaking to tom, not whilst his mind is acting so irrationally, mine sensitive enough that any argument would break down my already crumbling walls. i hear the bed dip beside me, tom laying flat on his back, whilst i stay put, not daring to look at him, instead keeping my back to him. the distance between us speaks volumes, tension reaching an all time high.

after a few minutes, the bed creaks, indicating that tom is moving from his initial position. as he has done for the past nights, i expect him to shuffle to the edge of the bed, increasing our already far proximity and confirming the fact that he cannot bare the thought of being near me.

however, much to my disbelief, i feel an arm droop around my waist from behind, tom's hand gently touching my stomach as he tests the waters, clearly thinking that i am deep in sleep. deciding to stay still, my eyes remain closed, accepting this small act of affection, for it is all i have experienced in the past weeks. but, to my surprise, he doesn't stop there.

he moves closer, his chest now flush against my back, pulling me tighter into him as i feel his uncertain breathing against the nape of my neck. my breath instinctively hitches at his unexpected actions, alerting him of my consciousness.

"baby?" he whispers into the dark room, not moving as he awaits my response.

"hm?" i mutter, unsure of what to say, not intending to reveal the fact that i was in fact awake, my cover completely blown as i lay, small and vulnerable, beside him, his body against me for the first time in forever. the uncertainty of what his response will be creates a sickly feeling in my chest. he could want to fight, to let out the last of his anger from our unfinished argument. or, he could want to fix things, to be the boyfriend he used to be. and right now, my mind was going with the first option, assuming the worst and bracing myself for more of his harsh words.

"we need to talk." he speaks, his breath fanning against my neck with each word.

i knew that he was right, my heart aching slightly as the possibility of resolving whatever the fuck we have become finally starts to feel real, not just something that i have longed for.

refusing to face him, i slowly nod my head, awaiting his response, the sound of our steady breathing the only thing to be heard in the silent room.

"i'm so sorry baby." he speaks, slowly and sincerely, his hand that is draped over my stomach beginning to slowly caress the bare skin there, comforting me in the best way. tears begin to silently roll down my cheeks as i struggle to find the right words to say.

he takes my silence as a chance to continue. "what happened to us my love, hm?" he begins, sighing slowly and increasing his hold on me, the pet name causing my heart to swell, making me realise how much i truly missed his affection, wether it be verbal or physical - i just craved him.

short sniffles emit from my mouth, giving away my weakness faster than i would have preferred. tom quickly picks up on this, finally turning me to face him, our eyes meeting, his immediately softening once he takes in my state - eyes bloodshot, tears staining my cheeks, mouth curved into a frown.

"oh baby..." he trails off, taking his hand and beginning to wipe my tears away one by one, the other gently stroking my hair. i melt into his touch, allowing him to comfort me silently. "i can't carry on like this, i just- i need to be with you again, not just in a relationship with you, i want to actually feel close to you again."

he pours his heart out, all whilst wiping any loose tears that fell from my eyes, which never left his, the love in them beginning to flood back as i can slowly recognise the man i fell in love with.

"do you really think that i don't love you anymore?" he asks, guilt evident in his tone as he feels nothing but anger for making me doubt how he felt about me.

i try to find the right words, swallowing nervously. "you didn't want to be anywhere near me tom. i can't even remember the last time you told me that you loved me." uttering those words made me realise how bad things had really gotten. tom would tell me he loved me at every chance he got, never failing to remind me of how he felt. but looking back, those three words felt so foreign that my mind couldn't even remember when he had last uttered them. and the realisation hit him just as hard as it did me.

"oh meine liebe...i'm so sorry." he starts, now slowly kissing away each tear that stained my tinted cheeks, holding my face gently in his hands. "i love you. i love you so so much. never ever forget that, okay?"

i nod my head, swallowing the lump in my throat away. "i love you too."

a slight smile appears on his face, my hand reaching to his head as i pull it closer, playing with the loose braids there. tom takes advantage of our nearing proximity, grabbing my face and gently connecting his lips with mine. for the first time in days, our lips touched, immediately moulding together as if they had never been apart. he smiles into the kiss, moving his hands to my lower back, pulling me closer to him and embracing me, our lips never parting. the desire, the passion in which our lips collided reaffirming our love without the need for words, my body and soul slips further into his touch, reminding me just how much i missed intimate moments like this with him.

he slowly pulls away for air, his lips, now pink and swollen, flush against mine, foreheads touching. "i promise baby, that i'll never give up on us, no matter how hard it gets. i'll never stop loving you, ever."

deciding that actions speak louder than words, i reconnect our lips once more, with much more desire and hunger than the previous one. he picks up on this need, reciprocating it and pressing his lips so hard onto mine that my breathing becomes muffled and there is no option of pulling away - but in this moment, parting from him doesn't even cross my mind. his hand moves to my thigh, placing it over his and kneading the flesh roughly as we lay facing each other, a small whimper escaping my mouth at his actions. our lips fail to part, making up for the lost kisses that we had so desperately yearned for.

lust soon takes over the innocence, my need for him growing by the second as our kisses become harsher, his tongue entering my mouth, mine gladly reciprocating. "i love you." he whispers breathlessly against my lips, pulling away slowly and studying my face. his thumb tugs at my lip, his eyes never leaving mine as he drags it down the now plump skin at an agonisingly slow pace, until he releases my bottom lip, it quickly bouncing back into place, his thumb now slightly wet with my saliva.

"you're so beautiful." he whispers, caressing my cheeks, taking in every inch of me as if this is the first time he has seen me.

"i need you tom." i mutter, looking into his eyes with a glint of desperation, longing to feel him again, our distance meaning it has been so long since we have kissed like we just did, let alone fuck.

within seconds, his lips are back on mine, his body moving in one swift motion on top of me without breaking the kiss, hands clutching mine, mirroring the hunger i feel.

"then i'm all yours." he mutters against my lips, reattaching them and entering his tongue as i gladly accept, moaning slightly into the kiss, a small smirk appearing on his lips in response.

he pulls away, looking into my eyes before reaching for the hem of my t-shirt and whispering "can i?"

i slowly nod my head, the soft fabric being pulled off my body and somewhere on the floor, both tom and i too needy to care where. his eyes scan my body, a hint of adoration within his eyes, his hands reaching for my small lace bra, undoing the back and tossing it aside. he pauses, gazing down at me, drinking in my features, everything exposed to him. despite the look of awe on his face, insecurity takes over, and my hands instinctively cover my breasts, breaking eye contact from him.

tom quickly takes his hands, placing them over mine and moving them away so that he could see me once again. "don't cover yourself, you're so beautiful."

i hesitantly nod my head, moving to remove tom's shirt, his chiselled abs and torso now on display. refusing to break eye contact, my hand slowly runs down the skin, feeling every bump, every muscle there, his breathing hitching as i do so. it has been so long since i had felt his bare skin against mine that it almost didn't feel real, my being lost in pleasure despite us not taking anything further yet.

i soon become impatient, pulling his face downwards and kissing him once more, his hands reaching for my panties and slowly pulling them down, soon removing his boxers, leaving us completely naked.

he pulls away, staring into my eyes and positioning himself at my entrance. "are you sure my love?" he asks, searching my expression for any sense of doubt, hating the idea of forcing me to do anything.

"yes...just fuck me, please." i breathe out, craving the feeling i have missed so much.

he smiles slightly, before slowly sliding in, groaning as he does so, my walls clenching around him, not used to his size as it has been so long since we have last done this. once he is fully inside, he stops. "you okay baby? does it hurt?"

"no...move tom." i reply, and he slowly begins thrusting in and out of me at a steady pace, whines emitting from my mouth as my eyes squeeze shut. his head finds the crook of my neck, groaning into it and beginning to kiss the skin, sucking lightly and leaving marks whilst speeding up his pace.

"oh my god." he mutters into the skin, his hands running up and down my waist until they find a stable hold on my hips, thrusting easier whilst his thumbs caress me, slightly digging in, however the slight pain only fuels my fire, moans now escaping from my mouth.

"oh tom..." i trail off, hands raking down his back, pulling him downwards so our bodies our flush against each other, desperate to feel any part of him, to be closer, despite him literally being inside me.

"i love you so much." he groans out, taking my legs and wrapping them around his waist.

he continues to thrust in and out of me, his tip hitting my g-spot, and i cry out. "oh god, right there tom..."

"here baby?" he taunts, hitting the spot again, causing my eyes to roll to the back of my head. he abuses that spot, my stomach beginning to tighten as the familiar feeling soon takes over.

i clench around him, feeling my release creep closer and closer. "fuck schatz, do that again." he breathes out, and i tighten my walls again, a choked moan escaping his mouth.

"i'm close." he manages to let out, speeding up his pace and capturing my lips into a kiss, moaning into my mouth. i struggle to kiss back, holding back sounds of pleasure each time he thrusts in and out, the sound of my heavy breathing muffled in the kiss.

"tom...i'm gonna, oh my god!" i cry out against his lips, feeling my release wash over me, eyes rolling to the back of my head as i swear i see stars.

"oh fuckkk..." tom drags out, throwing his head back, jaw slack as he follows, my release triggering his own, the feeling of his cum coating my walls emitting another small whine from my mouth.

he moves slowly, thrusting in and out whilst he rides out our highs before collapsing on top of me, sweat coating his forehead. his head rests in my neck, breathing uneven and heavy, planting gentle kisses on the bare skin. i struggle to catch my own breath, my fingers running through his hair, body trembling as the adrenaline slowly wears off.

"i love you so much my love. i'm sorry for everything, i promise i'll never treat you like that again." he says, planting a single kiss on my shoulder.

"i love you too." i reply, tom lifting his head upwards and meeting my lips in a soft kiss, pulling away and wrapping his arms around my waist.

"goodnight meine liebe." he whispers, placing the covers over the both of us as i snuggle closer, resting my head on his bare chest as he slowly strokes my hair, falling asleep in each other's embrace.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

[lyjen]

Ask for help | Part 2

Evan Buckley x Sister reader

A request by: @shauna-carsley - The request

Summary: As (y/n) and her fiancé get hit by a drunk driver, she loses the love of her life. Her family and best friend are trying to help her whenever and where they possibly can. Until she shuts them out.

<< Previous Chapter | 9-1-1 masterlist

Taglist: Let me know if you want to be added in the comments or message me! 😊🫶🏽

______

(Y/n) is standing in front of the station. Simply just staring at the giant red garage doors. After weeks of physical therapy, and talking to Frank she was back at work. She took one more deep breath, and walked into the firehouse.

With her bag slung over her shoulder, she walked over the threshold into the firehouse and made her way towards the locker room. When she heard a familiar voice calling through the firehouse. “Well if it isn’t my favorite paramedic!” Eddie’s voice spoke as he ran down stairs and across the floor towards his best friend. He opened his arms and pulled her into a hug. “Finally we get to work together again” he spoke as he almost squeezed her to death.

A smile formed on (y/n)’s face, Eddie’s arm patted on her back and he pulled back. Eddie held her shoulders as he scanned her body. She was looking good. She finally was dragged out of that deep dark hole.”I'm so proud of you” he said as he once more pulled her close and pressed a small kiss on the back of her head.

Eddie was happy to see that she actually was getting better.He slung his arm around her shoulder as he walked with her between the trucks, towards the locker room. “Are you ready for your first shift back?” he asked. She sighed, “Yeah.. I think I'm ready to get back out there, and actually do what I love.”

It has been a rough couple of weeks, months. Ever since Eddie came over to her house and confronted her with her problems, they’ve been closer than ever. Which even (y/n) didn’t know that was possible. She has been close to Eddie for years, but to think that this horrible situation actually made them become even closer, filled her heart with love. Eddie had helped (y/n) a lot in these last couple of weeks. If Eddie didn’t show up when he did, she still might have been in her bed, crying over Jay, or maybe she wouldn’t even have made it this far.

She went to therapy, which helped a lot. (Y/n) wasn’t the kind of person to talk to a stranger about her feelings, it made her uncomfortable. But she knew she needed help, so she had to just step out of her comfort zone, and set her standards aside and talk to Frank. What also helped was that she knew she had the entire 118 who had her back. Even if it was only a phone call or a text, it was enough for her. It made her feel like she was being seen.

A smile was spread across Eddie’s face as she said those words. “We’re happy to have you back (y/n), It hasn’t been the same here without you.” he spoke. (Y/n) softly nodded, while she pressed her lips into a thin line, not really knowing what to say.

She was happy to be back at the firehouse, but she was scared for this shift. It has been a while since she gave medical advice. But she knew she had her fellow paramedics to lean on, Eddie, Hen and Chimney would be there every step of the way.

(Y/n) walked into the locker room, following after Eddie. “Well if it isn’t my favorite Buckley sibling!” Bobby said as his eyes spotted her walking into the room. Bobby tied the lace of his boot and made his way towards the female firefighter who just entered the room.

Her brother was right there, just pressing the last button of his shirt. Evan scoffed at Bobby’s words, “Hello? "I'm right here!” he said offended, but Bobby just ignored him. Evan didn't seem too happy with Bobby calling her his favorite Buckley. But, for now he could live with that. He loved his sister, and he was happy to see her back at work again. So if that would mean that she was at the moment Bobby’s favorite, he was okay with that.

Evan felt a hand land on his shoulder, when he looks to the left he sees Eddie just laughing at his comment.

“Welcome back firefighter Buckley, glad to have you back.” Bobby said as he squeezed her shoulder. Her eyes wandered from the hand on her shoulder to Bobby. “Thanks cap, it’s good to be back again.” Bobby’s hand slipped away from her shoulder and he left the locker room.

“Ready for the chaos today, sis?” Evan spoke as (Y/n) let her bag fall onto the bench in front of her locker. “Are you ever really ready?” she asked as she started to peel off the taped on name of the floater who used the locker. Evan smiled at her reaction, that was the kind of reaction he would’ve expected from his sister. He was happy to see this side of her again. This time she wasn’t screaming at him, crying or feeling down. “We’ll leave you to it.” Eddie said as he walked out of the locker room with Evan following close behind him, when Evan stopped as he passed by his sister.

“If there’s anything wrong, just tell me. Okay? I'm here for you.” he spoke as he reassuringly squeezed her upper arm. “I know..” she says as she lays her hand on his and rubs up and down on the back of his hand. Evan gave her a small smile and jogged out of the locker room. “Oh and Buck..” Evan stopped in his tracks and turned around to face his sister once more. “Thank you… for not giving up on me.” she said while she fiddled her uniform shirt in her hands.

“Always.”

______

The sirens of the trucks and ambulance roared through the streets of Los Angeles. The blue and red lights were lighting up the night sky of Los Angeles, as they raced towards the scene.

The entire day the 118 had been on small calls like: cats that needed rescuing from trees and small kitchen fires. But this one sounded like they were going to be busy for a moment.

The ambulance pulled to a stop as Hen stepped on the brake. “We got this, lets go” Hen gave (y/n) a small peptalk. She trusted her, even though this was her first shift after her accident.

(Y/n) pushed the passenger door of the ambulance open and hopped out. She opened the door of the ambulance and she grabbed the medic bag from the back. But when she turned her face towards the scene, her stomach turned and she got the feeling like she couldn’t breathe.

It was exactly the situation she would’ve been in if she steered one inch to the left or right. She just stood there, like she had turned into a statue. The chaotic sounds on scene became an echo, nothing came through. Everything around her seems to be moving in slow motion.

She wanted to move, she really did. But it felt like her legs were made of stone, and she couldn’t seem to move. “(Y/n)?” An echo of her name sounded through her eardrums, but as soon as she felt a hand on her shoulder, she woke up from her trance. “(Y/n)? Are you coming?” Hen asked her partner. (Y/n) shook off the thought, “Yeah” she whispered, barely audible, and she followed Hen towards the scene.

The car crashed into a concrete wall and had just missed a tree.

Before the team came up with a plan on how to open the driver's door, (y/n) quickly put her index and middle finger on the neck of the victim, checking for his pulse. “He has a pulse but it’s barely there!” she said as she ran towards the other side of the car, which was busted open with a halligan so (Y/n) could enter the car.

Before she could get into the passenger side of the car, she stopped in her tracks as a vague figure stepped forward. “That could’ve been you.” his voice spoke. It was Jay. His voice. His body. The whole picture, it was here.

She felt like she was going to lose it right here, right now. (Y/n) closed her eyes for a second, “He’s not real.” she whispered to herself, and she got in the car. She had to stay focussed, she was going to prove herself and her team that she still could do her job, after all she had been through.

(Y/n) had heard his voice inside her head for weeks. But it looked like, just as everything in her life started to get good again, her mind was telling her no.

She leaned her left leg onto the chair and her right leg was balancing her on the floor of the car as she tried to access the man. The victim's head was leaning against the steering wheel, with lots of blood on the right side of the person's face. His head had hit the windshield. (Y/n) could see his eye rolling to the back of his head as she carefully helped the man to sit up straight so she could put on the neck brace.

The figure she was imagining was now in the back of the car, leaning over to look at what she was doing. “Well, that was too late for me” he said. That was typically what he would’ve said. He was the one with the darkest humor and the sarcasm all over the place.

She shook her head at the reaction of the figure. Maybe it would go away if she just ignored it and stayed focussed on the job. A shiver rolled down her spine as she took a look at the man’s face. It looked so much worse than she thought. “Hen, get me a neck brace!” she called over to her partner, who passed her a neck brace. She carefully slipped on the brace and secured it around her neck.

In the meanwhile Eddie was opening the driver’s door with the jaws so they could easily help the man get out of the car on a backboard.

“Let’s get a backboard!” Eddie yelled at the team, who passed the backboard towards the driver’s side of the car.

“Watch his head” Eddie warned the other firefighters as Eddie and Evan turned the man on his seat and slipped him onto a backboard. Another firefighter already had the gurney waiting on the side “Let’s move it!” Eddie spoke as a bunch of firefighters carried the backboard with the man on it towards the gurney and carefully heaved him over onto the gurney.

When (Y/n) stepped out of the car, and took a few steps back from the vehicle.

“You did a great job.” Jay’s voice sounded proud.

She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding in, but it sounded more like a cry. Both her hands went into her hair and she let herself fall down on her knees. She felt like she was going to lose her mind all over again. Tears were rolling down her face.

(Y/n) knew she had to step into that ambulance with Hen, but as soon as Bobby saw her there, in the middle of the street. He told Chimney to get in the back of the ambulance and drive with Hen towards the hospital. Bobby knew she needed a minute as soon as he looked at her face.

“Hey hey hey! You okay?” Evan spoke up as he kneeled down beside his sister and slid his hand onto her shoulder, trying to comfort her.

She let her hands slide over her face, to wipe away her tears and to process what the hell just happened. (Y/n) looked silently at her brother, “I think so.. just, some stress I guess.” she whispered as she leaned her forehead against his shoulder.

“Sounds like this call was a little too close to home, Am I right?” Evan asked as he placed his hand on the back of her head, reeling her into his body. He felt her head nod against his shoulder as an answer to his question.

Her hands slipped underneath his arms to reach his back and she turned her head so her ear was now against his chest. They just stayed silent for a bit, hugging each other. That’s what she needed for a long time, someone who would just give her a hug sometimes.

Sure, she would get hugs from Eddie. But right now what she wanted was a hug from her brother, the brother who raised her, the same way Maddie raised Evan. And just tell her that everything was going to be okay. That she would be okay.

She pulled back from the hug and let her hands rest on his forearms. “This all made me think of.. what I’ve been through or what could’ve happened.” she spoke up as she looked down at her knees that were connected with the asphalt.

Evan nodded at her confession, he understood what she meant. This call was almost an exact copy of the situation she was in months ago. He remembered that night, the way his heart dropped at the sight. The way he wished that it wasn’t his sister’s car that crashed into the tree. The way he screamed her name on the top of his lungs.

After a few counts of silence (y/n)’s voice made its way through Evan’s eardrums. “I’ve been seeing him.” she whispered.

Evan’s face morphed into a confused look, he didn’t understand what she said. She has been seeing him? What did she mean by that? “What?” Evan said as he furrowed his eyebrows at his sister.

“Jay. Sometimes I can just see him, and sometimes I can only hear his voice. I know I sound like a crazy person-”

“No, no, no! Not at all. You’re not crazy.” Evan interrupted as he felt like (Y/n) was sounding like she was going to rattle. “You’ve been through a traumatizing event, of course it’s gonna leave its scars. And I do believe that you can hear him or sometimes see him, and that’s fine.” He tries to comfort her.

He moved his hand to the back of her head as he looked into his sister’s eyes.

“To me it sounds like you will never forget Jay the way he was. That you won’t remember him as the Jay you saw when you crashed your car.” Tears were welling into her eyes again as he said those words. She closed her eyes as she looked down to her knees and a tear escaped her eyelids. She pressed her lips into a thin line as she faced Evan once more. “Thank you” she cried. “Always” And he pushed the hand which was resting on the back of her head towards his chest, so she could bury her face into his chest. “I’ll always be there for you.”

[shitsndgiggs]

Hey... can you write about kenan yildiz x reader where they are in established relationship and she had an opportunity to do this modeling job where she had to wear wedding dress on runway... and his kind of reaction to seeing her in that way and his teammates teasing him about it. I'm talking about those big beautiful wedding dresses that are elegant and iconic... make it fluff...

WALKING THE RUNWAY - KENAN YILDIZ

In which kenan is mesmerized when you walk down the runway in a wedding dress

Kenan Yildiz x model! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

Kenan and I had been dating for a couple of years now, and he was always so supportive of my career as a model.

But tonight was special. I had been selected to model a series of wedding dresses for a high-end fashion show, and Kenan had insisted on being there to watch me.

The venue was packed, the lights were blinding, and the music was loud. The energy was electric, and I could feel the excitement coursing through my veins as I stood backstage, waiting for my turn. I took a deep breath, smoothing out the intricate lace on my dress.

"You're up next," a stagehand whispered to me.

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. I knew Kenan was out there somewhere in the audience, probably sitting with his teammates.

The thought made me smile. He always looked so proud when he watched me work.

As I stepped onto the runway, the lights dimmed, and a spotlight focused on me. The crowd hushed, and I could feel all eyes on me. The dress was a masterpiece—an elegant, iconic wedding gown with layers of delicate fabric that flowed like a dream.

The bodice was adorned with intricate beadwork, and the train trailed behind me, shimmering under the lights.

I walked down the runway with confidence, my eyes scanning the audience until I found Kenan.

He was sitting in the front row with some of his teammates, and I could see his jaw drop as he took in the sight of me in the wedding dress.

His eyes were wide with awe, and a proud smile spread across his face.

As I reached the end of the runway, I struck a pose, the dress fanning out around me. The audience erupted in applause, but all I could see was Kenan, his eyes filled with admiration and love.

Backstage, as I prepared for my next outfit, Kenan's teammates were quick to tease him.

"Dude, did you see the look on your face when she walked out?" one of them laughed. "You looked like you were about to propose right there!"

Kenan chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I couldn't help it. She looked incredible."

"Better start saving up, man," another teammate joked. "She might want a dress like that for the real thing."

Kenan grinned, still mesmerized by the sight of me in the dress. "I'd buy her a hundred dresses if it means I get to see her that happy."

When the show finally ended, and I had changed back into my regular clothes, I found Kenan waiting for me backstage.

He pulled me into a tight hug, lifting me off the ground and spinning me around.

"You were amazing," he said, his voice filled with pride. "I couldn't take my eyes off you."

I laughed, wrapping my arms around his neck. "You say that every time."

"But this time, I mean it even more," he said, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "You were absolutely breathtaking in that dress."

I blushed, looking down at my feet. "Thank you, Kenan. It means a lot to me that you were here."

He cupped my face in his hands, tilting my head up to look at him. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world. Seeing you up there, so beautiful and confident... it made me realize how lucky I am to have you in my life."

I smiled, leaning into his touch. "I'm the lucky one, Kenan."

He kissed me then, soft and tender, his lips lingering on mine. When we pulled apart, he rested his forehead against mine. "I can't wait for the day when I get to see you walk down the aisle for real."

I felt my heart swell with love and happiness. "Me too, Kenan. Me too."

[anm3mi]

MY RIGHT PERSON, OUR WRONG TIME ─ NETEYAM ⊹ ִֶָ

contents. fem!omaticaya!reader, hurt no comfort

notes. i love pure hurt no comfort hihi👹👹

the eclipse was getting closer, and with each passing second, your worries only grew. it was now or never, you reminded yourself, as you harshly bit your lower lip. your body tensed upon the sudden sting. you swallowed the taste of metal, before wiping away the small amount of blood leaking from your mouth with the back of your hand.

you took in the view front of you, sharply inhaling. the tree of voices. it was a strange place to simply hang out at with your lover, but you had a reason for bringing neteyam there tonight. this night might be the last one in your village, and you wanted to cherish it. after all, you grew up there. it was the place where you met neteyam, the person who changed you and your life forever.

all your memories begun to replay in your head, causing your eyes to flutter, as tears begun to form in your eyes. letting your eyelids fall, you harshly blinked the tears away, finally taking your eyes off the tree. "Nete..?" you whispered over your shoulder in an attempt to wake up the older boy. almost every day, the two of you would hang out late at night and neteyam would fall asleep - tired from training with you in his arms, while you silently adored him, playing with his hair or just taking in his beautiful features. his back was pressed against one of the many trees, while his arms were loosely wrapped around your body. your back pressed against his chest, sitting between his legs with neteyam's head resting in the crook of your neck.

"mhm? is everything okay?" tiredness laced his voice, as neteyam finally raised his head to look at you. "yeah, yeah... i--" you couldn't help, but already miss his warm touch, as you sat up and turned to face the older boy, his arms falling freely to the ground. "i need to talk to you about something." you confessed, playing with the dead skin around your fingernails anxiously.

"you can talk to me, y/n." placing his hand on top of yours, neteyam explained, as he rubbed his thumb over the bracelet decorating your wrist. no matter the amount of love you held for the clan, neteyam and his family, who took you in after you were left all alone, your past continued to haunt you. every place in the village you'd lay your eyes upon reminded you of unpleasant memories, and with that, you came to a conclusion. you needed to get as far away as possible with the hope of finally leaving your traumatic past behind.

a lump grew inside you throat, as you grasped neteyam's hands in yours. "let's run away." you whispered. silence fell over the two of you, as you desperately looked in your lover's eyes. neteyam could see the forming tears in you eyes, signalling what you just said wasn't some kind of a prank. "i'm serious, neteyam, let's get away from this place. just the two of us." you begged, as a single tear ran down your cheek. your stomach twisted with anxiety, when neteyam only stared at you in silence with an unreadable expression.

"what are you talking about, y/n?" neteyam furrowed his brows in confusion, before pulling his hands back. your heart dropped at his move. "this is our home." he added, as you quickly shook you head from side to side, gulping down. "no... you're my home, neteyam. please." once again, you reached out for his comforting touch, but neteyam dodged away. swiftly standing up, he looked down at you with a strange expression, his own heart beating rapidly.

"is this... about what happened?" neteyam begun, "i understand it's hard to live in the same village all those awful things took place, but you cannot just- just run away from your past." as you got up from the ground, hugging yourself while desperately searching for even the smallest bit of comfort, neteyam held out his shaky hand, but you only looked at him with a dejected face. "neteyam, you don't get it. we have to get away. i have to get away." you tried to hold back more tears. "so what? you expect me to leave me family here? i'm the next olo'eyktan, i have responsibilities-- i can't leave." neteyam's voice grew louder, as he begun to get upset over his lover's request. "i love you, y/n, i truly do, but..." shaking his head from side to side, neteyam averted his gaze, before letting out a shaky breath.

staring at his distressed expression and hearing his words echo inside your ears, you felt your stomach tightening. you didn't think about it that way. you only thought about yourself and your own feelings, as you wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole at the moment. your expression falling at the sudden realization, you begun to uncontrollably sob. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry..." you muttered, before neteyam took a step closer, slowly pulling you into his chest. his touch gentle, as if you were about to shatter any minute. he understood your struggle and wanted only the best for you, but he couldn't leave his parents and siblings behind. "i'm so selfish, i wasn't thinking--" you continued to cry into his chest, as neteyam gently caressed the back of your head. "it's alright. but please, don't say stuff like that anymore." he attempted to assure you.

with your face hidden in the crook of neteyam's neck, you opened your mouth, but closed it as soon as no words came out, just another painful sob. you wanted nothing more than to tell neteyam how much it pained you to have the past follow you for every second of the day, even in your sleep.

few minutes have passed and your crying begun to calm down. "y/n?" neteyam softly whispered, as you looked up at him with tear-stained face. "promise me you won't leave?" at his words, you felt a lump growing inside your throat, slowly crawling its way out. you couldn't lie. especially not to neteyam, so instead, you pulled him closer for a kiss. but this kiss wasn't like any other ones the two of you have shared. and it didn't go unnoticed by neteyam - the way you held him like he'd disappear the second you let go.

"let's go home, okay?" carefully caressing your cheek with his thumb, neteyam offered, earning a simple nod from you. intertwining your hands, neteyam begun to pull you with him, as you stole one last glance at the tree of voices. "i'm sorry. forgive me, eywa." you quietly whispered, the wind carrying her words away.

without a single word spoken, you gave neteyam's hand one last squeeze, before you parted, each taking off on your own ikran. with an aching heart, you watched as neteyam slowly disappeared into the dark night, before letting out a long shaky breath. "we're gonna be alright..." gently caressing the side of your ikran, you muttered, more to yourself than to your ikran.

"neteyam!" a hand waving in front of the older boy's face snapped him out of his thoughts, as he threw a confused look at his brother. "what's going on with you, bro?" lo'ak nudged neteyam's shoulder, expecting a snarky comment in response, but instead neteyam's eyes fell to the floor once again, as he stayed silent.

ever since the moment he woke up, neteyam had a strange feeling growing inside his stomach - like something bad was about to happen, yet he couldn't place his finger on it. looking around, he made sure his parents and siblings were all nearby and well, and they were. furrowing his brows in pure confusion, neteyam got lost in his thoughts once again.

he thought about everything over and over again, desperate to know why he felt so strange. his parents and siblings were barely a few feet away from him and fine, he wasn't late to a training nor forgot any of his chores, and you, who'd never break a promise, promised you wouldn't leave- you promised...? the last night played on repeat inside neteyam's mind, until he realised one thing. you did in fact not promise anything.

eyes widening, neteyam's heart skipped a beat as he jumped out of his bed, before running as fast as he could towards your place. you wouldn't leave, would you? neteyam questioned himself, ignoring the worried calls of his name coming from his parents. thank eywa, you lived quite close, meaning it only took neteyam about a minute to get to your place, especially with how fast he was running.

heavy breaths escaped neteyam's lips, as he frantically looked around your place, hoping to catch a glimpse of you, but he didn't. instead, his eyes fell on the bracelet laying on top of your bed. the same bracelet neteyam was looking at last night - the same bracelet you never took off. "no, no..." gulping down, neteyam muttered to himself, quickly grabbing the bracelet, before desperately looking around, once again.

the realization begun to set in, causing his heart to painfully ache. his knuckles turned white, as the grip on the bracelet grew stronger. but neteyam couldn't care less how the beads pricked at his skin, because all he could think about - is how he should have begged her to stay a little more.

[t4tozier]

Hi are we still doing fuck nasty asks. Bc. I have two scenarios in my brain that I’ve been dying to talk about but haven’t had the courage.

1) sex pollen. Or aphrodisiac. No I don’t know how. WAIT THAT’S A LIE DEVIL HONEY IS A THING C’MON THERE’S SOMETHING THERE RIGHT???? RIGHT?????

2) Knife kink. Listen. If Porter so visibly marked Jace with his symbol I think Jace should have the right to do the same to Porter.

WOOOO love both of these. so i'm actually gonna start with number 2 because we have talked about this a little bit. if you want me to expand i can but i'll link those posts here: blood play, carving his name into porter, and the first time jace tries knife play

but sex pollen. oh boy. ohhhhh boy. jokes on you you've unlocked a new skill in ur skill tree it's getting t4tozier to talk about sex pollen. we've talked about ambrosia-laced blood getting jace high in the past, but none of those were my original posts and also not what this is about. so. sex pollen. this isn't canon compliant but idc. sorry.

jace and porter go on an adventure together. don't ask me why. maybe it's a faculty adventure to clear out a dungeon of most of the creatures so they can take students on a practical field trip and they split into pairs/groups and starbreaker just happens to be trapped in a lair with a creature that defends itself by spraying aphrodisiacs at its enemies, making them much more distracted with fucking each other than fighting it. and they're arguing the whole time about martial vs caster classes and the pros and cons and then they're confronted with the creature and porter whips out his maul and jace starts casting a spell but before they can act it expels some gross pink dust all over them. and jace goes to prestidigitate it off as like a bonus action--but then...why would he do that? it feels nice, warm and tingly as it settles into his skin, and suddenly he feels a lot hotter than he did before. he unwinds his scarf, casting it carelessly to the side, and blinks up at porter. has he always been this tall?

and porter sets down his maul, actually needing to lean on it for stability as he catches his bearings, because he's pretty sure he was supposed to fight, he was in a rage, but now all he can focus on is how fucking hard he is and the pretty half-elf standing right in front of him, and all of the energy from his rage immediately shifts to making sure he gives jace stardiamond the best godsdamn fuck of his life.

they both look at each other and, as if they have the same idea at the same time, practically launch themselves at each other and start tearing each other's clothes off. porter's rough and pays little attention to when jace's head knocks against a particularly sharp rock on the way down, but jace doesn't really care because then porter is tugging his pants down and fuck, his cock feels so much better when it's not trapped and he's really fucking wet, why is he dripping so much? and then porter's pulling off his shirt and jace's thoughts just kind of fuzz out because wow, this man has an impressive physique, and his cock looks really big even though he hasn't even taken his pants off yet and jace needs it in his mouth fucking yesterday.

they're still fucking when the others find them. they have to actually kill the creature that starbreaker failed their initial saves against before they can even think about stopping porter from fucking jace up against the nearest surface for the third time in twenty minutes because both of their refractory periods have been reduced to practically nothing. thankfully, none of the other faculty mention it--it's just one of those goofy adventuring effects--but if they exchange numbers after they return from the lair clear-out, that's nobody's business but theirs.

[y-rhywbeth2]

Clothes and Fashion

Link: Disclaimer regarding D&D "canon" & Index [tldr: D&D lore is a giant conflicting mess. Larian's lore is also a conflicting mess. There's a lot of lore; I don't know everything. You learn to take what you want and leave the rest, etc etc etc]

Clothes in general; underwear; not wasting trousers on children who'll only outgrow them within the week; pockets! Sparkly hats; cosmetics; the word for hair care products; etc.

Demihuman cultures might vary slightly from this, but will generally follow the gist of it and they're all noted to be far less fashion conscious than humans. Dwarves, gnomes and orcs as a norm like to dress practically in durable clothes. Halflings, goblins and kobolds will blend in quietly until special occasions, where they'll dress as brightly and colourfully as possible. Elves have their own various culture-specific fashion trends, but mostly tend to wear whatever the hell they personally feel like wearing, be that human fashion, diaphanous gowns, or just living plants trained to be worn as garments with some jewellery.

-

Underwear:

Dethmas: '...a tight cloth breast-binding or sling (the equivalent of a modern sports bra, although instead of stretchy fabric covering a lot of skin, the Realms version is more like a trough or shelf of tightly-stretched cloth sewn to cords (precisely because elastic fabric is largely unknown in the Realms).

The concept of wire for breast support and shaping is unknown in the Realms, but corsets (laced-up, tight boiled hide, not whalebone or any sort of stiffeners) and stomachers that cinch the waist tight are popular, and many of them have shaped panels for the hips and a top ‘shelf’ to thrust out and support the breasts. Corsets are also unisex garments.

Clouts: '...a very tight leather, cloth, or cord (listed here in descending order of perceived quality and durability) belt worn around the hips, and usually held tight by multiple hooks (like a modern bra) at the front. Then a long, diaper-like strip of rectangular cloth (usually cotton) is passed between the legs, up through the front of the belt to dangle down, and up through the back of the belt to dangle down. [...] In many cases, the dangling front and back ends are designed to be tied together, and the cloth may be folded in on itself for absorbency [menstruation] and padding [horse riding].' Clouts come in fancy lingerie styles and are easily available in cities. Those who menstruate place extra layers of thick red cloth in and change as necessary.

Codpieces are also normally worn.

Black - and especially red - are considered the 'sexy' colours, especially when applied to undergarments. I'm going to make a different post about dating and so on in Faerûn though, so I'll talk about dressing sexy there instead.

-

Children:

Nobody wastes money getting complicated clothes for growing children who are going to outgrow their garments in a matter of weeks or months. All children wear smocks, usually hand-me-downs, ‘with leggings or pull-on hose (long stockings tied to an underbelt to keep them from “riding down”) with boots, clogs, slippers for indoor wear, or bare feet.’

Nevertheless, customisation is common enough in children’s clothes. Things such as belts, scarves, deliberately arranging a too-big smock to bare one shoulder in a way that I do remember doing myself as a child, curiously.

-

General:

The majority of people in the Realms can afford a sizable wardrobe. Daily wear tends to be practical, but almost everyone has some kind of fine clothing they’ll bring out on special occasions. Noble and the wealthy women are often seen in fancy gowns, but will likely be wearing practical garb underneath and be prepared to pin up their hems if need be. Nobles also really like their cloaks

All cities and markets will have tailors and seamstresses for altering garments as necessary, whether as repairs and maintenance or for aesthetics like dyes and adornments. Almost all clothiers found in cities are prepared to do on-the-spot alterations. Enameled metals, coloured cut-glass and painted wire are popular amongst the working glass who want to look flashy but can’t afford genuine fancy stuff. Many outfits may be modified, so that armour such as breastplates and gorgets are disguised within fabric and bodices, or jerkins reinforced with armour plating.

Breeches and tunics, the former usually made of leather, are the most common garment on all genders in most of the continent. Skirts are rarely seen, though gowns are common enough. Bare arms, a low neckline that exposes a ‘little bosom’, and a hemline at the mid-calf or lower is considered dressing conservatively. 'Low-cut peasant blouses and even lace trimmings are widely used.'

Keyhole necklines are common along the trade routes of the Heartlands, and they're called 'gracetels' which is an elven word of unknown meaning. The elven empire of Cormanthor was known for skin-exposing risqué fashions (by real-world and in-universe dwarven and gnomish standards, at least), so possibly the word comes from there, although humans were cutting their clothes like this long before Netheril.

It's also called a 'heartbare' or 'heartbearing' cut, and Waterdhavian generation of the 1350s to the 1370s called it a 'splendour-glance.'

The commons style of jerkin on Faerun is a heavy, fitted garment that goes down to the knees and fastens down the front or side by a sustem of toggles and loops. Shoulder padding and a stand-up collar are common, and they usually have pockets (internal or external)

Most people will be wearing belts and baldrics (belts that go diagonally across the chest, over the shoulder) for holding clothes up and carrying items.

A tammalar is a type of baldric with many pouches attached.

Bracelars are leather braces with pouches, popular with merchants.

'...and the scrip, which in recent centuries has come to mean a large piece of leather or cloth with sewn-on ties or thongs, and sewn-on loop or sleeves for those ties to go through. It is gathered up (around goods, to form a carrysack) into a bundle, and kept that way by threading ties through the sleeves (and a user’s belt, to carry it at the hip or hanging from the rear waist).'

Typical shoes are either boots or open-toed sandals. Thigh-high boots and stiletto heels canonically exist, ways to make them stop murdering your feet when you wear them apparently do not.

Hat fashions come and go rapidly. A ‘fancy-me’ or ‘dee’ is a hat that’s been augmented with several feathers, gauze, gemstones and various sparkly things, usually worn by those concerned with fashion.

-

Outdoors wear:

Weathercloaks are ankle-length cloaks made from a light material held together by a brooch. They’re noted to not be much use at keeping the cold out, but are better than nothing. Those with more coin can afford leather longcoats that keep the rain off and greatcloaks for the cold.

-

Piercings:

Ear piercings and naval piercings are common, but other piercings are much more rarely seen outside of some priests who have ritual piercings for religious reasons. In the Western Heartlands (including the Gate) piercing your nostrils is also normal.

A person who has piercings other than these areas is assumed to be clergy, as these alterations are done for religious rites of passages rather than cosmetics.

-

Cosmetics:

Makeup on Toril is called 'fleshpaint' in the tradestongue (i.e., Common), and apparently 'dardarra' in Chondathan and 'adratha' in Alzhedo (unless those are localised words in dialects of Common. It wasn't specified). Apparently they don't know the word 'makeup' at all.

The stuff that we'd recognise as cosmetics is created from a powder base of mud or chalk, mixed with the boiled essences of bark, reptile hide, plant matter or whatever else and then some kind of lipid (animal fat, seed oil, etc), simmered over heat before having colours and maybe scents added in. High-end brands may be enchanted with cantrips or orisons to keep it from going bad.

Fleshpaint is mostly popular in the south (Vilhon reach and lower), with most of the cosmetics industry working in southern Tethyr, the Vilhon, Chessenta and etc.

In the northern half of Faerûn, for the most part, your cosmetics options are mostly stuff like crushed berries that temporarily dye the skin that you can make in the kitchen.

Obviously trade hubs like the Gate and Waterdeep import the stuff, though it may not be cheap. You can buy it from street stalls or from beauty stores. Average decent quality product is 4-8gp, with the worse stuff peddled on the street going for 4sp (which is a decent chunk of most people's weekly wages gone). The luxury brands go for 20-75+gp per tiny bottle. It's also mostly popular with nobles and the nouveau-riche 'who may have closets full of a wide selection of scents, fleshpaints, specialized lip-paints, and so on.'

There's also a trend for doing decorative beauty spots in fancy shapes (flowers, stars, etc) painted onto the skin with something like a very thin tapered stick... or tattooed under the skin with a needle.

Painting your nails is also popular.

.

Hair:

Thurdrixes are hair products that work as dyes or to encourage hair growth (up to several inches a day). These treatments are also expensive, and may not be widely trusted due to being arcane magic. These products usually have long, fanciful sounding names.

Barbers and trained hairdressers aren't much of a thing, though they do exist. Usually you ask a family member to cut it for you, so there's not much call for professionals in the market

Plucking and shaving body hair is a fashion in the Southern hemisphere, but not really present in the rest of Faerûn (so not common in Baldur's Gate outside of places like Little Calimshan).

The fashion for men in the Heartlands is to have facial hair, though no particular style is more popular than others. Illuskans favour long beards, provided that they're not too impractical. Calishite fashion involves oils and perfumes to keep lice out, and a popular fashion in the South is for bare chins and long moustaches and sideburns which may well be seen further north due to trade and migration.

[anneapocalypse]

DAI Companion Styles: Sera

Dragon Age Companion Styles series

The fashion in the Dragon Age universe (in keeping with the overall aesthetics of the games) has undergone an interesting kind of evolution over the course of the three games, various side media, and fourteen real-world years this franchise has been around. And disjointed as some of it may be, it’s something that interests me, both in terms of its real-world influences and in terms of the in-universe implications for worldbuilding and characters. It’s an element for which I would love to see even more discussion and analysis, I thought it would be fun to dive into it by taking a look at the different base outfits companions wear in Inquisition, and talking about how they fit with the characters and the world they inhabit. I don't know how many of these I will end up doing, but I'd like to do some and I think it will be fun.

Disclaimer: I am not a fashion expert, dress historian, or professional designer! I'm just a gamer who likes to sew and has a casual interest in historical fashion, and a great interest in fantasy worldbuilding and the implications thereof, and that's where I'm coming from on these posts. I'd also love to hear thoughts from fans who have a more in-depth background in historical dress, textiles, etc. Also I'm going to be talking about clothing and not armor because I know a lot less about armor.

I’m going to start with Sera, of course, because it's me. ;)

So I've mentioned before that I really like the concept of Sera's outfit. The upper silhouette in particular seems directly drawn from the Fereldan commoner fashions of Dragon Age: Origins, the styles of Sera's youth in Denerim. For example, here's Kaitlyn in Origins, wearing some typical commoner clothing:

Note the plaid, the bare shoulders, the underarm straps (which have always looked incredibly uncomfortable to me)! We see several variations on this style in Origins, including leather vests and even some floral fabrics, but the off-the-shoulder look is nearly ubiquitous on commoner women:

Noble-born women in Origins seem to forego the cold shoulders, but we still see similar shapes in the upper silhouette, including those dang shoulder straps that go under the arms:

The commoner styles of Ferelden in 9:30 Dragon even reappear a decade later in Inquisition! Which doesn’t surprise me much, as trends move a lot more slowly for rural commoners than for wealthy aristocrats.

We even have the weird leather neckerchief thing, a staple of the early 9:30s in Ferelden (and convenient way to hide the neck seams on those character models)! Like the collars in Origins, Sera's does not tie at the back, and a close-up view of hers reveals side seams and presumably a closure of some sort.

So let’s talk about the breeches!

I'm going to call these "breeches" both because it's a word Sera uses and it's what I think they most closely resemble, especially given that they end below the knee but do not extend to the ankle. (Trousers or pants would be full-length.) First of all, it's notable that Sera is wearing breeches because it's a break with the Fereldan silhouettes we saw above, which are pretty universally long straight skirts hitting about mid-calf.

The waist of Sera's breeches is covered by her tunic, but I would guess that they might close with lacing (which can be seen on some of the Inquisitor’s Skyhold outfits) or a buttoned fall (a front panel with buttons on each side, which I think I've seen in some Orlesian noble concept art).

My guess is that Sera's breeches are newer than her tunic, because of the slim cut; they more closely resemble the Orlesian men's fashions of the present in Inquisition than the sort of looser trousers we see in Ferelden circa 9:31 Dragon. Going by the plaid alone I would have called them Fereldan, but based on the cut I have to call these breeches Orlesian, and possibly a more recent acquisition for Sera. While plaideweave does not appear to be currently on trend in Inquisition, Val Royeaux is a center of high fashion and constantly-changing trends among the upper classes and I don't have trouble believing that plaideweave might have been fashionable sometime in the years Sera has lived there.

A detail I love about these breeches is that they are cut on the bias! Synthetic elastic fabrics and machine-knits don't exist in the non-industrialized south of Thedas so far as we know, but woven fabrics have a bit of stretch and give when cut diagonally across the weave, and this would be appropriate for a pair of snug-fitting woven breeches, for someone of means. (They would have been expensive, because diagonally into a bolt of cloth means you need more fabric to start with.) We also see plenty of wrinkles and bunches in Sera's breeches, especially where her knees bend, demonstrating that this isn't a perfectly smooth, skintight fabric like a pair of synthetic leggings.

Notably, Sera's breeches have been patched—and patched skillfully, using the same fabric and with perfect pattern-matching. I think the patching had to have been done by a previous owner; Sera might have the skill (she does mention sewing in her journal), but she likely wouldn't have had access to a matching fabric or the patience or desire to pattern-match. This suggests to me that these breeches were owned by someone of lesser means; a noble would not wear visibly-patched clothing however skillfully done, but based on the bright colors I think this garment could have belonged to a noble at one point, before being cast aside. The servants we see in the Winter Palace wear neutral, muted colors in order to draw little attention, so I don't think this is part of a servant's uniform, but it could have been worn by a servant on their off time or by a member of their family. My guess is that these breeches were a once-fashionable garment, discarded by their high-class owner and taken by someone in their employ (maybe even their own tailor, who might still have access to scraps of the original fabric) to be repaired and reused by themselves or a friend or family member. I judge the large, visible stitching on both the patches and the side seams to have been added later, likely by Sera herself when the original stitching began to give out, further extending the life of this garment.

So, the breeches are great. We love the breeches.

I do have some issues with the tunic, but let's start with what's good about it.

I've already mentioned how it's consistent with Fereldan fashions a decade out of date. Based on the style and the fabric, I would say this garment was originally owned by someone in Ferelden of decent but not extravagant means, and Sera either stole it outright or swiped it from a rubbish heap. The wear on the tunic is consistent with its age: it's much more visibly tattered and falling apart than the breeches. However its construction also appears high-quality to me. If we look at the large tatters, we aren't seeing Sera's skin through them, and at the cuff where Sera has rolled up one sleeve we see the same contrasting fabric as the shoulder straps and trim. This tunic has a lining, and this also explains how it's still holding together on Sera's body with so much damage to its outer layer. The asymmetry at the bottom is jagged in a way that suggests part of it was torn off, rather than the garment being intentionally constructed that way.

My big problem with the tunic is its tightness and drape. This is a woven fabric (Highever Weave), and we can see the directionality of the weave very clearly because of the tatters; this garment was not cut on the bias. Even with the spiral-laced closure (love that they used spiral lacing instead of cross-lacing, by the way, just because it's a form of historical lacing that's often overlooked in media), this garment simply would not hang on Sera's figure the way it does in the game. (To be fair, neither would some of the Origins tunics. I have no idea what those are doing.) The form-fitting cut overall just doesn't make sense for a woven fabric, and it doesn't drape like one either—something that I'm sure has frustrated many a cosplayer trying to make this tunic with a comparable material. Without some stretch in the fabric, it's not happening. Even a moderately looser cut would make a lot more sense—compare with how Varric's tunic of the same weave hangs on him. Bottom line, Sera's tunic fits and drapes like a modern machine-knit, and if I wanted to make a cosplay that actually creates the same silhouette, that's what I'd use. Though personally I'd probably discard the silhouette and try to make something with a woven fabric that simply fits more realistically, and if I were to redesign Sera's base look, this is the one change I'd make.

The shape of the tunic is what really gives away the contemporary influence on Sera's outfit design. Leggings and skinny jeans came into fashion in a big way in the mid-2000s, often paired with a longer drapey top, and they hung on through the mid-2010s when Dragon Age: Inquisition was released, and were an obvious influence on the design of all the female companions as well as the female Inquisitor armor styles. Cold-shoulder tops were also a popular trend in the early 2010s. (I guess Dragon Age: Origins was on the cutting edge there.) Asymmetry and shredded clothing were also 2010s trends.

I also want to take a moment to look at Sera's shoes! Her base outfit includes what appears to be some kind of black slip-on shoe. These shoes are interesting to me because I think that like the breeches, they might be men's shoes. There's a similarity to the shoes in this concept art:

I think this is pretty neat because while the real-world influences on Sera's look can be clearly tied to trends in women's fashion, in-universe her clothing is probably two-thirds menswear. I think that's pretty cool and maybe something to consider with regard to Sera's personal gender presentation as a lesbian in the context of the society she lives in.

I suspect Sera's shoes to be a bit older and out of fashion, since they bear a distinctly rounded toe and the Orlesian high fashion of the moment favors a pointed toe. Like the rest of her clothing, I would guess the shoes to be salvaged or stolen.

So overall, despite a few quibbles, I think Sera's base style is pretty great and very appropriate to her character. Her look is proudly lower-class in a highly-stratified society, visibly Fereldan while living in the Orlesian capital, and gender-non-conforming amidst a highly-gendered aristocratic culture.

It's pretty cool! I like it a lot.

[ribcages-and-bookpages]

7DS: Meliodas x F! goddess! reader

(s/c) skin color , (h/t) hair length, (h/c) hair color , (n/n) nickname

​​​​​​​

You are a female goddess living in the human realm. You were born during the end of the war, and sent to the humans, a village keeping you a secret your entire life. You have stayed out if trouble for years, and have been unable to master your abilities of weapon conjuration and light manipulation. Now, let's catch up to the present, which takes place before the reformation of the Sins, and before the princess goes searching for them. 

You ran as fast as your legs would carry you, the cloak around you , tied around your waist, flapping wildly as it threatened  to come untied; it was the only thing hiding your wings. You stumbled, your leg bleeding, white lace like birthmarks on your (s/c) skin, wrapping around your leg, across your body, to your upper arm, then stopped; the white tainted by blood on your leg. You had been hurt by some villagers who didn't trust you, they didn't like you already, and then when they spotted the bandages you used to cover your birthmarks unwinding, and they spotted the birthmarks, they attacked you. Calling you a demon, and you didn't disagree, as you couldn't tell them what you were. 

Finally, the pain in your leg took over and you stumbled and fell to the ground, using your hands to catch your self. You hadn't noticed you were running near by a tavern, just slightly past the forest. As you turned around, hearing a man shout at you to duck, you did just that and dodged a sword to the face, as a busted sword came into your sight,  knocking the first sword out of view. You covered your face with your hands, but stopped when you heard a calm voice speak to you 

"Hey, you're okay, Ill handle these guys." He says, and you lowered your hands, and noticed a blond boy in front of you. But those eyes..they held wisdom. They held sadness, and yet held a kindness to them. You knew in that moment, you could trust him as a small smile forced it's way onto his face, and you gave a nod. 

Within a few seconds, all the men were on the ground in pain or running away shouting. You shakily tried to stand, and felt your leg give out but before you could drop you felt support under your arm. Looking over, the boy, or..man? He seemed too strong  to be a boy, he had to be a baby faced man; he had put your arm around his neck and was letting you lean on him, supporting your weight as he took you towards the forest

"Don't worry, I have a tavern and I can take care of your wounds there." He tells you, and you nodded hesitantly. Everything in your brain screamed 'run! Run! He could be a bad guy!' but your heart knew. Your heart knew he wasn't a bad guy. You knew he'd protect you if they came back. He was telling the truth about helping you. You knew it. 

As you entered the tavern, a talking pig greeted you, and you simply gave a tiny smile to reassure the piggy you were okay

"Hurry up! Treat her wounds before she bleeds out!" He shouts at the male, who huffed 

"I'm working on it-" he says, moving to help you sit by the bar, then let go of you and smiled, headed up the stairs he soon returned with a box of medical supplies. You were sure he had felt the wings on your back while helping you, but maybe he thought it was something else??? Man, you hoped so. 

He got a wet cloth and a bowl of water and began cleaning the wound on your leg, kneeling on the ground in front of you, while you used your hand to push your dress down to cover you, since it didn't cover you well enough from the angle he was at. You turned your head away in embarrassment, and he simply smiled at you, before looking back to your leg, avoiding looking any where else but your face and leg right now. Now wasn't the time to be a pervert! He could do that later. You gave a small hiss of pain, but not much more sound than that as he cleaned your wounds, put a salve on it, then bandaged it 

" It's deep, but not enough to need stitches. Just be careful for the next few days, and keep it clean." He says, standing up and smiling at you softly. 

"Thank you sir..." You paused, you didn't know your saviors name. He smiled 

"Don't worry about it, I'm just a friendly tavern owner!" He says, rubbing the back of his neck. He was obviously hiding something, but then again so were you, so why push? 

"Well, thank you friendly tavern owner. I am in your debt." You say, softly, eyes flickering away, then back to him 

"Friendly tavern owner, may I stay here for a brief period of time? I was ran out of where I was staying by the villagers, and I do not think I can travel at the moment." You explain, looking at him nervously, But he just smiled 

"I was gonna ask you to anyway."  He says with a shrug

"Thank you, again." You say, tightening your cloak around your self. No one was ever so kind to you. Not since your original village, which you had become frightened would be hunted if you remained, so you left, this was a long, long time ago, so long ago the village name had been changed and you couldn't find the location any more. 

"Are ya hungry?" He asks, putting his hands on his hips, and you responded with a small nod, causing him to grin, and the pig, who had announced him self as Hawk when you arrived, to scoff 

"You're going to make her sick with your crappy food!" 

"I'm sure it's not that bad-" you started, only for the tavern owner to laugh 

"It is that bad. But it always looks good!' he says, and moved behind the bar to begin making you some lunch. You doubted it could really be so horrible, after all, the woman you stayed with as a child couldn't cook to save her life, so you were used to it. 

You pulled your cloak hood down, running a hand through your (h/l) (h/c) hair, properly showing your face. The man seemed to stop for a second, then smiled at you and went back to cooking. Little did you know, you made his heart(s) race. You watched him cook, and once it was finished he served it to you and you took a forkful and blew on it, then took a gentle bite. The texture was off..the taste was bad, but it looked amazing. Okay, maybe he was right. But that didn't stop you from tearing up 

"Thank you. Not only have you saved me, you have given me shelter for the time being and are feeding me. This is the most kindness I've been shown in such a long time... It's wonderful." You say, softly, sniffling. He looked shocked when you cried, but as you explained, he gave a gentle smile

"Don't worry about it. What's your name anyways?"

"(N/n)" you say, wiping a tear as you took another bite of food 

"Well (n/n), you're welcome to travel with me as long as you'd like!" He says, and Hawk gasped 

"We're gonna finally have someone else travel with us?! Yes!" He says, doing happy jumps, and causing a small giggle to come from you. This..could be the start of something amazing

[pomplalamoose]

If you are ever down I would love your take on a Luke with a ND partner, maybe one who isn't expressive or picks up on social cues. says what ever comes to mind. Takes things a little too literally, is blunt in conversations. Like someone who struggles with their tone so people think they're bored or mean when they really have constantly racing thoughts and new ideas and are always open to new relationships.

I'm pretty sure it has never taken me this long to answer an ask before, but I wanted to make sure I'd put the same time and effort into yours as I did with every other one so far. Sadly I never seemed to get the free time to do so until now, so I REALLY want to thank you for your patience, anon, and hope you're happy with the result🩵

Please note though that for requests like these I'm only able to draw from my own experiences which possibly differ from those of others.

Accordingly nothing I said about "you" is meant to impose any kind of insinuations about behavioral patterns on those reading this, nor is it my intention to criticize or sound harsh in any way.

It goes without saying that Luke, as a friend as well as a partner, couldn't be any more wonderful to be around and I believe that especially for someone on the neurodivergent spectrum it's basically a dream come true to date him.

(Apart from that he's definitely that one friend who listens to you when you think nobody else does and waits for you when you need to stop to tie your shoe laces.)

He's empathetic and sensitive to the emotions of those surrounding him and thus would never make you feel like you don't belong, are weird for acting a certain way, or like you'd be better off pretending to be something you're not to "fit in".

And while Luke's connection to the Force certainly adds a lot to the fact that he has no trouble reading you, he would manage to just as well without it.

Still there's no denying how useful his abilities could prove themselves to be in a relationship, especially should his partner struggle with expressing themselves.

I won't go into much more detail though, because many of the things I already talked about in my other posts regarding his understanding and supportive character can be applied here as well.

(e.g. Master Luke Skywalker headcanons, Luke with a partner on their period, Luke x a reader with mental health issues, breaking down in front of Luke)

However I think it'd be really interesting to take a look at his initial reaction to getting to know a neurodivergent person with the behavioral features you described since I believe they differ depending on which Luke era we're talking about.

• ANH Luke wouldn't even bat an eye

• on Tatooine everyone has to put up a rough exterior in order to protect oneself

• it's not a place of friendly conversations and common niceties; people know they're better off minding their business and staying on their own

• you're very blunt and speak your mind?

• you seem unfazed, even bored during most encounters?

• good for you, it's not easy to navigate this corner of the galaxy and much safer to hold others at a distance

• growing up Luke came across a wild array of all kinds of beings too, one more interesting (and really scary) than the other

• he's not put off, instead even used to supposed unfriendliness

• also he doesn't know anything about where you're from and your people, maybe that's just the way they are and how you were raised?

• he probably thinks you're very cool too

• because surely you have seen a lot? Been on great adventures across the galaxy?

• he really wants to do the same

• if you come across as mean without meaning to it's not a big deal, it only makes him want to spend even more time with you

• ("if mean, then why friend-shaped??")

• most importantly ANH Luke judges a person more by their actions than their words, so there is absolutely no need to worry about how he may perceive you

• it's safe to say you're not getting rid of him as it's nearly impossible to shake him off once he decides he wants to be someone's friend

• he's more than delighted once you get to know each other better and it turns out his intuition was right!

• ESB Luke, on the other hand, may be a bit slower to come around

• not necessarily because he dislikes you but because he doesn't have the time nor the patience to put effort into really getting to know you

• people talk and so he probably heard a thing or two that has him eyeing you curiously

• most likely he won't pay you much mind as he's gone most of the time anyways

• generally speaking though, I think you'd get along pretty well, Luke is a friendly and open minded person after all and would surely grow fond of your quirks before even knowing about their source

• still there's a possibility of the two of you butting heads should it come to an actual meeting

• nothing really severe, of course, but still I can see Luke growing easily frustrated at, for example, your lack of expression, or at your questions when you don't quite get something and want to make sure you understood everything correctly

• and while he's not going to show it or tell you outright that he thinks you're a bit annoying, he's not that good at surpressing dramatic sighs or a roll of his eyes

• HOWEVER if you catch him off guard with blunt words said in a tone that could come across as mean it could definitely get a rise out of him

• after all we get to see that he has developed a certain attitude; he's snippy, quick to talk and slightly judgemental

• (mainly towards Han and Yoda but I can see him acting this way quite often because of all that he's being put through)

• I'm sure that under different circumstances Luke wouldn't react as strongly but with how things are during ESB he might hurt your feelings without meaning to

• once the dust settles and he has a quiet moment to himself he'll feel awful though and most likely seek you out to make amends

• naturally RotJ Luke is a different story altogether

• (the character development this man went trough is absolutely crazy, and I'm amazed every time I do comparisons like these)

• before even taking to you for the first time he'd regard you with a warmth and patience you seldom get to experience

• he quietly smiles to himself when he overhears you having a conversation in that special way of yours or when he senses something sparking an idea

• he appreciates your bluntness

• maybe at first you'd think he's laughing at you but don't worry, he just thinks you're cute

• he feels you in the Force, senses your excitement, your curiosity

• it draws him in

• he is able to see you as a whole, not just what you present on the outside, and so isn't deterred by what others would view as a potential attack or criticism

• (take notes ESB Luke)

• once you've grown closer he's always there to point out social clues you might have missed and/or walks you through certain situations to explain how your behavior might have looked to others when it's something you're worried about

• often he knows what you're going to say before you do and, if that's what you want, gives you a sign you agreed upon, letting you know if maybe it'd bet better for you to be silent instead

• (he absolutely explains dumb sexual jokes to you when you don't get them and I don't care how self indulgent this is, I could really use someone to do that for me, thank you very much)

[femperor]

your idea ties female sexuality heavily to modern western consumption and capitalism. what was female sexuality before skirts and lace lingerie were invented? do you think cavewomen stood in front of puddles masturbating to their own reflections? how about uncontacted tribes, if we drop bunch of miniskirts and underwear to them will the tribes women instantly start masturbating to them? is it culturally tied, do you think muslim women masturbate to their hijabs and burkhas? your ideas make no sense unless you admit it is nothing but a male fetish driven by the idea of female objectification

I'll start by posting the text of the post this anon is talking about verbatim, for context.

"Listen. New or questioning trans girl. People will say that wearing a skirt and panties giving you a boner is proof that what you're doing is unnatural. This is untrue. You are experiencing the sense of liking how you look: something most cis people have. You have begun to enjoy your body, something that has been absent for years. Your first kiss ever also will feel/felt that much more powerful. It's a little lame but just enjoy it for now."

My interpretation of my words is that I'm describing a feeling of gender euphoria that's particularly intense because the hypothetical girl I'm addressing has been repressing her identity for a long time up to that point. I even note how said euphoria will be less intense over time and that the boner part will stop happening. To be direct I'm not sure where anon is getting the word "sexuality" out of this. You'd have to associate every erection with arousal (not true) and then all instances of arousal with a sexuality (also not true). It's one of the major issues I take with radfem ideology: it assumes that every word we use to describe ourselves or our experiences has a single, set definition that contains the platonic ideal of whatever that word represents. The english language isn't close to being that perfect.

But less about my ideas and more about anon's. Whatever the right word for that boner-inducing feeling I'm talking about is, is it "tied to modern western consumption and capitalism?" Kind of? What a gender is and styles of presenting as that gender vary wildly from culture to culture and across time. My concept of womanhood is undoubtedly influenced by the women around me, which is limited to where I live and what media I consume. I live somewhere that is both western and capitalist. Does this make every skirt and tube top a propaganda piece? This is one of those topics that 1: Has been extensively covered before 2: A lot of people on tumblr already know where my argument is going.

Congrats to anon if they do exclusively wear homemade clothes with designs exclusive to places outside the U.S. That would honestly be really cool of them.

"What was female sexuality before skirts and lace lingerie were invented?" I'm led to believe corsets were up there. Surprisingly less uncomfortable than they get marketed as if you lace the things properly. That's also a very western answer; let's take a step back. Women around the world have cared about their appearances for at least centuries. Probably more. Looking good as a woman is a thing you can do in every culture that I know of. There is a good point to make about how a lot of the ideals of feminine appearances were dictated and influenced by men. Many of these ideals are regressive tools used to create a sense of power over women. One such example being the ideal of a woman as physically smaller than the man she's trying to impress. Shorter, skinnier, fewer muscles, etc. Anon will be relieved to know that I am personally fighting all three of those stereotypes every day as a woman.

I'm gonna tie the cavewomen and uncontacted tribes notes into one paragraph, since they're both close to being complete non-sequiturs. First off we can't exactly ask either group of women to chip in on the conversation, so putting words in their mouth would feel imposing. For the former, I'd rather bring up that my post is about finding your own body attractive for the first time more than what the clothes are. The clothes act to frame the body, and this re-context helps girls understand that they do look good. Speaking of thinking your body looks good, that's the theory Catherine McCoid came up with for the Venus of Willendorf statue. You know, that limestone lady from nearly 30,000 years ago? I certainly hope the original artist liked how she looked.

Oh, guess that makes a paragraph break. Uncontacted tribes. Again, whatever system of gender that tribe has is going to influence what AFAB members think is hot about themselves. And unlike your next topic, they wouldn't even be influenced by the U.S. definition of women.

I'd really prefer not to discuss the various societal responses to clothing influenced by a religion I'm not a part of with a radfem? I would take longer than this entire post will end up as explaining each angle its been politicized in and frankly I'm not the person to discuss it. Maybe if you didn't pre-assume the worst of whichever unfortunate Muslim blogger you tried asking these questions to one of them would have cared to answer. Not that you deserved an answer from them regardless.

"your ideas make no sense unless you admit it is nothing but a male fetish driven by the idea of female objectification" I like to think of myself as decent for continuing to yell from the other side of this fence. By every metric it would be much safer, smarter, and beneficial to me if I just anon blocked these (an. still very much an option and the one I use most often). I could say a lot here. The radfem fear and hatred of the fetish is one of its own root causes. You want thinks to be sensible. You want words that mean exactly one thing with no weird interpretations or different contexts. The gender critical angle stems is that genders don't serve a purpose outside of establishing hierarchies. But if everybody is in a well-defined box that they can't choose and can't leave, I believe it is way easier to sort those kind of boxes in a way where one is on top of the other. The opt-in, opt-out, zero true definitions idea of gender would in theory make forming a hierarchy out of it impossible. Everybody's in a box they either chose to share or created. The logistics just don't support anything as restrictive as hierarchy.

And look. This one I'm directing to every radfem who winds up reading this much. Sure, be disgusted with the post and/or me. You already were before this. But you engaged with the enemy's ideas. You suffer from the same sense of nobility I do. Clearly we aren't night and day here. So, seeing as we're both women and we have at least one other thing in common, let me ask you a question: You... do like how you look, right? In a non-sexual, aesthetic way? You're wearing clothes you like and no makeup because your face is beautiful without it and spending money to impress men is stupid? I'm fairly certain radical feminism isn't based on the belief that beauty is a pure fabrication created for the exclusive benefit of males. Nobody's smart enough to direct such a broad idea with that much control in everybody's heads; especially not men. If there was a man that smart, we wouldn't have free will under him. The fact that you and I can sit here arguing about if finding panties hot problematic or not is proof that tunneling out of patriarchal thought exists. But you're acting like it's binary. That you either are inside the mindset patriarchy wants us to have, or you're outside on the only other mindset. Finding the best route out for women is going to be a constant process. I disagree with your answer. I disagree with the idea one answer exists. I'm going to be stuck here arguing for my own sake forever, even after I get some sakes. Patriarchy is the system of winning and losing. I don't want a result. I want progress.

[pants-magic-pants]

✧⊹JARETH BALLROOM COAT⊹✧

[This post is part of a series about constructing Jareth's entire masquerade ball costume. Visit the master post here.]

The Nightmare of the Lace [Part 1 of 2]

Welcome back to another long overdue episode of making that damn coat, which it's crazy to think was a year ago, that I was actually doing these things that I'm talking about. This seemed like a good time to round up all of my notes and pictures and diagrams etc. etc. about this, before content from my upcoming event fills my blog haha

There will be two posts about the lace, and in this post there will be two halves. The first half is about creating the pattern pieces, and the other half is about plans vs. reality, and some important things I've learned while attempting these steps.

Alright. Let's get into it, shall we?

First and foremost, I’ve gotta say… the lace was one of the most maddening aspects of this entire costume. I’m sure what made it so was a combination of velvet’s general menace towards any other material, the technique I ended up going with, my order of operations, and general lack of knowledge about the beast I would be pitted against. 

Let’s start happy and optimistic. 

Choosing the lace -------------------------

Photo (c) Yosa Addiss

The lace on his coat is a compromise between looks and durability. It seems like it’s very, eh, mossy and thick, and generally when you see lace like that, it’s either very light and stretchy or thick, stiff and raised. Light and stretchy just plain won't work, if the plan is to embroider or add beads on top of it. The weight of the beads will add up and distort/destroy the delicate pattern, and the stretching will give you no control over the design. On the other hand, thick, stiff, and raised lace uh... could potentially look, well, ugly. This is a matter of opinion, but I was not inclined to go for lace like that because of how stark the difference is in texture and light reflection, which you can see in the original in some photos, and for me it just doesn't look cohesive, and it's blocking out the beautiful metallic velvet instead of harmonizing with it.

Because of my issues finding something that resembled the original's lace without being weak/stretchy, or overpowering, I chose something less mossy, and less raised, but was durable and could withstand being stitched a million times.

The most important takeaway here is this was the kind of thing to either choose in person or at least order a swatch to test on, see if it can handle being worked on top of, and if it complements the fabric underneath it. Designing the piece shapes -------------------------------------- The plan for the lace pieces was to use my pattern for the coat as a guide. You can refer to the above diagrams.

Some areas of the coat are exactly a layer of velvet and a layer of lace, making it pretty straight-forward, but I’ll talk about the largest piece that drapes over the shoulders first. Because this is all one continuous piece, I needed to combine the back and front pattern pieces at the shoulder seam, lay the entire thing out, and then draw on top of it how the lace would fall down the shoulders and back into those characteristic “drips”, skirt past the armpits, and then tuck in around the waist. What resulted was a piece that looks like a lumpy shawl. haha 

There is excess lace past the edge of the shoulders that drapes in a leafy sort of shape, and all of it will house jewels/beads, even the part hanging down the sleeve. Also, the center drip in the back falls lower than the two side drips, passing the pleat seam about 2-3cm. 

Photos (c) Yosa Addiss

The back drips and the front sides only needed to be stitched in place, but the bottom corner in the very front (including the seam where the zipper is) needed a seam allowance, so that it could neatly disappear and be sewn into the coat. There was no seam allowance around the collar – it just stops there, goes straight down, and has its raw edges hidden by the collar and lapels. 

One other thing that isn’t in my diagram: I did not trust the massive shoulder piece to just be draped and stay put, so while tracing off the pattern piece, I marked where the shoulder seam was, and created a folded rectangle of lace to stitch on underneath it. This went into the coat, so I may have peace of mind it wasn’t going nowhere because. You know. THAT LACE ALWAYS HAD A PLACE TO GO. *curls fist*

The other pieces (lapels, cuffs, collar) mostly were just replicas of the velvet pattern pieces. As far as I can see, only the top of the collar has lace. The only pieces that needed some extra designs were the lapels, which I thought should be held in somewhere at some seam, so they had allowances added to the whole top, allowing for a clean look at the marriage of the inner facing and collar. The lower diagonal parts of the lapels were just stretched and stitched at the edges. They also had allowances for the zipper seam of the inner facing, which I ended up just cutting off, because there were too many other slippery things that I was trying to get into that area.

I will discuss decoration and assembly in a second post, but I want to stop right here and spend the rest of this first post talking about...

Plans vs. Reality -----------------------

Originally, I thought it was going to be simple. I’d cut out pieces shaped like the coat pattern pieces, tediously stitch beads on them, add some seam allowances to some parts, sandwich them into the seams, and stitch down any other free-falling parts. 

It would not be simple. It would become the bane of my existence. The actual bead stitching was not the bane. It was tedious, but in no time I had a technique, and a comfy chair, and I would just stitch for hours, watching Better Call Saul. To this day, when I see the beads, nostalgic thoughts of Nacho and the cartel run through my head. 

But… here is what happened: the lace would become subtly warped by the stitching. It made the pieces like 2% smaller than they were originally. Pair this with the fact that from the start, they should have been 2% bigger than the velvet pieces, because as a general rule if you have two pieces that are going to be sewn together (like the front and back of a collar), the one on the outside needs to be ever so slightly bigger because it has to stretch around the other, and in this case, the lace needed to slightly stretch over the velvet. So we can say that by the end of all my bead stitching, the lace pieces were now 4% smaller, and that was enough to completely screw up my ability to line them up with the velvet and sew them together where they needed to be sewn together. 

Also also, velvet is slippery, and has a pile that sends whatever you put on top of it swiftly off. Think of a man stepping out onto some sleek pavement and landing on his tailbone, or… or a conveyer belt…. You ain’t gonna find nothing where you put it. This velvet and lace were like oil and water. Didn’t want to be combined. The lace was constantly fucking far away, houdini’ing itself several millimeters as I worked just to pin it down. It moved while I was basting it. All these things you’re supposed to do, to keep fabric in place, were already failing me. Ultimately, the only thing that worked was to cut out a courser sturdier fabric (for me it was Kona cotton), place it on top of the velvet, place the lace on that, then pin it, then baste it, then sew that, then trim the cotton so that it wouldn’t be seen past the seam allowance. 

And even then, the pieces were too small, and some needed to have lace added to the edges, in a less than neat process, or I had to consent to stopping just short of my original intended seams. This affected a lot of the coat, and because of this and the length velvet takes up just turning around its seams, the coat ended up being slightly smaller than I had planned, slightly shorter, slightly more form-fitting. I still am disappointed about this. It affected how high-rise I needed to make my pants. It affected where I had to place the cummerbund (unnaturally high….) So, yeah.

If I could have done it differently, I would have 1.) adjusted all the lace pieces so they were 2% bigger from the start, 2.) sewn them right away to the velvet pieces, 3.) stitched on the beads through both layers. Then, maybe, things would have worked out better. 

Part two, about lace decoration and assembly is here.

[0rganwe8]

Am I an asshole for being upset at my bf for laughing at me?

My (F20) Boyfriend (M23) and I haven't been together for very long, but even despite that I currently live with him and his family so I can help his family with cleaning and taking care of their multiple pets.

Since it's so close to Halloween, I got really excited and have been talking about wanting to dress up as one of those sexy Scream girls, like on Tiktok and such. He was excited when I told him that I was going to dress up as one of them. After all, he's always said he liked chubby and curvy women, and I'm a curvy woman so I got even more excited!

Yesterday, since I couldn't find a Scream mask anywhere, I ended up buying a little cat masquerade mask just to at least have something for a costume. I tried it on in front of him after I bought it and he just kind of burst out laughing. When I asked him what was so funny, he just kept fumbling his words while laughing his ass off, so I calmly told him that I didn't appreciate being laughed at like that.

All he said was "Sorry, sorry" before going back to watching his anime.

Today, his mom went out of her way to find me a Scream mask and brought it home for me, I was so happy about it because I had kind of gotten a bit more self conscious already due to the day before. She told me to go try on my costume and show the family since they all wanted to see it, so I happily obliged and went back to my and my boyfriend's room to try on the costume in full.

The costume itself is a white blouse underneath bodycon black dress with lace and ruffles over the stomach (the bodycon dress is made for plus size people like myself). I figured the dress was too short to be appropriate so I ended up putting on a dark cool-gray skirt over the bottom half, and it looked adorable in my own opinion as I put on the mask. All of the clothes are in my size (I'm a size L, and I the clothes were all L to XL)

That's when my BF walked into the room and just looked at me for a moment while holding my phone. I think he was trying to show me a message I'd gotten, but I'm not entirely sure, but after a few seconds, he started openly laughing at me again.

Not like a friendly little flirty chuckle, but we're talking a FULL BELLY LAUGH. This man found something about me in my costume genuinely hilarious, and when I asked him what was so funny again, he just responded with:

"What are you trying to do? Cosplay a goth sausage by fitting into it?"

I immediately just went quiet and let him leave the room without saying anything, and I very quickly took the costume off and changed back into my normal clothes. He was still laughing as he went back to the living room.

Here's where I might be the AH. I went back out to the living room to retrieve my laptop and earbuds from the couch, and I told him, VERY CALMLY, that I did not appreciate being laughed at and that I wouldn't be going anywhere with him on Halloween as I no longer felt comfortable.

My BF got really upset at that and just threw his hands up, huffing and puffing while saying "FINE! FORGET IT!" Now, he's sitting out there and messaging my discord server with vague posts about how he's utterly useless and how he's been proven time and time again to be a failure. I never called him any of these things, nor did I even imply that.

AITA For getting upset when my BF laughed at me? Be honest, I'd rather know the truth so I can mend this situation.

[dreamerdoesthewritething]

[Let’s keep chugging. Part 5 of the (afab) Childhood Best Friend Reader x (RE2R) Leon story. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4]

Following the incident at Sunday dinner, your parents reached out to you and Leon to apologize for what Henrietta had put you through, as well as for being so stubborn about the government secret thing. They were easily forgiven. How could they have known what horrible plan of attack she would've used against Leon? They admitted they thought she would be her normal level of judgmental and never expected her to bring up Raccoon City or any possible relationship between the two of you. Lesson learned. Henrietta was banned from ever returning to Sunday dinner until she gave Leon and thorough and proper apology. So she was gone for good.

Leon continued his training. Sometimes communication with his was limited because he would be forced away on missions in other countries. This worried you, but he always contacted you as soon as he was able, whether by phone or just showing up at your door. He rarely returned to you without scrapes and injuries, sometimes looking like he should be dead but he absolutely wasn't. Those times you tended to baby him a little. He didn't seem to mind at all. Maybe that's why he kept showing up like that. You never had the heart to ask, afraid if you did he'd stop coming around for it. You liked doing it as much as he liked to experience it.

Before you knew it, a year had passed since the destruction of Raccoon City. The nation mourned the massive losses. Many places closed in honor of the fallen. Flags flown at half-mast. Justice against Umbrella, the pharmaceutical company that the government was finally ready to admit was responsible for the entire thing, was being served. Slowly but surely, like all "good" things. Raccoon City and Umbrella was all the news would cover today.

You went over to Leon's place to try to distract him, if he was even there. He might still be on base training, or away on a mission, or just out of the house. You'd find out when you got there.

Well, he was home...

He answered the door without showing himself, purposely remaining hidden behind the door. It was ajar, yet he was being cautious. Why didn't he want you to see him? Surely he wasn't that--

"Now's not a great time, sweetheart," he said, voice croaking and words kind of slurred.

"Leon," you said. You tried to keep the pity out of your voice, but you weren't as successful as you would've liked.

"I'm fine."

"Can I...come in, please?"

Only silence followed your question. You pressed your hand against the door, pushing gently, just to discover he was no longer behind it. He'd gone back into the living room, leaving the decision in your hands. Taking a deep breath, you went inside, closing the door behind you.

Leon sat on the floor in front of his couch, wearing only his boxers and socks. Bottles and cans of beers were all over the floor. Disheveled hair, dark bags under his eyes, redness in his cheeks... God, you should've been here earlier. He's been so, so cruel to himself, drinking for who knows how long, trying to cope. Trying to take it all on by himself, as usual.

You didn't hesitate to join him on the floor, knocking aside the trash in the way, though you did keep your distance just to be safe. He had an open yet still full in one hand while the other grabbed at his bangs.

"Didn't want you...to--"

"I know," you said, putting your hand out on the floor in invitation. "But hey, you've been there for me at my worst. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't do the same?"

"I don't...wanna talk."

"You don't have to. Not even a little."

His one hand fell from his head to grip yours, lacing the fingers between yours. Shaking. It'd been a long time since you felt him tremble like this. He squeezed tight to the point it hurt, but you could tell he was holding back, that he could and wanted to squeeze harder yet didn't want to hurt you any more than he already was. He kept his face away from your view, turning away to chug his beer.

Time alternated between crawling and speeding by. You continued to hold Leon's hand. He continued to squeeze yours. Neither spoke. At least he stopped drinking once that bottle he had was empty. Truth was he wanted stronger stuff, but that would require standing and moving, which he wasn't sure he could do right now without stumbling or outright falling. He wasn't going to ask you. He didn't want to hear the judgment or pity in your voice, not again.

Normally you'd discourage his alcoholic tendencies, but not today. Not on the anniversary of one of the worst days of his life. It was time to be an enabler. You briefly released Leon to hunt in the kitchen for what you knew Leon needed. Yes, it was a need. You also located two shot glasses, because if he was going to continue to bruise the ever-loving shit out of your hand, you at least wanted something to help numb the pain.

As you're taking the bottle of hard liquor with the highest alcohol content off of a shelf in his kitchen, a weight falls against your side. Leon nestled himself against you, though it's less out of affection and more because he's nearly collapsed. He asked in a whisper if this "party" can happen at your place. You read between the lines. He was going to say things he didn't want to risk them hearing. The government bastards who bugged his home to listen in on him and ensure he didn't do or say anything out of line. You didn't say any of this out loud, simply assuring him it was okay for you to take him home with you. You then set the liquor on the counter and helped him to his room so he could put some clothes on before heading out.

The drive back to your house didn't take long. The two of you took seats at your dining room table, a shot glass in front of each of you and the liquor bottle in between. You're holding one of his hands again, which he had resumed squeezing. After downing a handful of shots, Leon's face hit the tabletop, turning so he rested on his cheek but his hair obscured his eyes.

Then came the unfiltered revelations.

He told you so many things he never shared before about what he saw in Raccoon City. Zombies and monsters, bio-weapons created by man-made viruses out of human greed. People fighting over ownership of the viruses, hoping to make a quick buck by supplying it to whoever was willing to pay the most. Betrayal by one of those people, a woman in red who posed as an FBI agent. Everything he knew going into Raccoon City was a lie. Everyone he knew in the city before his arrival was dead.

The number of survivors he knew could easily be counted on two hands. Himself, Sherry Birkin, and Claire Redfield are the ones he was personally familiar with. Later, he learned of the survival of former S.T.A.R.S. member Jill Valentine, an Umbrella-hired mercenary named Carlos Oliveira, someone that worked for Umbrella who got a sample of the G-Virus out of the city and whoever helped him escape. The woman, Ada...That probably wasn't her real name...He wasn't sure if she actually managed to live, somehow. By all accounts, he saw her fall from that crumbling bridge, even wept over her...but he couldn't shake the feeling she was alive.

You could tell from the way he talked about this Ada how he felt about her, and in an instant your heart was hurting. Stomach upset. Despite manipulating, using, and lying to Leon, this woman won your best friend's heart. She didn't deserve it. A small part of you hoped she actually died. A larger part was consumed with guilt for wishing for such a thing, something that clearly caused Leon a lot of pain.

He told you about what happened with Claire, Sherry, and himself after they escaped Raccoon City, which was a few hours before the government nuked it. Claire, encouraged by Leon, went off to find her brother Chris, who was the reason she was in Raccoon City in the first place. Leon and Sherry were found and taken into custody by the military. They discovered Sherry had been infected by the G-Virus (and somewhat cured) and threatened her life if Leon didn't agree to work for them. He had suffered a gunshot wound protecting Ada that needed treatment as well, treatment they refused to give him. Knowing they could just kill him and experiment on Sherry without him around, he had little choice but to agree. That's how a simple rookie police officer was forced to become a government agent.

You were the first person he told about Claire and Ada, with the sole exception of Chris when Claire was in trouble and reached out to Leon for help. He kept their existence to himself for their safety, even if he wasn't sure if Ada still lived. He trusted you enough to spill the beans, though it took getting drunk for him to do so. You weren't sure how to feel about that.

After hours of drinking the hard stuff, you decided it was time for the two of you to get some water in your bodies. No doubt you'd be suffering from hangovers no matter what at this point, but you had to try to fight it. You closed the mostly empty liquor bottle, pushing it away before stumbling off towards the kitchen. Leon took this moment to drag himself to the toilet, definitely needing to relieve himself after all the booze he'd pushed into his system.

You brought water to the table and went to relieve yourself as well, grateful for having two bathrooms for moments just like this.

When you came back, Leon moved to take your hand again, freezing just before his fingers could touch yours. His eyes were locked onto the skin that was starting to bruise.

"I hurt you," he said in a whisper, incredulous.

"Not on purpose," you said, trying to hide your hand in a futile attempt to draw his attention away from it. He snatched you around the wrist before you could, still staring intently at your wound. "Leon, it's okay. I don't even--"

Without warning, Leon raised your hand and pressed his lips against your hurt skin. The gentle kiss rendered you speechless. You were grateful his eyes had closed upon the action. He wouldn't see how red your cheeks had become, which couldn't be fully explained by being drunk. He gave your hand a few more kisses before dropping it away from his mouth.

"I'm sorry," he said as his thumb traced soft circles on the back of your hand, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

"Leon, I already--"

"It's not okay, even if I held back," he interjected. "I love you. I never...I never want to hurt you. Not again."

You didn't really register that "I love you," assuming he meant it platonically. And even if he didn't, he was drunk. It couldn't be trusted to mean anything else.

"You're too hard on yourself, Leon."

His hands were suddenly on either side of your head, forcing you to hold his gaze. His breath reeked of booze as it tickled your face. He looked at you through half-lidded eyes. Lips parted. His breathing became somewhat labored.

"You do know...that I mean it, don't you? You know I love you, right, sweetheart?"

If he wasn't holding you in place, you'd simply nod. "Y-Yeah, of course I do. Like a brother and a friend."

He laughed, an inappropriate grin breaking out across his lips. "You still think that? After all these years...How can someone so smart be so...so clueless?"

Ignoring your racing heart, you tried to pull yourself away. "Leon, you're drunk. Maybe you should lie down--"

"No...No-no-no-no, if I don't say this now I'll be too chickenshit later. Jus-Just listen to me, sweet stuff. Listen."

He went silent. For a moment, you were afraid he'd fallen asleep like this, somehow.

Then he said, "You have always been...so good to me. I haven't always...I haven't always deserved it. And I can't help it, love. I can't. I love you. I think I've loved you for a long...long time. And I know...you love me. You try to hide it, but fuck, babe...You're terrible at it. Even that fucking bitch Henny could see how you feel. I-I-I wanted to wait for you to admit it...but goddamn, you're taking forever. What are you--What are you 'fraid of? Since when have you been so shy?"

Oh god.

Was this really happening?!

"Leon, I..."

When you couldn't complete your thought, Leon decided to do it for you, doing something you've imagined a million times before. This wasn't exactly as you pictured it, but that it was happening at all was a miracle. He closed the distance between you, smashing his lips against yours with an intense hunger you never would've expected from him. You melted immediately, and he honestly could've done anything to you in this moment without you fighting back. Fortunately, all he wanted to do was kiss you, prodding your lips with his tongue until you opened up and let him inside. He kept kissing you until you both needed to breathe, and even then he had to force himself away.

"I've wanted to do that for so fucking long," he huffed as the two of you gasped for air, forehead resting against yours.

It was a mutual feeling, but you were more breathless than he was. After all, that was the first time you'd ever been kissed by anyone, not just the first time you were kissed by Leon. He knew that, didn't he? Somewhere, deep down in the parts of his brain that weren't firing on all cylinders right now, he knew this. You'd remained single all your life, never once went on a date, and sometimes you thought you'd die a lonely virgin. That belief was shaken by this wild turn of events, and that was a huge understatement.

"God, I just wanna keep kissing you," he breathed.

You wanted that, too.

"But I shouldn't...I might get carried away," he said with reluctance. His lips turned down into a scowl as his head tilted, turning his gaze to the floor. "This shouldn't be...This shouldn't be how it happens. Us drunk be...because of me. I want to...I want to make sure I can remember it...That you actually want it, too. You can't say no to me. It's...hard enough for you when you're sober."

Damn. He didn't have to call you out like that.

"Wait for me, sweetheart. W-Wait..."

You've been waiting this long, anyway. In truth, you'd probably wait forever, even if he didn't ask.

He quickly pulled away from you, covering his mouth with one of his hands as he struggled to his feet. All the drinking was catching up to him. You watched him rush off towards the bathroom. A horrible retching sound soon followed. You covered your ears so you wouldn't have to listen to it any more. Guilt began welling up inside you. If you were really a good friend to Leon, you never would've encouraged him to get as drunk as he had. Shame on you.

You didn't know how much time passed between him rushing off to the toilet and his eventual return, but he just looked so shitty coming back that you all but sobered up right then and there. The caretaker in you took over, putting one of his arms around your shoulders and helping him towards the guest bedroom. Some of the clothes you bought for him when he was staying with you were still in there. You helped him change into something more comfortable for sleeping. His pillows were propped up to keep him from lying flat on his back. He fell into the mattress without resistance.

"Sorry," he slurred as you pulled the covers up over him.

Words once again failed you. You simply stroked his face, reassuring him. It was with the hand he accidentally bruised, however, and he reached out to take you by the wrist again. He pressed his lips to your knuckles. You were thankful he had cleaned himself up after kneeling in front of the porcelain throne.

"Love you so much, sweetheart," he mumbled.

And just like that, he was out. His grip on you went slack. You reluctantly pulled away, letting his hand fall against his chest. You stood and stared for a few minutes. The smile you wore while taking care of him faded as you turned to head towards your bed.

Come morning, you were certain he wouldn't remember any of this. It was all just because he was drunk, lonely, and hurting on the anniversary of one of the worst acts of terrorism in recent American history. If not for what became of Raccoon City, he'd have never kissed you or said he loved you. He didn't mean it. He didn't have the same sparkle in his eye that he had when talking about that Ada woman. His body language didn't agree with his mouth. You didn't really believe any of it.

Why would he lie to you?

You sighed. It didn't matter. You would never hold it against him. You cared too much to ever do such a thing to your best friend.

With any luck, you'd forget this night, too.

But when were you ever that lucky?