#it would be for the better of everyone if people just put more time and effort into what they loved vs hating on something

[sometipsygnostalgic]

I mean, yes, this is all correct, but voter disenfranchisement in the US has been extremely targeted over the last five years. It may not flip the election on its head, but it is worth thinking about how difficult it has become for voters in eastern blocs.

For example Virginia voters were told that if they didn't register by October they wouldn't be allowed to vote, and I know several people who didn't even bother because they didn't learn about this requirement until after the deadline had passed. Whether it's true or not, the more obstacles you put in the way of voters, the more likely you are to get flakers.

But... the ultimate cause of the election result seems to be that uneducated and business-oriented americans believed that Trump would have the better outcome for them. And that's over half of Americans. For whatever reason, the people most determined to vote grouped themselves in with Trump and not Kamala. And this is across most demographics - it's not just white men who voted Trump. It's white women, it's black men. It's lots of people and Trump won the popular vote, the first time a Republican has done so in quite some time.

I don't think any Democrat politicians have accused the Republicans of rigging the vote, even in areas where republican policies have affected the vote, they would not do so for two reasons. One - all parties benefit from gerrymandering. And two - they know they need to win back that Republican base somehow and claiming Trump is some kind of fraud has not helped them in the slightest.

Where I think the democrat campaign shat itself is when it turned back into those tried-and-failed attempts to say Trump would be bad for America, instead of showing why Kamala would be good for the country. We had this entire song and dance in 2016 with Hillary and it did not work. Everyone knows what Trump is like and apparently that's not a big enough turn off, they like his anti-establishment nature enough to keep voting him back in. As long as the Democrats continue to represent the establishment, they will keep failing, at least until people temporarily get tired of Republican chaos.

The most likely outcome is... Republican president>republican houses>democrat houses>Democrat president>democrat houses>republican houses>Republican president... People will vote whatever is the opposite of the current president over and over and over, for as long as it takes to change the establishment.

If your democrat friends start muttering about stolen election conspiracy theories, the time to have a sit down with them and express your concerns is NOW, while you still have a chance to reach them, not 6 months from now when they're fully conspiracy-pilled.

Here's some of the talking points and why they're bullshit:

'10 million votes don't just disappear!' -> Joe Biden's 81 million votes were a statistical outlier, sparked by the recent experience of the Trump presidency. The democrats failed to maintain that sense of urgency, but Harris still got more votes than Hillary Clinton, more than Obama and more than any previous democratic candidate. These numbers are not weird at all.

'The Republicans tried to infiltrate election- and vote counting organizations!' -> yeah, they did, and yet hundreds of independent legal observers didn't see anything go wrong enough to raise any alarms. Independent exit polls are also very consistently similar to the counted votes. Tons of international organizations specialized in this stuff observed the election and didn't see a reason to raise the alarm.

'But I know a dozen democrats whose mail-in votes were not counted!' -> In any election a certain number of votes are registered as invalid because something was wrong with the ballot. In a country the size of the US, that translates to many thousands of votes. The internet allows these people to find each other, creating the false impression that a suspiciously large group of voted was not valid.

'Musk used Star Link to mess with electronic voting!' -> Electronic voting machines are not connected to the internet and dozens of independent media have already debunked this myth. It is absolutely impossible to use Star Link to fake election results.

'There is voter disenfranchisement!' -> This is true. This has always been true, for every election. It's an issue worth talking about but it's not a special secret conspiracy that's unique to this election.

But just as importantly as the facts: sit down with your friend and talk about the anxiety that's behind their conspiracy leanings. Acknowledge their pain and fear. Help them find ways to feel less powerless and regain their sense of agency. Take them to a mutual aid event, involve them in a fundraising event for a marginalized group, invite them to a local community effort. If they spend more time feeling connection and empowerment and less time doom scrolling online, they're far more likely to stay in reality.

[torturedlexdepartment]

Roadside Confessions

Rafe Cameron x fem reader

Author's note: super old fic but it's sweet..hope yall enjoy

Warnings: SMUT, possessive/jealous Rafe, protected car sex 🫠

Summary: your best friend Rafe steps in when a random guy tries to hit on you at a party

Rafe watched from across the room as the unworthy touron tried to make a move on you. He was trying so hard to be unaffected, however when he saw the look of discomfort on your face he lost all the restraint he had. He quickly made his way through a sea of people to get to you. You didn’t even notice Rafe until he put himself in between you and this guy.

“Get lost bud.” Rafe spits out.

“Excuse me? What’s your deal man?”

“The problem is that you’re flirting with my fucking girlfriend.” Your eyes went wide with the lie.

“Rafe.” You tried to protest and cut in but he gently pushed you back behind him.

“Woah woah man. Your girlfriend was the one acting like a slut and flirting with me.”

“You’d better watch your fucking mouth.” Rafe warned as he got right up in his face.

“Cut it out Rafe, just take me home okay.” You forced him to look at you and as soon as he saw how upset you were, he snapped out of his rage. He quickly grabbed your hand and led you outside to his truck.

The first part of your ride was silent as you stared out the window. Rafe looked over at you several times, pondering what to say. The last thing he wanted was to make you upset but his pent up feelings for you were slowly starting to bleed over your friendship.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay. That guy was an asshole.”

“And you don’t think I could handle it myself? I was doing just fine before you made a huge scene in front of everyone.” You spat.

“I could tell you were uncomfortable Y/N, I was just trying to help.”

“Yeah, well you’re not my fucking dad. I don’t know why you’ve been acting like this lately.” He growled at your words and immediately pulled his truck over onto the side of the road.

“Because you’ve been out here acting like you’re desperate for attention and I don’t want you to get hurt.” He nearly screamed at you from his place in the driver’s seat.

“You’re a douche!.” You shout at him as you attempt to exit his truck. He quickly grabs you by your arm, forcing your attention back to him. “Rafe-” You're cut off by his lips being roughly pressed to yours. You pull back quickly, completely taken by surprise. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Come on Y/N, do I really have to spell it out for you?” You sat there dumbfounded and silent for what seemed like forever. You looked at Rafe and then down at yourself. You never really saw yourself as someone he would want in that way.

“You could have any girl you wanted, Rafe, why would you bother with someone like me?”

“I don’t want any girl Y/N, I want you. Since we were kids.” You whip your head in his direction as the words leave his mouth, in utter disbelief.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I don’t know. I should have. I thought I could keep it in but seeing that guy throwing himself at you set me off. I’m sorry.” He answers as he reaches for your hand.

You’re so overcome with emotion that you don’t stop to think before you’re climbing over the center console and straddling his lap, crashing your lips into his. He tries to speak but you kiss him and lean into him harder. His hand slides down the seat to push the seat back, giving you both more room to move.

You run your hands through his hair as his hand slips underneath the back of your shirt. Every little touch has your body wanting to erupt like fireworks. You never realized that you wanted him this bad, in this way. He moans into your mouth when you slip your tongue past his lips and it sets you off. Your hands go straight for his belt but he’s quick to pull away and stop you.

“Rafe.” You plead.

“Not here. Not like this.” He says softly but you aren’t having it. You roll your hips over him and the noise that falls from his lips only fuels you further.

“I thought you’ve wanted me your whole life? Are you really gonna tell me no right now?” You tease as you keep up your seductive movements. A low groan leaves his lips before he grabs you by the back of your neck, pulling you back into him as your lips fuse together again.

Your hands go back to his belt but this time he doesn’t stop you as you work to free him from his pants. You push your dripping panties to the side before helping him align himself with your entrance. He slips into you with ease and you both let out relieved whines of pleasure.

“Jesus Y/N!.” He growls as he fills you completely.

“You’re massive.” You breathlessly moan and he smirks before placing his hands on your hips to help you steady yourself. You lean down, taking his bottom lip in between your teeth biting gently as he starts pulling you down on him hard. You feel every ridge and vein of his cock as he perfectly caresses the inside of you.

You completely forget that you’re on the side of the road where anyone could see you. All you can think about is the fact that you’re fucking your best friend and how amazing he feels as you ride him. Your hand trails down your skirt to rub your clit and it’s mere seconds before your orgasm washes over you.

“So fucking beautiful.” Rafe growls as he keeps fucking up into you. He places tender kisses on the side of your neck as you come down. You can tell he’s trying hard not to dig his fingernails into your skin as he grows closer. “Shit, can I-“ he rasps but you cut him off.

“Yes, I’m on the pill.” You work to meet his thrusts, tugging at his hair as you feel him twitch. He releases inside of you with a groan and falls back against the seat, completely out of breath.

“Shit, I think I love you.” He pants and you smile.

“You think?” You tease as you lean in for a gentle kiss.

“Okay maybe I know.” He chuckles as you both work to right yourselves. As you make your way back over to the passenger seat you can feel his cum dripping down your leg and you smirk to yourself.

“Maybe I know too.” You whisper but you’re pretty sure he catches it as he smiles while pulling back onto the road.

[ifonlyyuweremine]

Captain’s Girl [Part II]

John Price x Reader (Call of Duty)

Synopsis: Mixed tension combined with a failed mission leads to a heated kiss between you and the Captain. But what happens when kissing turns into something more? And will a new mission back in Urzikstan be the catalyst to bring you together or tear you and your captain apart?

Tags: Enemies to lovers, SMUT, guys I'm not joking I went crazy with the smut, military romance, secret feelings, pining, idiots in love, fighting, secret relationships, consequences, LONG.

Word count? Do you even need to ask?

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

The helicopter ride back was abysmal, a whole 3 hours spent in absolute silence. You'd spent the majority of the time staring at your fraying shoelace. The subtle rocking of the aircraft kept you awake while everyone else slept off the rough morning (and the hangover). It turns out that drinking the night before being dispatched wasn't the best idea. Shocking.

It didn't help that your mind was still hung up on the kiss between you and Price. Also shocking.

In the past 24 hours, you discovered that there was a widespread rumor that you and your captain had been sleeping together. Everyone on base had started calling you the Captain’s Girl. And that Price didn't apparently hate you and thought that planting one on you was the best way to prove that.

Why he kissed you was an entirely new can of worms you didn't have the stomach to open right now.

Now, did you kiss him back? Yes. Why? You didn't know the fuck why. There were several possible answers to this dilemma, answer one, it was the heat of the moment. Answer two, it just felt right to do so, it's rude to leave a guy hanging. Answer three, you were just too shit-faced to think critically about it. You were leaning toward the last one.

The worst part of the whole situation, (besides the fact that you may have given those rumors a tiny bit of validity) was that Price was a phenomenal kisser. You remembered it in excruciating detail. And unlucky for you it might have been one of the best kisses you'd ever had.

A small part of you wondered if he enjoyed it too, but given his face when you separated. All flushed and surprised, his eyes wide with horror and his breath heavy… yeah maybe it was best not to dwell on your kissing abilities.

It was a small blessing that Gaz had been the one to almost catch you in the act. He loved to tease but he wasn't an asshole, your and Price's secret was most likely in good hands. Heaven forbid it was Ghost or Soap because you would've had half a mind to jump out of the helicopter without a second thought. The thought was still tempting though.

You glanced up at Price, his head tilted back and his eyes shut. He wasn't faring much better than you were. He had heavy bags under his eyes and the line between his brows was far more defined than usual. Somehow he still looked good. In a very professional way, of course. Not in a ‘we made out last night, and thinking about it turns me on,’ kind of way.

Eventually, you would have to interact with him professionally again. When his foot healed it would be back to regularly scheduled training.

Best case scenario, they'd put you all on leave and you could have a week or two surrounding yourself with other men to clear your head. You'd never really been one for an extended vacation, but exceptions could be made. Plus, going back to base meant going back to a whole bunch of people who thought you were bangin’ the boss.

You grimaced, vacationing in hell might have been better. On second thought, you'd take the checkpoint base any day. Home base could go fuck itself, at least it was hot and sunny back in Urzikstan. You heard someone chuckle and looked up to see Ghost looking at you.

“Ya’ look like you swallowed a lemon.” He said enthused. You made a sound that crossed between a sigh and a grunt.

“Just preparing myself for landing,” You breathed as the helicopter wobbled. The aircraft began to descend in a linear motion, making your stomach sink a little.

“Home sweet home.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

One week and three days, you had been back at base for almost two weeks without speaking a single word to Price. Maybe if you kept this up you could spend your last 8 months with 141 in peace.

Your days now had been mostly consisting of training (supervised by Ghost instead of Price), mindless tasks, eating in the commons, watching movies in the break room, and naps. It was kind of perfect, this was probably the most relaxed you'd ever been while at base. And nobody bothered to tease you over Price since he was rarely around. When he did make an appearance he didn't speak a word to you, which was somewhat nice.

A part of you wished for some explanation for the night of the kiss, but maybe ignorance was bliss. Whatever the reason, it was all behind you. You could totally remain professional when he comes back from recovery. Totally.

Gaz tried to talk to you about that night once, to which you immediately shut him down. Though, you knew he saw through you, and Price too, it was probably easier reading Price than you at this point. It was odd for Price to seclude himself away, even odder that he wasn't on speaking terms with you conveniently after the night that you tracked him down and blew up at him for starting a rumor that he most definitely did not create. Ghost had caught onto the odd tension between you two almost as fast as Gaz did.

Jhonny well… he was still in his own world, the man was smart sure, but he was a bit of a dunce when it came to reading other people's emotions. On the bright side that made him the perfect buddy to be around because he wasn't analyzing every interaction you had. You were grateful for him in his own way.

You were walking down one of the hallways after a bit of a loose end. Having nothing to do after training was a pain sometimes, you had an hour or two until dinner, and the base gym was at its busiest. And you didn't feel like you were in the mood to wait twenty minutes in a sweaty gym for a turn on the leg press machine. So, you opted for wandering around like a lost spirit in search of something to do instead.

Just as you turned a corner you collided with what felt like another wall. Your eyes met a 4x4 truck with a skull mask. Ghost.

“Easy, aren't sharpshooters supposed to be vigilant? Or are you the only exception?” His voice reverberated off your eardrums like a low-pitch bass. You rolled your eyes but let out an amused breath of air. To give the big guy some credit his name fits him perfectly, you didn't know how someone who was built like a standard Lego brick could be so stealthy. He could fit into any dark corner and nobody would be the wiser.

“Just you Ghost, you seem to be the only entity that evades me.” That seemed to pull a junction of his lips up because the corners of his eyes slightly crinkled. He held a small file filled with a few articles of paper tucked away into its folds.

Ghost crossed his arms, “What ya’ doin’? Have you taken up wandering hallways as a hobby now?”

You grimaced, “Gym was all full, didn't want to bother.” You said plainly, earning a nod from the bigger man.

“So… suppose that means you're free for time?” There was a slight smugness to his tone as he held the file up to you. Your gaze dropped from him to the file, he didn't phrase it like an order but you knew it was. You sighed and took the file from his hand. “Fine. Who do I have to track down to give this to?”

He shifted on one foot, “Price. You know where his office is.” You tried not to let your mouth fall open, this bastard.

You shook your head and tried to thrust the papers back into his chest, “What? No, I'm not giving these to Price. Can't you find someone else?”

Ghost stepped back and shook his head, raising his hands up in surrender. “Nope, s’outta my hands now. It’s one file, just knock on his door and drop it on his desk, easy.” You shot him a spiteful glare, there was probably an evil grin under that stupid mask.

You squeezed the file in your hands tighter, feeling the paper wrinkle in your vice grip. “Bastard.” You grimaced, turning on your heel towards the direction of Price's office. You heard him chuckle over your shoulder, “Good soldier.” He called after you, the shit-eating grin practically spotlighted through his tone.

Trudging through the familiar hallways toward Price's office was like walking through a dead-end alleyway. The further you got, the more signs you saw telling you to turn back. Sure you saw him after the night of the kiss, but you weren't being forced to talk to him or even acknowledge he was there. This was different, you would be alone with him. Alone in his office. Even if it was for a split second that you were in his presence the knowledge still made your skin pebble with goosebumps.

Before you knew it, you were facing the dreaded door of his office. The sight of the familiar plaque of his name gives you an almost Deja Vu feeling. The last time you were here things didn't go over too well, not that things ever really went great when the two of you came in contact.

You drew in a breath, just get this over with and you could be done. Maybe go take a shower or something, just go anywhere that was a good distance away from here. Your fist met the hardwood of the door, giving it a hearty few knocks. After a beat, his muffled voice reached your ears, “Come in.”

Pushing open the door you were greeted with the sight of Price. Doing pushups in the corner of his office. Okay, I guess. You were a little dumbfounded, usually one uses an office for things like paperwork or meetings. Not a personal gym. “I thought the point of recovering was that you're supposed to be resting.” You deadpanned. The file in your hands long forgotten.

His head immediately snapped up at the sound of your voice, pools of blue staring right into you like you'd walked in naked. Price halted mid-pushup, “[Name].” He breathed, obviously caught a little off guard by your appearance.

“Unfortunately,” You said back, watching as he got up and brushed himself off. The cotton of his shirt stretched over the expanse of his biceps and chest. Your eyes shot back to his face, a little guilty. Price cleared his throat, “They won't let me train in the gym yet. So, I have to improvise.”

You blinked at him, “Base doctor must love you.” You said sarcastically, glancing down at his foot. “How's your foot?” You asked politely, filling the awkward silence.

Price looked down at his wrapped foot, shrugging. “It's better. Don't need the crutch anymore.” He said plainly. You responded with a nod and an ‘ah,’ creating an even longer awkward silence. The two of you stood there for another beat, just looking at each other. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to run to him or run away from him. Just then you remembered the whole reason why you were here.

“Oh- uh, I have this for you-“ You held out the manilla file for him to take, “Ghost told me to bring it up here.” Price's eyes darted from the folder and then back to you, he hesitantly walked closer and took the file. His fingers brushed yours and you swear an electric current shot through your spine. His fingers were warm and rough, transporting you back to when his hands were in your hair, holding your face, cupping the back of your neck.

You swallowed, it felt like your heartbeat was in your head. “Thank you.” He said, pulling back his hand and the papers with it.

It was like someone had knocked the wind out of you, you were frozen. “…Right, I'll go then.” You said, taking a step back from him as he put the file on top of his desk.

“[Name]. Hold on, please.” His voice stopped you in your tracks, making you rotate a little to face him completely. His voice didn't sound angry, but it was firm. “Everything alright?” You chewed on the inside of your cheek, watching as he faced you. Leaning against his desk with his arms crossed.

His adams apple bobbed up and down, lifting a hand to rub his mutton chops. “Yeah…I just wanted to clear up something with you.” His voice was careful, the pauses and hesitance filling you with dread. Shit. He wanted to talk about the kiss, which you most definitely did not want to talk about. A part of you was dying inside but you nodded, “Yeah, what's up?” You said through clenched teeth.

“About what happened the night before the team left Urzikstan, I just wanted to… apologize. It was unprofessional of me especially considering the circumstances.” You stood statue still, well this was a first. He was apologizing to you. Price continued, “It was a moment of weakness and emotions were running high and frankly I didn't know how else to show you I didn't hate you. I give you my word that it will never happen again.”

A moment of weakness? What the hell was that even supposed to mean? It was nice to hear an apology come from him but to be honest, you weren't sure if you were happy about the fact he was sorry. Maybe that meant he didn't enjoy it, but it certainly didn't seem like it when his tongue was down your throat. Well, if you were already on the subject mind as well ask.

“Did you hate it?” You asked, Price looked at you for a moment. His face was puzzled like it was the last thing he had expected to come out of your mouth. “What?” He asked, his voice thick behind his British accent.

You stood your ground, “The kiss-” you clarified. “Did. you. hate. it?” His eyes searched yours for an ounce of reasoning, “I- it was unprofessional and I shouldn't have initiated anything as your Captain-”

“That wasn't my question.” You cut him off, your eyebrows furrowed together as your gaze bore into him. “I asked if you hated kissing me.”

Price shifted, leaning back a little against his desk. It was silent for a while, the sound of the wall clock and your beating heart was the only noise you could hear. “No… I didn't hate it.” He said after another beat.

A small part of you soared, you could sleep at night knowing your kissing abilities weren't the cause of his skittishness. The next question slipped past your lips before you had the mind to stop yourself. “Do you regret it?”

Again his lips pulled into a frown and his eyes darted away, “[Name], I don't know why these questions are necessary.” But you weren't going to let him deflect you that easy, right now all thoughts of professionalism and integrity were out the window. You deserved an explanation, even if the logical side of your mind was telling you to leave. You stepped closer to him, so he couldn't ignore your presence.

“It's necessary because you kissed me out of nowhere and I deserve an explanation.” You said defiantly, “So do you or do you not regret it?”

He gave you an exasperated look before swallowing his pride. Pinching the bridge of his nose between his pointer and thumb, he spoke, “I regret kissing you at that moment, and how I went about it. But I don't regret kissing you, no.”

Price’s cheeks turned a slightly rosy color that reached his ears. He looked like a guilty dog. You didn't know what surprised you more, the fact that he apologized or that he didn't regret kissing you. But his admission sparked a heat that crawled into your bones, burying into your stomach and coloring your cheeks similarly to his.

“Then just kiss me again.”

What came out of your mouth seemed to surprise you just as much as it did Price. He looked at you like you had grown a second head, “I'm sorry?” You felt your limbs lose feeling, fuck it, if you were going in mind as well go all in.

“I said what I said, if you regret how you went about kissing me last time…make it up now.” The silence that stretched over the two of you lasted for far longer than you were comfortable with. Price shook his head, seemingly coming back to reality. “[Name], I'm not kissing you.” He said pushing off the desk to stand at his full height.

You frowned, well shit. “Why not?” You said, trying not to let the surprise and annoyance bleed through your tone.

He looked at you incredulously, “Because we're in my fucking office and you're my subordinate.” Price said, gesturing around his office to further his argument. Jeez, you really hated this guy. He could at least throw you a bone after pulling a kiss on you out of nowhere.

“So? You kissed me out in the open at the checkpoint base- and I was your subordinate then too.” You knew that he knew you had a good point there, “If you don't want to kiss me or something you could've just said so.” You glared.

Price groaned and shook his head, rubbing his hand over the nape of his neck. “No- I- fuck, of course I want to kiss you. But it's not appropriate, there are fraternization rules. Especially when it comes to me as your Captain.”

Aha! So he did want to kiss you, that at least was one more mystery solved. You craned your neck up to meet his eyes, your hands seizing his face. Cupping his scruffy cheeks between your palms. “Rules only apply if you get caught. And you owe me a better apology.” You told him sternly.

Price’s eyes were wide and his body tensed for a moment. Only to relax a moment later, the heat of his face could burn your skin. Your hands tingled as the pads of your fingers slid against the coarse scuff of his beard. His face hid something behind the mask of surprise, something that glinted in the pools of navy and grey. Everything about him looked so odd, so real.

Back at the checkpoint base, you didn't have time to look over his features or memorize them. You weren't able to watch the flicker in his eyes, something akin to a stalking wolf.

“One kiss.” Price breathed.

“One kiss.” You repeated back to him, trying not to let your voice quake.

That was all it took before his lips were slotted against yours, swallowing your breath and your mind with it. The kiss back at Urzikstan was rushed, desperate, quick. This. This was different. It was like a switch in your brain was flipped off, the mind-numbing static and the gentle rhythm of his lips replaced where your rational thought was supposed to be.

Large hands seized your waist, digging into your flesh. Slowly, the gentle probes of his mouth morphed into heavy kisses and heated groans. His mouth tasted the same as it did before, like smoke and whiskey. You doubted you'd ever forget the taste of him.

Your hands slid around his neck, and your dull nails dragged down his nape. Earning a throaty moan on his part, with each lick, groan, and movement of his lips, you only seemed to get sucked in further. Your senses were drowning in him, yet you only ached to go deeper. To let the water fill your lungs and cloud your brain.

Lips, tongue, teeth, you didn't know where it ended nor where it started. Hell, you didn't know what you were even doing. You didn't even realize you had moved until your behind hit the solid edge of his desk, making you retract for a sharp breath.

Price panted against your lips, still slick and kiss swollen. Neither of you did anything, standing still in the aftermath. The kiss said more than either of you could have ever put into words. Hands squeezed your hips, “On the desk.”

You blinked, only somewhat coherent, “What?” Price lightly pushed you further, the back of your body being pressed against the hardwood. “You heard me, sit on the desk.” His voice was rough and thick with his accent. It wasn't more of a request but a demand, and unlucky for you it made your knees weak.

Carefully you lifted yourself onto the flat surface, his body wedged between your open legs. The rough pads of his fingers grasping at your hips, and before you knew it you were kissing him again. It was addictive, he was addictive. This felt more like your fist kiss with him, the kisses became rougher, more rushed, and more desperate. Like trying to fill an endless void with his lips.

“I thought you said one kiss,” You managed to gasp out between open-mouthed kisses. You felt the pull of a smile on the corner of his lips before separating from you only to attach to your neck. Suckling at the skin and leaving trails of blooming redness in his wake.

“You said you wanted a better apology right?” Price said, his voice vibrating against your collar. The texture of his beard against your skin sending full-body shivers down your spine.

You nodded, your hands reaching to his back to fist the material of his shirt. “Yeah.” Your voice was breathy, it sounded almost foreign to you. Like you hadn't even spoken it. Hands dipped under your shirt, running up the soft skin of your ribs, mapping out your body. Price looked at you, something in his eyes was desperate, like a wild animal looking at their next meal.

“Then let me make it up to you. Please.” Fuck.

When had a man ever said that to you? And not any man but John fucking Price. A pulse drummed in your stomach that reached your core, here you were, sitting on your captain's desk with him in between your legs. Asking you to let him make it up to you. Really…who were you to refuse when he asked so nicely? You swallowed and nodded, “Okay.”

With your confirmation, Price lifted your shirt above your head, hastily tossing it somewhere on the floor. His hands making quick work of your bra with it, the offending garment joining your shirt on the floor. He stood there momentarily, taking in the new expanse of revealed skin. Price’s calloused hands glided over your abdomen, cupping your breasts and brushing a thumb over the hardened nipple.

You hissed, your spine curving at his touch. Price’s hands were hard and warm, a stark contrast to the plush mound of your chest. “Fuck, you're a vision you know that? So fucking pretty.” He breathed, his comments adding fuel to the fire between your legs. You couldn't remember the last time a man had called you anything near a ‘vision,’ but damn it felt good. It felt good to be wanted.

Your thighs squeezed together, blocked by his frame standing between them. Every movement he made caused your hips to brush, sending shocks up your spine. And shit could you feel him, he was a large man but the size of the tent brushing against your clothed core was downright ridiculous. No wonder his ego was so big, you absentmindedly thought.

A finger hooked one of the loops of your standard-issue pants. Price was looking at you, “Can I…?” He motioned down asking permission to discard the rest. To which you nodded, trying to hold back your eagerness. “Yeah go ahead.”

Price helped you out from your pants, letting them drop to the floor with a dull thud. He groaned as he caught eye of your underwear—a very embarrassing and very obvious wet spot coating the fabric. Fuck-you didn't realize that was there. You'd been so caught up in his hands you'd barely felt it. He shot you a knowing look, the corner of his lip twitched up.

“All this cause of me?” He asked smugly, circling a digit over the sodden fabric. You twitched, the contact making you bite down on your lip to keep from making a startled noise.

You glared at him, “Don’t fucking tease me.” You said, the embarrassment in your tone disguised as venom. He grinned, prick’ you thought. Price guided a finger over your clothed slit, leaning into the crook of your neck. “Never baby, just want to make things right with you.” He murmured into your skin.

Price tugged the fabric to the side, letting your slick lubricate his fingers. You shuddered, your hands holding onto him for dear life. “Fuck-” You choked out, your hips leaning into his hand. It felt infuriatingly good, the way his digit glided up and down your labia at a leisurely slow pace making you fein for more. He groaned as he watched you moan from the way he brushed his thumb over your clit.

“Atta girl, so good f’me.”

Oh.

You liked that. You'd never really paid attention to the gratification of someone praising you outside of an academic or professional level but at that moment you could tell that did something for you. And Price seemed to notice too.

He gently prodded at your entrance, earning a whine from your lips. “One finger or two?” He muttered, you could barely think let alone answer his question. What you did know was that you need more, “Two.” You said breathlessly.

A light chuckle reverberated off of him, “Greedy girl.” Price didn't wait and plunged two fingers into you slowly. You threw your head back as his thick digits stretched open the gummy walls of your core. “Fuck, look at you. So wet for me, so fucking sexy like this you know that?” You could only manage another choked whine as he mimicked the ‘come here’ motion with his fingers.

It was euphoric, the way he filled out your walls with his fingers alone. Slowly pressing the pads of his middle and ring up against the spongy spot inside you. You dug your nails into his shoulder, a silent scream fell from your lips. Price’s other hand holding the small of your back to support you. “Stay still,” He whispered into the shell of your ear, making you shudder.

You didn't listen, how could you? You could barely focus on what he was saying as it was, let alone when he was knuckle deep inside you.

When Price noticed you weren't listening he retracted his fingers, leaving you hollow. You whined, already craving the stretch of his fingers again. He rested his palm against your cunt, his digits barely tracing over your entrance. “Come on, I know you can listen, stay still for me yeah?” His voice vibrated against your neck and his beard brushed over the exposed skin. Making your body prickle with goosebumps.

“You're an asshole you know that?” You panted, going rigidly still. He smiled against you, his fingers plunging back into your wet heat. “And you're all bark and no bite, fuckin’ vixen. Always looking at me when you know you shouldn't, driving me insane all the time. Stubborn girl.”

You threw your head back, trying hard not to let your hips twitch or jerk. Your mouth fell open to let out a lustful moan that would've made anyone in the near vicinity blush.

Price continued, “You like driving me mad? Never fucking listening to me, arguing with me, riling me up.” He muttered, sliding his fingers in and out at a brutal pace. Making your cunt flutter, producing the most obscene sounds you ever heard from yourself. “Then you come in here all sexy asking me to kiss you. It's like you wanted this, wanted my fingers.”

You felt the burning fire in your core tighten and roar, “Price- slow down. M’gonna cum if you keep going.” You babbled, your nails leaving crescents on his bicep. Everything was happening so fast you couldn't keep track of what was going on.

Price’s fingers were rough, thick, they filled out the lining of your walls with ease. A thick fog started to cloud your mind, making the world almost blur. In. Out. In. Out. It was maddening, he wasn’t slowing and you were only growing more feverish.

He shook his head, his other hand leaving your hip to grab your chin. Forcing you to look into his eyes, an animalistic hunger written over his face. “No, you're going to cum on my fingers. Look at me while you do it, look at me while you soak my hand.” Price’s thumb circled over your clit, making you clench and pulse. A full-body shudder racking through you.

You came suddenly, unexpectedly. It was hard and fast, but in a way, it was like you were floating. Your muscles went rigid, your back curving, and your startled moan bounced off the walls of the office. It came in waves, crashing over you like the tide as he finger-fucked you through the orgasm. All the while staring directly into those familiar pools of blue and navy. Your pussy spasmed around his fingers.

After a minute you fell limp, like you'd just run miles, you panted. Hair falling in your face and wetness coating both his fingers and your inner thighs, the juices pooling onto the dark wood of the table. Price held your waist with one hand, letting you slump against his chest. It was peaceful bliss for a moment.

You caught your breath enough to sit up, meeting his gaze. His hand that held your waist moved to brush a few stray hairs falling over your eyes. The corners of Price’s lips pulled into a smile, and your heart stuttered, only a little though. “Have I made it up to you yet?” He murmured, the thickness of his voice could have melted your ears. Smooth like syrup but rugged enough to be devastatingly masculine.

“Apology accepted.” You breathed, trying not to sound too winded. It was too late to form any semblance of decency so the next best option was pretending he didn't single-handily give you the most toe-curling orgasm of your life. Easier said than done.

Price detached from you, walking over to one of his office drawers and pulling out a box of tissues. “Normally I'd have something better to clean you up with but these will do for now.” He said casually, pulling a few from the box and coaxing your legs back open to wipe down the mess. Somehow, you felt a blush spread across your cheeks.

This was so...domestic, sweet even, it wasn't like him. Then again, fingering you on his desk wasn't like him either but here you were. You both had crossed a line and there wasn't any going back, you swallowed. “Thanks, but uhm…what do we do now?” Frankly, it was a dumb question but you couldn't help asking.

He gave you a look, “What do you mean?” You squirmed under his gaze, trying not to look down at his warm hand brushing up against your inner thigh.

“Well, we can't exactly pretend like this didn't happen.” You clarified, watching as the wheels in his head turned. Price shrugged, “We can leave it at this if that's what you want. I think both of us are just on edge, y’know, the heat of the moment.”

Somehow his words didn't match his face, there was more that seemed to bellow beneath his tone. But rather than bringing it up, you thought about his words. This wasn't ever something you anticipated to happen but to your surprise, you didn't hate it. “What if we just kept it going?”

Price looked at you, his eyes widened a tad, the surprise written across his face doing more for your nerves than you were comfortable with. “Like- in the sense that you and I both have a lot of built-up tension and unresolved issues. But if this works to keep the peace why not give it a try? Discreetly of course.”

It was a beat before he responded, “Alright, but like you said, discreet. If anyone catches on this is done.”

You soared, why? You didn't know, it just felt like the best news you'd gotten in forever. But looking too deeply into that feeling was uncharted territory. Better off leaving it in the corner of your brain with all the other repressed emotions.

“Works for me.” You agreed, Price got up again to grab your poor clothes that had been flung across the room. Handing them back gingerly, he was nice enough to turn around as you reclothed yourself. There was a slight charge to the air, almost like static. It pricked at your skin, making you jumpy and nearly insecure. It was like you had reverted to a teenage girl.

He caught your gaze, and the unspoken tension and lingering awkwardness faded just a little. He gave you a nod, “I'll see you tomorrow for drills.”

You smiled just slightly, “See you.” Walking to the door and turning the handle, you forced yourself not to look back at him.

After shutting the door you breathed a sigh, brushing out your clothes and smoothing your hair of the lingering frizz. Getting cozy with your captain was not on your yearly bingo card, but hey, beggars couldn't be choosers. You absentmindedly thought about the implications of technically giving that stupid rumor some validity. But you were only human, a girl has to do what she has to do to get laid.

Discreetly, of course, you were great about being discreet. Yeah, easy peasy. All you had to do was make sure nobody found out.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

At first, you didn't really know what to expect when you first made the arrangement with Price about “solving the unresolved problems between the two of you.” But after a few weeks of working out frustrations ‘on’ each other, you could say with full confidence that this arrangement exceeded your expectations.

Not only had the genuine fights between you been on an extended hiatus, but it started to be replaced with playful banter. And when you weren't bantering or training or hanging out with the group, you were fucking. And boy was it something.

For one, Price was experienced, to say the least, he knew what to do and when to do it. He had mapped out your body and played it like a fiddle. And with your extent of mediocre lovers, it was like a breath of fresh air. And his body was nothing to sneeze at either, he had muscle allll the way down. Battle scars be dammed, everything just seemed to make him more appealing.

The only troubling part of the arrangement was keeping up the ruse and getting creative when it came to the actual action portion of it. But turns out that unconventional areas to have sex weren't as bad as they seemed. Office? Hell yeah. In the medical wing private rooms? Why not. In the showers and bathrooms? You only live once.

Unintentionally getting laid was also fixing your mood. Who knew an orgasm was a great way to fix an attitude problem? Well, at least most of your attitude problems.

You were outside running the trail that weaved its way around the base, at least once or twice a week Price would make you and the team run until you thought you would pass out. Something about endurance training. Running wasn't the worst thing but the harsh trail and uneven ground that zigzagged and dipped made you want to tear your hair out.

Your breath came out in small puffs, the cold air around you doing little to soothe the hot ache of your muscles. Your baby hairs stuck to your forehead and by the looks of it, you still had a few more miles left.

Jhonny ran beside you, his heavy breaths synchronous with yours. Up ahead was Gaz and Price and a few inches behind you was Ghost acting as caboose. You watched them run in front of you like you were studying a Peloton ad. Seriously, how the hell had they barely broken a sweat yet?? It was downright annoying how athletic they were.

“I swear, neither of them are human. Price just got cleared to run a week ago and he looks like he's having the time of his life.” You said between pants, next to you Soap laughed.

“Can’t say I disagree with ya’ there Bonnie, think he just does it for show at this point.” He said, his voice equally hoarse. From behind you, Ghost chimed in, “Maybe if you two stopped talking you'd actually catch up to them by now.”

You shot Ghost a glance over your shoulder, “People in glass houses.” You quipped, considering he was the caboose it was a little ironic. Not by much but still.

Soap grinned, “She’s right ain't she L.T.? Say, how's the arse of the train treating you? Got a nice view?”

Your laugh hurt, the air felt so thin but the pit of your stomach warmed. Talking while running (especially laughing) wasn't the smartest, but it was a distraction. Ghost swatted at the back of Soap’s head, cutting his laugh short.

From up ahead Price turned his head to look at you and Soap. “Two miles left, I’d suggest you save your stamina. If you fall behind on time you run extra.” He deadpanned. His voice barely sounded tired, the nerve.

You grimaced, “I think I’d prefer one of your medieval torture methods than running any longer.” Despite what you thought was an amusing comment Price didn't look enthused.

“That was a nice way of telling you and Jhonny to shut up, am I clear?” He said sternly, you held in your groan. Hookup buddy or not, Price was still annoying. “Clear.” You and Soap said in unison.

The rest of the path was spent in lingering silence. And by the time you reached base, you felt like you had one foot in the grave. You hunched over, your hands on your knees as you took in as many breaths as you could without it hurting. Had the air always been this thin?

Price was a few feet ahead, hands on his hips as he cooled off. His hair was slightly messy and his body glistened with a thin layer of sweat. He reached for his shirt and pulled it up to wipe his face, exposing the hard muscle and his happy trail. Dear lord. You watched him like a hawk, zeroing in on his abs as they expanded and decompressed with each breath.

He glanced your way, you were incredibly obvious so it was no surprise how his eyebrow twitched up and his lips pulled into a wry smile. “I did tell you to save your energy.” He commented quite smugly, referencing your current state.

You snapped out of the trance his abs had put you in, leaning back up and darting your eyes away. “I’m fine, just catching my breath. And for the record that felt way longer than normal, at this point, you just like to watch the team suffer.”

Price chuckled, crossing his arms. “Well someone’s bitter. But look, you did it and you came out fine. It's a win-win.”

You glared at him, unimpressed. “Sure, you work me like a dog until I inevitably die of overexertion and I get a paycheck in the mail that I'll never be able to spend because I'm dead. Win-win.” You said sarcastically. Price's lips tugged up, his mutton chops creating an almost teddy bear-like effect.

The corners of his eyes slightly crinkled, “Maybe you should've taken up drama instead of Military. Might fit you better.”

Your lips pursed into a line, Price was quick witted, but way too full of himself. It was a good thing you were there to keep his ego in line, you liked to think of yourself almost as the balancing act of the team. After all, there could only be so many cooks in the kitchen before things got rocky. “Good thing they don’t pay you for jokes.” You said, finally gaining back your breath.

Just as Price opened his mouth to give what was most likely a poor rebuttal a large hand patted your shoulder.

“[Name], pub tonight yeah?” It was Gaz. His beaming face almost made you squint. You took a minute to process his words, you were rarely one to inhabit the pubs on the outskirts of the base. But a brief memory of him and Jhonny asking you to go from earlier that morning cleared up your memory fog.

You cleared your throat and nodded, “Yeah- wouldn't miss it.” You said through your teeth. Gaz looked forward to Price, “You tagging along Price?”

You looked back at Price too, curious. He stood there a moment before sighing, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess I will. Someone's got to keep the lot of ya’ in check.” Your spirit plummeted, the last time you were drunk in front of Price you started cursing at him like a drunken sailor. And you started kissing him in broad…daylight? Nightlight? Whatever. The point was, that you had zero self-control when you drank.

Heck, you barely had any self-control when it came to Price. You were on him any chance you got, and mixing two of your greatest temptations just sounded like a recipe for disaster.

Gaz smiled, ruffling your sweaty hair. “Great! We’ll leave after dinner, Price you're designated driver.” You forced yourself to smile back, giving a weak excuse for an ‘excited’ laugh.

“Great.” You said through your teeth, giving an enthusiastic thumbs up. Price gave him a nod as he walked off towards Soap and Ghost.

“Can’t wait.” You breathed to yourself.

Game plan: Don't drink and avoid Price at all costs. Simple enough. After all, it was just a pub, how bad could it be?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Spoiler Alert: Bad. It could be bad.

In the first thirty minutes of being at the shabby pub, you'd broken your first rule by getting roped into a drinking game with Jhonny. Not the smartest of decisions by far that you made. But it did take off the edge, now the orange lighting and the peeling paint on the walls seemed quaint instead of creepy.

The warmth in your stomach buzzed with a low frequency that made you giddy. And you hadn't paid for any of your drinks courtesy of Jhonny. Things may have been turning out for the better if you stayed on your A game. But unsurprisingly you failed to do so.

You sat on one of the barstools, a classic marg in hand with the salted rim and fancy lime slice on the glass. Ghost was sitting next to you while you both watched Jhonny trying to sweet-talk some poor girl from across the bar. Price sat a few chairs down next to Gaz, wrapped up in a conversation with the old bartender. Slowly, you felt yourself getting cozy.

And you were drunk enough that you merely hummed along with the maroon 5 reruns that played in the background.

“I got fifteen on the girl slappin’ him by the end of the night.” Ghost said as you watched the scene unfold.

You couldn't help but let an unabashed giggle slip from your lips. “Honestly I can't tell if she wants to take him home or take him to the local station for harassment charges.” Ghost grunted in agreement.

The girl gingerly took another sip of her drink as Soap talked to (at) her. Earning another hearty laugh from both You and Ghost. After another minute of people-watching Ghost patted the bar table, fishing a pack from inside of his cargo pocket. “Alright, I’m taking five’ I'll be outside.” He said as he got up.

You frowned but nodded, your gossip buddy was gone which was annoying. But instead of dwelling on it, you took another sip of your marg. The tequila burned your throat in a sickly sweet way, it wasn't the best drink you'd ever had but it did the job. Mid-drink you felt someone else walk up behind you, without warning someone slid into the empty stool next to you.

“This seat taken?” You didn't recognize the voice, it was masculine but it didn't sound like any of the guys. You looked to your side, it was a guy. He looked to be taller, with pale skin, sandy brown hair, and dark eyes. He wasn't about to be on a magazine cover but he definitely wasn't hard to look at.

You didn't quite know what to say, “uh…yeah, I suppose by you.” It was a lame response but he did kinda already sit himself down.

He smiled, white teeth, a little crooked but nobody's perfect. He had a good jaw, not clean-shaven but it made him look a bit more approachable. “That’s good to hear,” he was holding a drink, a gin-and-coke by the looks of it. “I saw you and your friend playing that drinking game earlier, pretty impressive, didn't think you'd be able to keep up.”

You gave a bit of an awkward laugh, unsure of what to make of the situation. But friendly conversation wasn't off the table, and the mystery man seemed nice enough. “Yeah, I guess I did, thanks. You uh- you done anything like that before?”

Mystery man shook his head, “No I can't hold my ale. I prefer to let the professionals handle that.” You laughed, finding the comment a little ridiculous.

“I’d hardly call myself a professional.” You replied, taking another sip of your drink. His eyes dipped down to your lips, watching as you raised the glass to your mouth and swallowed. But, they quickly averted back to your eyes.

“I don't know, I would hardly classify you as intermediate. I would buy you a drink but I'm not sure that much to drink in one night is healthy.” He said smoothly, leaning one elbow against the counter.

Buy you a drink? Okay, maybe a bit too friendly. But maybe he was just being nice, people buy strangers drinks all the time. You nodded, “Oh that's nice of you. Yeah, I'd say after this I’ll call it quits.” You said, raising your marg.

He hummed and nodded, licking his lips. “Hopefully you're not too drunk, right?” Something about his tone you didn't like, it was like he was teasing you.

You averted your eyes, “Uh hopefully not. Just buzzed for now, I’ll probably feel the brunt of it later.” You laughed awkwardly.

“Did you drive here yourself?” Okay, what was with all the questions? You weren't sure if that was a courteous thing to ask or just downright nosy.

You shook your head, “No someone drove me.” You said simply, keeping it short and sweet. Maybe then he'd get the vibes you were putting off. He hummed, his eyes drilling into you like one of those toy lasers.

“Are you going home with anyone?” He asked, you almost choked on your drink. What was with this guy? How did you go from drinking the game two seconds ago to this??

He cut you off before you had the chance to say anything, “Because if not, I’d be willing to drive you back. Free of charge, of course.”

Free of charge my ass.

The actual charge probably consisted of a blow job in the back seat of his Toyota Corolla. Or white van, you were still figuring out the vibes on this guy.

You were stunned to speak, absolutely dumbfounded by the lack of social cues. It was like walking into the shallow end of a pool only to step into eight feet of water. To make it worse he reached forward, brushing a stray piece of hair out of your face. “Come on, don't leave me hanging. What do you say?”

Pound!’

Something hard hit the counter, making both your drinks wobble. You swiveled your head towards the noise, and low and behold your second greatest desire now stood between you and the mystery guy. Price.

His fist on the counter cut the conversation short as well as all the noise around him. Creating an oh-so-silent bar. The mystery man retracted his hand like he'd been scorched by an open flame. Looking up at Price with a bewildered expression, “What the fuck man?” He asked with a furrowed brow.

Price looked down at him, his expression unmoving. “Apologies, but I think it's time you go bother another person. Particularly one that isn't a part of my team.”

Whatever thoughts of arguing that the mystery man had immediately died as Price crossed his arms, puffing himself out like a bird when ruffling its feathers. You looked at both of them incredulously, sure you were glad Price came to the rescue but you could've handled it yourself. You didn't need him to come barreling through like a charging rhino to handle something you didn't even ask him to do.

You looked around to see everyone's heads turned in your direction, looking between Price and the other guy. Suddenly the alcohol in your stomach turned sour, and you felt your cheeks grow hot from the unwanted attention.

“Jeez, look I wasn't looking for any trouble. I didn't know she had a man, my bad.” He said, holding his hands up in surrender. Price didn't budge, guarding you like a stone wall. “Then off you go.” He said sternly.

The mystery guy nodded, sliding out from the barstool and walking past you and back to the table where he came from. The pub started to go back to normal, people picking up where they left off. Price turned back to you, his posture deflating a little. He looked down at you, and from the way you were looking back at him, he immediately knew something was amiss. “What?” He asked.

Your eyebrows slid lower on your face, your lips pursing into a tight frown. “What do you mean ‘what?’ What the fuck was that?” You whisper shouted at him, your cheeks still burning with embarrassment.

Price looked at you like you were crazy, a frown on his lips. “The bloke was touching you, you think I'm just going to stand by and let him paw at you?” He asked defensively.

Oh please. He barely even touched your face. It wasn’t great, but, it didn’t warrant Price making a whole spectacle. Especially not in front of the team, let alone a group of spectators. You looked back at Gaz, who was staring directly at you, then at Jhonny, who went back to talking to the girl.

“Can we talk about this somewhere else?” You signed, not wanting to be in earshot of Gaz who was most definitely eavesdropping. Friend or not, he couldn't know any more than he already did, the bastard was perceptive enough as it was.

Price glanced at Gaz and then back to you, his jaw working with tension. “Fine.” He huffed, you were a bit taken aback by the irritability in his tone. Why was he so mad now? He was the one who caused the scene. Nonetheless, you slipped out of the bar and followed Price as he stormed off.

You weaved through tables and people, trying your best to squeeze by without knocking into anything. Price walked into an emptier hallway that led to the restrooms. It was one of those creepy hallways with no overhead lights and weird pictures strung across the walls. You eyed the peeling wallpaper, it was like you'd stepped into a time capsule. Warm light poured from the main area of the bar, casting an orange hue against you and Price that was cut off by shadows.

He turned back to you, the furrow in his brow knitting the skin in between. He looked sexy. The thought popped into your mind before you had the sense to block it out. While very true you had to stand your ground. A hot man and some liquor in your system would not sway your resolve. (Maybe it could sway it a little.) focus!

“What was that? You charging up to that guy and slamming your fist on the counter.” You asked folding your arms over your chest.

Price leaned against the opposite wall, facing you. “I didn't charge up to him, I simply made it clear that he crossed a line.” He said defiantly. You raised a brow, unsure of what to make of the blanket statement.

“What line?” You asked, to which Price scoffed.

“He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, and don't think I didn't hear the way he was interrogating you. Come off it [Name], I know you're not stupid, you could see clear as I could what that fucker wanted.” He spat.

You exhaled, either the liquor was catching up to you or it was starting to get hot. “Well yeah, but he barely did anything, and that hardly warranted you taking matters into your own hands.” You defended, “-I could have just told him to fuck off or something. I didn't need you charging in like a bull and letting the entire bar know.”

You watched Price’s hand bawl into a fist, flexing the strain in his neck as he glared down at you. “What else was I supposed to do? Politely ask him to leave? When he's got his dirty hands on you like that-” He groaned, wiping his face with one hand.

“I'm not defenseless, I don't need you to rescue me.” You retorted, your hands holding your arms tighter to your chest.

Price rolled his eyes, “I know that. Don’t get smart with me.” He said pointing a finger your way, his mouth curling into a small snarl. “You don't get it, watching him practically undressing you with his eyes. It was fucking aggravating to watch- the way he looked at you.”

You were a bit surprised that he caught on to that, but you didn't feel like he was undressing you with his eyes per se. More like just intently staring, you pushed his accusatory finger down. “You're exaggerating, and you don't even know what he was thinking.” You tried to reason.

Price looked at you with a glare that would’ve made anyone else back down. But you didn't, as Jhonny once commented, you had the rather: “Fucking idiotic tendency to never be scared of Price.” What could you say? You liked a challenge.

He took a step forward, making you take one back. Your back hit the wall of the hallway. Like a caged animal, you were trapped. “I know exactly what he's thinking.” Price snarled, he grabbed your face. The rough pads of his fingers pressed into your hollow cheeks, his hand was so big it dwarfed your lower jaw.

“-Because I fucking think of the exact same things when I look at you.” His voice was harsh and low, sending ripples through your spine like shock waves. Price’s hand forced your face up so it was locked dead onto his, making you look into his eyes shadowed by the darkness. Flecks of light caught on his face, against his beard and jaw. If anyone were to walk into the hallway, it may have looked like Price was about to devour you like a starving carnivore.

You shuddered, he was so close it was driving your senses crazy. You could smell him, taste the venom in his voice, and God did it turn you on. You wanted more, you wanted to push his buttons. It felt good to drive him to the point of fury, to watch him slowly lose his composure. Years of hard discipline and mental strength all crumbling within minutes, and you wanted to watch.

“I don’t care if every man on the planet looks at me that way. I'm not yours, you don't get to put a claim on me. And you sure as hell don't get to make a scene in front of the entire bar and the team.” You spat back. Like an open flame, the wildfire between you and Price only seemed to burn brighter, faster, harder.

“-And what happened to being discrete huh? Last time I checked, scaring off any guy who looks in my direction isn't discrete.” You pried.

Price scowled down at you, his breathing starting to grow more labored. His hand clenched your face more forcefully, not enough to hurt but enough that you couldn't move. “You're right. You don't belong to me, but I am still your Captain, and you answer to me. Not to Gaz, or Jhonny, or Ghost. Not to some stupid prick who just wants a quick fuck. Me.”

Price was slowly getting angrier, to be honest, you rarely saw him this pissed. But deep down, it kind of did something to you. Knowing that you were the cause of his anger.

It was an ache that settled deep within your bones, making your blood coarse red hot. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe it was something more. Either way, you didn't care, you just needed to feel the satisfaction of breaking his ressolve. Stripping him of every facet that made him a man and revealing the primitive monster that lied underneath.

Your eyes narrowed into slits, “Fuck you Price.”

There was a beat of silence that stretched for far too long. It was so quiet you could almost feel the way your heart hammered in your chest. You made hard eye contact with him, watching the way his eyes widened and how his irises scanned over the expanse of your face.

“Fuck me?” He spoke, his voice hard and breathy. His hand forced your face up, straining the muscles in your neck. The back of your head was pressed into the hard wall with firm pressure. And to your surprise, the corner of his lip turned up into an amused smile. “Fuck me huh?” He repeated, and as suddenly as it appeared, his smile dropped.

“Fuck you.” He spat, surging forward into a clash of tongue, teeth, and lips. You quickly grabbed at his head, twisting your fingers through his hair. Your arms wrapped around him like a constricting snake.

The kiss was so rough you didn't even know if it could be classified as a kiss really. His body practically slammed into you, pinning you to the wall like a fly caught in a spider's web. One of his hands still clutched your face while the other was pressed flat into the wall beside your head. You heard one of the pictures that was hung on the wall next to you clatter to the ground. Everything seemed to fade into the background, all that mattered was the man who was currently pinning you to the wall.

Price was kissing you like a man starved. You forgot where you were, what you were doing, and why you felt so angry in the first place.

You distantly felt his hands move down to roughly cup your ass and then the back of your thighs. Price hoisted you up, trapping you between the wall and himself. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, grinding your hips against his. You groaned as you felt his tented pants against your clothed core, he was hard as a rock.

Your hands raked down the expanse of his back, fisting the soft cotton of his shirt between your fingers. Price took a few steps back, holding you to his chest still. His back hit the other wall with a thud, making the other pictures rattle. He kept maneuvering around like a blind man until his back hit the door to one of the bathrooms. It gave way to his weight, swinging backward.

“Price what-” Your words were cut off by another open-mouthed kiss. You returned it just as eagerly, maybe asking what he was doing could wait another minute. Price’s back hit the door again, one of his hands scrambling for the lock. He carried you across the empty bathroom, bouncing off the walls and counters as you went.

He managed to open the door to the last stall tucked away in the corner. Slamming against the stall you kissed him like an animal, clawing at his back and rolling your hips into his.

After another minute you pulled away for a breath, panting like you'd just swam up for air. His breath fanned your lips, thick with his taste and your mixed spit. The dingy bathroom was poorly lit, casting everything inside it in a dark light. You swallowed, “What are we doing in here?” You panted.

Price’s hands squeezed your ass, “Making sure nobody else can see what I'm about to do to you.” His voice was heavy and thick, like molasses sugar. The richness of it clouded your senses, making you loopy. Without warning he pulled you off him, setting you down on your feet with a hand tangled in your hair.

“On the ground.” He spoke, more of a command than anything.

You blinked, either it was the round of drinks or just his effect on you but the words barely processed. “What?” You breathed, your eyebrows knitting together.

Price gave your head a sharp yank, a surprised gasp slipping past your lips. His thick digits curled around your hair tighter, pulling your scalp taunt. “I said on the ground, I know you can listen to me.” He said, his voice was rough now, scratching against your eardrums like sandpaper. You knew you were in far too deep to back out now. (Not that you wanted to). So, you obeyed, much like an animal self domesticating itself to survive.

Your knees pressed into the cool, hard tile. Price still held your hair, craning your neck up to look him in the eyes. You saw it, the small restraint he always held, like a second face he wore around everyone else- it was gone. There was pure, unabashed want in his eyes. You felt your lungs deflate, the breath leaving your body. Hands that held his thighs dug into his jeans, an unspoken message that screamed ‘go.’

The adams apple in his throat bobbed, and Price’s other hand migrated to his belt. Gradually he unclasped the silver belt buckle, “You’re a smart girl [Name]. I know you didn't just say all of that before cause’ you wanted to prove a point to me.” He spoke, sliding the leather band open and pushing the top button of his pants through the slit. “-I know you're not that fucking stupid. So tell me…why did you? Just to get under my skin? To rile me up?”

Your throat ran dry, eyes glued to his fingers as they slid down the zipper. Preening to watch the way his boxers spilled out of the narrow opening. Price yanked your head back again with a sharp yelp on your part.

“Look at me. Not my cock, you'll have plenty of time to look at it later.” He breathed, pools of navy boring in your eyes. His pupils dilated, the soft red that colored his cheeks and ears doing little to soothe the roaring flame that burned between your legs.

You were at a loss for words, to be honest, you weren't completely sure why either. A sense of curiosity? It was hard to put into speech, “I…I wanted to see what you'd do.” You answered, making his eyebrow twitch up.

“Thats all? Not because you have a fascination with me? With fucking with my goddamn head. You don't like driving me insane?” He spat, palming a hand over himself. Your eyes flicked down, watching the fabric of his briefs stretch over the bulge.

You swallowed, looking at him tentatively. “I wanted to see the real you. Not the front, not the put-together Captain. You.”

A silence hung in the air, one that casted a thick layer of tension between you. Price’s lips turned upwards, a darkly amused chuckle echoing through the empty bathroom. “You already had me, baby.” He reached his hand into his briefs, pulling out his thick cock. He groaned, rubbing his hand up and down his appendage, “Fucking temptress that's what you are. You want me to not hold back, is that it? To fuck you stupid?”

You couldn't take your eyes off him even if you'd wanted to. No matter how many times you saw his dick it never got old, all you could do was marvel at it. He was big, and more importantly, he was thick. You watched his hand stroke the peachy skin, watching the heaviness of its girth and the reddened mushroom tip that beaded with milky pre-cum.

Price laughed, eyeing the way you looked at him like a starving animal. “This what you wanted? What all the fuss was about?” You couldn't help but nod, wetting your lips just at the sight. “-Tell me you want it. That you want me to fuck your throat raw.” He spoke, Price held himself just out of reach. Like a cat with a feathery toy, you were completely entranced.

You nodded, “Price fuck my throat.” The words sounded so odd coming from your mouth, so raw and crude it almost surprised you.

Price gave your head a small tug, a satisfactory grin on his face. He looked down at you, nodding his head to you as if to say ‘Go ahead.’ You could barely contain yourself as your hands slid around his cock, feeling the burn of hot skin beneath your palms. He was so thick your one hand almost couldn't wrap around his girth, two hands would have to do the job.

The weight of his length felt good, oh yeah, and not to mention that he was harder than a metal pole. Hastily you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, swirling your tongue over the bulbous tip.

Price’s head fell back against the stall door, his hips twitched forward. A hearty groan fell from his parted lips. The hand in your hair gave you an encouraging squeeze. You hummed, letting the vibrations from your voice reverberate off his dick. He tasted like skin, musky and salty, leaving an earthy kind of aftertaste that clung to your tongue like syrup.

You separated with a lewd ‘pop, watching the muscles in Price’s neck strain. Dipping your head you licked a stripe up his cock, coating the length in a thin layer of spit. One hand stroked him up and down while the other dug into his thigh, leaving small crescents into the fabric of his pants. Beads of pre-cum spilled out from the small slit of his tip, you let your thumb swipe over the head generously lubing up his base.

Price’s hands tightened in your hair, “Fuck- that's it. Just like that pretty girl.” He panted, earning a pleased hum from your lips.

Without warning you took his cock back into your mouth, sinking down the furthest you could without gagging. The gummy walls of your throat tightened around the foreign object, accompanied by a wet gulping noise. You inhaled through your nostrils, trying your best to take him further.

Price cursed loudly, the sound of his voice bouncing across the tile walls. His cock twitched in your mouth. You moved your head down then forward, repeating the motion until you found a steady rhythm of bobbing down on his dick. What your mouth couldn't reach your hand made up for, squeezing and stroking faster and faster. He was so wound up you could practically feel the tension under his skin.

You pulled off of him, your mouth agape as you panted. Spit and other fluid gleamed against your lips like a gloss. Price looked down at you, confusion written across his face with a tad of concern.

“Are you okay?” He said through heavy breaths, to which you nodded. However, you shot him a stern look.

“You're holding back.” You panted, staring at him with a knowing glare. Price looked at you, unsure of how to respond to your accusatory tone. “-I said-Fuck. My. Throat.”

His face hardened, and the same animalistic gleam came back. “Fine. You want me to let go? I can let go.”

That was all it took before his hand wrapped around your hair like a rope. Pushing you down his cock inch by fucking inch. He moaned through his teeth, “Fuck- you know what to do if it gets to be too much.” He said breathlessly. It was true, you did know you always had an out, but this was way more fun.

Your jaw went slack to accommodate him, the stretch of him down your throat sending full-body shivers down your spine. Then he started to move. Your hands found his thighs, digging your nails into his pants.

Price made good on his promise, fucking your throat like it was his life’s goal. The tip of his cock hit the back of your throat making you almost gag, hot tears stung your eyes. It was rough and desperate, he used your throat like he hated your guts. And you couldn't help but love every second of it, you managed to crack him. The hard shell he kept, and the walls he built up, were slowly crumbling down.

Then, as quickly as he pushed you down he pulled you off of him. You sucked in a desperate breath, making a small noise of confusion. You stared at Price with a quizzical look, one that bordered on ‘wtf??’

Price looked wrecked, his hair tussled and cheeks tinged red. Small beads of sweat trickled down his temples, but he smiled. “I'm sorry baby, did you want me to keep going?” He exhaled, an almost pitying aspect to his tone. The hand in your hair slid down to cup your chin, a rough thumb swiping over your puffy bottom lip.

“Why’d you stop?” You frowned up at him, and try as you might the disappointment in your voice was clear as day.

Price cupped your jaw, forcing your head back further. “Because as much as I love your mouth, I would much rather cum in that beautiful cunt of yours.”

You tried not to choke, refusing to give him the satisfaction that his words sent whole body shivers through you. But, it did sound heavenly, so you nodded and let him help you to your feet again. From there he guided you up against the stall, your palms flat on the cool door.

Price’s chest went flush with your back, his face tucked into where your shoulder met your neck. His hot breath fanned against you and the hairs of his scruff tickled your skin. Thick hands found your hips, sliding to your crotch to unzip your pants. You tried not to let your breath hitch as he palmed a hand over your clothed cunt.

“Jesus- this wet for me already? Haven't even touched you yet, but here you are, soaking your panties like a slag.” Price murmured into your nape, and even though you couldn't see it, you could feel his smirk.

You bit down on your cheek, “Big talk from someone who could barely keep it together while getting a simple blowy.” Your pants slid down and a sharp blow was delivered to your behind. You yelped, caught off guard by the harsh slap.

“Careful.” He murmured, his voice reverberating off the shell of your ear. Your eyes stung with tears as the burning sting of his mark cooled into a low ache. “-We don't have a whole day for you to think of a good comeback before someone comes knocking on that door. So I’d try to cooperate unless you want me to leave you high and dry. Which I'm perfectly fine with doing.”

Liar. He was bluffing, but Price was just as stubborn as you were and would most definitely make you wait an unseemly amount of time just to cum. So, for once in your life, you listened.

Trying to bite back your moans, you stood statue-still as Price tugged the offending garment to the side. Two fingers slid along your folds before plunging inside with a wet squelch. “Fuck, you're tight. You sure you can take me?” He breathed, and you threw your head back into his chest. He fingered you slowly, mapping out every crevice and dip with the pads of his fingers.

It wasn't enough. You needed more, “Price if you don't fuck me right now, I swear to god, I will do it myself.” Okay, so maybe that sounded a little bit more desperate than intimidating, but it got the message across.

You felt his breathy chuckle against your ear, and suddenly, his fingers slipped out of you. “Yes ma'am,” he said. However, the empty void left by his fingers was soon replaced by the burning contact of his cock against your swollen folds. Price groaned as he slid himself back and forth, gathering up your slick to use as lube.

A shudder ran down your spine, your palms pressing against the door harder. You pushed your hips back against him, earning another pleased hum from your Captain. You could barely breathe, there was a burning tension that ate away at your core. Like a rope stretched too tight, all you could do was wait for it to snap apart.

His tip slowly slipped inside your hole, the burning stretch of his girth sending the hairs at the back of your neck up. Inch by inch he seethed himself into you, “Price-holy fuck.” You moaned, even with how wet you were, no amount of lube would ever fully prepare you for the sheer mass of him.

Price drew you in, letting your walls stretch and mold to his dick. His hands grabbed at your hip and lower stomach, holding you in place. His beard brushed against your collar as he placed a few nipping kisses on your neck. “I know baby, I know, taking me so fuckin’ well. Shit, this pussy was made for me.” He murmured into your sweaty skin.

Without warning, his hips drew back only to snap forward again. You couldn't help the unseemly moan that fell from your lips, he pounded into your cunt like it was his last day alive. The sloppy sounds of skin echoed through the room.

“Oh my god- Price.” You choked out, the side of your face pressed against the door. “-feels so good.” You panted between wet slaps as his hips drove into your behind. You could barely think over the sound of your moans, each second that his dick plunged back into your sopping pussy felt like sparks being lit inside of you.

He moaned, his voice resounding across the shell of your ear. A hand snaked its way up your stomach and cupped your neck like a choker necklace. His skin burned, thick fingers curling around your scruff. It didn't hurt but it was firm, making you pliant to his body. “That's it. Take my cock, let me fuck you like the slut you are.” He grid out, “-this pussy knows what she wants, and it's me. Nobody else can fuck you like I do. Nobody else can give you what you need, what you deserve.”

Your cunt fluttered around him, causing his hips to stutter before driving back into you with so much force your hips hit the door.

Knock knock knock’

You're body went rigid, and all the air in your lungs seemed to escape your ribs. Fuck! You had totally forgotten that you were in a public bathroom for Christ's sake. Price had locked the door, but that didn't mean people wouldn't try and come in.

Knock knock knock!’

It was louder this time, more impatient. You tried to look back at Price, but his hand on your neck held your head still. He wasn't stopping.

“Not so fast girly, I’d like to finish what I started.” He chuckled, angling his hips as he slammed back into your cunt. The head of his cock nuzzled against the spongy muscle of your g-spot. You were so caught off guard you didn't have time to cover the absolutely shameless moan that slipped from your lips.

Price groaned, and his cock twitched. “Fuuckk that's it, let them hear you. Let everyone know how good I'm making you feel, how good I'm fucking this pussy.” You could barely process his words, everything was starting to build up to the point you were almost seeing stars. “-Come on baby, cum for me. Cum on my cock.” He panted through firm thrusts.

A sharp cry rang through the empty walls, you saw white. Body pulsing as the waves of euphoria washed over your body like the tide. Each thrust sending new shocks down your spine, prolonging every second of your orgasm. Price’s hips stuttered, a loud curse ringing from his lips as he came inside you.

What followed was an extended silence that was filled with heavy pants. You could barely stand, Price’s chest flush with your back, his head leaning against your shoulder.

“Think they got the message?” Price mused, his voice thick with exhaustion. You couldn't help the laugh that rose from your chest, listening in for another knock. When none came you sighed, “Guess so.” You breathed.

After another minute of rest Price pulled off of you, leaving a trail of cum seeping down your thigh. Not to mention your sweaty back and all-around messy appearance. Price simply grinned at you when you shot him a nasty glare, using some toilet paper to clean up the fluids. “Whoops.” He shrugged.

It was a good thing you were on the pill, you might've slapped him if otherwise. He chuckled and pressed a ‘sorry’ kiss to your temple, “Come on soldier, you look like you've been through a war.” He quipped. You didn't even try to laugh at that one.

“Funny.” You said sarcastically, but once he opened the door after redressing you, you froze. The reflection in front of you looked well…like you had just been fucked in a bathroom stall. Small bites and hickeys littered your neck, poking up to where it was obvious to see. You hit his shoulder, “You dumbass, I look like I've been attacked by a swarm of mosquitoes! What the hell is the team going to think Mr. Designated Driver?”

Price looked at your reflection too, scratching the back of his neck. “We’ll find you a coat.” He settled on.

There was a small beat of silence, you looked back at him. “A coat, and I get to skip running drills for next week. Then you're forgiven.”

He looked back at you, “Deal.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You really shouldn’t have been doing this. It was stupid, completely idiotic. (maybe not as stupid as hooking up with your captain in a pub bathroom.) But alas, John Price could charm you into anything.

The cold night air of autumn nipped at your nose, making your face feel numb. Somehow you still felt the breeze blow through your bones while bundled up in a large coat and scarf. Hands in your pockets, you tried your best to walk inconspicuously through the small town streets next to the base.

It was late, past lights out. Just minutes before you were getting ready for bed. However, when Price called you up out of the blue asking for you to meet him for a night walk, curiosity got the best of you. To say it was odd would be an understatement, but you knew better than to pass up the opportunity. The nightlife in the little town was pretty nice, with Halloween now in full swing and all.

Small pumpkins and candles littered the ground while stores and bars were strung with purple and green lights. For a second you almost forgot you were supposed to be meeting Price. You checked your phone, reading over his message again.

[Captain]: The place is by the park, on 82th Ave. It’s an outdoor pop-up, festive. You can't miss it.

You looked over at one of the street signs, 79th Ave, it said. At least you were getting closer, directions weren't really your strong suit so all you could really do was hope for the best.

If anyone saw you out of base, especially with Price you’d 100% raise a few eyebrows not to mention you'd be in deep trouble. So you dipped your head as low as it could go to conceal your identity. Was this behavior one of a paranoid schizophrenic? It was possible. But after the phesasco at the bar, you were okay with being weary.

You heard a soft crowd of voices coming from a distance away. Walking towards it you saw a playground lit up with small lights, two children with what looked like their parents chasing them across the woodchips. More adults walking around the greener outskirts of the ground, laughing and holding dogs on leashes.

It stirred something good inside you, like a warm feeling that you didn't often get. You stopped walking, just watching the scene play out like a domestic storybook.

“Took you long enough.”

You jumped, whipping around to see the deep voice behind you. Standing there was Price, dressed in a thick coat with worn-out jeans. He held two plastic cups in his hands, steam rising off the mystery substance inside.

“You scared me,” You deadpanned. Your eyes went from the drinks in his hands back to his face. “-What’s with the cups?”

Price rolled his eyes, nodding behind him to the pop-up stand. “It’s cold, so I got you something to warm up.” He handed you one, which you accepted. Raising it to your nose, you sniffed the steam. It was warm, thick with spices, and sweet. You looked back at Price with a quizzical look, to which he smiled. “It’s cider.”

You raised an eyebrow, looking at him skeptically. “Not the spiked kind I hope.” Holding the cup a bit away from you like it was radioactive. Price's eyes crinkled, chuckling as he shook his head.

“No, not spiked. We've got drills in the morning, I wouldn't do that to you.” With his confirmation, you took a sip, pulling your scarf down so you could drink. The hot liquid burned your tongue, but the flavor was worth it as it slid down into your stomach. Your eyes flickered up from the rim of the cup, looking at Price.

His eyes were on you, looking at you with a rare kind of softness. But after the split second of eye contact, he was the first to look away. You wiped your lips of the remaining sweetness, “Price what are we doing here?” You asked.

He cocked an eyebrow, “I thought I told you we were going on a night walk.” He said nonchalantly, earning a half-grunt on your part.

“I know that, but why am I here? I doubt that you're incapable of walking alone.” You pointed out, but Price just shrugged.

“Good company.” He said serrupticously, a wry smile stretched onto his lips. “-Are you really that averse to spending time with me? I'd hope after all this time spent together I wouldn't need a reason to want to be around you.” Price started walking, and out of instinct, you followed behind him until you were shoulder-to-shoulder with him.

“You're a bad lair.” You said, taking another sip of your cider. You watched the calm nightlife and a thought bubbled into your mind. Maybe to an onlooker you and Price probably looked like a couple just going on a stroll. It wasn't rocket science to see that there was a fraction of tension between you. Your cheeks pinked at the thought, but you pushed it away as soon as it came.

Price was also looking at the surrounding people, an odd look on his face. Something akin to yearning or want. He must've felt your stare because he spoke up. “Inquiring minds?”

You averted your eyes, “Sorry.” To which he shook his head, taking a sip of his drink.

“Don't bother, it’s fine.” He said cooly, his eyes fixed on a family standing a few feet away. You looked back at them then back to Price. A dawning washing over you in an instant. Your eyes furrowed in question.

“You uh… have a family?” Jesus that sounded choppy, you cringed at yourself. He looked at you a little surprised but shook his head.

“I mean sure. Everyone does, at least at one point. But if you're asking if I do currently then no.” You nodded, feeling a little bad for asking. It wasn't too uncommon in your field, but it still put a grim mood in the air. You tried thinking of ways you could rectify it.

“So…no crazy ex-wife or estranged children that I need to be worried about?” You said humorously, when Price smiled, a part of you sighed in relief.

He shook his head again, glancing at you. “No ex-wife or estranged children, no.” You smiled and nodded, but that raised another question.

“How come?” you asked simply.

He shot you a pointed look, “You're asking me that like I'm ancient. I'm not that much older than you are,” He breathed. “-But if you have to know I guess I just never had the time. It's a bit testy trying to form long-term connections with people when you're in this line of work.”

You nodded in understanding, he was right. The long deployments, chances of not coming back, weird hours, it all would put a strain on a relationship. It didn't stop some, however, sometimes after not seeing the good in humanity for so long you lose the ability to connect with anyone. Especially ‘normal’ people.

Your mind flashed to an old ex-boyfriend who used to talk at length about how cool it was that you got to “kill people for a living.” You didn't see it that way. Desensitized or not, it was still a human life you were taking, it took a toll, even if you were getting paid for it.

“I get that. It's hard to commit to someone you don't get to see most of the time.” You shrugged, a part of you wanted to ask about every relationship he'd ever had. More importantly how you fared against them. And for some odd reason, you felt uncomfortable knowing that he had been with other women. Maybe it was just basic biology or primitive instinct.

Price nodded, “If I could I would've.” He glanced back at the family, watching as the dad swept up his toddler into a hug. It was bittersweet, the way Price looked at the display, dangerously pulling at your heartstrings.

You gave him a weary smile, “There’s still time. Like you said, you're not ancient. Why not just retire and settle down with someone?”

Price looked back at you for a split second, not saying anything. He looked back out at the dark trees, the leaves rustling in the cold wind, and the lights that wrapped around the park. “Maybe at one point that was an option, but not now. I'm not cut out for it, my life is here. I'm no good at civilian shit, so I best stick to what I know.”

You didn't know what to say to that, it was a tough pill to swallow. It was silent for a few seconds. But, You nudged your shoulder with his, “Well then, I guess you're stuck with me.” Offering a somewhat awkward smile to go along with it.

Price looked down at you as he walked, his blue eyes were dark like the ocean. You didn't want to look away, you wanted to swim in his thoughts, drown yourself in his pools of navy grey. Eyes that housed so much hostility and venom towards you now bore into your own with a warmth that struck you like a match. His lips turned up, “Guess there are worse places to be.”

Your smile came back, and the mood between you ebbed into a lighter, happier atmosphere. Taking a last swig of your cider you shook your head, “You guess? Need I remind you who asked me to be here?”

Price chuckled, doing the same and tossing his empty cup into a nearby garbage. “Alright, you win. I am grateful you came, like I said, all in good company.”

The conversation faded into a comfortable silence, and you and Price walked around the park. You watched as more and more people slowly started to dwindle, leaving it emptier than when you got there. After doing a sort of loop you both agreed to start walking back to base, and so you did. Shoulder to shoulder you walked with him through the small streets and shops.

Once you started coming up on the familiar large building a strong gust of air hit you. Your eyes shut tightly and your nose scrunched. When you did open your eyes back up Price was looking at you, you stared back at him. “What?”

Price snickered, “Wind got you pretty good. There's a leaf in your hair.” He pointed out, to which you blindly started to try and fish out said leaf. He shook his head at your feeble efforts, stopping your hands.

“I’ll get it. You're just messing it up.” He breathed, carefully his large hands combed through your head. Plucking out a pine leaf and a small fuzz, “There.” He said proudly.

He flicked the unwanted objects off to the side, but one of his hands never left your hair. He was almost holding your face in his palm, you blinked up at him. Wondering why he wasn't letting you go, “Is there something else?” You asked.

Price looked at you, licking his lips before pursing them in a line. Slowly he shook his head, “No.” It was silent for another beat, the soft puffs of your breath visible in the cold. You watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed.

“Tell me you don't want me to kiss you.” He breathed.

Without a second thought, you shook your head no, “Price kiss me.” It was almost alarming to you how naturally it came out. You barely even processed your own words.

And as his lips met yours in a chaste, soft kiss, you let yourself melt into him. You let him in.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You had five months until your time with 141 came to an end. In that time you had managed to befriend the whole team, make enemies with your captain, kiss said Captain, go on to have a very explicit no-strings-attached relationship with him, and now…this.

What was ‘this?’ Well, you didn't really quite know yourself. But after that night when he kissed you outside of base without any intention of hooking up with you, your clear-cut relationship with him became a jumbled mess of suppressed emotion. No longer were intimate gestures limited to sexual encounters, in fact, they were frequently more domestic.

Was this all of Price’s doing? No. It was both, both of you were an intimacy-starved mess. But you couldn't help it, his private quarters were so nice and his king-sized bed seemed to fit both of you nicely on the nights you couldn't sleep. And what of it that you helped him with paperwork into the wee hours of the night? He hated being stuck up in his office alone, it was a kind gesture. Now you didn't even have to make your morning tea and coffee because whenever you made your way into the small break room a fresh cup was always sitting on the counter for you in Price’s signature mug.

And on your weekends off? Oh, you bet your sorry (but not really,) ass he was stuck to your hip like glue.

Without knowing it, you and your captain had almost formed a routine together. One that slowly started filling the lonely silence of your day with his body, his voice, his presence.

You knew every scar on his body, you'd mapped them out like constellations. You learned something new about him every day too, it was exciting yet familiar all at once. Unbenoiced to you, 141 and by extension Price, had become home.

All of this had somehow been accumulating without your knowledge until now. To which this realization that you were a little too fond of your captain hit you like a truck. Bringing you to your current position, hunched over a small table that was tucked away in the corner of the break room. It was wayyy past lights out, but laying in your bed left with your thoughts and anxiety sounded nightmarish. A steaming cup of tea sat on the table a few inches away, (in Price’s signature mug of course.)

Just as you were about to finally take a sip, someone walked in. You sat straight up, your heart running a million miles an hour. On top of that, you almost knocked your tea over. Who the hell was coming in at almost one in the morning???

It was Gaz.

You placed a hand over your racing heart, letting out the breath you didn't know you were holding. “Jesus- you scared the shit out of me Garrick.” You said wearily.

Gaz stood at the door in his beat-up grey sweatshirt and plaid pajama pants. He looked a little rough, well, as rough as someone with his looks could be. He scratched the back of his head, “Sorry, didn't think anyone would be up this late.” Dark eyebags colored his smooth brown skin, making him look like he was two steps from passing out.

Your eyebrows furrowed in a slight amount of worry, “rough night?” He nodded, walking into the room, and making a beeline for the refrigerator.

“Pretty much, figured it was better to be awake than sleeping if sleep wasn't doing me any good.” He yawned, grabbing one of those refrigerated protein bars from the fridge. You nodded a silent understanding. Nightmares were commonplace, nobody talked about them, but everyone had a shared understanding of what went on in and after you woke up. Sometimes it was hard to distinguish where the dream ended and reality began.

He looked back at you as he tore the wrapper off, “What about you? You look like shit…so I want to say you're in the same boat?” Gaz took a large bite of his bar.

You groaned, your head falling back down on the wood table. “Gee, thanks. But not really, just sorting out some other business.” You said bitterly.

Gaz hummed in understanding, but when you looked back up he was pulling the opposite end chair out. He sat himself across from you, folding his arms as he ate. “Okay, what's up then?” He said plainly.

You blinked at him, “What? No, I'm not just going to tell you. It's private.” You said shaking your head and putting your hands up as if to block his question. Gaz looked at you unimpressed, raising a single eyebrow.

“Uh-huh, does it have something to do with Price?” He said, staring at you with the intensity of a laser.

You almost choked on your spit, looking at him like he'd just killed your family cat in front of you. Your mouth agape, “Absolutely not. Why would you think it’d be about Price?” You said quickly.

Gaz simply looked at you, raising both his eyebrows at you. A silent communication of ‘Are you serious?’ was said by his stare. After another moment of the staring contest, you gave up, dropping your head back down with a groan. “I'm so fucked.” You said defeated.

He perked up, “Spill.” Was all he said.

You covered your mouth, almost as if to stop yourself from saying anything. This was so breaking every agreement you and Price had talked about. But frankly, you were going insane keeping it to yourself. And maybe Gaz was the best person to tell, as much as you loved Ghost and Soap, they were useless at keeping secrets.

You glanced back up to Gaz, his brown eyes intently staring at you. Your resolve started to crumble, “I think I’m in love with him.” Whispered, the haunting words magnifying the gravity of the situation you found yourself in.

Gaz’s eyes shot wider like he’d just been injected with 1,000g of caffeine. His mouth fell open, and the half-eaten bar in his hands dropped onto the table. You both sat there staring at each other with similar mortified expressions. He shut his mouth, “I-Well that wasn't really what I expected to hear.” He said agast.

You buried your face into your hands, groaning. “Fuck I know- I don't even know where that came from. But we've been like…messing around with each other for a few months, and I thought it was just that.” You sighed, rubbing your face with your palms. “But now everything is like complicated, I just let my feelings take the reins and got ahead of myself. Now I don't know what to do and nobody knows because obviously, I couldn't tell anyone. After all, either of us could get in trouble.”

Gaz sat silent as you rambled on, “-I’m still not sure exactly what I'm feeling. I've never felt this way about anyone else, I've had boyfriends, but not a weird hookup situation. So, I'm not sure how one really goes about this.” You looked down at the table, taking a breath. “So, does that answer your question?” You breathed.

He stared at you, dumbfounded. “So that rumor you got so mad over was true?” He said lamely, to which you groaned and threw your hands up in the air.

“No!” You whisper shouted, “-I mean no but yes. The rumor came first, that night I stormed off Price kissed me. And after that things just kinda… got carried away.” You said sheepishly, feeling a bit guilty.

Gaz let out a deep sigh, leaning back in his chair. “Jesus [Name], I knew something was going on between you but I didn't think it went that deep.” He ran a hand over his chin, scratching his jaw. “-So…you and Price have been secretly fucking, but just recently you realized that this uh, arrangement, has gone to shit because you now have feelings for him. Am I following?”

You pursed your lips into a tight line, “Pretty much.”

He nodded and hummed in concentration, “Okay, but what changed? What made you realize you had feelings? Because to the rest of the team, it still looks like you’re at each other's throats.” Gaz said, crossing his arms.

You thought about it for a moment, trying to pull maybe a specific event from your memory. “I guess it just kinda built up…I mean he just changed. Sure we still fight but it’s more like banter now. He kisses me, and he holds me, he's funny and sweet…it's almost like I get to see an entirely new version of him that I just didn't see before.”

Gaz blinked at you, seemingly surprised. “Actually?” He said, stunned. To which you nodded aggressively.

“Yes- he's totally done a 180. But in a good way, he's still the same asshole but he's loving and caring too. And I feel like I'm pulling my teeth out just staying in a situation where he makes me feel like I mean so much, but then I have to go and pretend I hate him.” (you still sometimes did.)

Gaz listened to you speak, holding his chin while he thought about your words. After you were done, all he could do was sigh, “Well…shit. Half of me wants to pat you on the back while the other half wants to slap you across the face for being stupid.”

You scrunched your nose, holding your hands up in surrender. “Please don't, I have enough problems as it is. I don't need to add a black eye into the mix.”

Gaz breathed an amused laugh, though, it sounded more weary than you would've liked. Even if it was the worst idea in the world to tell him, you felt better now that it was off your chest. You looked down at the table, “So, what do I do now?”

He opened his mouth to respond but all that came out was silence. He was just as lost as you were.

You looked at him hopelessly, “Come on man, give me something.”

Gaz looked down at the table, pursing his lips in a tight line. Obviously, he had an idea, but he just wasn't saying anything. “What if you tried to make it work with him?” He proposed.

Your eyes widened a fraction, your mouth hanging open in what only could be described as ‘gobsmacked.’ “You're kidding right?” You asked, your tone nearly laughable.

He shook his head, crumbling up the wrapper of his protein bar and tossing it into a nearby trashcan. His shoulders rose with a sigh, “No I'm not. I mean… why not just try? It sounds to me like you've got a fighting chance to make things work.” He said encouragingly.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, your eyes squeezing shut. “Two minutes ago you said you wanted to slap me, and now you're telling me that I should go for it?” You said incredulous.

Gaz held his hands up in surrender, “Yes, but that was before I knew everything. I just thought you were fucking the Captain at first, which is still completely idiotic. But it sounds to me like both of you are emotionally invested in each other.” He said putting his hands back down, “-And you're only here for a couple more months right? Just keep it on the down-low then you can do whatever you want. I'm like ninety percent sure that Price likes you too.”

You groaned, your head falling on the table with a clunk. “Only ninety percent?” Peeking up to look at him, his face morphing into one of scrunched wash cloth.

“Maybe like eighty-five. But those are still good odds in my book.” He said guiltily, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You're not helping.” You sighed, resuming your dramatic pity party. Gaz rolled his eyes at your antics, placing a comforting hand on your head and giving it an encouraging pat. “Hey, I'm not saying you have to do some big confession. All I'm doing is suggesting that communicating with him may bring some good. Like Soap said that one time, Price acts differently around you, I think you've got some good chances.”

You finally looked up at him again, his face a pitying smile. “Think about it.” He said finally, leaving you with more on your mind than you originally started with.

“Okay, I'll think about it.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Four months to go and nothing had happened. Well, not necessarily, the team had continued to train, your sneaking around with Price was still going, and the world kept spinning. Turns out that realizing one's feelings for another doesn't cause the sun to explode. Fascinating stuff.

However, there was still no confession of feelings of any kind. The two of you danced around your ‘relationship’ like it was a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode. Maybe it was for the greater good, some things were just better off unsaid.

In the meantime, your focus had shifted in light of new events that were fast approaching. You still cringed thinking of your first real mission back in Urzik, and while nothing horrible happened, it still left you with a sour taste on your tongue. There were small things 141 had been doing but now a new mission was right around the corner. There was still little to no word about rouge commander Shepard nor an explanation of the abandoned facility you had raided months back.

You still didn't even know if the two were connected, probably not. But it was still possible, maybe best not to think too hard about it. After all, you weren't the brains behind the operations, you were just the pon they sent to die in their place.

The air around 141 had become tense again, much like before Urzik. Everyone was on edge, especially Price. You were happy to take the edge off most of the time, but there were some things that sex just couldn't fix. And this fell into that category.

You were sitting on an office chair in one of the conference rooms around base. The rest of the team stood close to the large wooden table or sat in the other scattered chairs. The tension in the room was thick, nobody said a word. All focus was on Price, who stood a few feet apart from the group, flipping through a manilla folder. His eyebrows furrowed in tension and his lips pulled into a subtle frown.

He set the folder down, “We’re going back to Urzik.”

You could almost feel the shift in the mood from bad to worse. But before you could voice your complaints Soap beat you to it. “We’re going back to that shite hole? After what happened last time I would have assumed someone figured out that we should stay out of the terrorists and the Russians assholes.”

Price sighed, punching the bridge of his nose. “We don't know if they were terrorists back at the compound. And Urzik hasn't been under Russian occupation since 2019.” He said, earning a half laugh from both Soap and Ghost.

“Come on Cap, you don't even believe that crap they're pushing.” Soap chuckled, his arms crossed over his chest. Leaning against the wall behind you.

While it was true that Urzikstan had been liberated from Russian rule, some of the men under General Markov’s command had disappeared after his death. Leaving some loose ends for the CIA and SAS to clean up. There had been some word of Markov’s men teaming up with local militant groups who despised Urzik’s central government. But it wasn't confirmed, nor viable.

Price shook his head, “It doesn't matter if I believe it or not. The point is that we have a job to do and we’re not going to let past affairs get the better of our judgment.” He ran his hand over the scruff of his beard, “-Laswell wouldn't be sending us in again if she didn't have a good reason to. They have reasonable intel that just outside of Riyzabbi there's an abandoned bazaar where all of the goods from the compound were relocated.”

Ghost chimed in, “So they're sending us on the same wild goose chase they did before? Who's to say they don't pull the same shite as last time?”

You nodded along with his words, he had a point. Price grunted, waving him off. “Like I said before, they have better intel. I'm asking you to trust me, if I see anything I don't like we’re out. Whatever is in there, we have the means to put it to an end.”

Everyone fell silent, taking in the information. It was a while before anyone spoke again, Soap sighed. “If I have to eat that awful food back at checkpoint base I’m quitting on the spot.”

For a second the mood shifted, and you laughed, but the reality of the situation was hovering over you like a looming storm cloud.

For a brief moment, you locked eyes with Price, and his stare told you everything you needed to know. He was just as frustrated, if not more so. His gaze shifted again, staring down at the table with an intensity you couldn't fathom. “Everyone’s dismissed. We leave at 0500 in 72 hours.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

As Price said, 72 hours later, you were back in the air, flying to Urzikstan. An ache gnawed at the back of your head, making the already dreary ride more depressing. You were too uncomfortable to sleep and too tired to stay awake. Creating an odd out-of-body experience that you had the “pleasure” of basking in for the whole 5-hour flight.

After you had landed at the checkpoint base you took a moment to reacquaint yourself with the landscape. Not much had changed aside from a few new tents and other minor additions to the camp. You felt a sense of Deja Vu looking at the old dining hall tent and medical area. Memories from your and Price’s first kiss flooded your mind, under different circumstances, it might have been somewhat pleasant recounting the moment. But now, it only made you feel profoundly sad. It was nostalgic-back when everything was simpler between the two of you.

Whatever was bubbling up inside you, you shoved it down as far as it could go. Hating someone was a lot more straightforward than loving them.

You made your way to the ‘barracks,’ setting what little things you had onto the small cot. Everyone else was just as miserable as you were, obviously, this wasn't their first choice for sleeping quarters. A part of you wished it wasn't daytime, it would be easier to sleep away the anxiety and headache.

You had until dark to do as you pleased, when nightfall came, you were going to be loaded up into the trucks again. From there, you'd go to Riyzabbi, and once it was clear to do so, to the bazaar.

Just like the last time you were here, you felt a deep sense of dread. One that you couldn't pinpoint, nor could you explain away with ‘just nerves’. There was too much that you didn't know, and too little payoff. The only advantage 141 had was the element of surprise, and even that wasn't confirmed. A small part of you felt anger towards Laswell, she probably knew that there was something off about this mission, and yet she was sending you and the team directly into the pit of lions.

To quell the sense of impending doom, you started to wander around the checkpoint base. Not sure where you were going or what your end goal was, you continued walking. That was until you heard someone's voice bleeding out from one of the tent walls. Their tone was accusatory, malicious even, it was laced with so much venom you could feel your skin recoil. It didn't sound familiar, but the voice who came after it did.

“You know just as well as I do it's a suicide mission. I’m not sending my team out there to die. All for some fucking game of territory monopoly and protecting Shepard.”

Price.

The other voice spoke up again, seemingly more agitated than the first time if that was possible. “Shepard is gone, and he sure as hell isn't going to be here in Urzik. And It's not a suicide mission. The CIA hired your team to do a job, not back out when things get real. Your opinion on how the government deals with involvement concerning foreign enemy affairs has no merit, Captain. If it were up to me, your team wouldn't even be here, but Kate Laswell keeps you on a tight leash doesn't she?”

You heard a loud bang, akin to a hard fist being slammed onto flat wood. “Watch your mouth. You and your muppets can both go crawl back under the CIA’s boot. As for Laswell, you know just as well as I do she would be more than happy to bring you and rouge commander Shepard's previous associations to the attention of your government.”

There was silence for a beat. Suddenly you could feel your heart beating, pounding in your chest. Your fingers felt numb, and even time seemed to slow. You could say with 100% certainty that you were not supposed to be listening, you weren't even sure if you wanted to keep listening. You heard footsteps coming from the inside, in your peripheral vision, you caught the slight rustle of the tent door. Without thought you jumped out of sight, pressing yourself to the side of the tent just as a man stormed out.

You watched the back of his head as he muttered something, you held your breath. After a good minute, you exhaled, silently creeping out from where you stood. Something in you was telling you to leave, to pretend you had never heard what you did. But there was a magnetic pull that drew you back into Price.

Carefully, you peeked your head through the tent door. A few feet away was Price, his back was turned with his hand over his face, the other on his hip. Before you could speak he turned around to see you, his eyes growing twice the size. Time seemed to freeze for a second time, you watched his eyes go from surprise to anger, and then to exhaustion. By the look on your face, he most likely already knew what you were hiding.

“How much did you hear?” He sighed, rubbing his hand over his cheek.

You walked into the tent, standing awkwardly in front of the door. “Just the last part.” You confessed, swallowing what little bravery you had left.

Price didn't respond, his hand moving over his eyes to rub and smooth over his temples. His cheeks pulled in as he bit the inside of his mouth. “Right… well, I'm sorry you had to hear that.” He breathed, his voice more weary. A stark contrast to the raw anger you heard from him a few moments prior.

You shook your head, “Don't be sorry. At first, I was mad at you and Laswell for going through with this. But… I guess after that, I know you didn't want to either.” You tried your best to form a semblance of hope, giving him a drained smile. “Like you said, this mission is fucking suicide. But if anyone can lead the team and somehow come out alive, it's you.”

There was a flash of something in Price’s eyes, it was the same thing that you saw back on your walk with him months prior. You glanced down at his hands, watching the way they flexed. Like he was aching to hold, to touch something. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, “I’m sorry.” He breathed, “-I’m sorry that I'm putting you and the guys in this situation.”

Price’s hand came back up, dragging it across the side of his face. His eyes shut tight, eyebrows knit together. “It's just…the longer I stay here, doing this, the more it's clear to me none of it was for a greater good. And I don't want that for you.” He sighed, “-I…I want you to know there is a way out [Name]. You don't have to continue to do this.”

This made you draw back, Price had never sounded like this before. He sounded like he was already admitting defeat, and like he was giving you a chance to escape what you chose to do. Your eyebrows furrowed, marching straight up to him with your lips twisted in a frown. You reached up to pull his hand away from his face, your other hand reaching up to cup his cheek with your hand. Your palm pressed against his jaw, feeling the rough bristle of his beard under the pads of your fingers. Forcing him to look at you.

“Don’t do that.” You said sternly, making his eyes snap back. Looking at you with a mixture of surprise and confusion. “-Don’t act like everything is already set in stone, we don't know what's going to happen. It could go bad but it could also be fine. And you're also acting like I didn't choose to be here, I'm willing to do this job Price. Just because I don't like what shady shit someone is doing behind the scenes doesn't mean I'm going to back out.”

Price stared at you, and you stared back. Willing him to understand that you had hope for him, you had hope for the team. Maybe it was stupid to try and be strong, but if you didn't try, you'd be giving up too.

You couldn't leave, not now. Not when you had a reason to stay. As much as you hated the idea of someone sending you into a death trap, the only thing you hated even more would be leaving Price to go into said death trap. You couldn't pry yourself away from him even if you tried. Your hand squeezed his, I love you, the gesture said.

Price squeezed your hand back, “[Name], I-” I love you, his eyes said. You shook your head, staring back at him with the same intensity.

“I know.” You breathed back. You couldn't stand it, you wanted to hear the words from his mouth. You wanted it with everything in you, but this was probably the worst time you could think of to confess. So, you settled for a mutual understanding. A silent promise, that when you came back maybe things could be different.

There was another beat before he leaned in, and like an idiot, you let it happen. Your hand tightened slightly against his cheek, eyes fluttering shut as he kissed you. His lips were warm, and you sighed into his mouth as you got a taste of him. His mouth that tasted like smoke and whiskey, and you yearned for more. His body was charged with an electricity that sent shivers down your spine. Every brush, touch, and groan had you on edge.

Before you knew it, he was pushing you up against the table that sat in the middle of the room. Your hand slid down from his face to fist into his shirt as you were slowly backed against the wood. You should've pushed him off, it was too risky to be doing this now. It was mid-day for fucks sake, not only that but anyone could walk into the tent.

Yet something about the tension, exposed and raw like an open cable wire, held you back from protesting. Hell, if this was the last time you were going to see him outside of the field, mind as well go out with a bang (literally).

Price must've come to the same conclusion by the way he sat you down on the table, standing in between your parted thighs. His breath was heavy and his lips slick, taking you in with his eyes. “Fuckin’ Christ love, you're a vision. I don't say it enough, but you're gorgeous.” He murmured, breathless.

You felt your cheeks go hot, the warmth seeping up into your ears. Taking compliments was never your strong suit. Price pressed a chaste kiss on your forehead, his hands moving from your waist to the belt and zipper of your pants. His lips brushed against the shell of your ear, “Baby lay back for me.”

Well with that voice, you couldn't bear to not comply. You hesitantly lowered your back onto the flat wood of the table. Propping yourself on your elbows, watching as Price slowly pulled your pants down to reveal your undergarments. His eyes flickered to you then back to your covered pussy, an insatiable hunger in those pools of navy blue. He lowered to his knees, hooking your thighs under his biceps. Price pressed a few soft nips and kisses to the burning skin of your inner thighs, earning a few soft gasps on your part.

Your nails scraped against the wood, biting down on your lip to keep your voice down. With one hand, Price hooked his finger against the fabric of your panties, parting it to the side to show your soaked cunt. A small groan left him at the sight of you, he glanced back at you. “You’re gonna be quiet now right?”

Without a thought behind it, you nodded. Desperate to have his mouth on you, he leaned in, flattening his tongue to lick a long stripe up your folds. Your head fell back, eyes fluttering for a moment. When he started to swirl his tongue over your clit, you almost broke. “Price-” You gasped out, your voice a whisper.

He hummed against your cunt, suctioning his mouth against your clit. “No Price here, we’re far past that love. Use my name baby, use my name and I'll listen.” He murmured, the vibrations of his voice making your mind dizzy. One of your hands threaded into his short hair, guiding his face against your pussy.

“Fuck- John, feels good. Feels so good.” You whispered, your voice almost a mewl. His dull nails dug into the meat of your thigh, groaning softly as he lapped at your weeping cunt. Your eyes squeezed shut, all of your concentration honing in on trying not to moan out loud.

His tongue switched between fast flicks of your clit and drawn-out open-mouthed kisses to your mound. When you got more desperate you guided him to where you wanted, and John was happy to oblige.

Your back was now flat on the table, thighs locked around Price’s head like a boa constrictor. Your voice was now silent moans and labored breaths, and with every passing moment, it was harder to stay quiet. Your nails tugged at his hair, gripping onto him like a lifeline. John suddenly pushed his tongue into your hole without warning, pushing the tip of the muscle in and out with vigor. You nearly screamed, slapping a hand over your mouth to bite on your knuckle.

Price was devouring you like a man starving.

Your back arched off the wood of the table, methodically moving your hips in tandem with his tongues movements. The slurry of noises coming from John’s mouth and your cunt was obscene. Wet smacks of his lips mixed with small groans and deep gasps.

It felt like you were floating, your senses muddied beneath the feeling of his mouth. Your body was burning, a coil in your stomach just begging to snap. You bucked your hips into his face, begging him to quell the fires raging in your body. Price seemed to catch on, he held one of your thighs tight while the other slid between your legs. His mouth hovering over your pussy, he slipped a digit into your aching cunt.

You silently cried out, your core tightly gripping his finger as he curled it inside you. Then, he slowly worked in a second, mimicking the ‘come here’ motion with his fingers buried deep in your pussy. “Atta’ girl, little longer for me.” John breathed against you, his breath fanning against your cunt.

Suddenly he was on you again, swirling his tongue over your swollen bud while curling his digits in you. You could have died happy then and there, everything felt so good you couldn't think. Your nails dug into the table, marking it with long stripes.

Between his fingers and his tongue, you were a goner. Your vision went white, trying your hardest not to scream out to the heavens. “John- shit I can’t I'm gonna cum.” You whined through heavy pants, tears pooling in the corner of your iris from the stimulation.

“Come on then, cum for me. Let go love, cum on my mouth.” He murmured against your sopping pussy, flicking his tongue over your clit and speeding the movement of his fingers.

That was all it took before you came, hard. Your back arched and your head fell back, biting down on your hand so hard that it hurt. Your thighs shook as the wave of your orgasm crashed over you, white-hot and mind-blowing. And John fucked you through it, never letting up on his page until you fell limp like a bag of flour. After those precious few moments, he gently slid his fingers from your cunt. Pressing a soft kiss to your thigh before setting it down slowly.

You were gone. Your brain turned to mush, a daze of post-orgasm exhaustion and giddiness. Slowly you blinked your eyes back open, letting John slowly guide you back to a sitting position. He held the small of your back while his other hand held your face.

“You alright?” John murmured, his mouth shiny with your slick. You couldn't help but laugh, your forehead hitting his lightly.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm alright.” You breathed. The after-glow hit you hard, but there was still the looming anxiety of the mission. You knew the moment wouldn't last forever, you just hoped you could bask in it a little longer.

John sensed the shift, knowing it was his turn to be brave, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. His eyes soft, “Hey, like you said, we’re gonna be okay. Nothing is set in stone yet.” He whispered, making you nod.

“Right. We’re going to come out of this.” You said, more for yourself. He nodded, the both of you knew deep down it was wishful thinking. But maybe having something to hope for, something to come back to, would push you to fight even harder to keep it.

And in the end, you were willing to do anything to keep this.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Everything around you was dark, with an air pungent with dust and grime. The walls only grew bigger and shadowed as you passed, ducking behind doors and boxes to remain out of sight. Just like last time everyone was paired in either a group of two or three, you were with Ghost. You had to give him credit where credit was due, as large and burly as he was, he was silent as he moved.

The bazaar was large, with huge openings in the ceilings covered by hanging fabric. Open doors that connected rooms and massive lamps draped from the walls. It might've even been nice had it not been for its years of inactivity, and under the cover of night, it was simply eerie. Wires covered the walls and ceiling, some even hanging down low enough to snag someone if you weren't careful.

You weren't quite sure what exactly you were looking for, after all, you didn't know what this aforementioned ‘bio-chemical lab’ looked like. And if it was easily portable, it wouldn't exactly look like your standard chemistry lab.

“[Name].”

Ghost spoke into your headpiece, standing several feet away. You snapped out of your train of thought, looking back at him.

“Let’s get a move on, the others are on the top floor. I'm guessing it’s near the bottom, or even underground, be on high alert. There's bound to be people this time around.” He said, earning a nod from your end.

With that, you made your way further into the bazaar. Gun at the ready, you weaved through rooms and piles of storage and other junk. When you got to a large room on the north side of the building, tucked away between rubble and containers your body tensed. There wasn't anything unordinary about it, it looked exactly like every other room, but something felt off. A few steps into the space and you had your explanation for the uneasiness you felt.

With an odd thunk’ of your boot on the ground, you looked back at Ghost. He looked back at you, the same expression on his face, it was hollow.

You came off it, brushing your foot over the area again to remove the grime and dust. It was a different color and texture than the ground. “Well I’ll be damned, you were right.” You breathed, “-Think this opens up from the outside?” Ghost kneeled on the ground next to whatever you found. Pushing his hand over it and sending small clouds of dust into the air.

“Doesn't matter if it does.” He said, fishing out a knife from his bullet vest. Finding a dibet with his finger in the ground he wedged the blade in between the surface, pulling up until the ground lifted.

With a grunt, he wrapped his fingers around the edge of the trap door. Pulling until the structure revealed a human-sized rectangular hole in the ground. A latter peeking out from inside the ground pressed into the side of the dirt. You stared down at it, knowing this was it. Clicking your headpiece, you spoke, “Cap, we got something. Northside, ground floor, it’s a trap door in the last room.”

After a moment you got a response, “Copy. See what you can find, we’re coming. If you see anything don't think, just shoot. I want you and Ghost alive.” Price’s voice rang loud and clear in your ear.

With a nod, you looked back down at the hole, even with night vision, it was hard to make out the bottom. Ghost was the first to go down, with you following suit the minute he gave the all-clear to come down. Inside was dark and smelled like mildew, a tunnel leading further into the unknown. The same wires that hung down from up on the surface were strung about the dirt walls. It wasn't spacious in the tunnel, but it didn't make you feel claustrophobic.

Ghost raised his gun, nodding to you to follow as you made your way deeper. It wasn't long until you reached a door, it wasn't impenetrable by any means, but it was going to be a pain to get through. But the thing that caught your attention most was the faint light that peeked from the cracks of the hinges. Ghost looked at you, “Get back, and I’ll break the door, you follow in straight after and shoot at anything you see.”

As said, with a firm kick, Ghost kicked the door down. The metal swung open with a crackle, and with your gun at the ready, you quickly followed him inside. The first thing you heard was voices, panicked and deep. Your eyes met a man in the corner of the room, quickly scrambling up to his feet and reaching the rifle that lay in front of him. Just like you were told, you didn't think, you acted on instinct.

Your gun went off, and his body was forced back by the blow. Blood spattered the wall behind him, his head rolling limp on his shoulders. You heard another shot fired, looking over to Ghost who was in firing position, and then to the direction of his rifle. Another body, this one standing, keeled over onto the floor, pooling red onto the ground. A deafening silence followed after, you waited for more voices but they never came.

“Just two?” You said, looking between the two. “-and they don't look local.” You muttered, focusing on the pale skin and European features. You looked back to Ghost who was standing a few feet away. “-Think they might be Russian like Soap said?”

Ghost shrugged, “It's possible.” He gruffed, looking around the room. It was emptier than you expected, with a table, lamps, flasks, and a few weapons. Another voice rang out from somewhere in the cavern before you could look any further. Coming from another hallway that you had missed when you first saw the room.

You quickly ran against the wall near the hallway entrance, pressing yourself into the hard surface so you wouldn't be seen. Ghost followed suit, and not a second later another man ran out, rifle in hand. And just like before you fired, watching the body hit the ground like a sac of potatoes.

This one looked like he could be from Urzik. You looked back at Ghost, who pushed off the wall, ducking into the hallway. It wasn't long before you entered a much bigger cavern, full of boxes and equipment. Open containers of guns with ammunition, tables covered with cylinder-shaped lab equipment. You could hardly classify this as a lab, more like a glorified basement with makeshift tools. Large computers also lined what little space they could occupy. Florescent overhead lights cast the room in a putrid dimish glow.

Before you had time to react a bullet brushed past your arm. Sending a burning shock through your system. You ducked, trying to avoid what you couldn't see.

“They're shooting!” You yelled out to Ghost, finding refuge in a large container that you hid behind.

You looked around, desperate to see where the firing was coming from. Your eyes caught three at first glance, one person across the room, hiding behind another container. Another fired from a doorway, and the last one hid behind a table. All three aiming for either your box of Ghost. Your hands held your gun with an iron grip, turning your knuckles white.

You peeked out from behind the container, aiming for the second guy in the doorway. Your first shot missed, but your second shot straight through his forehead. Ghost, from wherever he was, took out the third guy from behind the table. Leaving the one behind the other container, peaking back out you felt another bullet fly past you. You scrambled back, your heartbeat hammering in your chest.

You called out to Ghost, “I can't get him! You're gonna have to take the last one!” After another shot to your hiding place, chipping the wood of the contained, Ghost called back.

“Copy! I've got him!” He yelled, a final shot echoing through the cavern before everything fell into an eerie silence. You tentatively rounded the corner of the container, looking back at the first guy's hiding spot. When all you saw was his body flat on the ground, you breathed a sigh of relief.

You heard Ghost call to you again, “[Name], you hurt?” You stood up, looking over in the direction of his voice. He was behind one of the walls of the hallway, pressed against the dirt wall.

“No, I'm all good. You?” You said back, scanning him for any sign of injury. He shook his head, letting his gun fall to his side.

“I'm clear.” He said, walking out from the hallway. You looked back at the three bodies adorning the floor, which made six in total so far. These three also looked like they were locals, you walked over to one. Moving your foot to hover over their hand, you kicked the gun away, staring at the blackened tattoo on his palm. Before, Soap had mentioned that rebel groups in Urzik shared a tattoo on their palms. Much like a gang tattoo, it united them under a common collective.

You looked back at Ghost, “What do Urzik terrorists have to do with us? If this really is a problem with uprisings against their government, why would the SAS and the CIA get involved?”

Your mind flashed to the conversation between Price and the commander back at the checkpoint base. He had said that if it had been up to him, 141 would never have been involved. Laswell had been the one to push for the team's involvement, even with its potholes. Then came Shepard, whose disappearance had led to your involvement with the team in the beginning. The only link to this you had to Shepard was his name being mentioned back at base.

Jesus, your head hurt just trying to think about it.

Ghost walked over to you, “My advice wouldn't be to think too hard about it [Name]. We’re doing a job, thinking about shite like this leads into a bigger rabbit hole than you think.”

You nodded, a frown settling onto your lips. Nothing about this sat right with you, but that was the cost you paid for being here in the first place.

“The important thing is, we located the lab. Now we just make sure there's nobody else so someone else can pick up the mess over here.” He said, making you nod along with him. Price and the other guys would probably be down any minute, that would make clearing everything out a hell of a lot easier.

You looked back at the man on the ground, staring into the fleshy eyes that held no light. You were reminded of the compound, staring into the eyes of the man who had shot Price’s foot. You didn't feel sorry, more hollow.

Ghost turned his back, looking over to the entranceway hall. And the split second for him to turn around was all it took for something to go wrong all over again. With no warning, you felt something burn your side, sharp and hot like lava. A hand yanked you back, snaked around your neck, and held you back to something firm. You could barely choke out a gasp, the thorn in your side sending shocks of pain through your body you didn't even know was possible.

Something cold pressed against your temple, you could barely process what was happening before you heard a click. Ghost whipped around at the noise, immediately holding up his rifle to whatever was behind you.

For a brief moment, time stopped. You were all too familiar with what was happening, you were being held at gunpoint. Nobody moved, Ghost's voice suddenly echoing through the silent room. “Shepard. Let her go.” He said.

You blinked, Shepard? Fuck, you didn't see that coming. You thought maybe he had a small part in the involvement, but you didn't expect him to actually be here. You tried to look at him, but his arm around your throat only tightened, making you squirm. The thing in your side, most likely a knife, only seemed to hurt more the longer it was left sticking out of you.

“Drop your gun, and I will.” His voice was cold, it sounded like sandpaper. His breath made your nostrils recoil in disgust.

Ghost shook his head, his eyes darting between yours and the man holding you. “You and I both know that's not happening.” The barrel of the gun pressed into your skin harder, making you wince. Your hands clawing at his arm to pry him off your neck.

“If you don't drop that gun, I will kill this one. And that's a promise.” He said, your body felt numb, and the lack of oxygen only seemed to make you all the weaker. You heard voices from beyond the hallway, your mind screaming for John. You needed him, you needed him to come and fix the mess you had gotten yourself into. Being a hostage was by far your least favorite activity.

Ghost swallowed, still pointing his gun at Shepard. “Shepherd, it's in your best interest that you let her go. You're not getting out of this, you know that. You shoot her and it’s just another kill added to your list of crimes, let’s not lengthen that sentence.”

Shepard snarled, “I'll be damned if I'm sent to prison, we can do this all-day lieutenant. You pull that trigger, and I fire. If you put the gun down, maybe we can negotiate something.”

You tried gasping for air, your airways closing up. Nails clawing at his shirt, like a caged animal trying to get out of its enclosure. From your squinted eyes you could make out the form of Price, Gaz, and Soap entering the room, guns at the ready. The pain in your side fired back up again as the blade twisted, making you yelp.

“Shepherd put the fucking gun down!” You absentmindedly recognized John's voice, your vision growing fuzzier by the second.

You tried your best to fight, thinking of anything you could to stay conscious. You thought of your friends, family, and John. Between the knife in your side, the gun against your head, and his arms around your throat it was a miracle you could even think. You blinked again, gasping for more air. You saw Ghost and Price, Soap a few feet away, Gaz must've been somewhere in the room as well.

“Get back or she's dead!” Shepard barked, his voice ringing in your ear. You saw blotches of black in your vision, your body slowly losing its feeling.

As you blacked out, you heard a gunshot fire.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

A white light flooded your vision, making your face scrunch up in discomfort. It was harsh and almost painful, you tried shutting your eyes as tight as they could go, but it was burned into your retinas.

Your limbs felt sluggish, you couldn't lift your arms. It seemed like you could only move your face, after another minute of trying to shut out the light, you gave up. Blinking your eyes open, you saw said white light hanging down from an even whiter ceiling.

“Holy shit, you're awake.” A female voice said, making you halt. You knew that voice, your eyes darted to the sound. Turing your head from its apparent, laying position to follow your gaze. Your eyes met an older woman, she had bangs and blondish hair.

“Laswell?” You croaked, your voice was shot. It sounded like a frog, making you internally cringe.

Kate Laswell stood at the foot of your bed, her hands grabbed at your arm. “Don’t talk [Name], the nurse said you shouldn't be using your voice for the next couple of days.” She scolded. You grunted, your throat felt as dry as the Sahara.

The pain slowly started to come back, a deep-seated ache that made you wince. “What happened?” You breathed. Your mind was fuzzy, the last thing you remembered was being in the bazaar and being held at gunpoint by Shepherd.

Laswell pursed her lips in a line, obviously not too thrilled about the events that transpired. “Well, John told me after you passed out they managed to disarm Shepard. But by that point, you were already gone, so they got you out. After that, you were transported to the checkpoint base and now you're in the hospital.”

You were following up until the hospital part, last time you checked, the checkpoint base didn't have a full-fledged hospital. “Hospital where?” You croaked, looking at Laswell for an answer.

“D.C,” She said plainly, almost like it was obvious. “It was the easiest place I would be able to keep an eye on you until you woke up.”

You barely had the energy to be surprised, “Oh.” Was what you settled on. “Where is the rest of the team?” You asked.

She sighed, “John is here. Garrick and Ghost are still in Urzik for another day, they have other matters they need to sort out first. Soap also came here with you, though he's not in the hospital.”

You nodded along, a small part of you relaxed when you heard John's name. He was here, which meant he was most likely safe. Your eyes closed, “oh, good then.” You sighed, your voice a whisper. Any louder and it would sound like your vocal cords were being torn to ribbons.

Laswell looked down at you, a sadness in her eyes. Almost guilt, “[Name].” She said, grabbing your attention again, “-I’m pulling you off the team early.”

You froze, your eyes doubling in size. Maybe you misheard her, 141 was your family, she couldn't just pull you off. You still had a few more months with them! “What? Why?” You asked throatily.

She looked at you incredulously, “Because you almost died. Honestly, it was my fault in the beginning, I shouldn't have put you in the situation.” Your eyes narrowed, you tried to sit up but she placed a firm hand on your chest to keep you from doing so.

“Laswell, I’m fine. I don't need to be taken off 141, everyone in the world has probably had a near-death experience.” You protested, “-I want to keep being on the team, I know at first I was only doing this as a favor but I'm not anymore.”

Laswell looked at you, a bit stunned. Her eyes stared into yours, deciphering if you were really telling the truth. “Are you sure? I was only going to do it because I believed that is what’s in your best interest. But are you positive this is what you want? Even after what happened?”

You stared back at her, determined as ever. “I'm positive.”

There was a beat of silence before Laswell sighed, rubbing her face. “Okay,” she breathed. “But you're still not allowed to participate in anything until you're fully healed.” Your demeanor relaxed again, almost sinking into the mattress. It was a win, a small one, but a win nonetheless.

You looked back at her, “You said Price was here right?” You asked, trying your best to hide the eagerness in your tone.

She nodded, “Yes, he's outside. He's been coming with me to check on you.”

You could've run out of bed at that exact moment, from the first minute you'd woken up he was occupying half of your thoughts. “Could I talk to him…?” You asked, trying to disguise your desperation.

Laswell gave you a pointed look, obviously, she knew more than what she was letting on. “You have ten minutes, then I'm pulling him out so you can get more rest.”

You thanked her profusely, waiting in anticipation for John to walk through the door. You shimmied up into a sitting position, trying not to irritate the stitches in your side. After a minute, your captain walked through the door. His hair was a bit tousled, and his beard had been trimmed, but there were large bags under his blue eyes. Clad in an army-green cotton shirt with jeans. He was a sight for sore eyes that was for sure.

After a minute of staring he bolted across the room, enveloping you in a tight embrace. His hand holding the back of your head to his chest and his other arm wrapped around your back. You weakly tried to hug him back, inhaling his scent.

“You have no idea how worried I was.” He breathed, pulling away to get a good look at your face. His hands cupped your jaw like a precious jewel. You smiled, laughing to the best of your ability.

“Well, I'm alive. That's saying something.” You breathed, taking him in. You’d barely spent any time away from him, yet you missed him, you needed his presence like you needed air. “Nobody can kill me that easy, not even Shepard.”

He looked at you, unimpressed by your attitude, “I wouldn't boast your level of confidence for someone in a hospital bed.” He deadpanned. You simply waved him off, but a question popped into your mind before you could say anything.

“Hey, what was Shepherd doing there anyway? I know you mentioned him earlier but I still don't understand why he was involved.” You asked, making him sigh.

John rubbed his neck, leaning back a little from his position. “If I'm being honest? I don't know either, I had a feeling he would be there but I wasn't positive. My best guess would be that he probably got involved with Markov's goons after he went rogue. After they must've teamed with underground gangs to keep tabs on what the CIA was up to.” He looked back at you, “A few people from the inside still had communication with him, that was most likely how we got the tip-off that he was in Urzik.”

You hummed, mostly glad you could put Urzik behind you. It was over and that was all that mattered, “So what happens now?” You asked.

Price raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“What happens now that you caught him?” You clarified. Staring at him curious.

John shrugged, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Well Shepherd is dead, he died during the altercation back in Riyzabbi. As for the team, we go back to normal. A few people who had relations with Shepherd are being tried in international court for unauthorized communication with enemies. But that's it, as far as I know.”

You hummed, letting your eyes flutter shut. Basking in the feel of his thumb against your skin, “Mm, and us…?” You asked, feeling a bit brave.

You felt him halt, “Well, you obviously know we can't exactly be public about this.” You opened your eyes back up to him, “-But, I don't think I can really deny what I feel for you.”

Your lips curled into a warm smile, one that seemed to say ‘I love you.’ John traced the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip, ‘I love you’ the gesture said.

“I love you.” You said, unable to hold yourself back from uttering the words any longer.

John smiled, “I love you too.”

Pulling you in for a chaste kiss, you smiled against his lips. Your nose brushed his, his eyelashes tickling your skin.

You were going to be just fine.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Hey, don't go!

Okay first things first, I want to say a HUGE thank you to everyone who liked, commented, reposted, or send me kind messages on my last post. I never thought I would reach 1,000 likes but you guys work miracles! It literally means the world to me.

Second, so sorry for the long wait. I know it was awhile but I’m balancing my classes, social life, and my writing so it gets hectic sometimes. But I appreciate you for having patience in me, I want to ask if you would be so kind as to like, repost, or leave a comment! It really helps, more than you know.

Lastly, you definitely haven’t seen the last of me yet. There is more content coming! It might take a bit but I am working hard to please you ;) and with that I hope you enjoyed Captains Girl Part II, I love you all! Toodles ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ̀ˋ 💕

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Taglist

@rafaelacallinybbay @nellabear @z03ch4n @evashi @freshlemontea @fanfin-glutton @achbbys000 @glitteryarcadefart @lveegsoi @hippopotamusdreamer @matixity @eternallyvenus @simplyymee98 @pinkfqiry @fraserbraw @gibbsgirl7 @blackhawkfanatic @thecursebreaker @scaryplanetdestroyer @spicyspicyliving @locker-130 @moranguito0 @whos-fran @whisperwispxx @slut-lmao @thriving-n-jiving @nexthyperfix @juliat398 @ninaak @sleepyghxul @ravenmoore14 @angelicccdesire

So sorry if you weren’t tagged and you wanted to be, some of the usernames weren’t showing up!

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Part I of… Captains Girl: ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Thank you

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

[brain-r0tten]

okay so I was sick and dying for the past few days but now that I'm feeling better drawing doesn't feel like a chore anymore woohoo

I have 2 more arts almost ready (art trade and meet the artist) as well so stay tuned for that!

as for the comic- (ramble about my SPTO sona below)

I tried to think more about Nate and at first I wanted em to be Scott's classmate cuz I love their gang as well buuuut I think it'd be weird to fall for someone who punched your friend to death lmao (maybe gonna do like an alternate timeline where they're in a relationship with Scollace and not PatelGraves and go along with my original idea)

So in this AU Nate is Roxie's classmate! I love her as well. They have a queerplatonic relationship and are really close, so Roxie told him about the league in passing conversation, Nate was curious and had nothing to do so he convinced her to visit Rockit when Matthew Patel was gonna fight Scott. Roxie briefly told him about Mattie and Nate got interested bc- theater kid? pirate?? emo???

He doesn't have many friends aside Roxie and he wanted to come out of his shell so this was a perfect occasion to do so. Surface level he's pretty confident and (maybe??) charming but his anxiety still lingers, especially when he's around people he puts on the pedestal (don't do that chat it's a major character flaw) and a pirate emo theater kid sounds like the perfect candidate for that.

The pages start right after he defeated Scott (the scene where he's yelling "WHAT'S GOING ON??") but I also planned to do one page before that where you'd see Nate and Roxie's conversation. Buuuut those 2 already took enough time so imagine it's an awesome cool page by just looking at the dialogue aight??

They'd sit somewhere in the corner to see the whole thing, after it was over and everyone went their way, Roxie would push Nate towards Mattie where the finished page starts

(Nate is red, Roxie is violet)

Also Nate/Matthew ain't really infatuated with the other one yet, they're just very excited for someone to talk to (they're both losers at this point)

[josiebelladonna]

treating fanfic as professional writing (i.e., to be marketed) is what’s caused major damage to fandom spaces.

also, you have the phrase “don’t like, don’t read” which has lived long enough to see itself become the villain, as you have:

people who think someone in the comments telling them their grammar needs to be better or it’s hard to follow (you know, really small fixable things) as “hate”; people who write the same stories as their peers have written over and over again, to the point you can’t tell any of them apart, and they think this sentiment is “hate”; an entire generation of people who don’t bother to learn websites like ao3, how they function, and they resultantly abuse it and put an inordinate amount of stress on it, and act like someone calling them out on it as “hate”; people calling someone out on plagiarism is “hate” (true story); people who got a 1000 hits on one of their fics and now expect everyone to kiss up to their every whim, and think anyone on the outside who tells them to kiss my ass is “hate” (true story); people who continually preach “don’t like, don’t read” and istg, every time they do, you can smell the egoism and the holier-than-thou nature a mile away (they’re like *I* would nEvEr do this~)

it’s not just expectation. it’s a myriad of factors that have done, imo, irreversible damage to fandom, one of these things is thinking the world revolves around you, and i feel that has more to do with the effect social media has done than anything.

At some point "fanfic can be as good as professional writing" became "fanfic should be as good as professional writing" and that's caused major damage to fandom spaces.

[akuma-tenshi]

finished closing night!! boy do i have some thoughts. and now that i've gathered them, i'm about to make my autism your problem. spoilers below.

the first part of the event wasn't awful imo, it felt like character building and just helping establish the dynamic. i know some people weren't fond of it but given that i was never really that invested in hullabaloo before this and didn't know every little detail of these characters, it was nice to get some character establishment and figure out how they all are as people. i am also a fan of slowburn character-focused horror, so that may just be a personal taste thing lmao

bryce papenbrook does a good job as mike, even though there are definitely points where he sounds exactly like nagito (namely the scene where he's shouting at margaretha in the foyer). he has a very particular way of speaking / voicing characters that make it immediately clear it's him. however, i do think he fits mike well and he definitely lays off the nagito-ness in the second part.

the rest of the cast was excellent as well. while there was a Choice made with murro's voice (he sounds WAY younger than he's supposed to be, which is off-putting and takes me out every time he speaks), it's very clear everyone knows their characters well and they all do a good job keeping their mannerisms and vocalisations unique and fitting to each role. aside from some awkward lines (which i attribute more to stilted writing than to the va's themselves), the voice acting is absolutely a highlight.

margaretha's trauma with sergi is portrayed very well imo. bear in mind i have not suffered the same abuse as her, so i can't say how accurate or good it is, but it feels like it displays that it was a terrible thing while also being respectful and avoiding being exploitative. the added layer that everyone else (except joker) liked sergi and was unaware of the abuse adds a lot.

in general, i think mike and margaretha are incredibly well-written here. i think ne could've absolutely gone the route of popular fan interpretations and completely demonised margaretha while making mike a perfect angel, and they would've gotten a lot of praise for it. but they stuck to their guns and made them both very flawed yet understandable people, and that just makes everything feel that much more real, at least to me. they're such different people with opposing goals, and their friction really comes through. everyone else is very well done (shoutout to me a couple of hours ago calling joker cute for some godforsaken reason i can't remember) and i love all of their characterisations, but mike and margie really are the standouts here.

i do wish there was a bigger payoff for margaretha using euphoria so frequently. i know it's implied to have been involved in violetta's death, and i appreciate the connection to game 5, but i wish there was a little bit more there. it's not a huge gripe though, so i won't harp on it for long.

the pacing at the start of the second part had me extremely worried; things felt like they were dragging along and being padded out for the sake of being padded out, and i was not having fun with it. fortunately, this issue was remedied about halfway through, and once things got going, i started really enjoying myself. the pacing of the first half of part two is my biggest gripe with this story.

i was noticing a lot of similarities between hullabaloo and fool's gold: hunter forms of popular survivors being announced and used as a major part of marketing for an update to the idv story. with the aforementioned pacing issues, i was really worried that hullabaloo's reveal would shape up to be similar to fg's: a kinda cool cutscene and a lame chase sequence at the very end of a long, boring storyline. however, despite hullabaloo having a much smaller part in this story than fg did in aom, appearing only briefly in the fire at the very end, i still think it's a better incorporation of the character than what they did with norton. better to have it be quick and intimidating than just kinda tedious.

every death in this (aside from joker's) felt very purposeful and well-done. violetta's death was heartbreaking. the change in animation towards the end, followed by the single sound of her machinery giving out after the screen went black, was beautiful, and hey, at least she died happy. margaretha's death pulled at a very specific and very major love i have in storytelling, that being a character choosing to die free rather than live in captivity, and the payoff of all the underwater scenes where she swims towards sergi finally coming through when she chooses to sink away from him had me losing my mind. i genuinely did not expect mike's death to be a straight-up suicide; like i said, i'm not completely caught up on hullabaloo lore, so maybe other people saw this coming, but the fact that he truly could not live with the truth about hullabaloo is such a heartwrenching yet satisfying end to his character. like i said, joker's is the only death that doesn't totally stand out, but i like that they let you put the pieces together yourself.

the chase sequence with joker was unintimidating and a little lame, and honestly it felt somewhat forced, just a way to get his hunter form in there bc they realised "oh shit right this guy's like. a hunter isn't he." i do like that they gave him back his chainsaw though; very nice little callback to the betas.

the animation of the hullabaloo fire was absolutely gorgeous and the ending had me in shambles. for a while afterwards i felt similar to how i felt after finishing end roll: drained and flat but in a good way, like a ton of adrenaline had just released from my body after some intense event.

all in all, i really enjoyed it. i can't say if i like it more than aom, but that may be the frederick bias coming through, so i'm going to choose not to rank them and just say hey. banger event. well worth the hype even with its hiccups and flaws. i always say this, but idv has some genuinely talented people in its writers' room, and i can't wait to see what they come out with next.

[iloveelvisss]

Lovestruck (an Elvis fic/imagine)

Pairing: yandere!Elvis x Reader

Summary: It’s 1975 and Linda has rejected Elvis’ proposal, leaving him drug dependent. Worried and frustrated, his family and Linda get an in-home nurse to get him back on track with his health. But what happens when Elvis mistakes her kindness for love?

Warnings/Triggers: this is a yandere fic so expect dark themes such as, obsessive, compulsive, manipulative, crazed behavior. Elvis is delusional. References to sex and baby making. Forced marriage, and slight kidnapping? References to the colonel.

Priscilla left. And Elvis believed he was heartbroken, keyword: believed. And he sulked and sulked and sulked for weeks.

But then Linda came around. He was convinced he was in love with her, letting her move in and redecorate his house and make friends with his baby daughter. He even thought about proposing. But she said she wasn't sure if that's what she wanted.

And while she was a good distraction at first, when she rejected his proposal, the drugs became more of a distraction to him. And he made it okay by telling himself that drugs couldn't tell him no.

And that's how it went for the longest time. But people were worried. His family was worried— even baby Lisa knew something was up with her daddy.

So Linda, armed with everyone else's concern, took matters into her own hands. She called so many doctors and rehabilitation centers, and eventually she got a nurse to agree to live in at Graceland to try and get him off all the pills.

•

You walk into the grand house, following the gorgeous woman. She's sweet, has a good character and you can tell from just talking the few words you have.

The house looks different from the pictures that were once in the pages of a tabloid, with Elvis on the couch with a guitar. Back then the house was light, with royal blues and whites, but now it was like a vampire's lair— all red and gold.

"I just want to say thank you. We've tried to get him to go to rehab, but he refuses every time."

You smile sweetly at Linda. This is the first job that could actually mean something for you, and you feel as though you should be the one saying thank you. Before this opportunity, you were prescribing solutions to trust fund teens in California who got ahold of drugs at their high school parties. It was a good job, but you wanted more— you went to school for more. You felt as though your talents could be put to better use, and this was that breakthrough you were looking for since you graduated college.

"No, this is an honor, seriously. And sometimes it's better for people of his caliber to be kept away from prying eyes in times like these. Going to a center would put him at more of a risk for a press leak." You sit down with her as you make it to the living room, and there you find Elvis' father as well. He stands and shakes your hand.

You sit with them and talk about plans and the goals they have for his recovery, and all the while, you're stuck wondering why the man himself isn't here. This is a meeting about his health, after all. But they don't mention it, so you don't either.

And once they're satisfied with everything, Linda shows you to what's going to be your room for the next however many months.

An hour later, you go down to dinner, not expecting Elvis because Linda informed you that he usually took his dinner in his room nowadays. But to everyone's surprise, about halfway into the meal, the stairs creak, and almost immediately his presence engulfs you. Your eyes widen and you instantly stand up, still not quite believing that you're in the same room as your favorite singer.

His eyes scan the room before they zero in on you; it takes your breath away completely. And because of the nerves wracking your body, you give him the most awkward smile ever, mentally scolding yourself for being so stupid. He's human just like you. That's what you repeat to yourself over and over as he slowly stalks over to you from around the table.

Everyone— the few members of the Memphis mafia that decided to stay for dinner, Linda, Vernon, the cook who was plating the food— all stare with bated breath, all of them knowing how Elvis feels about rehab. He doesn't believe he has a problem. "Well what do we have here, hm? Ya sneak through the gate, honey?"

It takes you a minute to shake yourself from your trance, but once you do you shake your head. You're acting like a little girl that's seeing Santa Claus for the first time. "N- no, sir... pardon me, my name is Y/N," you stick your hand out for him to shake, "I'm your new nurse."

Linda winces and you shoot her a confused look. She expected him to blow up, or for his jaw to tick, or for him to say something snide— anything other than the gentle smile that graces his lips. He takes your hand and places a kiss on the back. Vernon clears his throat awkwardly. What is happening, you wonder to yourself. Everyone is acting like they're at a funeral. Except Elvis. He's acting like he got the latest Cadillac model.

Bless Linda's poor heart, and the fact that she can tell you innocently have no clue what the look in her boyfriend's eyes is. If she were anyone else, she'd want to tear your hair out. But she keeps quiet, just grateful that he's taking the news well. "Well I'll be damned, I didn't know I was sick. Honey, am I sick?" His eyes turn to Linda— only for a split second before they're piercing into you again. Is this love at first sight... because it sure seems like it to Elvis. He had to talk to all the other girls for at least a day before he felt something. Linda bats her eyelashes, "it's just in case, E, that's all. Gotta have ya perfect for the stage, yeah?"

He hums, and then finally lets your hand go. He gestures to your chair and then sits at the head of the table that's conveniently beside you. "Welcome then, Y/N."

You smile, this time a lot more gracefully, and then sit like he did. "Well why y'all starin' like dummies? Eat." He instructs everyone at the table, and like little minions, they all obey.

But he talks to you. About everything under the sun. And during such a time, you both come to an agreement on what he needs to do differently in order to maintain his health. A nice and easy regiment that should keep him from facing very terrible withdrawals. He seems to like you, or maybe he's just a really nice guy, but either way, you decide you're going to really enjoy staying here.

Weeks pass much the same. You like being friends with Elvis, and you realize that he's extremely humble and down to earth, not at all like the negative press he gets. You get a solid routine down; once a day, you give him a checkup, and you also lessen his pill intake everyday until he's down to strictly only what he actually needs. And much to the Colonel's dismay— a man you deemed icky the first time you met him— Elvis fires Dr. Nick and takes on a doctor you personally recommend.

•

Elvis knew this time. And despite his earlier feelings, he was mentally thanking Linda for rejecting him. And whether or not you liked it, you were going to be his.

You were his guardian Angel. That had to be it. You were saving his life. Of course he had a problem, and now he knew it. You were sent to him by God and were there to save him. He knew it. He knew that had to be the truth. Why else would you be so willing to better such a man?

Oh, and the way you smiled at him. The way your eyes lingered on him. The way you so very clearly wanted to be his. He wasn't blind, and the way you always looked at him with a twinkle in your eyes, that had to be you pleading for him to take you away— make you his. And once he knew for sure his plan would work, he'd do just that. He'd save you just the same way you saved him. And you'd be together, like you both wanted. Forever.

His hands would linger. When you'd check his blood pressure and breathing, he'd put his hand on your shoulder. And you never told him no, you never pushed him away. And he knew signs when they were given— you were definitely giving him signs.

There was this language between the two of you, a silent pining. He knew it. 'Just a while longer, angel. We'll be together.' It was a mantra inside his head every second of every day.

Four months into your residency as Elvis liked to call it, and fours months of mutual pining, Elvis knew it was time. He put his plan into action. You came home from the pharmacy to see bags in the foyer— your bags. With tears in your eyes, you walked up the stairs, "Elvis? Hello?"

You paused as he walked out of his room, looking the picture of health and happiness. He could see the confusion written all over your face. He was about to explain when you cut him off. "M' fired? Ya want me to leave?"

And then he saw resolution mix in with the emotions filling your face. You dry your tears. "Well thank you for the opportunity. It was great, and I hope I helped you well enough, Mr. Presley." You seemed almost fine with the idea, just a little beaten up about losing a job. But he knew better, you were playing hard to get.

"Mr. Presley? Baby, don't call me that, Mr. Presley is my daddy. Can't ya tell? We're goin' away... you and me." He grabbed your hand, a smile painting his face.

And there was that confusion again, and if he weren't so crazy, he'd also see that the look he thought was love was actually a little bit of fear. He'd been extra touchy and sweet, but you thought that was just the type of person he was. But now you could tell that he was just rather crazy. What did he mean going away? You were his nurse. "What're you talking about, Elvis?"

"C'mon, darlin' let's not dance around this no more. I see the way ya look at me— we're in love." He grins wolfishly, his grip tightening. He looks down at your lips.

You shake your head slowly, your eyes widening. You take a step back, looking behind you for any sign of anyone else, but it's then that you realize the house is eerily silent except for the two of you. He pulls you back, your face making contact with his chest. His free hand tangles into your hair and tilts your face so you can look at him. "Angel, I know moving away seems scary, but we can be together. We can start that life we both want, hm? I know ya feel the same, ya don't gotta say it right now."

And you can't even say anything or even try and run because he's got you thrown over his shoulder and in his car within minutes. He buckles you in and gets in the drivers seat after instructing Sonny to load your stuff into another car and to meet him at the airport.

He looks at you from the rear view mirror with a crazed smirk, one he thinks is harmless and loving. "How's Vegas sound, angel? We can get married in a chapel and ya can watch my shows every night, and we'll make Lisa Marie a big sister. I can tell yer beggin' for me to make ya a mama," his fingers drum on the steering wheel as he speeds through Memphis to the airport, "Oh yeah, I can see it now. Ya won't leave the bed for months after we get hitched. And I'll make this one last 'cause yer my soulmate. I was a dumb sonofabitch for thinkin' it was Cilla."

And as you stare at him through the mirror, tears fighting to fall from your eyes, you realize that this is one situation you don't think you can get out of. You screwed up.

Heyyy lovies! So I wrote this today because I wanted to read a fic like this but I couldn’t find one, so I just wrote it myself. First time writing darker themes, so bear with me if it’s not that good. Enjoy anyway, or at least I hope. Much love❣️ (I also just wanted an excuse to use that picture because he looks so scrumptious in it).

[ruhua-langblr]

Language Apps Suck, Now What?: A Guide to Actually Becoming "Fluent"

The much requested sequel to my DL post that was promised almost a year ago.

I'm going to address all of the techniques that have helped me in my language learning journeys. Since 95% of these came from the fact that in a past language learning mistake, they are titled as my mistakes (and how I would/did things differently going forward). For those that read to the bottom there is a "best universal resources" list.

Disclaimers:

"Fluency" is hard to define and everyone has their own goals. So for the purpose of this post, "fluency" will be defined as "your personal mastery target of the language".

If you just want to pick up a bit of a language to not sound like a total foreigner on vacation or just exchange a few words in a friend's native language, feel free to ignore what doesn't apply, but maybe something here could help make it a little easier.

This is based on my own personal experience and (some) research.

Mistake 1: Asymmetrical Studying

Assuming you don't just want to do a single activity in a language, or are learning a language like ASL, a language requires 4 parts to be studied: Speaking, Listening, Writing, Reading. While these have overlap, you can't learn speaking from reading, or even learn speaking from just listening. One of my first Chinese teachers told me how he would listen to the textbook dialogues while he was biking to classes and it helped him. I took this information, thought "Yeah that's an idea, but sounds boring" and now regret not taking his advice nearly every day.

I think a lot of us find methods we enjoy to study (mine was reading) and assume that if we just do that method more ™ it will eventually help us in other areas (sometimes it does, but that's only sometimes). Find a method that works for you for each area of study, even better find more than one method since we use these skills in a variety of manners! I can understand a TV program pretty well since I have a lot of context clues and body language to fill in any gaps of understanding, but taking a phone call is much harder—the audio is rougher, there's no body language to read, and since most Chinese programs have hard coded subtitles, no subtitles to fall back on either. If I were to compare the number of hours I spent reading in Chinese to (actively) training my listening? Probably a ratio of 100 to 1. When I started to learn Korean, the first thing I did was find a variety of listening resources for my level.

Fix: Find a variety of study methods that challenge all aspects of the language in different ways.

A variety of methods will help you develop a more well-rounded level of mastery, and probably help you keep from getting bored. Which is important because...

Mistake 2: Inconsistent Studying

If there is one positive to a language app, it is the pressure it puts on keeping a streak. Making studying a part of your everyday routine is the best thing you can do. I benefited a lot from taking a college language course since I had a dedicated time to study and practice Chinese 5 days out of the week (and homework usually filled the other two). Memorization is a huge part of language learning, and stopping and starting is terrible for memorization. When I was in elementary school, we had Spanish maybe a couple times a month. Looking back, it seems like it was the first class to be cut if we needed to catch up on a more important course. Needless to say, I can't even speak Spanish at an elementary level.

However, I'm sure many people reading this don't have the time to do ultra-immersion 4-hour study sessions every day either. Find what days during the week you have time to focus on learning new vocab and grammar, and use the rest of the week to review. This can be done on your commute to school/work, while you do the dishes, or as a part of your morning/evening routine. Making this as realistic as possible will help you actually succeed in making this a habit. (Check this out for how to set realistic study goals)

Fix: Study regularly (ideally daily) by setting realistic goals. Avoid "binge" studying since remembering requires consistent repetition to be most effective.

Mistake 3: Resource Choice

This is really composed of two mistakes, but I have a good example that will cover them both.

First, finding resources that are at or slightly above your level is the most important thing. Easy resources will not challenge you enough and difficult resources will overwhelm you. The ideal is n+1, with n as what you know plus 1 new thing.

Second, getting distracted by fancy, new technology. Newer isn't always better, and there are often advantages that are lost when we've made technological developments. I often found myself wanting to try out new browser extensions or organizational methods and honestly I would've benefitted from just using that time to study. (Also, you're probably reading this because of my DL post so I don't think it has to be said that AI resources suck.)

A good example of this was my time using Clozemaster. I had actually recommended it when I first started using it since I thought the foundation was really solid. However, after long term use, I found that it just wasn't a good fit. The sentences were often too simple or too long and strange for memorization at higher levels or were too difficult at lower levels. I think that taking my textbook's example sentences from dialogues into something like Anki would've been a far better use of my time (and money) as they were already designed to be at that n+1 level.

Fix: "Vet" your resources—make sure they will actually help you. If something is working for you, then keep using it! You don't always have to upgrade to the newest tool/method.

Mistake 3.5: Classrooms and Textbooks

A .5 since it's not my mistake, but an addendum of caution. I think there is a significant part of the language learning community that views textbooks and classroom learning as the worst possible resource. They are "boring", "outdated", and "ineffective" (ironically one of the most interesting modern language learning methods, ALG, is only done in a classroom setting). Classrooms and textbooks bring back memories of being surrounded by mostly uninterested classmates, minimal priority, and a focus on grades rather than personal achievement (imagine the difference between a class of middle schoolers who were forced to choose a foreign language vs. adult learners who self-selected!) People have used these exact methods, or even "cruder" methods, to successfully learn a language. It all comes down to what works best for you. I specifically recommend textbooks for learning grammar and the plentiful number of dialogues and written passages that can function great as graded readers and listening resources. (Also the distinction made between "a youtube lesson on a grammatical principle" which is totally cool, and "a passage in a grammar textbook" is more one of tone and audio/written than efficacy).

Classrooms can be really great for speaking practice since they can be a lot less intimidating speaking to someone who is also learning while receiving corrections. Speech can be awkward to train on your own (not impossible if you're good at just talking aloud to yourself!), and classrooms can work nicely for this. Homework and class schedules also have built in accountability!

Fix: Explore resources available to you and try to think holistically about your approach. CI+Traditional Methods is my go to "Learning Cocktail"

Mistake 4: Yes, Immersion, But...

I realized this relatively quickly while learning Chinese, but immersion at a level much higher than your current level will do very little for you. What is sometimes left out of those "Just watch anime to learn Japanese" discussions is that you first need to have a chance at understanding what is being said. Choosing materials that are much higher than your level will not teach you the language. It doesn't matter how many times someone at HSK 1 hears “他是甘露之惠，我并无此水可还”, they will not get very far. Actual deduction and learning comes from having enough familiar components to be able to make deductions—something different than guessing. An HSK 1 learner, never having heard the word 老虎 will be able to understand "tiger" if someone says “这是我的老虎” while standing next to a tiger. This is not to say you can never try something more difficult—things should be challenging—but if you can't make heads or tails of what's being said, then it's time to find something a bit easier. If mistake 2 is about the type of method, this is about the level. If you wouldn't give a kindergartener The Great Gatsby to learn how to read, why would you watch Full Metal Alchemist to start learning a language?

Side note: Interesting video here on the Comprehensible Input hypothesis and how it relates to neurodivergence.

Fix: Immerse yourself in appropriate content for your level. It's called comprehensible input for a reason.

Mistake 5: On Translation

I work as a translator, so do you really think I'm going to say translation is all bad? Of course not. It's a separate skill that can be added on to the basic skills, but is really only required if you are A. someone who is an intermediary between two languages (say you have to translate for a spouse or family member) or B. It is your job/hobby. In the context of sitting down and learning, it can be harmful. I think my brain often goes to translation too often because that's how I used to learn. Trying to unlearn that is difficult because, well, what do people even mean when they say "don't translate"? They mean when someone says "thank you", you should not go to your primary language and translate "you're welcome" from that. You should train yourself to go to your target language first when you hear the word for "thank you". A very literally translated "thank you" in Chinese "谢谢你" can come off as cold and sarcastic. I don't tell my friends that, I say "谢啦～". Direct translation can take away the difference in culture, grammar, and politeness in a language. If there is a reason you sound awkward while writing and speaking, it's probably because you're imposing your primary language on your target language.

Fix: Try as hard as you can to not work from your primary language into the target language, but to work from the structures, set phrases, and grammar within the target language that you know first.

Mistake 6: The Secret Language Learners Don't Want You To Know...

...is that there is no one easy method. You are not going to learn French while you sleep, or master Korean by doing this one easy trick. Learning a language requires work and dedication, the people that succeed are those that push through the boredom of repetition and failure. The "I learned X in 1 year/month/week/day!" crowd is hiding large asterisks, be it their actual level, the assistance and free time available to them, "well actually I had already studied this for 4 years", or just straight-up lying. Our own journeys in our native tongue were not easy, they required years and years of constant immersion and instruction. While we are now older and wiser people that can make quick connections, we are also burdened with things like "jobs", "house work", "school work", and the digital black hole that is "social media" that take up our time and energy. Everything above is to help make this journey a little bit easier, quicker, and painless, but it will never be magic.

I find that language learning has a lot in common with the fitness community. People will talk about the workout that changed their life and how no other one will do the same—and it really can be the truth that it changed their life and that they feel it is the ultimate way. The real workout that will change your life is the one you're most consistent with, that you enjoy the most. Language learning is just trying to find the brain exercise that you can be the most consistent with.

Fix: Save your energy looking for shortcuts, and do the work, fail, and come back for more. If someone tells you that you can become fluent in a ridiculously short amount of time, they are selling you a fantasy (and likely a product). You get out what you put in.

For those that made it to the end, here are some of my "universal resources":

Refold Method: I don't agree with their actual method 100%, but they've collected a lot of great resources for learning languages. I've found their Chinese and Korean discords to also be really helpful and provided even more resources than what's given in their starter guides.

Language Reactor: Very useful, and have recently added podcasts as a material! The free version is honestly all you need.

Anki: If I do not mention it, the people with 4+ year streaks with a 5K word deck will not let me forget it. It can be used on desktop or on your phone as an app. If you need a replacement for a language learning app, this is one of them. Justin Sung has a lot of great info on how to best utilize Anki (as does Refold). It's not my favorite, but it could be yours!

LingQ: "But I thought you said language apps are bad!" In isolation, yes. Sorry for the clickbait. This one is pretty good, and more interested in immersing you in the language than selling a subscription to allow you to freeze your streak so the number goes up.

Grammar Textbooks: For self-taught learning, these are going to be the best resource since it's focused on the hardest part of the language, and only that. If you're tired of seeing group work activities, look for a textbook that is just on grammar (Modern Mandarin Chinese Grammar is my rec for Chinese, and A Guide to Japanese Grammar by Tae Kim is the most common/enthusiastic rec I've heard for Japanese).

Shadowing: Simply repeat what you hear. Matt vs Japan talks about his setup here for optimized shadowing (which you can probably build for a lot cheaper now), but it can also just be you watching a video and pausing to repeat after each sentence or near simultaneously if you're able.

Youtube: Be it "Short Story for Beginners", "How to use X", "250 Essential Phrases", or a GRWM in your target language, Youtube is the best. Sometimes you have to dig to find what works for you, but I imagine there is something for everyone at every level. (Pro tip: People upload textbook audio dialogues often, you don't even have to buy the textbook to be able to learn from it!)

A Friend: Be it a fellow learner, or someone who has already mastered the language, it is easier when you have someone, not only to speak to, but to remind you why you're doing this. I write far more in Chinese because I have friends I can text in Chinese.

Pen and Paper: Study after study, writing on paper continues to be the best method for memorization. Typing or using a pen and tablet still can't compare to traditional methods.

The Replies (Probably): Lots of people were happy to give alternatives for specific languages in the replies of my DL post. The community here is pretty active, so if this post blows up at least 20% of what the last one did, you might be able to find some great stuff in the replies and reblogs.

I wish you all the best~

[followerofmercy]

THANK YOU FOR PUTTING IT SO ELOQUENTLY

I woke up and chose brain mush today asldj;f. I believe this is the time when "using someone" becomes appropriate. When I'm in a workplace with a Racist Joe or Sexual Harasser, I do, usually, end up with a surface level civil enough work relationship no matter how much I hate them (or sometimes call them out), but that's less because they have valuable things to offer and more because I'm keeping tabs on them/trying to get dirt on them. If they're dangerous, they are no longer part of the Know A Guy network. If they suck that hard they're usually NOT worth working with, because like you said, they're hurt YOU too.

And, hell, if someone is Actively Dangerous like that, it's worthwhile to organize everyone to do something about them. Not, like, mob violence, but having an in-community support to deal with their rank ass.

There's a lot of nuance. I've had a lot of shitty people that I can be the voice of reason for - little reminders of "Hey, the women in your life have better things to do than put up with your shit. Hey, uh, I don't think that racist joke was funny. Why exactly do you think that's funny." with mixed results. Sometimes people CAN get better if they just have someone vocally disapproving of their actions. The reason a lot of these behaviors go unchecked is because they're surrounded by people that also do those behaviors, or, the only people that have been critical of them are strawmen on the internet they can feel attacked by.

Utilize peer pressure for good. I think internet circles especially have a bad habit of writing people off for Genuinely Sucking But In A Way That Could Get Better and, while it's nobody's job to fix them, the fact of the matter is that they're not gonna suddenly stop sucking without an outside influence. It really is wild how much Being Someone People Respect and Having A Different (and strong) Opinion can get people to stop and think about their biases.

...And then sometimes someone sucks so hard that your best option is "let them dig themselves a hole in front of you and then mount a counteroffensive" asldfj. Pick and choose your enemies. I used to be a homophobe because of how I was raised and now I'm not, mostly because the people around me were willing to answer my questions and also chime in when they didn't approve of my behavior. I was also raised in a racist society - just like everyone else here is - and no matter how much I work on it, I'm still gonna fuck up occasionally. I would appreciate correction instead of being written off as The Enemy.

Anyway be safe. Pick and choose the people you spend a lot of time with. I do think there's merit in being the only sane motherfucker that talks to the Kinda Racist but Could Get Better guy or the Kinda Misogynist but Not Actively Dangerous guy to get them out of their echo chamber, but at the same time, there's limits to how good of an influence you can be. Some people Are In Fact Too Dangerous To Work With. Use your best judgement

Networking/Knowing A Guy: A Guide

This is the autism website. Now, as an extension of the power of love and friendship, there are few things more useful than Knowing A Guy. Knowing A Guy means you have a support network. Knowing a plumber, or a tax accountant, or just that one dude that's really fucking good at finding the information you need when you're really overwhelmed, can be the difference between being able to pay rent and having a fun party with friends to fix your shit.

How does one end up Knowing A Guy? It's a skill you can develop called Networking and it is one of the foundations of society. Unfortunately making those connections with people is fucking hard and nobody makes a tutorial for it. So, here you go:

The golden rule is you scratch my back and I scratch yours

It is necessary for survival to seek out useful people

Great news! Everyone is useful in some form or fashion - including you! When given the opportunity to learn about someone, do it! Extroversion does not come naturally to some people and that's okay. Just take whatever falls in your lap.

Types of usefulness: trade skills, connections of their own, personality you jive with, pleasant to talk to, niche interest in shared hobby, security - the list is pretty much endless. I know a guy that lives in the metro area - no job, no major hobbies, inoffensively annoying to me personally, kinda ignorant, not attractive to me, but you know what? He knows how the fuck to get around the city by foot. My rural-raised ass APPRECIATES the guide.

Remember important information: general personality, background, skillset, likes and dislikes. You can find this information by making smalltalk about their life. There is no such thing as pointless conversation. (Yes, even the annoying smalltalk)

The more people you know, the higher the likelihood that one of them will be useful in a given situation - or will know someone who is.

It is overwhelming. In a given clique/community/workspace/whatever, there is A Guy Who Knows The Other Guys. This Guy is a shortcut. Find them. They're often elderly, extroverted, a little bit annoying, a secretary or in some otherwise forward-facing position. Look for people that are gossipy/talk about other people a lot but not in negative ways. If they constantly talk shit, they'll talk shit about you too. They're still useful but be careful with the information you share

You do not have to like someone for them to be useful.

You do not have to like someone for them to be useful.*

If you have low self esteem, you're going to feel like you're using people. You're not. That's the devil talking. People like feeling valued and the connections you are making are the threads holding community together. Recognize people for their talents. It's only a problem when you're taking advantage of people

So: don't feel scummy about it. You're an animal. You have to claw out your right to survive and people will respect you more for it.

Luckily mutualism is the name of the game in the animal kingdom. Offer something back. The foundation of a Know A Guy relationship is Mutual Benefit

Sometimes that Mutual Benefit is just spreading news of the The Guy far and wide. My plumber friend is my actual friend and I love her to death, but I'm maintaining our backscratch relationship by pimping out her plumbing business to anyone that'll listen

Food is a good Mutual Benefit. People across cultures for all of human history have bonded over food. I have good success asking people for a favor and then offering to buy them lunch in return **

General compensation is also good. Offer a service in return and always do your best to offer financial compensation as appropriate. Having your plumber friend take a look at your drain: doable with a case of beer. Having your plumber friend redo the pipes in your entire house? You need to pay for that.

Being transactional is not necessarily a bad thing. I would advise against keeping an itemized list of things owed, but fish don't seek out cleaner shrimp just because they enjoy their company. Everyone gets something

Unfortunately being extroverted and generally personable is a huge benefit here, but that's the value of the Guy That Knows A Guy. There's someone out there that has consolidated All The Guys so you don't have to be the local expert. Always remember nobody can do everything and you don't need to master every skill

* This is the foundation of a functioning community. I have many acquaintances that I find incredibly annoying. They include doctors, welders, artists, social workers, lawyers, construction crew and random fuckers at the grocery store. I do not hang out with them. I do not have to in order to maintain a civil Know A Guy relationship. I can drop them useful tidbits and fuck right off so I don't have to spend any more time than necessary with them

** People may assume romantic intent. Be prepared for that. I generally denote that it's a friendly/work lunch by calling them bro at some point if they're my age. Otherwise my general demeanor is sufficient to show that I do this with everyone

Source: personal experience, mother's teachings of crime, booth vending and poverty

[ghousttm]

i feel like Evbo and Emf are different from most of everyone in parkour civilization, and it really adds to their dynamic

i like to think park civ culture is big on improving and looking after yourself and it makes most people not value one another or even have bonds or connections

This is especially apparent in the noob level where people would die quickly so its better to not get attached

and in the master level where you often form enemies than anything

even in the pro level its all about focusing on improving your own skills and doing your own thing. Most park civ citizens are closed off and dont bat an eye on other people, its the norm

Those two are one of the few people who helps others before themselves when it comes to it. I mean, theyre the only two people who actively did anything to fix the system

Evbo has always been someone who encourages others and wants to see others progress besides himself, indiscriminately

and emf seems to be someone who wants to help others (evbo), at first for the sake of greater good and a second time (jumping into the void) just because he wants to help his friend

Put two people who's whole thing is valuing another and have rarely ever been genuinely valued themself by others and you get yourself A Dynamic For Sure.

maybe emf's whole thing s'that he has always been one who helps the people he wants to succeed, but he never thought of himself succeeding anymore than what he already is. After all master is the highest he's sure he can get.. and his skills are very average for his rank. This is where he belongs, and he plays the part, as a small insignificant piece of a collective. He can't actually do more as himself, no that's evbo's thing! He's amazing and he's a walking talent, what emf is Supposed to do is support him!

But then suddenly, Evbo risked his life just to save him, and trusted him to be the new parkour champion

Him, emf, some nobody.

why? What did someone so great, someone who'd ascended above the highest rank he'd even known, see in someone so average?

but to Evbo, emf is so much more than average.

The average doesnt help him, doesnt believe in him, doesnt give him the chances to be able to be where he is at now, doesnt jump into the void like an idiot with no sure return. He's so so different than 'the average', Evbo has a trust and, dare i say, love for Emf that doesnt exist anywhere in parkour civilization

nowhere to anyone but to him and him only.

He was the first stars Evbo ever had seen. To evbo..

He doesn't look like the night sky,, the night sky looks like him.

They place a pedestal for one another in their own heads and i think that's precious.

In a civilization where everybody looks forward at the jumps in front of them and barely to their sides, to the people jumping with them

They look each other in the eyes, with a care and appreciation that's worth an extremely gay legend to be written about in parkour only to be summed up to "they were best friends" don't you know what it means to be more than allies in Second Era Parkour Civilization???

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Relationship Snapshot: Miphlink

(I wanted to get into the characters and how their relationship would work, so that’s this lol)

Mipha

Dedicated, compassionate, kind, nurturing, gentle, graceful, an excellent fighter and healer - these are all ways people would describe the Princess of the Zora. Ever the perfect and noble young woman, Mipha is quiet and elegant. She puts on an excellent facade for the people, as their princess, and knows to do her duty. In reality, Mipha does truly love to help others and finds joy in it, but she also desperately suppresses her own wants and desires in the name of both duty and trying to satisfy that need to help others. As she is the golden child, she also rarely—if ever—gets criticism, and therefore is not used to taking any at all. She’ll overthink any critique, stressing and resenting it. She’ll push herself beyond her breaking point for others, defining herself and her worth in her ability to help. She doesn’t have as much confidence in her own abilities as others seem to, and she resigns herself to knowing that she’s the weakest link in the chain of warriors around her. While she’ll do everything in her power to improve herself so that she can better help others, Mipha is also pessimistic in her own outcomes in life. She doesn’t really expect to be happy, doesn’t expect to survive a fight with Ganon, doesn’t expect to live a life that feels truly her own. She’s a servant of her people and that honestly seems like enough for her. She’s very shy about expressing her own needs and desires, rarely talking about what she wants. She’s emotionally overwhelmed easily, and despite pushing for intimacy with others in order to help them, she’s hardly ever intimate about herself and her own needs. Mipha will be everyone’s best friend and know all their hurts and loves but hardly anyone will know anything about her. She was far more adventurous as a child, though a worrier for others and much preferred tending to friends than seeking excitement. Still has a small spark of adventure in her, loves to explore and see new things, but spends most of her time attending to others so she just represses any desire for it. When she does finally get to be in an intimate relationship, she goes above and beyond in trying to show her love and feel loved in return initially, insecure on the matter. This can make her burn herself out or annoy whoever the other party is by overstepping. Overall, Mipha is very kindhearted and gentle, pushes herself to be the best she can be in her gifts and abilities, constantly involved in the lives of her subjects and tries to be a role model for those around her, and she wants to help everyone to the point of completely disregarding herself.

Link

As a child prodigy, Link is used to having a lot of expectations on his shoulders. He was raised to put duty first, and he takes his duty very seriously as a result, constantly pushing himself to improve and be the best knight he can be. Link has confidence in his abilities and plenty of courage, but reckless abandon are also often reasons he simply throws himself into battle with little strategy involved. He has a lot of anxiety about the pressure he’s under and desperately seeks security, even if it’s just form himself, or from praying to Hylia as often as possible. Got pushed out of the nest a little too soon due to his abilities, and tends to feel very alone and scared as a result, trying to steady himself in a chaotic world that keeps pushing him around. Very aware of how perceived he is and not sure how to handle it, but doesn’t want to mess it up. Adventurous and curious, Link will explore everything and break every bone in his body doing it and not regret it one bit. And he’ll do it without a single plan in his head. He’s not incapable of strategy, of course, but he hardly uses it. However, his strong sense of duty and recognition that the world is watching him and has expectations often keeps this wilder side of him in line. He has a kind heart under the stoic exterior, which can be confusing to those around him as he comes across as ambivalent but actually cares very deeply. Loves being around children as there is little pressure, they’re brutally honest about their opinions, and their innocence is endearing, and he loves to protect them. Finds peace in nature, and may go out to be alone to center himself, but honestly prefers the company of a few close friends/family over being alone in the wilds all the time. Quite independent, almost fiercely so - he follows orders and all that, but left to his own devices he would rather just do what he wants. He’s used to taking care of himself from a fairly young age, and while sometimes guidance in how to do things is greatly appreciated and gives him a break, sometimes he’ll balk at it and want to go his own way. With all the pressure he’s gotten throughout his life, Link places even more pressure on himself. He has to get it right every time. He has to win every time. If anything goes wrong it’s his fault, no matter what. He has to protect everyone. Between this internalized stress and his silence, Link hardly knows how to connect with others and rarely, if ever, is the first to reach out. This can definitely make him seem aloof when he truly does care, he just doesn’t know how to show it. Link is a doer far more than a talker, and will show he cares through actions, especially through cooking.

Miphlink

Mipha and Link complement each other well. Mipha’s kindness, gentleness, and nurturing nature soothe Link’s anxieties. Link’s confidence and strength and steadfastness give Mipha stability in a world where everyone else relies on her. Both love each other quietly - Mipha’s shyness is a hurdle she works to get over as their relationship develops into something romantic, and Link of course has no idea how to communicate his feelings. When they were children they were good friends, exploring together and teaching each other, whether it was Link showing Mipha how to fight or Mipha showing Link how to fish and swim. As young aduts, as they grow comfortable with each other once more after years apart and baggage and worries have piled up, they regain some of that spark for adventure, especially Link, who feels safe around Mipha, and he pushes her to be open about what she wants and needs and enjoys, forcing her out of her perfect facade and making her have fun with him.

[majoryeager104]

You + Me = three pt 2

Summary: headcannons of Touya as an official dad

warnings: Language, mentions of murder (☝️💀) and Touya needing to be protected at all costs (as usual 😩)

It’s a daughter

And he’s never been more happy

He can’t really explain why he wanted a daughter so bad

But he was beyond ecstatic when he got to hold her for the first time

As said before, if he could cry, he would

He’d definitely be a protective dad

Like besides you NO ONE can hold his little princess 🙅‍♀️

Because “no mf you’ll DROP HER, or she’ll get ANXIOUS, or ILL GET ANXIOUS”

But at the same time

Yk those memes that are like “dad vs mom” and the mom is cuddling the baby, and the dad is like treating it like a ragdoll? Slinging it over his shoulder and stuff?

Yeah that’s him too. 

A year in you walk into the living room

And he’s got your daughter upside down

Walking on her hands 

While he holds her ankles

“She wanted to do a hand stand”

And he’d shrug like it wasn’t an ACTUAL BABY

Like everyone else would treat her irresponsibly but him

And that mindset of his never goes away

Can you imagine when his daughter is a teenager?

Bringing a boy home?

I think the fuck not 😤

He’ll either threaten the kid

Or like actually burn him. 

Like fr

He’s a villain okay

But he’s got his priorities straight at least

Bc the boy was probably gonna try and use her anyways 😤

At least according to Touya

So he deserved it 🧍 

Moving on from child murder

Back to baby hc’s

He’d totally steal naps with the baby when he can

He’s not even tired 

But holding his baby

And having her fall asleep in his arms? 

An elevated experience for him

ESPECIALLY if it means you can catch a break

Buuuuut

Nap time with baby AND you?

He’s in heaven. 

His two favorite people

The two people in the world he would protect at any cost

And he gets to cuddle with them 🥹 

I think on a serious note though

The experience of being a dad 

And raising a kid with you

Definitely made him think about a few things 

Like

Revenge didn’t feel worth it anymore. 

If it meant he’d die in a few months

And leave you two behind?

Nah

Bc having you two 

Was the best thing to happen to him

Because

He didn’t want to die for you

He wanted to live for you

So what was the point in dying in such a terrible way?

So his daughter could grow up without her dad? 

Absolutely not. 

So

Should he have a family with you 

That revenge he’d been working towards would be obsolete 

All that energy that he stored up

For the moment he’d destroy the lives of his father and those who wronged him?

That energy is being put to better use now

Now he’s making time to take his daughter on walks so you can rest

And making her and you pancakes every morning

Every single day 

As his daughter gets older and older, he definitely opens up about the things he’s done 

He’d been in a shell for so long 

Hiding himself from people

That he never wanted to do that again

At least not with you or your daughter

And once again

Another moment where if he could he’d cry?

Is when his daughter smiles

And says she understands

Just like you did all those years ago when he told you 

Because now he had a family

An actual family 

Who loved and understood him

And he’ll be holding onto these moments

That he considers ever so sacred and precious

Till the day he finally drops dead

Ughhhh Dad Touya has my heart I fear 🖐️😭 having a whole redemption arc for the sake of his family bc Enji never did that for him 💔💔💔

[youcouldmakealife]

SOTM: Luke/Andreas; wined and dined

For the prompt: Andreas and Luke meeting/hooking up the second time

I literally finished this before I realised you guys probably meant like, the second time they hooked up, not the whole second time 'round. Mea culpa, everybody. And for those who interpreted it the same way I did...you're welcome?

Andreas can’t remember the last time he was wined and dined.

Though maybe that isn’t the best way to describe it — Andreas has dinner meetings all the time, has sat beside clients at the best restaurants in almost every NHL city, sampled from the menus of half of New York's most exclusive restaurants. Always on the agency’s dime, of course, or his multi-millionaire client’s, or the teams they play for, or the teams who want to sign them.

There’s plenty of wine involved — though Andreas always restricts himself to a glass when it's business — plenty of dining. But a meeting’s a meeting, whether it’s in a conference room, patiently waiting for a GM who’s been around since there were still six teams in the league to figure out how to unmute his mic, or eating something exceptional at a Michelin Star restaurant.

So obviously that’s not what he means. It’s not that he hasn’t been dating either, though admittedly, he had less and less time to spare for it as he got older. And not that he hasn’t gone on dinner dates specifically, where he allows himself a second glass of wine, orders what he’d like, rather than ‘what he’s having sounds good’, unless, Andreas supposes, it truly does sound good. So there has been wining and dining, in fact. Possibly even a surplus of it.

And yet.

At a certain point Andreas thinks he just stopped expecting romance. It wasn’t any sort of resigned, jaded disappointment at the dating scene. Not that it isn't a shitshow, but it's probably better here than just about anywhere else. More an acknowledgment that most guys didn’t seem to be looking for romance, at least the ones Andreas was dating.

And that was fine, because Andreas wasn’t really looking for it either. Romance was undeniably nice, but he worked long hours, put almost all of himself into his job, and what he had left didn’t require much more than good conversation and some companionship, a spark of attraction, mediocre or better sex. Romance might have come along down the line, but things didn’t tend to last long even when he did find someone who met his simple — yet almost impossible to find — criteria.

That one, he thinks has more to do with him than it does with them. Andreas’ career is one of those things that’s attractive in theory, but significantly less endearing when he’s slipping in and out of bed at all hours, constantly checking his email or ducking out to make a call, flying off to who knows where, sometimes with plenty of notice, sometimes with none at all.

Maybe his life just isn’t conducive to romance. He doesn’t like to think that, but there would be worse things, wouldn’t there? He has a job that he finds fascinating, a job that offers something different every day, a job that, incidentally, pays him more money than he has the time to spend. He could retire tomorrow if he wanted to, live the rest of his life in comfort, dedicate all his time to searching for true love, but why would he want to? It sounds excruciatingly boring.

So he works — he works a lot, works more than he should, at least according to everyone he knows, including Dave, the giant hypocrite — and he — well, he works. But it’s fine. Most people have to search for meaning in his life, but he has his. If anyone asks about it — and they all ask, except Dave, that gem of a fucking man — he says he doesn’t feel like he’s lacking anything. He’s not lying, either.

That doesn’t mean something doesn’t squeeze tight when Luke conveniently ‘happens to be in town’ — though if there’s any town that actually applies to, it’s New York — when he figures they should ‘catch up’. Even as he tells himself that he’s just catching up with an old flame, one who doesn’t even live in the same country as him anymore. Even as he tells himself once for old time’s sake, and then twice doesn’t hurt considering they’ve still got chemistry, then when it’s been three, four, half a dozen, and if Luke’s got a return ticket Andreas doesn’t know when it’s for, but it doesn’t feel like it’s any time soon.

Luke has always been a romantic. He’d deny it up and down if Andreas said it, and it wouldn’t even be a kneejerk macho shit — Andreas doesn’t think Luke even knows he does anything out of the ordinary. Andreas doubts he was thinking ‘I’m going to woo Andreas’ as he asked him out to dinner, not the first time, or the second, not when he came with a bag of groceries and a bottle of wine from a vineyard Andreas mentioned in passing, said he’d cook for him, laughing as he fought with Andreas’ temperamental bottle opener, scoffing when Andreas impatiently intervened before he could ruin a good bottle of wine.

Technically, he doesn’t even know if 'wooing' is Luke’s aim at all. He could just need the change of pace, miss the city, the speed of it, the convenience, and while he was here, Andreas was just as convenient as the rest of it — good conversation, good companionship, Luke more attractive than ever, the sex still fantastic. And they didn’t even have to get to know one another. What could be easier?

But Andreas doesn’t think so, at least not judging by the way Luke’s started looking at him.

Andreas doesn’t think anyone has ever looked at him like Luke does, the complete focus of it. Looking isn’t a strong enough word — it’s more like he’s taking him in, trying make sure that he gets every single detail correct, the way Andreas imagines a painter would gaze at their subject, a poet at their lover. Luke’s no poet, but, well — maybe he is, a little, minus the words. There’s something about the way Luke looks at the world. Something about the way Luke looks at him.

It used to unnerve Andreas, a little, especially because Luke wasn’t only looking at him like that over romantic candlelit dinners and endorphin fueled pillow talk, but also during the most mundane moments. Andreas would be scowling at his phone, pecking out an answer to a client who decided he urgently needed to discuss his contract on a Sunday morning, a full season before it expired, and he’d look up and there Luke was, visibly taking him in. Sometimes there’d be a little smile on his face — the moments Andreas let himself be a little cranky there often was — but often there wasn’t, just Luke’s eyes on him, taking him in like he was never going to see him again.

It was — a lot. Luke was a lot, almost from the very beginning. Andreas thought he was going to get a regrettable hook up out of things, and then he thought it was going to be a few of them, and it was like a switch was flipped, and Luke went from the hot, fun, surprisingly good in bed client Andreas had completely unprofessionally fucked — and not just once, but a few times, and then a handful — to even more surprisingly good company outside of bed, to something Andreas didn’t quite have a name for. Someone who was gone even more than Andreas was, someone Andreas started to miss when he was gone. Andreas was the one staying put, most of the time, but Luke was the one always watching him like he’d disappear the moment he closed his eyes.

The look hasn’t changed, and Andreas imagines it means the same thing now as it did then, Luke who doesn’t blink, Luke who jumps both feet first, Luke the romantic.

It doesn’t feel as overwhelming now, though Andreas suspects he’ll be spending some time thinking about just how quickly Luke was on board. How quick they both were — Andreas can’t pretend he doesn’t know what’s coming, what’s already here, can’t pretend that isn’t something he wants, when he could end things with a word.

But he doesn’t. This time Andreas lets himself look back, and when Luke catches him at it, he doesn’t let himself look away.

[rewiringtoheal]

This Pain Is Temporary

Anna x Fem!Reader

He's Just Not That Into You AU

Summary: I was watching this movie and had a lot of what if questions. What if the main cast actually all communicated with each other? What if Anna actually had some character development? What if Reader was a variation of a female Conor Barry who got a clue? And how would these differences lead to Anna genuinely falling in love with Reader.

warnings: very slowburn, angst, worse before better, eventual fluff.

You feel used. This person that you love…loved?? You aren’t really sure anymore of your feelings toward Anna. It was never simple with her. And truthfully, you wish you could go back to your blissful ignorance.

 You had been so thrilled when she told you she was finally ready to take the next step with you. A real relationship with the girl of your dreams. Having your heartfelt love confession be returned and then making love for hours was more than you ever could have hoped for. 

You now knew it was all a lie. And that Anna was a very skilled actor. In your excitement you had raced home the next morning to tell your best buddy Alex and his new girlfriend GiGi the news. After showing them a picture of Anna and you. The night of bliss quickly turned sour; GiGi hesitantly told you that Anna was the same woman that had a very recent affair with her best friend's husband. And everything the past few months had started to make sense. How Anna would constantly ignore your calls but somehow always be available when she needed her emotional needs met. And finding out that the only reason she wanted a relationship with you was because the man of her dreams wouldn’t leave his wife was heartbreaking. How could you be so stupid? And how could you be so blind to the type of person Anna really was.

You felt a hand squeezing your knee bringing you back to the world around you. You  see GiGi’s hand retreating and her eyes filled with sorrow. You muster up a strained smile.

“Well, at least I had my dream girl for a moment even if it wasn’t real. Looking back, I kinda see now that she treated me like shit but I was so lost in her. I can’t believe I was so blind to her selfishness. And now this…I don’t think I ever really knew her at all,” you say somberly.  

Alex let out a deep sigh, “Dude I don’t really know what to say. She did really shitty things but maybe she's not a shitty person. The moments you had together weren’t all fake. The parts of herself she showed you are probably real. And you can love those parts and still be hurt that she lied about her feelings for you.”

You give a weak chuckle, “You’re right..but I don’t know how to deal with this. I do still love her even if she used me. I see it so clearly now. I’m the back up plan. The person she really wanted hurt her so she chose the safe option.”

Gigi looked at you, her eyes filling with sorrow, “Sometimes people don’t know what they have until it's gone. She is making awful decisions and it’s hurting everyone around her. Deal with this by loving yourself first. I know it's hard but she doesn’t appreciate you. And only wants you when she has no one else.”

That was hard to hear but Gigi was right. You need to take care of yourself. For months you have been putting all of your energy into Anna. Being there for her emotionally, picking up her dry cleaning, giving her rides, and loving her to the best of your ability. All to realize that she never really cared about you, not even as a friend. A friend wouldn’t play with your feelings like this.  

You continue to chat with your friends for a little while longer. Eventually you grow too sad and too tired to keep up the conversation. You excuse yourself for the night and head up to your bedroom. Not in the mood to do your night time routine you just chuck off your clothes, put your cellphone on your night stand and cuddle under the covers. 

Your mind keeps turning in circles as you lay there. The happiness you had felt earlier today has turned into a deep sadness. And for the first time since Gigi told you about Anna you allow yourself to cry. As silent tears move down the contours of your face you burrow into your pillow; just praying to yourself that you can fall asleep. Anything to stop the pain. 

You briefly wonder if Gigi’s friend Janine is in the same state you are right now. You know more than likely she is worse off than you. Janine's entire life is in shambles. Her husband is awful no doubt about it but you just can’t wrap your head around Anna getting involved with a married man. Nothing makes sense anymore but maybe you never had a clue to begin with.

[nnicknnelsonn]

Kit literally tops Hollywood Reporter list

Next Gen Talent 2024: The 10 Hottest Young Stars in Hollywood

From Netflix-turned-Broadway sensation Kit Connor to DC newcomer Aaron Pierre, meet the young stars climbing everyone’s call sheet.

Thank you for the tipoff @thegoldenretrieverandthegaynerd (X)

Kit Connor and Josh Rivera photographed November 11th at Broken Shaker in New York; Source: Hollywood Reporter (X)

1. Kit Connor

Connor is ready to break out beyond high school. He built his career as a child actor (see him as a young Elton John in Rocketman) before scoring the lead role in the high school rom-com series Heartstopper. This desire to graduate is part of what drew the Brit to Broadway, where he’s currently leading Romeo + Juliet with Rachel Zegler, bringing Shakespeare to the Gen Z masses. “It just felt ballsy,” Connor says. “It’s been what I’ve been trying to do with my career decisions recently, just try and do things that are a little bit more ballsy.” Connor, 20, isn’t sure if Heartstopper will return for a fourth season, but after the curtain goes down on his Broadway stint, he’ll start promoting his most adult role yet in Alex Garland’s A24 thriller Warfare. After that, he says, “I’d like to take a little break just so that I can kind of cleanse my mind and my palate, and then I’d like to do something completely different.” He adds, “I want to try and spend the next couple years just doing quite hard stuff so that I can try and force myself to get better.”

IF I WASN’T AN ACTOR I’D BE “I would first and foremost be a student due to my age. [My major] would probably be something like film studies, English or history, those are the subjects I found the most interesting in school because they were about people. I never did well with numbers. Still don’t.”

THE PERSON I AM DYING TO WORK WITH “I would love to work with Josh O’Connor. He and I are friendly, and every time I see him I think how I would love to see him at work.”

HOW I DECOMPRESS ON SET “I like my private time. On Warfare, we didn’t do that at all. Every night we did everything together and I wouldn’t have changed it at all. But a lot of time on jobs, I go home and just sit and listen to music.”

BEST ADVICE I’VE GOTTEN WORKING IN ENTERTAINMENT “Trusting the process. Quite a lot of my friends in the industry have given me that general advice.”

SONG OR ALBUM I HAVE ON REPEAT “David Bowie, The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars. I used to, at the beginning of the run of the play, I was listening to a lot of music that would try to hype me up because I wanted to have a load of energy going into the play but then I started re-listening to that album‚ “Rock and Roll Suicide”, “Five Years”, “Moonage Daydream” — that put me in a good mindset for [the play].”

THE MOVIE OR SERIES I AM OBSESSED WITH “The Sopranos. I started watching it when I got to [New York] because I thought Jersey is just around the corner.”

MOST HOLLYWOOD THING THAT HAS HAPPENED TO ME “There is something pretty crazy about seeing your face on a billboard in any capacity.”

[martialartslover7]

Weird Wednesday Headcanon: Outside of Team 7, Neji, Shikamaru and Kiba sympathize the most with Sasuke's fall from grace after the Five Kage Summit.

Alright, this is another headcanon of mine that can be written off as "mental", but hear me out, this has so much potential.

I'd like to think that, outside of Team 7, Sasuke wasn't just closely acquainted with Naruto, Sakura or Kakashi, but also:

Neji (whom we even got a small teaser hint of a rivalry between him and Sasuke for, which sadly, never came to be, because Byakugan VS Sharingan is a question in the community, that truly needs answering)

Shikamaru (shogi rivals, nuff' said, the only guy, that managed to corner Shikamaru at his own game, I mean, Sasuke is meant to be a genius too, so, why not?)

Kiba (just being around him, Sasuke's IQ just automatically decreases, but in a fun way, like Renji and Uryu from Bleach, considering, Kiba had lived most of his life, surrounded by moody, dominating women, and he might be Sasuke's "stay-in wingman", when it comes to Sakura, or they would just talk about how tiring women can be, but they do manage to get best results out of you with their motivation, and he would be way easier to handle for Sasuke, because unlike Naruto, Kiba ain't braindead)

These are the three main players, but if you want, you can also put Choji and Rock Lee into the mix, considering that, later down the road, Sasuke's and Choji's daughter would end up becoming besties, and if Might Guy wouldn't survive the war, he and Lee can become the new Kakashi and Might Guy, the next generation, if you will. And this is ironic, because...

...just by coincidence, who else was sent to get Sasuke back, to prevent him from defecting to Orochimaru? Ah yes.

But now, I get to the meat and bones of this thread. And that being, the reason why I believe personally, it was a wasted opportunity to not give Sasuke more personal allies that sympathize with his actions, after he joined the Akatsuki.

Like, NO ONE can tell me, that the Uchiha weren't the only ones, who were under close observation within Konoha borders, by the elders. Sure, they were the biggest target, but it leaves you asking, especially in regards to those clans, who are either the strategist faction, or possess sensory type abilities: What about them? Wouldn't they suspect that something was going horribly wrong over there, at the Uchiha compound? Did absolutely NO ONE hear the screams, or blood splatters? I am just not sold on the idea that EVERYONE in Konoha blindly agreed to Tobirama's discriminatory policies, some had to know better than most. The select few, who weren't exactly fans of just distancing themselves from another clan, all because some frankly racist piece of garbage for a Hokage said so, along with the useless shitstains, that are the Konoha elders, especially Danzo.

And now, three people come to mind, where I truly felt like, they could have been there that night, when the Uchiha clan was being slaughtered, and they were either too late to stop it, or Itachi had knocked them out with his Genjutsu (which purposely contradicts Madara's propaganda about "no one in the village cared about the Uchiha, and only saw them as tools"). And ironically, they are probably the very select few of the adult shinobi, who weren't complete sub-human trash.

Hizashi Hyuga.

Shikaku Nara.

Tsume Inuzuka.

Just picture these three adults being the only ones, who caught on to what was happening, through not just the screams of terror, the smell of blood, or seeing through the walls with the Byakugan from Hizashi. But sadly, by the time they arrive, most of the Uchiha were already slaughtered. And right before they could even act to evacuate those, who may have survived, Itachi arrives, and knocks them clean out with his Tsukuyomi, not killing them, as their passing would just cause an uproar throughout the village, the following day.

And once Danzo learns, that three non-Uchiha, Leaf shinobi, were actually present that night, and they may or may not have caught a glimpse of who else was there that night, Hizashi, Shikaku and Tsume were forced to stay silent on the matter, as Danzo threatened them, through the lense of the ROOT Anbu:

"Dare to let a single word about last night's events slip, then your clans will be receiving severe repurcussions."

I mean, sure, it's kind of silly to try and silence three unrelated Leaf ninja into keeping silent, but considering how paranoid the elderly can be, especially Danzo, I wouldn't put it past him to actually go there.

And how convenient, because as the story progressed, two of these adults would wind up deceased. Shikaku died in the 4th Great Ninja war. One piece of the puzzle, gone.

Hizashi would actually be the first one to die, before all two of them, because the Hyuga clan was trying to mend their security blunder that one fateful night, when someone from Kumogakure tried to kidnap Hinata. But keeping in mind everything I just said, it just adds another layer to how corrupt this shinobi system truly is. Who is to say, Danzo basically bribed the Hyuga elders to sacrifice Hizashi, in place of Hiashi, because he couldn't possibly risk that one defiant Hyuga showing lip to the Hokage? Something to think about. Even if Hiruzen remains a useless piece of shit. You can never be TOO careful, right?

Tsume would probably be the only adult to keep on living, to tell the tale, and through her, does Kiba learn, how deep the rabbit hole with Danzo actually goes, and how Sasuke's hatred for the village MIGHT be """mildly""" justified. Especially if Neji and Shikamaru were to approach him about their own clan blunders, involving Danzo, right after his passing at the hands of Sasuke.

But especially Neji, man... If everything I said gets applied in practice, it would mean, outside of Naruto, he might also be considered worthy of facing Sasuke in battle, after the Five Kage Summit. Because, not only does he more than understand how it truly feels to lose family and loved ones, but also, how this entire shinobi system is essentially screwing over those, who were unfortunate enough to be born into families, that get treated like dirt by the government, that is supposed to protect them. Just imagine their exchange, while Kiba faces off against Jugo, and Shikamaru holds Suigetsu at bay.

"A slave to your own family... I really don't need another moral lecture from a man, who willingly decided to stick to his own kin, despite them viewing you as nothing short of cannonfodder. And yet, despite it all, you still side with them... Run, Neji. Run and hide with your insignificant existence weighing you down, before I tear you to pieces." --Sasuke

"No, Sasuke. You're wrong. If it's any consolation, I am more than able to sympathize with your current state of mind. As of recently, I had to learn the hard way, that you and I, at the end of the day, are not so different. Believe me, you're not the only one, who was royally screwed over by the same village that you once swore to protect. The only reason, why I am not defecting, is because I still have family left to protect... Which is something I cannot say on your behalf, as much as it saddens me to say this. You have every right to hate us. Especially considering, we believed the rumors first, leaving no room for you to speak up and defend yourself. I didn't come to lecture you. And I won't run... because I am going to make you listen." --Neji

Pretty epic, isn't it? I am sorry, Neji is just the GOAT to me, and anything to make him and Sasuke spiritual broskies, I am here for that. Just visualize how adrenaline-driven their encounter would end up being, if you add the Bankakyo Byakugan into the mix. This is how Neji's Bankakyo would look like (source by Aleister Brown):

And for context on what this eye gives Neji for busted abilities, which make him a more or less equal match to Sasuke, after he got Itachi's eyes implanted:

Left eye: Foresight (he can look 10 seconds into the future, to predict Sasuke's moves, before he could even pull them off)

Right eye: Timeskip (improves his Taijutsu, by basically freezing time all around himself, and teleporting, at anything his eyes can see for time)

And, to make it even, with the Bankakyo, you can even summon a chakra avatar, similar to the Susano'o called, Sarutakahiko, take a look:

And because it's me, this is the music that plays in my mind, every time I am trying to visualize their fight, with these conditions being met:

...and to end this thread on a more comical note, when I said, Sasuke's IQ lowers around Kiba, and I compared the two to Renji and Uryu, here is why. It's even more ironic when you consider, Uryu and Sasuke have the same seiyuu! Noriaki Sugiyama! Check it:

OK, OK, enough with that. Have a nice day.

Peace.