#like the line of comparison between the triggering event and the awful thing that she knows happened to me last year

[confinesofmy]

the cousin i confided in yesterday explaining how i was triggered told my other cousin (that i'm even closer with) that she was really annoyed with me for taking issue with something that wasn't even that big of a deal anyway so uhhh i'm not initiating contact with her again for a while lol. she seemed mildly annoyed when we were talking about it but i don't pick up cues well over the phone and that didn't really make sense anyway bc why would someone be annoyed at me calmly explaining one of my triggers and discussing what we can do to make everyone more comfortable next time it happens lmao so i was like "oh she's not really annoyed you're just feeling insecure bc you're irrationally afraid of showing emotions" but noooo she was fucking annoyed. she did think i was being difficult for no reason. she doesn't have fucking basic empathy for me. cool cool, cool cool cool.

[tinacxhenchang]

the perfect spot | brittina

who: @tinacxhenchang & @boardbritt

where: snowmass’ tree lighting

when: december 4th

what: Tina & Brittany accompany each other to the tree lighting, and one of them is left feeling something unexpected for the other (spoiler, it’s the shorter one).

notes: no trigger warnings

Tina was a total sucker for events like these. She loved to romanticize holidays, but Christmas and winter was by far the biggest one for her. It was probably her getting too deep into the holiday romcoms that always play on her TV during these times, but something about the lights, snow and the overall vibe of December just made her heart flutter. It was upsetting to miss out on last year's tree lighting, so it was even more exciting to go this year. "I think I'm a little too excited for this," Tina admitted, followed with a tiny squeal. "Do you wanna go get some hot chocolate first?"

Brittany loved the winter holiday season, especially because it meant that she got to spend more time with the people she cared about. It's why she asked Tina if she wanted to go to the tree lighting with her, because she hadn't gotten to see much of her the past month. "Well, you didn't come to last year's so I think you get to be doubly excited for this one," Brittany said with a smile, as she took  in Tina's enthusiasm. "Good idea." Once they were in line, Brittany said, "I have an important question that I don't think I've asked before and your answer might change the status of our friendship." She paused dramatically before asking, "do you like hot chocolate or hot cocoa better?"

Tina already felt the tickle in her stomach just being at the tree lighting, making a mental note to try her best not to cry when the tree lit up... just because it would be extremely embarrassing. With a grin, she walked alongside her friend to the hot chocolate line. "Yeah?" she replied, awaiting the serious-sounding question, though knowing Brittany it was probably going to be a trivial question. "Oh, good one. I do appreciate a really good hot chocolate when it's made right, so I wanna go for that. Hot cocoa is easier and quicker to make, which is why I usually go for it when I make it myself," she answered eloquently, nodding to herself before turning to look at Brittany. "But hot chocolate all the way. Are we still friends?"

Brittany nodded along at Tina's explanation. "Hmm. I might have to think about that cause' I think I like hot cocoa more. It's sweeter." She let out a dramatic sigh. "I guess I could look past that though," she said before grinning at Tina. After they got their drinks, Brittany took the lid off of hers and cautiously stuck the tip of her tongue into it. The reaction was almost immediate. "It's hot."

“Really? But hot chocolate is so much more decadent,” Tina protested. “Makes sense you’d like that more, though.” A soft smile appeared on her face when she saw Brittany grinning. She always appreciated how light their conversations were, something much needed in her life. The urge to take a sip once they received the hot drinks was strong, but observing her friend’s reaction, she stopped herself from going into the same trap. “I bet,” she said with a soft chuckle. “Now, where’s the perfect spot that you have been speaking of? I need to know.”

"Hmm?" Brittany was about to make a second attempt at taking a drink when Tina asked her something. "Oh! So I was thinking about it and my perfect spot might not actually be perfect for you, cause I'm taller and you might want to see different things?" She put the lid back on her cup as they started to talk towards the crowd gathered near the tree. "I can totally figure it out though! Did you want to be near the front or the back?"

"Oh. Well, that's okay, we can still try it. Ideally, I'd want to be near the front, but I trust you," Tina insisted. She wrapped her hands around her cup tightly, using the heat from the cup to warm her hands. "We should get going because the crowd is getting bigger and bigger."

“As you should.” Brittany looked over at the crowd, then back to Tina. She put a hand on Tina’s head and squished her hat down to be as flat as possible before trying to keep her hand steady to determine the other girl’s height in comparison to hers. She frowned slightly before she tilted her head and asked, “how tall are you?” before gently picking at Tina’s hat to fluff it up again.

Tina chuckled as she shook her head, correcting her hat after Brittany had fluffed it back up. "I'm 5'1"," she replied, pausing a little bit before continuing. "A very tall 5'1", thank you very much." She raised her chin and placed one of her hands on her hip to make herself a little taller. "Did you manage to calculate a good spot for me?"

"If you're adding adjectives, you forgot 'cute,' Brittany said before considering the new variable. She hummed in thought as she absentmindedly took a sip of her drink before immediately making a face because it was still hot. After taking a moment to recover, she nodded at Tina's question before grabbing her hand and dragging her over to the tree. She politely weaved their way through the crowd until they were near the front, and after another quick calculation, Brittany let go of Tina’s hand and instead put her arm around Tina’s waist to help tilt her to the correct direction. Then she leaned into the other girl’s ear and said softly, “Y’know, if anyone gets annoyed that we’re at the front you can just say you’re Press and I’m like, your hot bodyguard or something.” With that, Brittany stood up straight again and retracted her arm, giving her attention to the soon-to-be spectacle in front of them.

Tina felt a little blush creeping on her cheeks at Brittany's comment, feeling unsure of whether she should've said something about it or not. By the look of her friend's nonchalance, she ultimately decided not to. About to try to take her first sip, she was quickly whiskered away as the blonde grabbed her hand and headed towards the tree. "Oh, okay then," she mumbled, mostly to herself. She had always been very fond of Brittany - something about her effortless charm and nurturing personality had a way of making Tina feel safe. She never expected to befriend someone like her, because she knew for a fact that if this was high school, she'd run away from people like Brittany at first glance. Her heart did a tiny jump, mainly due to shock, when she felt an arm around her waist, but fell quickly into a state of comfort when her mind had processed what it was. She opened her mouth to speak, but it shut abruptly when she felt Brittany whispering into her ear, giving her all kinds of chills she didn't know she could get when already being out in the cold. "T-that sounds nice-I mean, I'll definitely do that." Crap. So much for being cool. "This is fine, though. I can see pretty decently, actually."

Brittany nodded and then pulled out her phone, half paying attention to the same speech she'd heard the years prior. It was maybe a little more theatrical than it had been before, with the Mottas being the ones having a go at delivering parts of it, but Brittany thought she had a good idea of the pacing. She sent a text message and glanced every so often between the tree and her phone, feeling a little antsy. She could feel a pair of eyes (probably Tina’s) on her, but she needed to get the timing of this right. And once the magic words were said, Brittany squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath as the countdown began. At the moment of “1,” she opened her eyes and let out her breath in a sigh as the tree became illuminated in thousands of multicolored lights. After a beat, Brittany gave a small cheers in the direction of the tree with her cup before taking a drink of her cocoa and then turned to Tina, who had definitely just watched her do at least some of that based on her expression. “It’s a thing,” she mumbled, as she shrunk a little, not wanting Tina to think she was weird or something.

Tina’s eyes focused on Al Motta as he began his speech, focusing intently on his words. It was getting longer than she preferred, but while he definitely knew how to engage an audience. She smiled and nodded along, taking sips of her hot drink ever so often. Tina looked back and forth between Brittany and the tree during the countdown, growing more excited for the “0” to hit. As the tree lit up in all the colors of the world, Tina’s face glowed up just as bright as the pine before her. She averted her gaze from the tree to look over at Brittany again who was doing... something? “What is the thing? Tell me.”

Brittany contemplated for a moment as she looked at her phone one last time before putting it back in her pocket. "It's kind of silly," she admitted. "Have you ever seen in movies where like, two people are going to be separated for a while so person 1 tells person 2 that to find a certain star, and that whenever they’re sad or lonely they can look up at the stars and know that they’re both seeing the same thing?” She waited for the look of recognition in Tina’s face before she continued, “Well, I’ve never known anybody in real life who has done that, and like, how would you know that you’re looking at the same star as the other person and not a ufo or something?”  Brittany looked over at the tree, letting her eyes take it in for a moment before turning back to Tina. “So why not do it with a tree as long as you’re in synch the first time it gets lighted up? They're usually on longer anyway, or even if you couldn't see stars at all. Plus it helps with timezones being weird."

Tina took a sip of her hot chocolate as she listened to Brittany talk, nodding slowly with every sentence. "Aw, I think that's so cute," she quickly inserted mid-way, then keeping quiet so she could finish. "That's a good point, though. I mean, if you're good at identifying planets that you can see with your bare eye, that can kind of work though. If you're both sure you're right about what you're seeing, of course." Despite how unrealistic or silly that sentiment was, she thought it was adorable, and it was definitely something she did with her high school relationships. "So... is there someone in your life you're doing this with...?" Tina was curious. Brittany was obviously a really sweet girl, beautiful as well. She wouldn't have been surprised if she had someone special in her life that she was thinking of when the tree lit up. Sigh. If only Tina had someone, too.

"Um, yes?" Brittany was pretty sure it was obvious that she had done the little ritual with someone else. "Tree lightings are a thing that's kind of transferable? between place to place. In terms of winter-y things. We don't exactly have snow in Florida, and this isn't the zoo, but it does help with the home sickness a little."

Tina scrunched her face together in doubt. "Hm, I'm not sure about that. Like, is there a tree lighting happening at the exact same time as this one somewhere? Or are you just thinking about a lit up tree in general?" she asked, admittedly a little confused. So, she wasn't having someone in mind? Tina truly didn't always understand what went through her friend's brain. "Are you thinking of someone specific?"

Brittany could see that Tina was confused. "I mean there probably are other tree lightings but not any that I'm thinking about. Or like, any big official ones anyway. But what I am saying is that if you know how long a speech is supposed to be, account for the variables of the person giving it and the fact that text messages might not be completely instantaneous, you can calculate almost the exact moment that a tree will be lit up in the Pierce household in Florida and here in Colorado at the same time. Does that make sense?" She bit her lip and tried to see if Tina was still confused about it. Brittany thought it made sense but she knew that sometimes what she meant didn't always come out sounding so clear.

"Oh," Tina breathed out, still a bit confused but it didn't really matter. The more she'd question it, the harder it would be to move on from the conversation. "That sounds very meticulous, even I don't have the brain energy to be thinking about all that." She shrugged slightly and shook her head in quick, but brief movements. "Anyway. I'm glad you got us this spot. And I'm glad you tagged along with me. I really enjoy your company," she said sincerely, looking up at Brittany with a soft smile.

Brittany still wasn't sure if Tina completely followed, but she seemed to want to move past it. "Well I was the one who asked if you wanted us to go together with the bribe of the good spot. So does this mean I'm forgiven then?" she said, looking hopeful. Britt took a sip of her drink which had cooled down considerably, which presented the opposite problem she had before. Maybe she'd get another one. Or she'd make some when she got back to her place. Tina had a confused look on her face again. "Y'know, for the donuts - the ones I didn't bring you?" she supplied. "I like spending time with you too. And I miss it. So we should go to more of these things together."

"For wh--oh, yeah. Of course, I was just kidding about that anyway," Tina said with a grin as she gently placed a hand on Brittany's arm. It made her happy hearing that Brittany liked spending time with her too - she didn't even realize that she needed that kind of affirmation from her until she got it. "Well, Snowmass is amazing at hosting cozy events like these, so I would love to go with you to the ones coming up."

Brittany returned Tina's smile. "You have my number and know where to find me usually, and I think it's more your schedule that we'd have to work with cause my lessons are in the first half of the day, but let me know if you'd want to do anything together? Or if you have any new things you've written, I'd love to hear em'," she said sincerely. Just then Brittany felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She debated not checking it, but then decided she might as well check just in case they would continue to call back. When she pulled it out she noticed it was her mom, she answered it and brought the phone to her ear and answered in a cheerful voice, "Hey! Can I call you back in like five minutes? I'm with someone right now -- not like that," Brittany rolled her eyes affectionately. "Okay, so maybe like, seven minutes, but I'll call right back, okay?" a pause, then, "love you too," before she ended the call. "That was my mom," Brittany explained . "So I should probably go. But like I said, you know where to find me." She moved her phone to the hand she was still holding her cup in and pulled Tina in for a one-armed hug, giving her a squeeze. Before completely pulling away, Brittany leaned down and placed a quick kiss on Tina's cheek. "Bye!"

"I will definitely do that," Tina beamed, already feeling excited about the next time they'd meet. As Brittany's phone rang, she stood there patiently, taking the last cold sip of her drink which was now just straight up melted chocolate starting to thicken at the bottom. She chuckled a bit at the conversation, but mostly because she didn't really know the context of it and it sounded a little silly on her end. "I do. I had a great time," she said, leaning into the hug as she squeezed back. She was about to utter the word "bye" when she felt Brittany's lips quickly peck her cheek. Even though it was a very in-character move for Brittany, Tina still found herself being caught a little off guard, possibly due to her cheeks heating up and something in her stomach doing a little flip as it happened. "B-bye," she mumbled, though it was already too late as the blonde had wandered off. Tina remained still in her spot, swallowing hard as she came to a realization about what was going on. Was she about to fall for Brittany?

[panda-noosh]

Those Bells Aren’t For Us {James x Reader}

Words: 8k

  Summary: Being single when you worked as a wedding photographer was a constant punch to your confidence. You're thankful whenever you come across a certain best man who has the same views on weddings as you do.

  Genre: fluff – angst

  Warning: James is a lil shit

  Notes: masterlist – I missed a Halloween upload because October has been unforgiving, so please take this as compensation.

  ---

   You were beginning to despise the colour white.

   A crisp white, a white that reminded people of purity and clouds. The type of colour that was seen in advertisements for fluffy bed sheets, or fancy shampoo that had no right being that smooth.

  Or, the colour that dominated weddings.

   That's where you saw it most of all, and perhaps the setting had something to do with why you hated the colour so much – it was just so prominent, the only thing you ever really saw nowadays.

   Being a photographer for weddings was a job you had never seen yourself being involved in. In university, you had enjoyed taking candid photos of people – that was your speciality. Unsuspecting passers-by, catching pure and raw emotions on peoples faces as they threw their heads back in laughter, completely unaware to you capturing every moment of said happiness.

     After leaving university, though, you had been forced into a stand-still. Nobody wanted to hire you. Nobody knew how to hire you – did they just pay you to stand in a corner and take photos of people who didn't even want their photos taken? Did they just set you up outside of a shop and ask you to take pictures of the people walking in?

   No. The only place anybody could think to put your photography skills to use was at weddings, and that was exactly where you had wound up.

   It had been fun in the beginning. Back when you were young and carefree, unable to overthink something as simple as a wedding. But as time passed and the job became more of a chore than anything else, you were given more and more time to think of your place amongst these events and that was when you had started looking at the colour white like it was something to be angry at.

     It most likely started after Keith had broken up with you. Yes. That was definitely it.

    Keith Kogane had once been the man that you saw yourself spending the rest of your life with. Call you crazy, a hopeless romantic, but Keith and you had been together for over four years and you had been completely and utterly in love with him – Keith had put you under the impression that he had felt the exact same way.

   Perhaps for some time, he had felt the same way. Nobody can pretend to be in love with another person for over four years and not feel something, and Keith had definitely treated you like somebody he loved. But you hadn't been enough for him, and soon, the two of you were walking along the river at night, and he had given you the harsh news that the spark you two once shared was just no longer present, and you were going to have to accept that.

   Since then, these weddings that you were forced to go to had been torture.

     Today was going to be no different. You knew that much from the moment you had woken up, looked at your schedule and seen that you had yet another large venue booked. You would need to dress up in all white, do your hair all fancy, practise your fake smile and your congratulations in the mirror before you left – all of which sounded most drab in comparison to simply staying in bed and rotting into the mattress.

   However, you needed to pay bills. That was your only motivation as you dragged yourself from the cosy and familiar confines of your bed and sauntered over to your dressing table where you promptly got ready for the day. After taking a quick shower, you dabbed some make up on your face, put the ratchet white dress on and headed out the door for yet another gut wrenching day of work.

   The venue in question was massive; an entire hotel had been booked to accommodate the hundreds of guests who would be in attendance – you, of course, included. The hotel itself was clearly five star, two door men standing on either side of the large, oak double doors, greeting people with nods and grins as they filed in. Pillars stood outside with white flowers dangling from them, and wedding music was already playing loud and clear from the crowded lobby.

   You straightened your camera, inhaled deeply, and entered.

   Immediately you were sucked into another world; this was a common feeling for you whenever you actually stepped foot inside of a wedding venue. Despite your hostility and ongoing heartbreak, it was impossible to attend a wedding as beautiful as this one and not feel something close to awe. It hit you like a ton of bricks this time, the white banners and the pretty flower petals cheering you up just that little bit.

    “Ah, you must be Y/N!” a voice sounded from somewhere in the thick crowd.

   You whirled around, very nearly knocking someone out cold with the camera in your hands. You quickly apologised, seconds before Romelle – the wedding planner – threw herself into your arms and forced you into a hug. The camera pressed into her lower stomach, making the hug most awkward, but Romelle was clearly in too good of a mood to care too much about that.

   She pushed you away. You stumbled, catching yourself on a chair behind you.

    “I'm so glad you could make it!” she exclaimed. “I saw some of your other works on the websites I was looking through, and I must say that you truly have a gift with the lens. The pictures you take are fascinating!”

   You forced a smile on your face. “Thank you. That means a-”

   “Come this way.” She snatched your hand from your side and started towards the back room. “The bride and groom are yet to arrive, but I don't think it's all that important for you to meet them just yet. We can wait until the ceremony is over and then we can do our introductions, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Until then, I would like you to stay near the edges. Keep yourself hidden. The pictures we want our meant to look like the people have no idea you're even there – natural, almost.”

  “Natural,” you repeated.

   “Mm. That's your speciality, isn't it?”

  She turned to look at you over her shoulder, though she continued speaking before you could answer her question.

    “You don't have a seat for the main ceremony. As I said, we want you to just remain near the corners, taking photos whenever you think necessary – you're the professional, so I'm trusting you to get the right shots all throughout the day. The bride and groom are most excited to get a lot of these pictures framed and hung up around their house, so keep that in mind whenever you're taking the pictures.”

   “I-”

  “Here we are!” Romelle squealed once before shoving you in front of her. Once again, you very nearly fell over your own two feet with the intensity of which she had shoved you, though you just managed to catch yourself before falling face first into the plush carpet of the room you were being ushered into.

   It wasn't much. There were two brown sofas set up on either side of the room, a single TV placed between them that was currently playing a re-run of Friends. There was a table adorned with wine and little trays of cut-up vegetables that did very little to trigger your appetite.

    “You can set up in here if you like,” Romelle said. “I'll come and get you when you're needed. Please, feel free to help yourself to the appetisers. We don't want you walking around hungry, do we?” She laughed, nodded to you and finally left the room in a bustle of dress skirts and over enthusiasm.

   For a moment, you could do nothing but stare into thin air; had that truly just happened? Had you genuinely just been shoved into a room, all but forgotten about?

   You hollowed out your cheeks, silently reminded yourself that this was for next months rent – you needed to keep your will power in check, or else you would end up homeless.

    But at least you had wine to drown out your sorrows this time. Perhaps that would make this job a little more bearable.

   Before you could think better of it, you uncorked the bottle of wine and poured a little bit into the cup provided. You slumped down on the sofa, turned your attention to the television as you sipped at the bubbling drink – you weren't even that big of a fan of wine, but you needed something to keep you going today. There was no way in hell you were going to be able to get through this entire day without a little boost.

   You must have been sat for a half hour before the door finally opened.

   You shot upright. You hadn't even finished your first glass of wine, struggling to fight through your distaste for the beverage, but you felt as if your senses were already beginning to slow. You turned to the door, expecting to see Romelle bustling in, but were surprised to see that it was not Romelle at all.

   It was a man – a man who most definitely did not want to be there.

    He didn't look up from the floor. It took him a moment to notice the room was occupied at all, his blue-grey eyes tracing over the bottle of wine before finally landing on you. It was then that he raised one of his brows and slowly closed the door, pointing wordlessly to the bottle.

   Hesitantly, you held the bottle out to him. Again, without a single word shared between you, he took the bottle from your hands, slumped down on the sofa across from you and started drinking directly from it.

   You could do nothing but watch him closely. He didn't look much older than you – maybe by a year or two, judging by the lines beside his eyes, but nothing too drastic. He wore a dark blue suit, the top buttons undone and laying askew against his collar bones. His bow tie had been undone and was also hanging limp around his neck, his dishevelled brown hair only adding to the look of carelessness that he was clearly trying to give off.

    He kept his eyes on the television between you; you wanted to do the same, wanted to pretend like you were just as carefree as he was, but he had grabbed your attention most tightly within only a few minutes. He had walked in with absolutely nothing to say, didn't even care that the small room was already occupied. He was also very clearly a part of the ceremony, judging by the fancy suit he was wearing.

    It took him a few moments to realise you were staring at him.

   He looked up, raised one eyebrow. “Why have you brought that big ass camera to the wedding?”

   You started, clutching your camera tight to your side. You quickly looked away, afraid that he had seen you staring at him so intensely.

   “I'm not a guest,” you said quickly. “I'm the photographer.”

  He grunted. “Oh right. I probably should have guessed that.”

    “And what are you? A groomsman?”

   He scoffed. “The best of the best, aren't I? Ryan decided to make me best man, so I had no choice but to dress up in this stupid suit and make a fool of myself.”

   You opened your mouth to reply, but no response seemed good enough, so you stayed silent. The man hollowed out his cheeks, shook his head dumbly and took yet another swig from the wine bottle.

   “I shouldn't be so grumpy,” he grumbled, more-so to himself than to you, it seemed. “He's happy. My best friend is happy, and that should be all that matters, right?”

   You hummed in response.

    “But I just hate these things. The fluffy vibe, the way everybody is trying so hard to get along even though it's obvious that Ryan's family hates Nadia's family – they're just trying to be civil for the sake of the event. The fakest shit I've ever seen. Makes me cringe.”

    “It'll be over by tomorrow.”

   The man scoffed. “That's where you're wrong – today is just the beginning, I think. I'll have to deal with babysitting their children next, won't I? Because that's the next step. Making a family, Ryan getting a normal job, completely forgetting about me because he has other important things to deal with.” He shrugged loosely. “To hell with them all, I say. Whenever they're old and debating getting a divorce, I'll still be free as a damn bird, doing whatever the hell I want with no strings attached.”

   You winced. “You really don't want to be here, do you?”

  The man froze, bottle halfway to his lips. His features slowly softened, as if realisation was finally dawning on him. “God, what kind of wine is this? It's clearly gone straight to my head.”

    “You know what they say; a drunk mans words are a sober mans thoughts.”   The man's eyes flicked up, glancing at you through the top of his eyelids. “I'm James.”

    “Y/N.”

   James slowly leaned back in his chair, finally making the wise decision to set the wine bottle down. He instead reached into the deep pockets of his dress trousers and tugged out a tiny, travel-sized water bottle.

    “Y/N,” he repeated, as if testing your name out. “You won't tell anyone about my little outburst there, will you?”

   You shook your head immediately. “Of course not. I'm just here on business.”

   “So you don't know anyone?”

   “Not a single person. I didn't even know the bride and grooms names until just now.”

   James hummed as he continued to inspect you, as if expecting you to do something totally bizarre; you simply sat there, hands knotted in your lap, mind racing at one hundred miles per hour. Why was he looking at you like that? Why was he still in here, keeping up a conversation with a person he didn't even know?

     “Well, I'll keep you company,” he said finally.

   Your eyes snapped up. “What? No. You don't have to-”

   He raised a silencing hand. “I've got nothing better to do. Once my duties as best man are finished, I'm gonna be left in the dirt for the rest of the day. I might as well spend my time getting drunk with a pretty girl, shouldn't I?” He smirked, took a sip of his water before sighing and leaning back in his seat.

   You eyed him curiously. He had the personality of a teenager, but there was something oddly compelling about it. The way he smirked, tilted his head back, held himself with so much confidence despite the clear self-consciousness that he had been spewing to you for the past half hour; he was afraid his friends were going to leave him. He was afraid he was going to be alone, and he masked that in the best way he could think of – by pretending it didn't bother him in the slightest.

   You didn't know him, had only been speaking to him for a half hour, and yet you felt as if you could see right through him. Perhaps it was because you felt the exact same way. Being left behind by people you thought would be in your life forever was a terrifying thing to think about, and you were able to spot whenever somebody else felt the same way.

    The idea of your friends moving on, getting their life on track before you have even figured out what you want to do for a living was one that had you panicking.

    You took another sip of your wine, leaned back and tried to shove the thoughts from your head. At least now you had someone you could talk to throughout the day.

   ---

   The ceremony was beautiful. As had been expected by all of the decorations hung up around the venue.

   You stayed true to the orders that had been given to you and pressed yourself firmly against the walls, making little movement and little noise – the only time people really noticed your presence was when the camera would click, signalling you had taken yet another photograph, and even then they didn't seem bothered by you being there.

   The bride, Nadia, looked gorgeous walking down the aisle. Her black hair was done up to perfection, though you cringed to think of just how long it took to get it to stand up on its own like that. She was crying even before she had reached the dais, and Ryan – the groom – had been forced to wrap his arms around her and tug her into an embrace before the ceremony had begun.

   You had glanced over at James, just barely catching the moment he rolled his eyes at the sight.

    James himself looked handsome standing upon the dais, despite the lazy and carefree demeanour he was still trying to put on. His bow tie had been done back up, his suit straightened out and his hair as neat as he could make it. Strands still stuck out around his head, and it still flopped against his forehead in a way that was too casual for the setting, but he was pulling it off and definitely grabbing your attention.

     The vows were shared, pictures were taken, and then Ryan and Nadia were exiting the venue together, leaving the guests to chitter about what they had just seen. You huddled yourself further into the corner, tapping through the pictures you had taken, hoping and praying that some of them were decent. You were certain Romelle would be-

   “Let me see.”

   Your camera was snatched from your hand. You looked up quickly. James stood before you, a lollipop now placed in his mouth as he thumbed through your gallery.

   “Hey!” you exclaimed, snatching the camera back. “Those aren't for you.”

   “I hope you got my good side,” he said.

  “You weren't my main focus. It isn't your wedding.”

   James scoffed. “Damn right it isn't.” He sucked harshly on the lollipop before taking it out of his mouth. “Although I think that's a bit cruel. I'm playing a big part today.”

    “I'm sure you are. But it's quite difficult to get a decent picture of somebody who was scowling the entire time.” You raised a brow. “I thought you wanted to be happy for your friend?”

   James frowned. “I am happy for him!”

   “Then why did you look like a slapped bulldog when you were standing up there?”

   James scoffed, furrowing his brows at your choice of wording. You didn't care. You found yourself growing more and more curious as to the true reason behind James's hostility, despite only knowing the man for a few hours.

    “I didn't think I looked too bad,” he grumbled, tugging on his lapels. “In fact, I think I look fairly decent in a suit.”

   “You know that's not what I meant.”

  James shrugged. “Then I don't know what you mean, and I don't care.” Before you could react or push the subject any further, James grabbed your hand and started towards the exit. “Come on. Drink reception is happening soon and I desperately need something to keep me standing upright.”

   “And you think alcohol is going to do that for you?” you asked through a giggle, stumbling behind him.

   James smirked, turned and winked at you over his shoulder. “It'll keep me awake at least.”

    ---

     “So tell me about this little job you've got going on here.”

  You turned, glass of wine in your hand and camera dangling idly from your neck. James was stood behind you, one hand tucked messily into the pocket of his trousers whilst the other held a glass bottle containing some kind of strong smelling beer.

    “I'm a photographer,” you replied simply.

   James scoffed. “I caught on to that part. But what do you actually do? Do you enjoy it? Are people nice to you? Does it pay well?”

    “So many questions for somebody who said he didn't care.”

   He waved a dismissive hand. “Just talk. I wanna get to know you.”

    His comment was innocent, and yet your cheeks started to heat up nonetheless. You looked away, curled your lips around your glass and took an extra long sip of your wine before replying.

    “I take pictures of people at weddings,” you said. “Nothing special. It's boring for the most part, but I get to see all these beautiful ceremonies and everybody is so happy, so I guess that's a bonus. People tend to ignore me until they want professional pictures taken, and then all of a sudden I'm the best person in the room. As for payment – well – it's a bit rude to ask somebody about their income, isn't it?”

   James's eyes flared, a smile growing on his face. “Sounds like you have the time of your life. And you don't bring anyone to these things? Not even a plus-one?”

  You shrugged. “I don't need a plus-one. I'm used to standing around on my own.”

   “You know, maybe one day you should get in on that bouquet throwing thing the bride does – imagine how wild it would be if you caught it.”

   You scoffed. “It would be wild considering I'm single.”

   James frowned. There was a shift in the air, a tension that had not been there before now placed between you. You winced at it, slowly turned back to look towards the main floor where people were mingling absent-mindedly – you knew exactly what James had been talking about when he mentioned the tension between the bride and grooms families. Any other drink reception you had been to had consisted of loud chatter, laughter, happiness on both parts. Now, the chatter was nothing louder than a low murmur, the music dominating the majority of the space.

    James stepped up beside you. You could feel his presence, the way he towered over you so drastically, the way his shoulder gently brushed against yours as he took a swig of his beer, watching the same scene as you.

    “Is it not torture having to stand around a wedding whenever you're single?” he asked suddenly.

   You inhaled sharply, tensing. What a strange question to ask.

   You glanced up at him, inspecting his face for any sign that he was joking – but there was none. His lips were pulled into a thin line, his blue-grey eyes continuing their rounds of the dance floor, his hand still lazily shoved into his pockets in a way that told you he did not give a single shit about what he was saying.

    “No,” you said slowly. “I don't – I don't tend to think about it too much, actually.”

   He paused and then nodded. “I think I'd be driven insane.”

   You raised a brow. “You really don't like being single, do you?”

   That caught his attention. His eyes popped open wide, the bottle dropping from his lips as he turned to look at you in shock. “What's that supposed to mean?”

   “I mean, I'm just saying – you've complained an awful lot about how lonely you are for the past four hours. It just seems to me like-”

   “Like nothing,” he spat, and this time he sounded genuinely angry. “I love being single. In fact, I think marriage is the stupidest thing on the planet. Why would you tie yourself down like that, all legal and shit? It's too much effort for something that might not even work out.”

   “I think you're looking at it the wrong way.”

   “I think other people are looking at it the wrong way, acting like they're life isn't complete unless they can get someone to put a rock on their damn hand.” He scoffed. “Other people won't bring you happiness – not the kind that counts, anyway. It's about time this generation stopped pretending that they will.”

    You were stunned. Shamelessly, you stared at up the side of James's face, examining him, somehow trying to crack open who this man truly was – but again, his features were stone cold. His brows were furrowed, the bottle being brought back to his lips in a way that startled you just that little bit – he would have to make the best man speech today. It was only 3.30pm and he was already on his third beer of the day.

    You looked away, pursing your lips. You had no right to chastise him for his beliefs, for his inner demons. You were going to be here for another few hours, take the professional pictures that had been requested before you were due to head home to your freezing cold apartment to wallow in self pity before you would wake up tomorrow and repeat the process. You had no reason to babysit this stranger standing beside you – even if his actions and his words were beginning to worry you a little bit.

   Drink reception lasted only an hour and a half before you were all being led back into the hotel for wedding breakfast. By this time, the winter had already dominated the skies, meaning it was beginning to get dark. Coloured lanterns floated up into the sky with flames tinkling on the inside of them – the sight was beautiful.

     “Get a picture of that,” James said, nudging your elbow.

   You did so. Not because he had told you to, but because the sight was one made to capture. It was as if the lanterns had been set up for the soul purpose of you snapping a picture of them.

    Once again, you stayed close to the walls as the wedding breakfast went on. You ate away at the buffet table with permission from the bride herself, and found yourself genuinely enjoying your time there. With the bride and groom now present in the room, spirits were definitely higher and the families of the two were speaking a little bit more freely – you would be an idiot to claim there was no sense of tension mixing in with the friendly banter, but perhaps the alcohol had loosened their tongues a little bit.

    You glanced over at James far more than you would have liked to. He was sat beside Ryan, chatting animatedly with his best friend, definitely in higher spirits from how he had been outside. He laughed and joked, slapping his best friend on the shoulder before the two of them would throw their heads back and howl in laughter; you found yourself smiling, though you weren't entirely sure why.

    You did your job in complete silence, parading around the tables and asking people if they would mind having their pictures taken. Elderly women held up wine glasses and smiled awkwardly into the lens, whilst the younger kids jumped from their seats and posed in the middle of the floor, forcing a chorus of laughter to emerge from the other guests. You grinned, politely thanked them all before moving on.

   It wasn't long until you had reached the big table – the table where the bride and groom were sitting.

  The table where James was sitting.

   You waltzed up to it with as much confidence as you could muster. Even before you had reached the table, James's eyes were firm on you, watching your every movement as if you were his prey and he was waiting for the right moment to pounce. You hoped that you didn't stumble under his gaze, that you could somehow find the strength to ignore him as you spoke to the bride and groom.

    The last thing you wanted was for James to know that his gaze alone was enough to make you flustered.

    “Y/N! I thought you'd forgotten about us,” Ryan joked, leaning over the table to shake your hand.

   You smiled warmly. “Of course not. I was just saving the best for last. Now, would you like a picture taken as a keepsake for later on?”

   Ryan nodded, wrapping an arm around his new wifes shoulders. You couldn't help but glance over at James, watching his tanned face flush. He took yet another rough sip of his drink, turning away to look at the crowd.

   You pursed your lips and started snapping pictures of the posing bride and groom, encouraging them in that way that only a true photographer knew how to do; little comments, telling them to shift their pose, telling them how good of a job they were doing and how good they both looked. It took every fibre of your being to ignore the scoffs emerging from James every few seconds – scoffs that Ryan nor Nadia seemed to take note of in their moment of after-wedding bliss.

    Finally, the last picture was upon them. Of course, it was only natural for Ryan to turn and press his lips to Nadia's. You weren't shocked by the action. You had been in this business for a while now, and this was a common pose for the bride and groom to take. You simply smiled, snapped the picture and-

   James scoffed once again. Your temper bubbled over.

   “How about we get some pictures of you with the best man?” you asked.

   James's eyes widened, snapping to you in panic. You grinned at him, turned back to Ryan with a raised brow.

   Ryan was all for it, of course. He cheered, wrapped his arm around James's shoulders and smiled brightly for the camera; you encouraged him even more now, saying things like, “Come on, James! Chin up! You don't want to be looking like a child in the photo albums, do you?”

   James was trying so hard to seem enthusiastic. He even went as far as to wrap his arms around his friend, placing an extremely strained grin on his face in the process; it made you laugh, though you covered it up as best as you could with your own snide comments thrown into the mix.

    Finally, you decided to let the man live. You tugged the camera away from your face, thanked the bride and groom with courtesy before you winked at James, turned on your heel and headed back into your dark little corner to inspect the pictures you had taken.

   All of them had turned out perfectly. You couldn't help but giggle to yourself when you came upon the ones with James, looking at how awkward he seemed with his best friends arm wrapped tight around his neck, tugging him into his side, making it so clear that he didn't want to be there in the slightest.

   That's what he got for being so negative all the time.

   Clink clink clink.

   You looked up, letting the camera drop back against your stomach. Ryan and Nadia were both standing up now, Ryan with a glass and spoon in his hands that he had clearly just used to gather the attention of his guests.

   “Everyone, thank you all so much for coming today,” he started. “It really has been an incredible day, and I'm sure you all have a lot to say. So, we're gonna dive right into the speeches!”

    The crowd cheered, even though they didn't have to. Nadia's father was the first one to make a speech. Nadia started crying, tugged her dad into a hug and thanked him kindly; it was a pure sight, and you were unable to stop yourself from taking a few memorable pictures of their loving embrace.

    “And now, the best man speech,” said Nadia through tears.

   James stiffened. Ryan span in his chair, giving his best friend a quick nudge in the elbow with a large smile on his face – you flushed despite yourself, watching the anxiety suddenly appear on James's face. He was bright red, lips slightly swollen from the amount of times he had placed a cold bottle against them.

   Oh god. He was in no fit state to be making public speeches right now.

   You forced yourself to keep your eyes on him when he finally stood up and started fumbling around in his pocket. He cursed loudly, making a few of the parents in the crowd scowl and quickly cover their childrens ears. Finally, James hit the jackpot and tugged the ripped piece of paper out of his trousers, unfolding it with hesitant fingers.

     “Thank you, everyone,” he started, voice hoarse from alcohol. Ryan was already starting to catch on to what was happening, a scowl forming on his face. “Uh – my name is James Griffin, and I'm Ryan's best friend. Ryan. The – uh – the groom. The lucky man himself.” He winced, slapped a hand against Ryan's shoulders before continuing. “Ryan and I met at the Garrison a few years back. I don't really remember how long ago it was, but I don't think that matters, because the things we've been through together would count as an eternity anyway.”

   You smiled. That was nice.

   “Like that one time I nearly cut my left leg off in a flight demo and Ryan had to be there to stop the bleeding.”

   A child in the audience cried out. Ryan's eyes widened. Nadia's jaw fell, her hand snapping out to wrap around her husbands lower arm.

   James didn't take notice of these startled reactions, however, as he continued on his speech.

    “Ryan and Nadia have been together for an awfully long time, too. I didn't like Nadia when I first met her, because I thought she was some kind of spy or something.” He snickered. “Then I realised that she has the flexibility of an iron pole, so that wasn't possible.”

  “Okay-” Ryan began, reaching up to grab James's arms, but the man was on a roll and he clearly had no intentions of stopping.

    “When Ryan proposed, I told him I was happy for him, even though I knew it would be the worst mistake of his life. See, the thing about being somebody's best friend is that you have to support them through everything, don't you? Even if you're fairly certain they're gonna destroy their life, you have to suck it up and let them make those kind of mistakes on their own, figure out where they went wrong so they can avoid that same mistake for next time.” James turned to face Ryan fully then, grinning from ear to ear. “Just remember that I'll be right here, ready to welcome you back whenever this marriage goes to shit and you need a drinking buddy. I love you man.”

   That was the final straw. You looked at Ryan for the space of two seconds before you had gathered his entire demeanour – he was not happy, and if James did not get out of his face at that very moment, all hell would break loose.

   You weren't sure what came over you, where this surge of protectiveness and confidence suddenly came from, but you were marching your way up to the big table before you could comprehend your own actions.

   James span around when he noticed you walking towards him. “Y/N! My other single friend!”

   “Be quiet,” you hissed, snatching his hand into your own and dragging him away from his seat. You quickly turned to Ryan and Nadia, mouthed sorry before you quickened your pace and trailed James into the lobby of the hotel.

    He was drunk. So, so drunk. You could smell it on his suit, could feel the sweat coming from his palms, see the sweat coming from his forehead.

   “Why did you let yourself get in such a state?” you grumbled, fishing a napkin out of your pocket and using it to dab at the sweat on James's forehead.

   He closed his eyes and hummed against the sensation, one of his hands slowly coming up to curl around your wrist. His touch reminded you of feathers with how light it was, fingertips pattering against your skin. He didn't want to control your movements; he just wanted to feel your flesh beneath his fingers.

    “James,” you whispered, shaking your head. “Do you have any idea what you've just done?”

  “I think I messed up,” he whispered back, eyes still closed and that stupid smile still tugging on his lips. “Ryan's never going to talk to me again.”

   You sighed. “I wouldn't bet on it.”

   “What a plot twist!” he suddenly burst, eyes snapping open and grip tightening on your wrist. He looked right at you as he said, “It turns out that it wasn't marriage that destroyed mine and Ryan's friendship. It was me!” He laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, that's insane. Was not expecting that.”

   Even though he was yelling, smiling, jumping from side-to-side like an excited toddler, you could recognise that disguised pain in anybodies voice. He was not happy. He was not excited. He knew full well the true extent of what he had done, of what he had just lost.

   You weakly smiled back at him, wrapped an arm around his waist and tugged him into you.

   ---

   You were too worried to leave him on his own.

   He had passed out only a few minutes after you had managed to drag him into the back room of the wedding reception. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was drifting off to sleep with that smile still lazily etched onto his features, one hand knotted in his hair whilst the other hung loosely off the edge of the sofa cushions.

  You were meant to leave. You knew full well that you should have gotten back to your job, should have been back out there capturing moments, but you had instead sat yourself down across from him and watched him like a hawk, as if afraid he would do something stupid in his sleep.

   At this point, you wouldn't put it past him.

    You heard the wedding guests filing out of the dinner hall. They were cheering; the bride and groom were leaving, and clearly James's words had had little effect on the mood of the day. Nonetheless, you stayed with him, bunched up on the sofa with your knees pressed to your chest and camera laying idly by your side.

   You weren't sure when you fell asleep. You were shaken awake. Eyes snapping open, you bolted upright and grabbed for the first thing you could find – which just so happened to be the lapels of James's blazer.

   You tugged, sending James toppling forward. He just managed to stabilise himself with one hand on the sofa cushions behind you, his face now inches from yours. You winced, pushed him away as the stench of alcohol attacked your senses.

    “You're awake. Finally,” you said.

  “What are you still doing in here?” He sounded exasperated, running a hand through his brown hair.

   You raised a brow. “You didn't just expect me to pack up and leave, did you? I thought you were gonna choke on your own tongue.”

  “That didn't stop you from falling asleep though, did it?” He raised a brow at you in that judgemental way you had seen all too often tonight. You rolled your eyes, threw a pillow at him which he caught with swiftness before hugging it close to his chest. “I hope to god you didn't stay with me the entire time. Romelle won't give you your wages if you only did half the job.”

   Your stomach fell. You had made the conscious decision to stay with James, despite knowing the consequences. You had no right to be shocked now.

   You shrugged lazily, trying to pretend like you didn't care, like you weren't struggling for money at the moment. “It's fine.”

 James's eyes widened. “What do you mean it's fine? You spend an entire day at some strangers wedding and you don't even get what you came here for.”

   “I got a bit more than what I came here for.” You tilted your head. “You've been quite the experience, James Griffin.”

    He stared at you, a blush rising on his face. “How do you do that?”

    “Do what?”

  “That!” he exclaimed, flopping back against the sofa. “I'm so used to people just accepting what I say as gospel or something, because I'm the leader of the MFE's. But you – you don't let anything past, do you?”

   You shrugged. “I didn't know you were the leader of the MFE's, so-”  

   “You also know how to make the leader of the MFE's extremely flustered.” He folded his arms over his chest, glared at you. “I hate it. Stop it.”

   Despite everything that had happened, the stupidity and selfishness James had shown, you couldn't stop yourself from laughing at his oh-so-innocent comments, the small pout forming on his face.

    “You look like a three year old when you pout like that,” you said.

   James rolled his eyes. “There you go again.”

     “I can't help that you're so easy to pick on.”

   James grumbled as he stood up, dragging his coat along with him. You watched his every movement with a stupid grin on your face, one that seemed so natural despite what had happened today.

   James started towards the door, still grumbling under his breath before he suddenly stopped and turned to look at you over his shoulder. You froze under his gaze, tilting your head to the side, awaiting what he had to say.

   “You know, we both had a lot to drink tonight,” he started. “The taxi fare will be cheaper if you stay over at mine tonight and we share one.”

    Your eyes widened, heart suddenly thundering at a million miles per hour. James must have noticed the sudden change in your demeanour, as that shit-eating grin of his split his face once again.

    You swallowed thickly, nodded before you could think better of it. The thought of going back to your cold apartment had been bothering you all day, anyway – now that you had a chance to be anywhere else, you were going to take it as soon as possible.

    Yes. That was the reason why you were nodding, scrambling to gather up your belongings. It wasn't just because it was James asking you to go with him.

   No. It wasn't that at all.

   ----

   “You didn't tell me the bride and grooms names,” James hissed, appearing beside you.

   You jumped, very nearly dropping your camera in the process. You whirled around to glare at your plus-one, but his face was neutral as he sipped casually on a bottle of water, looking out at the crowd forming in the castle gardens.

    “Because I didn't think you'd want to go up and talk to them,” you replied. “Where's your tie gone?”

  “I took it off.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don't know these people. I'm only here so I can see you twirl around in that pretty dress of yours.” He smirked, leaned forward as if expecting a kiss, but you were a professional. Even though every bone in your body wanted to meet him half way and completely ravish him in that suit, you pulled away and placed your fingertips against his awaiting lips.

   He frowned, eyebrows furrowing.

   “I'm working,” you said. “You know we can't be doing that kind of thing here.”

   “If anything, I think this is the best place for it,” he shot back, trailing behind you when you started walking through the crowd with your camera raised. “Remember when we first met and I used to hate these things?”

  “You still do hate these things.”

   “Not so much now,” he protested. “I'm not single any more. They aren't so depressing.”

   You scoffed. “Are we only together so you can feel better about yourself during weddings?”

   His hand wound around your waist, tugging you into his side. “Although that's a definite bonus, I'm also head over heels in love with you.” He pulled away then. “Which I honestly don't understand, considering all we did was contradict each other that first day we met.”

   “Actually, I contradicted you,” you corrected. “You were too deep in your feelings, and too drunk, to come up with good arguments.”

  “Ah. At least you remember the state I was in that day.”

  “I remember it well.”

    James scowled, playfully pinching your elbow. You giggled, could barely help yourself when you stood up on your tippy toes and placed an innocent kiss to his cheek. Despite James trying his hardest to come across as the uncaring, macho man that the Garrison knew him as, you still managed to pry a blush from his cheeks at the simplest of touches. You grinned from ear to ear, a slight bounce in your step as you pulled away from him and started back through the crowd. James, as per usual, continued his unintelligible grumbling, following close behind you.

    It still amazed you how much he had changed in the few months it had been since you met. He still spoke about marriage as if it was some kind of curse, continually asking you if you would ever just elope with him rather than go through the works of some massive ceremony where the entire family would be invited and things would have to go perfectly – you had told him on multiple occasions that you didn't care how the ceremony went, as long as it was James you were spending the rest of your life with at the end of it all.

    It was cheesy, language you never would have used before. Even with Keith, you two had never spoken so openly about the idea of marriage, because even though you had been certain you were in love, talking about something so permanent just added a tiny bit of pressure.

   But with James, it was natural. It was something you both spoke about casually, as if the idea of marriage wasn't something that had once disgusted your boyfriend.

    You were happy to see his views changing to something more positive, but what you had said was true – you didn't need to marry him, didn't need a ring on your finger or your name signed on some legal documents. As long as you were with James, you didn't care whether you were just called girlfriend or wife.

   ----

   You sighed, stretching your arms out above your head. James grunted, shifting beneath you as your hands very nearly clipped him on the nose.

   You grumbled, rolling over and placing your head on his chest. “Sorry.”

   “You tired?” he asked through a chuckle, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and nuzzling his nose in your hair.

   You couldn't do much more than nod against his chest.

   He chuckled again. “You said you'd watch Stranger Things with me.”

   “I will. I'm still awake.”

  “Your eyes are closed.”

  “I can listen to it.”

   “Y/N.” He sighed, shifting so he could press his lips to your temple. “Go to sleep. We can watch it another day.”

   You groaned. “You said that yesterday! We need to watch it tonight.”

  “Why do we?”

   “Because you want to watch it, and I said I would watch it with you.” You forced your eyes open, perching your chin against his chest so you could look up at him. “As your girlfriend, it's my job to make sure you don't watch any Netflix series without me. That's the rule.”

   James smiled. It was a perfect smile, one you would never get tired of, one that sent butterflies parading through your stomach that you quickly stifled by nuzzling your head back into his chest and pointing towards the TV.

   “Turn it on then. Let's get watching.”

   James sighed, reaching for the remote. “I love you so much, you know.”

  “I love you, too.”

    “Even though you're a complete pain in my ass the majority of the time,” he added. “You still make me the happiest bloke on the planet.”

   You smiled. “James, stop. You're gonna make me cry.”

   “Maybe that'll wake you up a little bit,” he teased, pinching your sides. You squealed, slid away from him before you started missing his warmth and nuzzled back into his side. “You do know that you changed my life, though, don't you?”

   You froze. “James...”

   He sighed dreamily, still casually surfing through the shows on the Netflix homepage. He passed Stranger Things twice without noticing.

    “When I first met you, I was a complete asshole, and yet you still took care of me. You still said yes whenever I asked you out on that date. You still said yes whenever I asked you to move in with me. You saw that I was just angry because of my own selfish reasons, and you gave me a chance to prove myself to you. The fact that I managed to find someone so understanding and so kind still blows my mind to this day.”

   “I love you, James. You don't need to be shocked that I'm still around.”

   He nodded, hugging you a little bit tighter. “But I want – I want you to be around for the rest of my life, you know? I want you to know that I'm in this forever, even if I can come off as a little heartless sometimes, or like I don't care. I want to prove to you that I'm serious about this.”

   You froze. “James, what are you-”

   He sat up. You scrambled at the movement, pulling back in the blankets, but his hands shot up and wrapped around your arms. It was only then did you see the look on his face, that small, tired smile exaggerated by his bloodshot eyes and messy hair – he looked so James right now, like the James only you were ever allowed to see because you were the only person in the world he trusted this much.

   You watched him with wide eyes – eyes that were already beginning to fill with tears – as he reached beneath the sofa and tugged out a black, velvet box. Your heart skipped a beat. Air had long since been knocked from your lungs, leaving you with your jaw hanging open and tears streaming down your face.

   He looked up at you nervously, awkwardly chuckling at the sight of your startled face. “I guess you can already tell what I'm gonna ask, huh?”

   “Are you sure?” you whispered.

   “More sure than I've ever been about anything in my entire life.”

   “Please say it. I want to hear you say it.”

  James smiled, slowly leaned forward and pressed his forehead against your own. “Y/N L/N, love of my life – will you do me the absolute honour of becoming my wife?”

     To you, the answer was obvious. There was no other reply you could give him other than the one that was balancing on the end of your tongue at this very moment.

   You smiled, leapt forward and nuzzled your head into his neck, sobbing against his skin as the world slowly knitted itself back together around you – the world that had once been so unsure and so scary, so big and vast, now seemed to shrink a little bit, now seemed to grow a little bit more understandable, because you knew now that you wouldn't have to face any of it alone.

   You would have the love of your life right beside you the entire time, and you couldn't think of anything you would have wanted more.

    “Yes, James. Of course I'll marry you.”

[nelrunari]

❖ AND THE DREAM CALLS: EULALIE HOLMES.

Character Name: Eulalie Holmes

↳ Alias: Chuu Rosetta, the former leader of The Bird’s Chuus. She doesn’t remember her death, nor the fact the group has since been forgotten. 

Pronouns: She/Her

Age: 24 

Trigger Warnings: death mention, memory loss

Appearance:  Standing at about 5’9”, Eulalie is a lanky and fair-skinned young woman. She has a beauty mark under her lip on the left side of her face, and bright ice-blue eyes, almond-shaped and often hidden between the now-decorative blue frames of her glasses. Her hair is naturally blonde, but she’s dyed it frequently enough; at present there are dark brown roots slowly fading into a light silver, and she prefers to keep it tied back in a ponytail, with a feather accessory keeping her bangs out of her eyes. She has the beginnings of worry lines between her brows. It’s often you’ll find her huddled up on herself, trying to make herself look a bit smaller.

As Chuu Rosetta, the only notable difference from her human self were the lack of glasses, the wings that sprouted from her back, and her hair taking on a pearlescent color. In contrast to her civilian form, she stands more confidently. 

Personality: 

Positive Traits: articulate, careful, clever, dependable, determined, efficient, gentle, hopeful, humble, observant, optimistic, patient, sincere, tactful. 

Negative Traits: altruistic, anxious, cloudcuckoolander, complacent, critical, finicky, insecure, naive, shallow, suspicious, timid, weak-willed. 

MBTI: isfp.

TEMPERAMENT: phlegmatic.

ALIGNMENT: lawful good.

Background: To understand Eulalie, all you need to know is that she’s very fond of facts. Nothing is ever coincidental; there’s a reason behind every action, every event, and every word someone puts out into the world. In many cases, the reason is a complicated one: they might be a bit more emotional, so whatever they say or do comes out cluttered, or something beyond the metaphysical pushed two people together into the same room, or something difficult to understand suddenly makes a lot of sense once the effort is put in to understand it.

Meeting Marisol, a talking lizard companion that she had come to adopt rather impulsively, would fall into the second example. Her reaction to it would fall under the first. It was finals week, you see. She didn’t have the time to consider if too many sleepless nights had sent her right over the edge into full-blown delirium, and this thing was just a figment of her imagination begging her to rest; she didn’t think anything of it when she snapped back at it to come back a week later when she has the time to deal with it--foolishly assuming that it was just a joke her brain played.

The lizard huffed, agreed to the terms, and left. ...Only to come back a week later, just as Eulalie had asked it to. Except this time it was a little less patient with her, and she nearly threw it across her room when she woke up and it was nestled on her chest--staring. 

It let her have her little fit, armed with a pillow clutched tight to her chest and pen pointed sharply in its direction. Tilted its head, asked if she was done, and although she didn’t speak she nodded back at it, lowered the pen and moved to grab her glasses, stare right back at it. And then it talked about a contract.

It was...a strange deal, from what little sense she could make of it. She asked for a copy rather hesitantly, flipped through page after page as it spoke, and all she really got from it was an awful headache that only got worse the longer she read. There was enough she understood that the creature didn’t explain itself: something about magical powers, and a secret identity, something about an animal counterpart--she thinks there was something about what she became, but the phantom pain in her temple wasn’t worth trying to find it again.

All in all, it was...promising. If nothing else, it sounded good for an escape; like daydreams but better. And she’d finished what she had to, so maybe it wouldn’t be all that bad?

Whoever proposed the idea of making her the leader of the little rag-tag group they’d formed was an idiot. She still stands by this, because the minute she found her teammates she forgot herself; forgot how to speak, fumbled over the words, slurred the ones she managed to say, and instead ended up staring dumbstruck at one of the many she came to love. Her name was Laverne; she was an actress, and her family was in the movie scene too, and she was beautiful, and Eulalie was everything but. 

Laverne didn’t laugh at her...too much, for this. But even what little she did didn’t seem mean-spirited, and she even adjusted her glasses for her, and she smiled, and-

Eulalie didn’t understand a thing, when this all started. Didn’t understand the absolute blessing that came with the freedom, didn’t understand why she was blessed with such wonderful teammates, didn’t understand her role or her powers or anything of it. And as much as she’d like to say she eventually did understand...she didn’t. And this didn’t bother her, much to her surprise.

She died, at some point, in what could’ve been a glorious battle--they all did, all contracted eventually do, it’s in the fine print. ( The fine print she never did find, because of that splitting headache. ) Herself, and Laverne, and the rest of her team. It doesn’t really matter who went when. It doesn’t really matter if they tried their hardest. The world forgot them, as they’re always bound to do, another one of those fun little clauses buried too deep in too many pages for anyone to be able to find.

There’s no such thing as a coincidence. The world forgot her, and she forgot all of it. Eternity’s a funny thing, when you lose your soul to the promise of magic, there’s nothing really left for you at all.

Memento: An axe, extravagantly decorated. It’s hard to tell what material it’s made of, though it looks as though it might be crystal? There are no chips or scratches to be seen on its surface, and vines are wrapped tightly around its hilt, leading up to blooms of baby’s breath. It’s surprisingly lightweight, given its size... 

Natural Abilities: A majority of her abilities, or what’s left of them, come contractually. These include, but are not limited to:

BIRD-LIKE FEATURES AND SENSES. When under immense strain, she may sprout a dove’s wings--she cannot will them to or from existence, and they’ll leave in a short time after she’s had the chance to calm down. Additionally, her eyesight upon signing the contract was cured, and she can see small things from a fair distance away. Generally, she’s faster, and able to move more swiftly. She’s also sensitive to sound, and would  have a higher chance to discern the location of someone or something.

COLD RESISTANCE. Runs warm. This is minor in comparison, but she’s less sensitive to lower temperatures than most. Wears less layers, or only one rather than two or three. Will still need said protection in extremely cold climates.

BASIC WATER MANIPULATION. Mostly in the form of bubbles, because she thought they were cute. In their present state, she can summon a small handful that doesn’t cause any harm even when they’re popped. It might make for a good distraction! She hasn’t tried anything in terms of actual water or water-like substances.  

This extended into healing, using bubbles, foam, or “pure” water to cleanse and heal a wound. At its most basic form, this would only extend to small surface wounds, and not anything more.

ADDENDUM: Eulalie will not be able to heal using her water! Luckily, the water she summons still retains its pure cleansing properties. The more she summons water, the more tired she will get.

Power History:  

TRANSFORMATION. Both physical and animal! With particularly intense emotions, she would transform into a small dove in a flurry of feathers. She’d still maintain her speaking abilities, but this effect could last anywhere from an hour to a day. Magically, outside of this, with her feather trinket she could transform into Chuu Rosetta, a dove-like heroine and leader of The Bird’s Chuus. 

ADVANCED WATER MANIPULATION. Included more dangerous physical attacks and more useful healing abilities, additionally, she could absorb attacks to make her own stronger, though this was often limited to a few times per battle. Her summoning abilities were stronger, and had more power behind them. 

VAPOR MAGIC. Primarily used as a distraction for the enemy, and exclusively came in the form of mist or fog. It has a teal tint to it, making it rather distinct. Inhaling it had no effect, but it would create a thick wall of fog making it difficult to see or move. 

Extra: 

She’s a theatre major, wants to pursue screenwriting. 

As an extension of this, she has a lot of WIP’d scripts!

Very picky about the movies she likes, her favorite genres are musicals, drama, and thrillers.

She critiques them almost as much as she takes notes on them, she’ll carry around a small notepad for this.

Doesn’t like romcoms or romance movies all that much.

Has an embarrassingly large stash of perfumes and lotions from Bath & Body Works, though she only uses a few religiously.

Has a hard time saying no to anyone.

Wanted a pet, but never had one. She would’ve chosen a bird or a hamster, and has a list of names for both of them.

Really liked doing solo patrols as Rosetta. She thought it was relaxing and really freeing; taking care of covets as they formed was a breeze.

Big stressy.

PINTEREST BOARD: HERE.

❖ Nelrunari Section ❖

Ward: Polaris

Player Tag: Here

❖ OOC Section ❖

Name/Alias: Pascal (or) Orion !

Contact: @orirising (main twitter) @plaglacier (rp talk twitter)

Age:  20

Pronouns: he/they

[sueboohscorner]

#Supergirl Ep. 221 Recap & Review "Resist"

Episode grade: 9

Lena Luthor awakens in a luxurious bed, totally gothed out. I realize fashion is pretty low on her list right now, but I still imagine she would rather not be seen like this in public. Rhea must have always wanted a daughter to dress up like a doll.

Lena's appropriately pissed at being abducted, and Rhea's reaction is that peculiar variety of sociopathic that can also be described as "mother knows best." Rhea's whole way of dealing with the world comes across as a weary frustration that people don't always immediately do what she says, that's she occasionally required to apply pressure to make them fall in line. (This parenting style is familiar to Lena, of course, because Lillian Luthor is a nightmare.)

Even Lillian, however, looks like a good mom now that you've got Rhea for comparison...Rhea plans to force Lena and Mon-El into a marriage that will symbolically unite Daxam and Earth. I bet Mon-El regrets being too heroic to shoot her last week!

Rhea's message of "Welcome to New Daxam; I will be your queen" is being projected all over National City, and her Daxamite army is raining down terror and destruction to bring the people to heel. Our heroes are mostly out there fighting back, except J'onn, who remains in a coma after last week's fight. 

The DEO HQ has fallen to the Daxamite army, so our team has set up shop in the alien bar with whatever equipment they could get their hands on. They're all there trying to decide on a plan when Lillian waltzes in. She offers a limited alliance to fight their common enemy, but our friends aren't that desperate...yet.

Guardian and Maggie feel it's their duty to get back out on the street and protect people. For some reason, Supergirl doesn't leave the bar. That is one of the strange aspects of this episode. I get it, narratively, because she needs to be there for specific moments...but still, it's weird that the city is under siege, and its primary hero is hanging out in the bar, looking at computer monitors.

Winn picks up a signal being transmitted between the Daxamite mothership and...Air Force One, zooming right this way! He hacks into this communication (...but two weeks ago, he couldn't trace a signal relay set up by some guy Alex and Kara grew up with? Sorry, I'll try to never mention that crappy episode again), and our team gets to be a fly on the wall for the first contact between President Olivia Marsden, Queen Rhea, and Cat Grant!

Cat is her usual awesome self, trying to play the girl power aspect of this situation. Of course, she's a person with a soul, so she can't comprehend a sociopath like Rhea. There's no negotiating with this bitch. Rhea starts shooting down the presidential escort jets, then Air Force One.

Supergirl gets there just in time to catch Cat Grant, but the plane goes down. This isn't a fatal event for Madame President, though, because she's a Durlan! (We've known since her first appearance that she was an alien, but now we get a confirmation on her species; Durla is the homeworld of a race with shape-shifting abilities. Their most famous citizen is Chameleon, of the Legion of Super-Heroes.)

Back at the bar, the president instructs our team to retake the DEO facility and gain control of the positron cannon, then immediately use it to destroy the mothership. Supergirl and Alex beg her to reconsider, as Mon-El and Lena are hostages on that ship, but the president stands firm that defeating this invasion force is more important than saving any individual lives. (Fair point, and I can't help but note Supergirl's failure to shed tears for the pilot or crew of Air Force One. Not that I think she should beat herself up about their deaths, but she saved Cat and then expressed horror at the thought that she'd failed to save the president...no concern about the others?)

Supergirl's deeply conflicted about carrying out these orders, and Cat gives her the pep talk she needs to make a hard decision; she goes to find Lillian (and Hank Henshaw/Cyborg-Superman!) and agrees to their short-term alliance.

For their part in the adapted plan, Alex and Maggie are carrying out the president's orders (desperately hoping Supergirl's mission succeeds before theirs!), and Winn is helping Cat commandeer the airwaves to send a message of hope and rebellion to the citizens of National City. She gives a beautiful speech to inspire the city to resist Rhea, this thug "who claims she will make our world great again."

When Daxamite soldiers show up at Catco to stop Cat's transmission, Guardian saves the day! He uses lead dust to trigger the Daxamites' "space asthma," which is an awesome use of their one known weakness. 

Cat looks right at Guardian and says, "Thanks, James." He and Winn stammer, but she just points out that his eyes are visible through the slit in his mask. (And unlike with Kara, no shape-shifter is on hand to prove her suspicion wrong!)

Lillian's plan involves the Phantom Zone projector in the Fortress of Solitude. They will hack its frequency to get it to beam them behind the shields around the mothership, so they can rescue Lena and Mon-El. Kara asks why Lillian hasn't outed her to Lena, since Lillian knows her secret identity. She sneers that she's waiting for Lena to figure it out, because then she'll see that Kara has been lying to her, proving that aliens can't be trusted, after which Lena will finally become a full Luthor.

Now, I just have to say one thing: I call BS on Lena still not figuring out Kara is Supergirl. I will accept that she can interact with Kara and Supergirl closely without knowing they're the same person, because I'm a comic book fan, and we accept that sort of thing as part of the deal. But now, Lena has met Mon-El both as Kara's boyfriend AND as the superhero who showed up with Supergirl to fight Lena's alien mentor, Rhea, who turned out to be Mon-El's mom, who talks a lot about her son dating the wrong girl and who has a beef with Supergirl...there is no excuse for her not putting two and two together at this point.

In fact, here's the rescue team: Supergirl barely restrains herself from kissing Mon-El, then says that Kara Danvers sent her. If Lena comes out of this without a full awareness of this secret identity, they better have a major explanation...or maybe they'll just have J'onn mindwipe her, so when she figures it all out the second time she can feel even more betrayed.

Lillian tries to screw Supergirl over, of course, leaving her and Mon-El behind on the ship. Winn had rigged a backup plan, because Lillian can't be trusted, but Kara sends Mon-El to safety alone! She says she wants to offer Rhea a peaceful surrender. I hate this. I get that it's meant to be the heroic choice, but it's so naive, and dude, you know that if you're not out of there soon, your sister will wind up shooting you out of the sky! Right now, I feel like Kara's greater allegiance should have been to Alex; she should have gotten off the ship to prevent her sister from having to make an awful decision that would haunt her for the rest of her life. 

(If you read my recaps of The Originals, you know I'm always bitching about how dishonorable the Mikaelsons are, so believe me, I recognize there's irony in my bitching about how honorable Supergirl is being. I like a happy medium, I guess, where you stand by your word and respect your allies, but you accept that sometimes the bad guy has to die, and you don't risk your life to offer redemption to someone who has shown no interest in it.)

Down on the ground, Alex has her finger on the positron cannon trigger, and the president is ordering her to proceed, but she knows Kara is still on the ship. She hesitates just long enough that we should probably assume she's going to be fired, especially because her hesitation gives the Daxamites time to destroy the cannon. Oops.

Up on the ship, Rhea laughs at Kara's offer to surrender, then introduces another secret weapon...she's got Superman under her control! 

This week had a couple of minor flaws, but the return of Cat Grant makes everything better. I love this character, and I could watch Calista Flockhart's gracefully formidable performance all day.

What was your favorite Cat moment?

Next week, Supergirl vs. Superman!

[thehauntrpg-blog]

Name: Sophie Uris Age Range: 24 Gender: Female Pronouns: She/Her Occupation: Unemployed Status: TAKEN by leah

Sallybrook is the only home you’ve ever known. Most have gone outside of it, at least to Boston, but you haven’t. There’s an anxiety that builds in your chest at the thought of leaving, even if you’re not sure why. Maybe it’s the fear that no one else will accept you outside of Sallybrook, or the culture would be too different, or you’ll fall in love with it and have to go back. You’ve never been particularly good at anything, hopping from job to job to try to find something that suits you. Your friends always told you you had no direction, no vision, but you just see yourself as having too much you want to do. Maybe one day, you’ll find your niche, but for now, you’re left hopping around town, looking for yourself, ignoring the darkness around you.

Logan: You find comfort in their energy. You grew up next to them, and have always seen them as an older brother figure. You can’t help but feel like they’ve grown tired of you, though, as they have a tendency to get cold rather quickly into a conversation. You tiptoe around them, hoping to impress them.

Elodie: You worked at the diner together at one of your jobs, and they quickly took you under their wing. You like how excited they are about their future, and hope that some of their ambition will rub off on you.

faceclaim: Saoirse Ronan

tw: Kidnapping, Death, Self Harm

Sophia Uris and her family were a rarity around Sallybrook. In a town so middle class as Sallybrook - they were fortunate enough to have a pretty large estate to themselves.  An upper class lifestyle built from Sophia’s parents numerous best-selling children books. Stories about their large family in Massachusetts forever animated in time.

Sophia was the youngest of five daughters. And if you asked her - she was the runt of the family. Everyone even more  talented than the next. Each of her sisters were skilled in some way or another. Whether it was; science, math, music. All of them were always on a clear path to success. All but Sophia.

At least that’s what the town had thought. But secretly, since Sophie was a little girl, she had been practicing drawing. She would sit on the floor, watching her dad sketch in utter awe. Always looking up to him and the way art just came to him with such ease. She would doodle away in her notebooks, take nearly empty paint tins and try her hand in the famous cute, fluffy art style of her dad in the dead of the night. But it was always for her. She never let anyone see her pieces. She knew she would be compared to her dad. She knew there was no way she could stack up to his genius. Or anyone else in her family for that matter.

The shift from the pretty normal fun-loving life Sophie led to the future of dark times ahead - all started when Sophie was nine. She - at this point - was the neighborhood hide and seek champ. All the kids of Sallybrook would attempt to dethrone her, but they didn’t stand a chance. On this particular day, her and a boy from down the street went into the woods behind her house. Despite the fog filling the already small gaps between the brush, Sophie was fully confident she’d be able to find this kid in no time. Making it back for pizza rolls and Disney channel before nightfall.

She approached a tree, covering her eyes and beginning to count out loud. She kept a listen to the crushing of the leaves. The cracks of the branches getting farther and farther away. By the time she reached fifteen the noises stopped outright. Nothing but the sound of the cold air whipping between the trees was left. It was almost too easy. She called out that she was done and skipped her way to the obvious spot the kid was hiding. But when she got there, there was nothing. She turned around the tree, scanning the areas quick enough not to lose her record. But time was going by quick. Too quick, and there wasn’t even a hint to where he was or had been.

She began to worry. She knew she wasn’t supposed to play out so far from the house, but she wanted a challenge this time. And now she was going to pay the price. She trudged back in circles, scanning each inch of the forrest, sap from the branches covering her overalls, and still nothing. Nothing but the thick of the fog and the dead leaves around. She soon forgot about her hide and seek reputation and became more worried about the fact this kid was nowhere to be found. Her legs began to move more franticly. Her head darting back and forth in front and behind her as she ran back to the house in the far distance. She screamed the boy’s name over and over. Telling him she wasn’t playing anymore, and he should stop messing with her. But she knew that wasn’t worth it. Knew he was long gone by now. She ran back into the house, frenzied, tears welling up in her eyes. It took twenty minutes for her to calm down enough to actually tell her parents what went down. But there was no point. They knew fair well what happened to the little boy.

Sophie spent the next few years terrified of that event. Not of the monsters that snuck around in the night. Or of the myriad of missing posters she would begin to actually realize went up each year. But afraid of the fact that she wasn’t the one taken. Why was she, of all the kids in Sallybrook, immune to the haunt. This followed her into her teen years. Even as that afternoon’s memory began to fade and blend in with the nightmares her own mind made up about that day. She would still loom back and think why was she spared ?? Why was she the one to survive ?

She always compared herself to the people around her. Always doubted her potential in comparison to her great and successful family. Even the haunt didn’t think she was worth it. So she began to believe it. Take that worthless feeling with her everywhere.

She turned fifteen and started working part time jobs. Not because her household was in any lack of money, but to instill some sort of personal responsibility. All her sisters worked while they went to school. Had no problems at all. But not Sophie. In her first year alone, she had four jobs. Either getting fired or quitting when the tasks became a little too hard to handle. Just another thing she was terrible at. From bagging groceries to printing copies in an office, it honestly felt she wasn’t able to do any of it.

This didn’t help the looming depression that had been festering in her since she was a little girl. The looks her parents gave her when she would come home with her stuff in her hands, tears stained on her cheeks, broke her spirit every single time. She was useless. Stuck to live in her parent’s shadow.

So when she was sixteen, and had just lost job number seven, she fell the her lowest place. Her own personal rock bottom. She wasn’t doing exceptionally well in any of her subjects, couldn’t hold a job, and she was stuck in this dead end haunted town. Typically, she would take her inner frustrations out on her art. Drawing dark figures, monsters that festered in her mind. But on this particular day it just wasn’t enough. She watched the liquid fall from her eyes on to the paper, looking over the piece and noting how horrible it was. A reminder of how untalented she was. She shredded the paper, crumbling it up and tossing it across the room. She wasn’t sure what possessed her to do this exactly. It all was a blur. But she saw a scissor amongst all the scattered, old art supplies she had taken from her parents studio hidden under her bed. Grabbed it, opened the blades and dragged it across her leg, right above her knee. She didn’t even feel the pain sting it’s way through her nervous system. Instead, she watched in awe as the red line formed, drops falling back towards her and dripping its way down her porcelain skin. For once in a very, very long time - she was calm. Happy even. It was a miracle.

Sophie knew right away that this little act would become a lifelong problem. The bliss was just too good. The anxiety, the shake in her hands was virtually gone. When she cut she forgot all about her shortcomings. All about the past, and the fact she witnessed a haunt right before eyes. She felt nothing. And she truly needed that.

This just became another secret she hid from her family. Along with her plenty of sketches and artworks stowed away under her bed. When the art relief wasn’t enough. She would hide out in her room and harm herself. It was an addiction. Some instances - nothing triggered the pain. She would just get the urge to destroy her precious skin. And before she could talk herself out of cutting for no reason, she was already digging a razor into her ribcage, watching the relief slowly leave her.

There were plenty of times when the nightmares, the darkness would get to her. She would wake up hysterical. Quickly throwing all she owned in her suitcase and booking it to the border of Sallybrook. This town was a waste, just like her. Maybe, just maybe if she made it out. Made it to Boston, or even New York, she could find her passion and be the success everyone wanted her to be.

But it’s always the same. She makes it to the town limits and like clockwork it happens. She can feel her chest constrict. Her heart race in her chest. The clear vision of a future in front of her was too much. She began to play all the outcomes in her head. Imagining herself fail over and over and how dreadful it would be to have to come home again. She knew it was a long shot. Knew there was no chance she could succeed in the real world. Not when she had no discernible skills to show for it. And just like that, she was turning back into the fog, going back to her place in the town that seemed to hold her hostage. She feared she would never be able to leave. Never be good enough to leave.

Now, she’s twenty four, living in a rented house with a slew of roommates also trapped in Sallybrook, just trying to get by. She’ll get a job - work for a little - and then be kicked to the curb once again. Her longest record was a year long stent working as a waitress at the diner. And the only reason she made it so far, was because Elodie looked out for her. She hates relying on handouts from her folks. But she can’t help it. She’ll always be the deadbeat daughter needing yet another loan.