#speech day five

[moonriase]

Losing a kid is hard on everybody.

[invye]

everyone be like "happy easter!" and i have to fight so hard to wrestle down the intrusive thoughts that want me to make a resurrection joke in bad taste.

they are just polite.

they don't know.

[dragonfollies]

Work in progress (?) of a short Fionna animation.

[glamrockmike]

i have an idea/draft for a genuinely sweet post about being an autistic fnaf fan but right now i’m telling you it’s not all shits and rainbows, for instance, my number one vocal stim is the fucking ‘golden freddy! i hope nothing bad happens to you!’ video and lemme just say the darkest pits of hell are opening wide to swallow me whole wit this one chat

[tenma-tsukasa-official]

Unfortunately, no dad jokes last night.

But I convinced another fairy that I’m crazy, so :D (if you’re wondering, over the course of rehearsal (where I wasn’t backstage/onstage at least an hour and 50 minutes) I read this long book, and I got to page 200 by the end of rehearsal)

Reading that fast isn't normal?

[strangeauthor]

so uh...that dog i mentioned this morning that animal control got? well theres a high possibility that it was someone's lost pet

because in uber i drove past a lost dog poster...and it looked exactly like the dog that came at my job

hopefully he's chipped and he gets reunited cause im now feeling like

[manawari]

TODAY'S MOOD

and that's probably me for this coming weekends and weekdays—

[loverscrossmp3]

it is true what they say that online courses are what will cause society to eventually collapse

[monster-noises]

I am starting to realize a big part of the issues i have hitting it off with folks, especially in the context of meeting people through dating apps but also in general, is like... A mismatch of energy?

Not like.. people only responding with one or two word answers (though I have had this with folks, and it's Annoying but it's its own thing) but as in like..

We are both interested in the same topics in similar ways and should by all accounts get along swimmglingly but my baseline conversational energy is like Up Here and theirs is like down here if that makes even a Lick of sense?

And it's not a bad thing, I'm not trying to Rag on anyone i've ever talked to.. As a whole they've been pretty cool! But things always seem to wither out and disappear so quickly... even when the conversations been Sound, Pleseant, and usually pretty general. it's not being Bad At Conversation... I am just Very Enthusiastic All The Time Always, and most other folks Aren't,,,, apparently.

This could entirely be an issue with my Perception. Like i'll fully accept i'm prone to interacting with strangers starting from a space of 'doesn't care for me' instead of 'neutral' or even, dare i say it; 'interested' but I think the contrasting experience of people I Have hit off with, few as they are, where the strongest factors in those conversations is a shared level of enthusiasm makes me believe that it's Not Just A Self Perception Issue (though yeah yeah I shoud also work on that probably hush up i know)

Dunno what to do with this thought really, not much to be done about it, it's just a compatability thing I guess.. lotta people out there i could make good, reasonably, close acquaintances/friends with if we hadn't met under the pretext of realtionship-seeking, very few I vibe with on the level I am hoping for in a partner...

[calandrinon]

All you Gilgidu shippers are completely valid but I for one have my fingers crossed for better Siduri representation

Big day for the EoG fandom

[iamnotlookingidonotseeit]

somehow as a person obsessed with words I have not ended up in a job that requires me to do anything I like doing with them. love words. would love to write not inspid ones again someday

[oysterie]

i love how easy it is to make up stuff for homework

[youareinlove]

rap drama summation:

drake and kendrick met in 2011 after kendrick's first album release

drake became friends with kendrick bc he was like "this guy has potential" and had kendrick be one of his openers on tour

kendrick had drake on his next album that won aoty

kendrick was featured on the song "control" where he names a bunch of artists and is like "i'm coming for your job" and one of them was drake, who was also the only one pressed about it

PRESENT DAY:

j cole featured on drake's song "first person shooter" where he says that himself, drake, and kendrick are the "big 3" of rap

kendrick features on future's album on the song "like that" where he says that there is no big three and it's just him (basically that he's better than both of them)

drake drops two diss tracks ("push-ups" which is just a general diss, and "taylor made freestyle" where he disses kendrick for featuring on bad blood and delaying his response to the first diss track because of taylor's album release. while also talking about how much he loves and respects her because he's non-commital like that)

kendrick drops his response, and it's a 6-minute diss that calls drake out for EVERYTHING. like using AI to write, mistreating women, being sexist, being canadian (💀), and a bunch of other stuff like he eats him up

kendrick drops a second response called 6:16 in LA

drake drops a response that i hadn't heard of when first making this post so it probably wasn't very good

he drops a third response yesterday, called "meet the grahams" where he addresses it to different members of drake's family (including his son) dissing him for being a bad father, bad son, and bad example (eats him up again) (this dropped an hour after drake's which means he probably had insider information and is playing 4D chess)

we now await drake's response

kendrick dropped ANOTHER diss track called "not like US"

drake dropped a response called "the heart part 6" that was not only bad but completely disproportionate to how bad he got cooked (this diss was not it)

"not like us" won four five grammys at the 2025 grammy awards: best rap performance, best rap song, best music video, and record of the year, and song of the year, with drake getting a shoutout in kendrick's roty acceptance speech

[slapmeshigaraki]

⭒˚‧ ⭒ཐིཋྀ "Only nice girls get treats." ཐིཋྀ⭒ ‧˚⭒

♡ warnings: caleb x fem!reader, (18+ mdni), reader is insecure, fingering, dirty talk, pussy eating, begging, crying, dumbification, heavy praise, denial, spit, finger sucking, hair pulling, pussy slapping, mirror

♡ a/n: little treat for the middle of the week. been working on this one for a while so it got a little long,, so sorry. finished this instead of writing my research paper,, butttttt i love writing for caleb so i hope u enjoy xx

You're taking a lot longer than usual to get ready. Nothing seems to be fitting right, every outfit looking worse than the last. Maybe you should just stay home tonight, or maybe, you Caleb needs to remind you just how beautiful his girl is.

“Hey, did you need me to iron something for you? I was gonna’ do my shirt, so—” You listened, turning towards the bathroom door as the honeyed voice came to a halt. There he was, leaning against the wooden door frame, muscled torso on full display, dog tag draped around his neck and glistening in the dim lighting, a white collared dress shirt draped over his shoulder. His pants were held up by a fine leather belt that hung loosely around his hips, the buckle undone. The smell of his cologne wrapped around you, notes of cedarwood and lavender softly calming your otherwise hectic state. The bathroom was a mess, makeup brushes strewn about on the marble countertop, clothes and bras and panties thrown in the corner, heels that didn't match were all over the floor, making for a minefield of a space that you'd been moving around for the last two hours.

“No, I’m good. Thanks.” His brow furrowed at the abnormally dry response, violet eyes studying you as you frantically hurried around the small space, makeup and hair both half done. The dress that he’d seen you in only five minutes earlier was balled up near a pile of purses on the tiled floor now, your skin only covered by a matching black lace set. He was almost drooling at the sight, opting to bite his full bottom lip to keep himself from doing so.

“Everything okay, baby?” His tone was cautious, testing the temperature of the water. You didn’t bother to meet his gaze, too busy wracking your brain to put together a different outfit—or maybe you needed to change your hair? Should you even bother going at all? Maybe you should suddenly pretend to have a stomachache.

“I’m fine, just rushed.” Another short answer.

“There’s no rush, sugar. They can’t start without us after all.” You gave him a soft laugh, brushing off the comment, but he was right. This night was about him after all—a ceremony awarding him for his accomplishments with the fleet this past year. He’d been going over his speech with you tirelessly every day for the last week, picking apart every line one by one until it was perfect. This was Caleb’s night, so why were you the one feeling so much pressure?

“Hey, look at me for a second.” You did, eyes meeting his in the mirror as you ran another coat of red lipstick over your bottom lip, suddenly questioning the color.

“You can tell me if something's wrong ya’ know. We don’t have to go.” You shook your head in dismissal, breaking the eye contact that was quickly making something well up in your chest, tears stinging in the corner of your eyes against your will.

“Of course we have to go, Caleb. I’m going—I want to go, I’m just trying to hurry up.”

“What was wrong with the last dress? Or the four before that?” He wasn’t teasing but genuinely asking you as he searched for your attention in the mirror again, to no avail. A single tear fell from your eye, effortlessly ruining your makeup, a line of foundation erased as you tried not to let anymore escape.

“They just weren’t right. Nothing is fitting right for some reason.” He wasted no time moving over to you, shirt falling to the floor in the process, but he didn’t care. His eyes were locked on you, noticing the way your face slowly crumpled, head hanging as if there was a thousand-pound weight holding you down.

“Don’t cry, baby. Hey, hey, shh…” His arms wrapped around you, toned chest pressing into your back, the warmth of his skin inescapable as he held you as tightly as he could. Your body gently shook against him as you let the tears fall freely now, the thought of ruining Caleb’s night making your heart even heavier.

“You could wear a burlap sack and you’d still be the most beautiful thing in any room, you know that, right? Why are you being so mean to my pretty girl, hm?” His soft palm snaked it’s way across your chest and neck, cupping your wet cheek, sticking your skin to his. He gently guiding your chin up, your reflection staring back at his now.

“Tell me what you didn’t like about the pink dress.” You subconsciously shrunk against him at the question, the visual of your bare skin against him, only covered by the thin pieces of fabric sending shivers down your spine. The little hairs on the back of your neck stood up, ears growing hot—you were so vulnerable like this.

“Be honest with me this time. Please,” he said, voice thick and syrupy like molasses, almost like he was begging as he craned his head down, resting his chin in the crook of your neck and pressing a feather-light kiss to your face.

“My- my shoulders…they looked too wide in it.” His eyes grew big at the confession before they shifted down in the mirror, locking onto your shoulders. He left another kiss on your cheek, then your jaw, next your neck, trailing them across your collar bone before his full lips finally lingered against the back of your shoulder. Your head slowly fell again, before you heard his voice,

“Don’t look away, sugar.”  You watched his slender fingers graze across your skin, faintly dancing over your shoulder blades along with his lips which were still peppering kissing over your frame. Your breath hitched at the sight of his body against yours, his tall and muscular physique towering over you, making you look so fragile in his grasp.

“What was wrong with the red outfit, hm? I think I liked that one the best.” Your eyes rolled at the question which Caleb caught in the mirror. You hated the way you looked in the red dress. The outfit accentuating every curve, the short length hugging your thighs just a little too tightly. You felt so… naked in that dress—every flaw you’d seen in the mirror on full display in that gown.

“My body just doesn’t look good in it.”

“Your body looks amazing in anything. If I didn’t think I’d want to break the bones of any man that looked, I’d suggest you go just like this.” His eyes were not the same when they met yours this time. They were dark, pupils enlarged, darkening his irises. He looked hungry at the sight of you, like a vampire that hadn’t fed in weeks. His lips watered at the thought of devouring you, getting to see sweat glistening on your bare chest, nipples hardened under his rough fingertips, back arched as he pressed himself into you. The thing he loved the most though was your faces, your bottom lip almost bleeding from how hard your teeth grinded against it as you tried to silence your moans, tears welling up at the corners of your eyes that were desperate to escape once he hit just the right spot inside of your soft walls. Your face and body were the things he dreamed about in his sleep, but they were also what would keep him up at night while you were away. They were the things that made him fist his cock, eyes shut tight as he pictured the artwork known as his girl. He was ravenous for you—always, so why couldn’t you see what he did? Why didn’t the lamb understand what made the lion so hungry for it; what made him hunt day and night just for a taste.

You couldn’t help but notice the way his clothed cock hardened against you. He didn’t grind into you like you wanted, his focus instead on getting his fingers on every inch of you. Your gaze fell again, embarrassment heating your cheeks at the sight of his digits languidly sliding underneath the cups of your bra.

“I won’t tell you again. Look up.” You did. You core grew wetter, dampening the fabric of your panties at the contact.

“You know…” His free hand ghosted over your spine, causing you to shiver at his touch as he unclasped your bra, freeing your flesh. A small moan escaped his lips at the reveal, his fingers quickly found your breasts, large hands cupping them, much to his enjoyment.

“I’d kill anyone who talked bad about you. I would never let anyone speak about my girl the way that you do.” A harsh pinch to your nipple forced your chest to push out towards the mirror, your perfect French manicure gripping the edge of the marble countertop. The sight was absolutely sinful.

“So why do you think that you should be the exception, huh? Do you think you’re above the rules?” Caleb rolled your sensitive nipples between his fingers, reveling in the way you writhed beneath his touch.

“No…” You whined, head slowly falling forward at the sensation, you body going limp against his.

“No? Apologize then.” His voice was harsh suddenly, as you felt your muscles give way, gaze being forced back to the mirror against your will as he used his evol against you. He did say he wouldn’t ask again, instead, he would make you look.

“I-I’m sorry,” It was barely audible, strained out between your soft moans as you pushed your ass against the man behind you, unabashedly wanted to feel some sort of friction between your thighs.

“No no no, not to me. Apologize to my baby, hm?  Look at her and say you’re sorry for being mean.” You tried to turn your head away at the humiliating request, but it was no use, you were practically immobilized between his arms. You looked at yourself in the mirror, body laid bare, chest heaving, ass grinding against Caleb like a bitch in heat.

“I’m sorry for being mean.”

“Aww how nice. See I knew you could be sweet. You always listen so well, my obedient pretty girl.” His right hand left your chest feeling cold as his middle and index fingers found themselves pressed against your lips.

“Get 'em wet for me, baby. Go ahead, it’s okay.” So you listen—you let your lips part, sucking his fingers between them, running your tongue in circles around his knuckles as he slides them in and out of your mouth. “Fuck… you look so good.”

“You want my fingers somewhere else? Been grinding this pussy against me like you need something. Do you want me to make you feel good, hm? Will that make my pretty girl stop crying?” He was mocking you, reveling in the way you squirmed against him as he pressed your hips into the counter.

“Caleb… please,” You said, words muffled by his thick fingers pushing down against your tongue, your saliva dripping halfway down his arm at this point.

“But you’re so mean, baby. Only nice girls get treats. Are you gonna be nice from now on? Gonna' treat my pretty girl better?” He watched as your reflection nodded up and down, pretty little eyes closed tightly, nose scrunched up like a bunny. He was in awe at this sight—he almost wanted to give you your reward without making you work for it...almost.

“Answer me, baby. C’mon, be good for me… please,” His words were strained, like he was getting off just as much as you were without him even being touched. It made your knees buckle a little beneath you, forcing your limp fingers to grip around his forearm, desperately searching for some stability.

“Yes yes I’ll be nice. I promise. Just touch me please.” With that, he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, your spit glistening around his digits as they traveled slowly down your body, leaving you painted in your own wetness.

“You have the most beautiful body I’ve ever seen, you know that?” He pressed a soft kiss to your neck as his wet fingers slid beneath the waistband of your panties.

“Fuck this pussy’s so wet already. I can feel your little clit’s already excited, she’s so swollen. Aw, does it hurt, baby?” His muscled thigh forced its way between your legs, spreading them wider as his fingers lightly toyed with your most sensitive spot, soaked fingers rubbing on each side of your clit. Your hole clenched around nothing, juices spilling out against the fabric, desperately wanting to be filled—hungry.

“Look so pretty when you don’t get what you want though. Maybe this is all you should get, huh? After all, mean girls shouldn’t be rewarded, should they?” You squirmed even more at his words, trying to force his fingers to move faster or press against you harder—something. Caleb was having none of it though, his big hand gripping your waist, pinning you still. Whines fell from between your lips at the denial.

“Didn’t you just say you would be good? Were you lying to me again or does this messy hole between your legs make it so you can’t think straight? Don’t tell me my fingers barely touching you makes you this dumb, sugar. That’s cute… but a little pathetic, don’t you think?” He sloppily kissed your skin between words, teeth nipping against the flesh, tongue lapping at your wounds only to bite into you again.

“I guess you can’t think. Is that it? You need me to tell you what to do, hm?” You nodded uncontrollably, that heavy weight moving your muscles against your will once again.

“My pretty girl with the sloppy cunt. Say it.” His thumb found your clit now, hovering over it, just barely touching the aching button… but it wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t be enough until you did what he told you to.

“Caleb please…”

“No more whining. If you’re not saying what I told you to then you shouldn’t be speaking at all. Say you’re my pretty girl.” He freed your waist, certain that you wouldn’t disobey when he had you like this—so pliable. His hand made it’s way to your half-undone hair now, gripping it, as he pushed your face closer to the mirror, your body bent over the sink, reflection painfully close.

You said it… but not the way he wanted you to. Your eyes were on him, words barely audible, attitude palpable through the statement. Without warning the warmth of his fingers on your cunt was quickly gone as he slipped his fingers out of your panties to deliver a swift slap to your clit over the fabric. You screamed out at the painful sensation, which only resulted in another smack against your cunt.

“Do it the right way. Look at my girl while you tell her she’s pretty and mean it.”  You looked at your reflection, chest bare, sweat staining your skin, hair messy from the way Caleb’s fingers gripped it forcing you not to look away. Your eyes were glazed over, lipstick smudged onto your chin—you were a mess, but you said it.

“I- I’m your pretty girl.” Not even a second passed after the words left your lips before Caleb slid the crotch of your panties to the side, fingers pressing all the way against you now. His middle finger, still wet from the impromptu blowjob you’d given it, made it’s way into your tight hole inch by inch.

“See what happens when you’re not a fucking brat? Don’t you know that only good girls get what they want?” You nodded, your head feeling fuzzy as his thick finger forced itself between your walls, its length allowing him to brush against your g-spot with hardly any effort.

“Say it again.” You did, looking yourself in the eyes once more.

“That’s right. You’re my pretty girl who listens so well. My god you are fucking prefect.” You were rewarded with another finger amongst the praise, but he hadn’t touched your clit again. He knew that the second he did, you would fall apart in his arms. He just wasn’t quite done playing with you yet.

“Aw my baby gets so fucking dumb when her holes get filled. How cute… you having trouble with your words again? What is it, sugar? Come on, tell me, you can do it.” His lips were so close to your ear as he spoke, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. His tone was sweet, slightly higher in pitch, as if he were calling out for a stray dog to come eat a treat out of his palm. The condescending sound made you whine out once again, just like a puppy would.

“Aww am I not giving you what you want? Am I being mean to you?” His fingers quickened as he watched you pant, your palms flattened out against the mirror as he rocked you back and forth against his hand.

“Caleb please touch me.”

“I’m already touching you silly girl? What is it, did you want a kiss?” The thought of getting to feel his lips on yours as his fingers fucked harder into you, his tongue lapping at yours, brought more tears to your eyes.

“Yes. Please ‘wanna kiss so bad.” He pushed your head closer to your reflection, until your lips were only a millimeter from the mirror,

“Go on then. Give her a kiss—such a pretty girl deserves a kiss.” His cock ached in his pants against you as he watched it—the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen so desperate for his fingers that she was kissing herself in the mirror just because he’d said so.

“Goood girl. Good job being so sweet. Tell her you’re sorry again for hurting her feelings.” His thumb finally nudged against your clit again, slowly rubbing small little circles around it. The stimulation made you cry once more as he found just the right rhythm to keep you on the edge as apologies flowed from your lips.

“You must be getting close, beautiful. This little pussy is grippin’ on my fingers so tight. She doesn’t wanna let me go. Do you need to cum, baby?”

“Yes yes wanna cum so bad for you.”

“Aw I know I know. It’s okay. I’ll stop being mean to you since you’ve been so sweet. Tell me where you wanna cum, sugar.” The question only made you squeeze him tighter, your sloppy hole clenching and spasming around his fingers and you pressed your lips to the mirror once more, leaving little red kiss marks all over the reflection of your face. Your hips free now, you pushed into his cock again, grinding against the fabric of his pants, leaving an even bigger wet spot than before.

“No no no, you can’t have my cock. This is about you, just wanna make you feel good, yeah?” You whined louder at the denial, your voice trembling as you shook from your sobs.

“Don’t cry anymore, baby. I’ll do you one better yeah?” He pulled his fingers out of you slowly, despite the fight your hole tried to put up in keeping him inside. His hand’s grip on your hair was gone, but not before he used it to force you to turn towards him for the first time. He lowered himself to his knees, rough hands gently grabbing your thigh as he placed it over his shoulder.

“You are a fucking goddess,” he whispered as he brought his mouth between your legs, placing tiny kisses on the inside of your thighs. “Shouldn’t I pay my respects?” He wasted no more time getting his tongue on your cunt, pushing your lips apart as he savored your juices in his mouth. Your fingers tangled into his hair now, pushing your hips into his face as he gripped your thigh even tighter making you moan out at the mix of pain and pleasure. You were already so close, the feeling of Caleb suckling on your puffy clit, the rhythm just how he knew you liked it, made you beg to cum once more in no time.

“So fucking gorgeous, grinding on my tongue. Go on, say it one more time for me. Say you’re my pretty girl. Say you’ll never be mean to yourself again and I’ll let you cum for me.” He looked up at you as the words spilled out of your mouth just like he said, the look on your face intoxicating as you screamed out his name.

“Gooood girl you can cum for me. C'mon pretty girl, cum in my mouth, it’s okay. You earned it.” He held you still, tongue continuing to harass your poor little clit as you writhed above him. Your legs gave out, quivering as he continued to lick up the mess you’d made.

“Don’t worry, baby. I got you. Keep cumming for me, let it all out,” he said, voice sweet once again as he steadied you with his hands and you rode out the rest of your orgasm.

“You did so good. I’m so proud of you.” He pressed one more kiss to your clit, as you finished coming down, your body finally feeling steady in his arms. He stood up, towering over you once again, face wet with your juices as he held your fingers between his. His other hand cupped your face, thumb softly wiping away your tears.

“I love you more than anything and I want you to know that you have nothing to be insecure about. Even if you’re not feeling your best, you can always talk to me and I’ll remind you of just how beautiful you are. Okay?” You nodded, looking up at him with big eyes, your heart hurting in your chest from how full it felt in that moment.

“I love you, Caleb.”

“I can tell because you let me ruin your makeup when we only have…” He glanced over at my phone on the countertop, “thirty minutes before the car gets here.”

“Thirty minutes?” You shouted out, pushing against Caleb’s chest.

“You’ll be fine. I’ll make them wait,” he said, reaching down to pick up the white dress shirt that had been previously discarded onto the floor. 

“And hey, put on that red dress. I’ll need something pretty to look at while everyone else is droning on about how great I am.” You rolled your eyes, letting out a laugh that perfectly harmonized with his as you threw the balled up dress towards him.

“Now you’ll have to iron them both.” He hummed in acceptance, violet irises glimmering at the sight of you.

“Anything for you, gorgeous.”

[smiletimeisrunningout]

"No, darling, I love to see others in relationship," she corrected him softly, because truly there was little she found more adorable than to see two people act the way her parents did. "But going fast, as fast as Mary? That's what terrifies me. My parents were impossibly lucky in that, but their first weeks together involved fighting for their lives, it's not easy to lie about your true self then. And when it comes to me... you know I trust people to be good, I'd trust friends with my life, but that... that kind of trust Mary has, giving her life to him, so sure he won't destroy it... I can only shudder. Because there are lovely marriages out there, but there are also the ones where I had to watch the wife's burial." Not as many in her kingdom, perhaps because women knew that their princess would directly act to protect them, and that had, at least for now, changed they way people approached marriage, but there had been enough that even now Emma could feel goosebumps. And some, some could not be stopped by any law.

"And yet you still…?"

Still what? She looked at him with genuine worry, because what else could he be asking, if not why then she didn't trust him.

"Do you realize how much you've helped me? Emma, these past few months..."

She shook her head, not really seeing the great 'help' she had supposedly brought, especially not now that she was clearly causing him distress. Whatever good she had done, she must have just ruined.

"the people in question just know."

She took a moment to swallow the pain his words caused, lowering her head and trying to let it go. "I don't... think my heart works like that anymore..." Emma whispered. Given the way she had approached her dalliance with Arian, expecting marriage and happiness despite him giving her all sorts of signs that he didn't like her, let alone love her, she had no doubt that if she had never met him she'd still be that naive - if not married yet, she'd have likely been trying to charm Ben with the intention of snatching him home. Now, however, she was on the opposite, extreme, side.

"But...you confess to it being the truth? You know my words to be true, and you understand there is reason to what I'm saying, so surely that means...? That perhaps one day...?"

She nodded at his first questions, she owed him the full truth, but stopped at his perhaps, because she could not give him false hope. Instinctively taking a step back when she saw him tensing up, she expected anger and then felt disappointed in herself for it, yet validated in her fear that she'd never stop reacting that way if even a man like Ben could scare her when simply discussing a hypothetical relationship.

"I'm not going anywhere. You may hate me and push me away if you so choose, but...I won't let you go through this alone. You don't have to be alone. Not anymore."

"I deserve to be alone," she replied simply, the one sentence that didn't have her voice shake with fear or pain. She was the cause of it, after all - but it did feel odd to be so brutally honest with him about that, when up until that day she had been relentlessly positive. Still, that was the truth. Ben hadn't spoken of wanting to be with her as a partner in life, so she couldn't exactly point out that she couldn't give him what he wanted, if no wanting had been outwardly expressed.

"You don't understand... with Arian... it was my fault too. I let him hurt me like this, if I saw a man act with another woman the way he did with me now, I'd beat him to a pulp. But I let him. And it wasn't even... it wasn't even that bad, I can assure you that," she shrugged helplessly, "It wasn't that bad and yet I fell apart. In ways I can't..." She couldn't tell him, could she? Her parents had never forced her to keep it a secret, but as much as being melancholic could suit a poet, a princess would be called crazy and the throne questioned. "I don't think I'll ever be able to even say the words a man should hear. I can't stop myself from waiting for pain either. If you..." she paused, and slowly tried again: "If you and I... if you and I tried... something like that... it doesn't matter how great I know you to be, the fear would come from me. And I wouldn't be able to control it, to tell myself you wouldn't hurt me. I'd still flinch. I'd still wait for it. And that's just... that's unfair. To you. Because you are..." she gestured at him and turned around to take a few steps and wipe her tears, "Look at you, you are the perfect man, and I'm the one who is broken, and it will not go away. He's in my head. He will always be in my head. Because I should have saved myself, at least, to be free, but I didn't, and I will always be the girl who couldn't."

The longer Emma spoke, the deeper the heartache that seared into her words, writhing and twisting like an unsettled snake. "I've just seen so much, Ben," she whimpered. "I know it looks like nothing has touched me, but the memories haunt me. I can't let them show on the outside, but at a time like this... I've seen too much, I think."

"It truly pains you? To see others...in any sort of relationship?" Benjamin pressed, struggling to understand. "But what about your parents? I know I've only just met them, but do they not prove true how love exists? That there can be and are positive, wonderful relationships to be had in this world?"

Emma spoke his name then, soft and distant, and with glassy tears in her eyes. Voice laced with sorrow, she explained, "It takes time to know someone. It takes seeing them the way I've seen you: happy, mad, sad, frustrated... I have no doubt that you'd treat a woman the way... any woman would want and deserve to be treated."

"And yet you still...?" Trailing off, Benjamin swallowed back the words, unsure if he could handle a candid answer -- or rather, unsure if he could comprehend the complete fear and revulsion and self-loathing. The way her body curled inward and she seemed physically repulsed by her own private horrors brought a strong ache to his throat, and on impulse, he reached up and took her face between his hands, gently stroking. "Do you realize how much you've helped me? Emma, these past few months..." He faltered again, the lump in his throat nearly strangling him. "Em, I do understand that some things take time, but then other times...well...the people in question just know. Their hearts can never be plainer than what they feel."

To his horror, the tears welled up in Emma's eyes and threatened to spill over. "I can't...trust when it comes to love. Trust a man like Mary does? When all that matters are feelings and I can forget all my worries? I can't... I can't not worry. I can't feel safe."

All at once, Benjamin dropped his hands from her face, fearing that his touch might have prompted such panic. As she continued onward in her confession, the painful throb in his heart spread, leaving him dizzy and winded as he struggled to absorb this new facet to her soul.

"I will always be afraid," she continued. "I'm too broken to be able to feel the truth in what you are saying, and as such I should not... be with a good man who is kind to me. Because I can never give him what he deserves. I hope you can see that now, before..."

Unbidden, Benjamin's heart leapt with hope, jangling about between his ribs. "But...you confess to it being the truth?" he prodded. "You know my words to be true, and you understand there is reason to what I'm saying, so surely that means...? That perhaps one day...?" Swallowing back the words, he yearned to reach for her again, but instead abruptly tamped back the urge, unwilling to corner her when she appeared so lost and forlorn. Shoulders tensing, he concluded, "I'm not going anywhere. You may hate me and push me away if you so choose, but...I won't let you go through this alone. You don't have to be alone. Not anymore."

[luna-azzurra]

Romantic Gestures for Characters 

❥ The “I Know You” Gesture

Your character remembers something tiny. Maybe their partner always peels oranges but hates the stringy bits. So they do it for them, meticulously. No grand speech. Just peeled oranges on a napkin, handed over like, I got you. It’s not flowers. It’s better.

❥  The “You Matter More Than My Ego” Move

Apologies. Vulnerable, awkward, ugly ones. Not performative, not flowers-as-a-bandage. Just a raw, honest “I screwed up. And you didn’t deserve that.” That’s romance with guts.

❥ The “I Made This With My Clumsy, Lovesick Hands” Attempt

It’s not a five-star meal. It might be an overcooked mess. But they tried. They Googled recipes, burnt a pan, and still showed up with a crooked smile and a smoke-scented apology. Intimacy lives in the effort, not the execution.

❥  The “I’m Thinking of You Even When You’re Not Around” Habit

A voice memo left in the middle of the day. A text that says, “I saw this book and thought of you.” A saved pastry because “you love those stupid lemon ones.” It’s in the thought, the noticing. The I-carry-you-with-me-even-here of it.

❥  The “You’re Safe With Me” Moment

Middle of a panic attack. They don’t run, they don’t fix. They sit. Hold a hand. Count breaths. They become a lighthouse in the fog. That’s not just romance, it’s sanctuary.

❥ The “Make You Laugh When You Want to Cry” Trick

Silly voices. Bad dad jokes. A spontaneous dance in the kitchen just to make them smile. Love doesn’t always whisper—it cackles, snorts, belly-laughs until you can’t remember what the fight was about.

❥ The “I See the You Nobody Else Gets to See” Love

Noticing the nervous tic they try to hide. The quiet resilience. The softness behind the sarcasm. Your character sees it all and chooses to love them there. Not despite their mess, but because of it.

❥  The “I’ll Go to the Boring Thing Because You Care” Sacrifice

They hate art galleries. Or jazz. Or your character’s weird book club full of PhD students. But they show up. They try. They listen and maybe even ask a thoughtful question. Not because they suddenly love postmodern fiction, but because they love you.

❥ The “Let Me Take Care of You, Just This Once” Flip

Especially powerful when it comes from your fiercely independent character. When they finally let someone in. Accept help. Rest their head on a lap and let themselves be held. Or be the one doing the holding for someone who never asks.

❥  The “I Want to Remember This” Gesture

No, not just a scrapbook. Maybe it's saving movie stubs, or voice recording a partner’s laugh because it's perfect and might not last. Maybe it's writing a poem they'll never read. Romance often lives in what we keep sacred, quietly.

❥ Bonus — The Non-Obvious Public Gesture

Holding hands in public when your character usually doesn’t. Or kissing their partner’s temple in front of their disapproving parents. Or calling them “baby” when it makes their partner smile like a fool. Public affection isn’t about performance, it’s about pride. Claiming someone. Softly, fiercely.