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#‘I’m nothing without them’ and ‘it’s not about you’ can and do mix into quite the dangerous cocktail huh
turtleblogatlast · 5 months
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[ cw: sacrifice / self sacrifice / slight suicidal themes / death mention / ]
I personally think that Leo took the wrong lessons from the movie. I definitely think he grew to understand the importance of teamwork and making sure he takes others into account so as to not harm them by proxy of whatever scheme he has cooked up, however based on the ending events I’m not quite certain he fully grasped two things.
The first thing is communication. Oh, he can communicate, and he does, when he deems it necessary. When he’s setting up a plan prior to the action. But this is where the second thing comes in.
The second thing I don’t think Leo truly grasped is “it’s not about you.” It’s so unbearably easy to take that the wrong way, especially when taking the rest of the series into account.
What I believe Leo took from this message is not “it’s not just you, everyone matters and can contribute, can help and be helped” but “put the whole of everyone above yourself” which can both be a good lesson…and a fatal one.
And it is fatal, we see as much in the movie.
Even after the big hope speech, when Leo is “fighting” Krang!Raph, he takes a huge risk. Sure, it worked, and Leo managed to get through to Raph through a well deserved apology, but it could have so easily ended in his death and yet he barely even hesitates to go for it.
And then again, to the big scene at the end, where Leo sacrifices himself not only for the sake of his family, but for the whole world.
To him, that’s the message to take from this. That the lives of everyone, of the greater good, matters…more than him. That the risk to himself is worth it if others can be saved.
Leo learned that gambling with his life as the betting chip is always the best move to make in the end.
And to make matters worse…this thinking is what works.
These risks are ultimately what is needed to save the day, so why would Leo look away from it now? Clearly it’s the right move and everything worked out!
Thing is, Leo did grow from the events of the movie. He learned to take things more seriously and be more mature, he learned to value his team’s input and capabilities enough to rely on them more, and he learned to be less self-centered and realize the turmoil others were going through (especially if that turmoil is a result of his actions.)
But still, he’s grown to accept the gamble of his life as a viable answer to their problems.
Personally, with how Leo has been shown to toy around with the idea of “it’s better me than them” I think this goes beyond sacrifice in the name of love or even sacrifice in the name of responsibility, and pushes over into sacrifice in the name of worth.
#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt leo#rottmnt headcanons#rise leo#death mention /#sacrifice /#self sacrifice /#suicidal tendencies implication /#I honestly could go on for hours but this is all a kinda messy ramble rn#but yeah like…I genuinely can’t see how Leo doesn’t take the wrong message from this all#sure he gets a lot of good growth but#he’s a gambler at heart#it’s just now he’s only willing to bet *himself*#ONCE AGAIN-#‘I’m nothing without them’ and ‘it’s not about you’ can and do mix into quite the dangerous cocktail huh#thing that gets me here too is that a lot of what Leo has to learn in the movie is things he already showed moments of knowing in the show#like Leo KNOWS what his family is capable of and can rely on them if necessary#the problem is when it’s necessary#and he grew to understand that it’s actually ALWAYS necessary…except at the very end#leo is also often the voice of reason throughout the series…but he also often folds and just goes with the flow#he’s goofy like that lol#and tbh he likes to RELAX#that’s a pretty subtle but pretty substantial part of his character#imo at the beginning of the movie Leo KNOWS he’s being immature and THATS THE POINT#they’re still kids man#they’re all just kids#but yeah#I keep rambling and rambling but Leo really is such a tragic character in the grand scheme of things#he’s so utterly fascinating to look at because of how many layers and complexities he has but I just want to give him a hug and let him rest
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yeorisanaxox · 20 days
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ᴀᴛᴇᴇᴢ ➤ sᴇᴇɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀɴᴛɪᴇs
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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ᴏᴛ8 x ꜰᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ɢᴇɴʀᴇ ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋ, sᴏᴍᴇ sᴜɢɢᴇsᴛɪᴠᴇ, sᴍᴜᴛ
sᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏ ➬ ᴛʜᴇᴍ sᴇᴇɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀɴᴛɪᴇs
ᴍɪɴᴏʀs ᴅɴɪ
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs sᴏꜰᴛ ᴅᴏᴍ!ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ, ᴍɪɴɢɪ ᴅᴇᴀʟs ᴡ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀᴄᴀʀᴇ, ᴀss sʟᴀᴘᴘɪɴɢ/ᴄʜᴇᴇᴋ ᴘɪɴᴄʜɪɴɢ, ᴘᴇᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇs, ʟᴏᴡᴇʀᴄᴀsᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇɴᴅᴇᴅ
ɴᴏᴛᴇ ɪ'ᴠᴇ ʟɪᴛᴇʀᴀʟʟʏ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴡᴏʀᴋɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪs ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀʀᴄʜ ᴜᴘ ᴛɪʟʟ ɴᴏᴡ :,) ᴊᴜsᴛ ʟᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ʙᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ɪs ʜᴀʀᴅ ʟᴏʟ ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴅɪᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ :)
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ʜᴏɴɢᴊᴏᴏɴɢ. You were trying to get dressed as quietly as you possibly could without waking up your boyfriend but for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out where the hell you had tossed your damn pants the night before. Sure they had legs but they couldn’t just get up and walk off.
It had gotten so bad that you started checking in bizarre places like behind hoongjoong’s desktop and the little space between his headboard and wall but they weren’t there either.
Where the hell—
“What are you doing?” You jumped and whipped around to see your boyfriend sitting up on one arm. Not one wink of sleep was in his eyes, making you question how long had he been awake.
“I’m looking for my pants but I can’t find them…” you trailed off in your starting rant, noticing a certain glint in his eye and that’s when it clicked. That’s why he doesn’t look tired. Stalking up to his side of the bed and darting your hand out.
“Give me my pants.” You say with all seriousness.
“And why would I do that when this view is so much better?” Referring to you standing there in your panties. He teasingly bites his lip whilst reaching out to hook his finger in the band of them and pull you closer to him with one tug.
“How about you come lay back down and let me see you some more like this, and just maybe I’ll consider giving them back.”
sᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ. He probably wouldn’t have freaked out as much if it had happened at your place, knowing that sometimes yours and his laundry did get mixed up between visits. But because it happened at the dorms where any of the boys could’ve seen it. And just his luck, of course it was wooyoung who saw them.
“Hyung, I think you forgot something.” He turns and finds wooyoung skipping up to him with his hands behind his back. Did he? His laundry soap was sitting on top of his basket so it couldn’t be that. Did he maybe forget to empty the dryer fully? His face then flashes to something horrific at the sight of wooyoung holding your underwear just by the strap.
Never have he moved so fast, snatching the garment out of his hand, not without whipping him upside the head with them after.
“Ow!!”
“These are mine!” He spat stupidly, not thinking what he was saying. He was just trying to get them in the pocket of his sweats before any of the others saw.
“Since when do you wear—”
“You speak nothing of this. Nothing! Or else I’ll tell San it was you the one who spilt coffee on shiber.”
He didn’t even wait for his reaction before stalking off to his room, closing the door shut. Seonghwa let out a big sigh, pushing himself away from it and onto his bed where he then reaches for his phone and pulls up your contact to text you.
To y/n:
Found those panties you were looking for. You caused me quite the trouble. I think you should make it up to me…
ʏᴜɴʜᴏ. “What do you think about this dress, baby?”
Approaching him from behind, yunho puts his phone down to give you his— UNDIVIDED ATTENTION?? He gaped at the so-called dress you spun around in, the end just barely meeting your mid thighs and the material…well let’s just say, he could see your ass.
Out of nowhere, in your little fashion show, he starts laughing and clapping to himself, raising a frown from you.
“What’s so funny?” Folding your arms in offense. And just like that, he stopped, wiping his last fake tear before sliding forward to the edge of the couch with a more heartfelt tone.
“Baby. I can literally see your underwear through that dress.” He points at your rear, which you try and cover with your hands.
“You’re lying.” You scoff, ready to walk your way back to your room to see what he was talking about but his hand was quicker. Swiftly catching you by the thigh, he backs you into him and with the other hand, he grabs the end of your dress and pulls it up over the mound of your ass.
“Yunho!” You exclaimed and reached out in front of you to steady yourself on the coffee table.
“Yeah I can definitely see them now.” He chuckles darkly, sending chills down your spine as he fondled with one asscheek before delivering it with a hard smack.
“Bending over like this, anybody else would’ve seen them too…”
ʏᴇᴏsᴀɴɢ. The only time he ever really saw them was behind closed doors and that being just for a blink before tossing them somewhere on the floor.
So when you casually appear out of nowhere, walking up to him in one of his shirts and just your panties, he quite literally chokes on the water he was drinking and gaped at you as if you had grown two heads.
First of all, you looked stunning as hell in his clothes but seriously, what the fuck?!
“Are you crazy?!” He panics and hurriedly pulls you down into his lap, covering you both with some blanket that happened to be next to him.
“If one of the guys were to come back and saw you, I would never hear the end of it.”
Especially from wooyoung. God—He mainly wouldn’t let something like this go without endlessly teasing him about it for at least a month.
There then was a long moment of silence, the only source of sound came from the show playing in front of you that was long forgotten, that was till yeosang breaks it.
In the quietest of voices, you were still able to hear, “They’re really cute tho.” Despite his face being buried in your shoulder.
sᴀɴ. He’d usually knock before entering your bedroom when he knew you went to change but at the moment wooyoung wasn’t making any sense in his spawn of messages and on top of that, san’s phone was about to die.
‘Charger. Charger. Charger.’ Was the only thing going off in his head, almost making himself run into a wall because he was trying to respond at the same time that it didn’t even register to him that he had barged in on you until you let out a squeak.
“Oh—I’m sorry baby,” he instantly covers his eyes as if he hasn't seen you in your underwear before.
“It’s okay. You just scared me, that’s all.” Breathing out relief. “Good thing you’re here though,” your tone instantly switching to a more bubbly one. “What do you think about these? I got them for a great deal at the mall.”
He then removed his hand and looked as you gave him a little 360 of the new panties you were sporting. Cute and minimum coverage. Just how he liked them.
“So pretty.” His tone being soft while he reaches out to pull you in by the hip to get a better look. His fingers sneakily wander over the material and even more slyly pinches your cheeks, causing you to yelp and smack his chest.
To sum up the story, his phone eventually ended up dying so whatever it was wooyoung needed to say, it was gonna have to wait until he was done with you.
ᴍɪɴɢɪ. You were already long gone by the time he came back with a warm washcloth and a fresh pair of panties to clean you up with. All those times you teased him the following morning for falling asleep immediately, now look at you. He finally had something to get you back with. But for the moment, all he wanted to do is take care of you.
Gently, he spread your legs without waking you so that he could start cleaning you. Once he was done, he then shimmied on your panties, making sure they were comfortable sitting on your hips.
There. He thinks to himself, smiling suddenly at what he picked out. The red and green cherry pattern was in complete contrast to your purple bra that was peeking out over your tank top. So he may have or not picked them up just because they were cute but hey, at least you covered. That was his logic.
He pulls your strap back on your shoulder while also leaning down to press a tender kiss against your forehead, “I love you.”
ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ “wooyoung, please.” Bucking your jean-clad pussy into his hand, trying to get more friction. If you didn’t need him so badly and knew that you could make yourself feel twice as good, you wouldn’t even be putting up with his teasing. But the hard reality was that you couldn’t. And he knew that just as well.
That’s why getting you all worked up was more pleasurable for him. That if at any point he stopped, you were going to beg him til tears. He knew just how to get what he wanted from his little princess and exactly how to make her behave.
“So wet for me and I haven’t even taken these off.” He giggles in your ear, referring to the dark patch that was dead center of your crotch.
“Let’s see now. Can woo see?” He laughs again at your frantic nodding. His hands then work on the bottom of your jeans, popping it open before shimming them down your legs.
“My, my, my. What do we have here?”
Just as he expected. You had seeped right through your panties, which he couldn't help but notice they were the ones he bought you for Valentine’s Day. You only wore them on special occasions.
“You wore these just for me?” He cooes and grabs the top of them, and pulls them up so that the seat was rubbing right on your clit. You moaned loudly at finally getting some stimulation, basking in it as long as you can.
“We’re gonna leave these on. That alright?”
ᴊᴏɴɢʜᴏ. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why did you say yes to spending the night? You never spent the night. Not because you didn’t want to. Hopefully he never thought that for all those times you turned down his offer. It’s just that— spending the night meant sharing the same bed. And while that doesn’t seem too big of a deal, you were still nervous because you only slept in your underwear.
Sleeping was more comfortable that way and solely why you had always been afraid to spend the night. You didn’t want to weird him out with your little habit.
Sensing your hesitation to climb in the bed after him, he frowned as you stared at the empty space beside him in deep thought.
“Hey,” he reached out to touch your hand in a loving manner, drawing your attention from the empty space to meet his eyes.
“If you’re uncomfortable with this, it’s okay. I’ll sleep on the floor and you take the bed.”
“No, no! It’s not that. It’s just…” you take a long pause before letting out a defeated sigh. There was no other way to tell him at this point.
“I only like to sleep in my underwear. My legs get too hot if I’m in pants but I didn’t want to weird you out because this is your room and I have no right to do what I want—”
Mid rant, somehow Jongho managed to scoot closer to you without you noticing and pulled you down, shutting you up with a brief kiss.
“It’s okay, doll. You can sleep in your underwear if you want. I just want you to be as comfortable as possible.”
He gives you an reassurancing smile whilst gently squeezing your hand. You return one of the same before letting out another sigh and stepping back to shimmy out of your pants. Blushing instantly at the way he eyed your panties, “pretty,” was all he said as he pulled you down in the bed with him.
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written by yeorisanaxox. No translations or reposting. Leave a like and reblog w [feedback is much appreciated] ✨
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pucksandpower · 3 months
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Prove Them Wrong
Charles Leclerc x wife!Reader
Summary: when an invitation to your high school reunion arrives, you are ready to throw it in the garbage … but your husband convinces you to go and prove them wrong
Happy Charles Leclerc contract extension day to all who celebrate 🫶
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The invitation arrives in the mail on a Tuesday morning. You’ve just finished your coffee and are clearing the breakfast dishes when you see it — that familiar crest imprinted on the thick, creamy stationary. Your five-year high school reunion.
Immediately, your stomach drops. You haven’t thought about high school in years, haven’t had any contact with your classmates in just as long. Those weren’t the easiest years for you. In fact, they were some of the hardest.
You were shy, quiet, a bit awkward. You never quite fit in with the popular crowd, though you longed to. Much of your time was spent alone, lost in books and music, wishing you could break out of your shell. The kids were cruel in their exclusion. You still remember the whispers, the laughter at your expense, the feeling of being an outsider looking in.
After graduation, you left it all behind without a backward glance. You built a new life, one where you finally found your place. You have a successful career, an amazing husband, a beautiful home. You’ve traveled the world, experienced things you could have never imagined as that geeky teen.
Yet holding the invitation in your hands, the old insecurities come flooding back. Could you really face those people again? The ones who looked through you like you were invisible? Who made you feel small?
You’re lost in thought when Charles comes into the kitchen. He kisses your cheek and asks what’s wrong. Wordlessly, you hand him the invitation.
He glances at it and understanding dawns on his face. “Ah, a reunion. I take it you’re not thrilled?”
You shake your head. “I hated high school. The kids were really mean. I don’t know if I can go back there and face them again.”
Charles pulls you into a hug. “I’m sorry you went through that, love. Kids can be terribly cruel.” He looks thoughtful for a moment. “You know, this might be a good chance to show them how wrong they were about you.”
You give him a skeptical look and he continues. “Think about it — you’re not that shy girl anymore. You’ve accomplished so much, you have an amazing life. Maybe going back will give you some closure. A chance to prove to yourself and to them how far you’ve come.”
“I don’t know ...” you say uncertainly.
Charles grasps your shoulders, looking into your eyes. “You are an incredible woman. You have nothing to feel insecure about. I know it won’t be easy, but I think this could be good for you. Let them see the strong, successful person you’ve become. And I’ll be right by your side the whole time.”
You take a deep breath, letting his words sink in. Maybe he’s right. This could be an opportunity to flip the script, to rewrite the ending to that difficult chapter of your life.
“Okay,” you say finally. “Let’s do it.”
Charles grins and pulls you in for a real embrace now. “That’s my girl. I’m so proud of you.”
Over the next few weeks, you have moments of confidence mixed with waves of doubt. Charles is a constant source of reassurance. The night before the reunion, your nerves are frayed.
“What if they’re still awful? What if all those old feelings come rushing back the moment I see them?” You fret as you get ready for bed.
Charles takes your hands, his gaze earnest. “I know you’re scared, chérie. But don’t forget — you’re not alone now. I’ll be by your side the whole time. And if anyone says one nasty thing, we’ll walk right out that door, okay?”
You smile gratefully at him. “Okay. Thank you, Charlie. I don’t know if I could do this without you.”
He kisses you softly. “You’ve got this. Get some rest, mon cœur.”
***
In the morning, you take extra care getting ready, donning an elegant dress and styling your hair just so. Looking in the mirror, you remind yourself that you belong in these clothes, in this life.
The reunion is at your old high school, in the gymnasium. As you walk in hand-in-hand with Charles, the smells hit you first — sweat and sneakers, just like you remember. There are balloons and streamers, a table of snacks and drinks. And clustered together, familiar faces you haven’t seen in five years.
Your heart begins to pound. Charles gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’ve got this,” he murmurs. Then you lift your chin and step forward to greet your past.
As you scan the room, you recognize faces that used to fill the halls of your high school. Some look familiar, unchanged by the passing years. Others you barely recognize at all.
You steel yourself as a group of giggling girls comes into view — the former popular clique. Lindsay, Heather, and Bethany. Once the queens of the school, rulers of all they surveyed.
Lindsay spots you first. Her overly plumped lips curl into a smirk. “Well, look who it is. Little Y/N Y/L/N.”
You squeeze Charles’ hand tighter as that old childhood instinct to shrink kicks in. But you lift your chin and meet Lindsay’s gaze head-on. “Lindsay. Hello.”
Her eyes flick dismissively over you before landing on Charles. They widen, lips parting. Of course she recognizes him — his face is rarely out of the public eye.
“Y/N!” Bethany exclaims with obviously fake delight. “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?”
You allow yourself a small, satisfied smile. “Of course. This is my husband, Charles Leclerc.”
Charles gives them a polite nod. “Pleasure to meet you ladies.”
The mean girls’ jaws drop in unison. You can’t help but feel a swell of pride at the impressed once-overs they give Charles.
Heather recovers first, plastering on a sycophantic grin. “The pleasure’s all ours! What a lovely surprise.” She touches Charles’ arm lightly. “We would love to catch up and hear all about your life, Y/N.”
You catch Charles’ eye. His lips twitch, seeing right through them.
“That’s kind of you to offer,” you say smoothly. “If you’ll please excuse us, I see some other classmates I’d like to greet.”
You steer Charles away, leaving them sputtering. As soon as you’re out of earshot, he chuckles. “Well, they certainly changed their tune quickly.”
“Once they realized they could get something from me now,” you reply wryly.
You make small talk with a few classmates, keeping it surface-level. Charles’ presence by your side is bolstering. With him here, you’re reminded that you have nothing to prove to these people. Your worth isn’t defined by their approval.
After grabbing drinks, you scan the room again. Your stomach sinks as your eyes land on a familiar figure — Brad Collins. Handsome as ever, surrounded by a gaggle of admirers.
Brad was your biggest crush all through high school. You pined for him secretly, knowing he was way out of your league. He never gave you the time of day — too focused on football, parties, and whichever popular girl caught his eye that week.
“Everything okay?” Charles asks, noticing your expression.
You nod tightly. “My old crush is here.”
Charles spots him and understanding crosses his face. He presses a kiss to your temple. “His loss, mon amour.”
At that moment, Brad looks up and notices you. His stare is cold, dismissive. He says something to his friends and they erupt in laughter, eyes cutting your way.
Your cheeks burn. Some things never change.
Charles’ jaw tightens. He takes your hand firmly and starts steering you toward Brad and his posse.
You glance at him in surprise. “What are you doing?”
“We’re going over to say hello,” he replies calmly.
“Charles, you don’t have to ...”
He silences you with a look. “Trust me.”
You swallow hard and nod. Brad watches you approach with that familiar cocky smirk.
“Well, look who it is,” he drawls as you come to stand before him. “Never thought I’d see you at one of these things, Y/L/N.”
You stare him down unwaveringly. “Yes, well, people can surprise you.”
Brad’s gaze slides to Charles, brows lifting. You can see him trying to place how he might know this handsome, expensively dressed man by your side.
“Brad, this is my husband, Charles Leclerc,” you say sweetly.
Brad’s smirk disappears. His friends gape between you and Charles.
“Husband, huh?” Brad says after a pause, regaining his bravado. “Well, congratulations. Didn’t know you had it in you to land a guy like this.”
Fury rises in you, but before you can respond, Charles steps forward. His voice is pleasant but his eyes are steel.
“Clearly you don’t know much about my wife at all. But that’s your loss. I’m the lucky one who gets to experience her incredible heart and mind every day.”
Brad flushes under Charles’ stare. An awkward beat passes.
Charles continues calmly, “I couldn’t ask for a better partner. I just hope you realize what an opportunity you missed out on back then. Have a good night, gentlemen.”
He turns, guiding you away and leaving Brad speechless behind you. Your eyes shine as you gaze up at Charles.
“Have I told you lately that I love you?”
He grins. “Feel free to tell me again. And I meant every word.” He nods over at Brad’s group, now whispering furiously. “Hopefully that wipes the smirk off his face.”
You laugh, leaning up to kiss Charles’ cheek. “This turned out to be good advice after all. Thank you for being here, for reminding me who I am now.”
The rest of the reunion passes uneventfully. You mingle, laugh, and share stories with classmates who weren’t part of the toxic popular crowd. They’re welcoming and kind. For the first time, you feel like you’re reconnecting with peers, not tormentors.
As you and Charles get into the car to drive home, you let out a long, satisfied breath. The demons of your past have been conquered for good. You faced your bullies and they’re the ones who were left lacking.
You squeeze Charles’ hand, your heart full of gratitude. “Let’s go home.”
***
The adrenaline rush from the reunion slowly fades as you and Charles drive to your hotel. You lean your head back against the leather seat, letting out a long exhale.
“How are you feeling?” Charles asks, glancing your way.
You consider the question. “Good,” you realize with some surprise. “Really good actually.”
Charles smiles. “I’m glad to hear it.”
You shake your head slowly. “I can’t believe I almost didn’t go. Thank you for pushing me to face them. It was so empowering to see their reactions, to realize how little I care about their opinions now.”
“You did all the hard work,” he reminds you. “I just gave you a little nudge. I’m so proud of you, chérie.”
Warmth spreads through you at his words. Not for the first time, you feel a rush of gratitude that this man chose you, sees you, loves you exactly as you are.
Once in your suite, Charles makes you a cup of chamomile tea and you curl up together on the couch. You rest your head on his shoulder, replaying the events of the night in your mind.
“Do you think they’ll actually learn anything from tonight?” You ask after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “All those kids who were so terrible — will seeing me change their perspectives at all?”
Charles considers this, running his fingers idly through your hair. “I’m not sure. Hopefully it gave them something to think about, but some people never grow out of that mindset. The important thing is that you held your head high and didn’t let them make you feel small.”
You nod slowly. “I think if I could go back and tell my teenage self that this night would come, it would have made those years a little more bearable. Knowing I would come through it stronger. That I would have you by my side.”
He kisses the top of your head. “I’ll remind you as often as you need. Though for what it’s worth, I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. You’ve always had an inner strength, even if it took time to fully embrace it. Those kids certainly didn’t put it there.”
You smile up at him. “Have I mentioned lately that you always know exactly what to say?”
He chuckles. “Once or twice.”
You talk softly as the evening winds down, the tea warming you from the inside out. Your reunion with the ghosts of high school is finally behind you. It’s time to let go of the last lingering traces they have over you.
Over the next week, life returns to its normal rhythm. You throw yourself back into work, energized by a new sense of confidence and peace. Every day the experience recedes further into the past.
Until the phone call comes.
You’re just sitting down to lunch when your cell lights up with an unfamiliar number. For a moment you simply stare at it, perplexed.
After a brief internal debate, you answer. “Hello?”
“Y/N!” Lindsay chirps in an overly bright voice. “How are you, hon?”
You hold the phone away from your ear, making a face at her faux familiarity. “I’m fine. To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask evenly.
“Well, I was just calling to see if we could get together! You know, have a little reunion of our own. I’d love to catch up outside of that whole silly event.”
You nearly choke on your water. “You would?”
“Of course!” Lindsay laughs airily. “I barely got to talk to you. And I’d love to spend more time with that charming husband of yours ...”
Ah. There it is. You have to stifle an eye roll.
“That’s … kind of you to offer,” you say carefully. “But I’m afraid our schedules are pretty busy at the moment.”
“Oh, I’m sure we could find the time!” She presses. “I would love to take you two to dinner. My treat!”
Tempting as that is, you have zero desire to spend more time with this woman, despite her transparent new interest in you.
“Appreciate the invitation, but I’ll have to pass,” you say, your tone final. “Take care, Lindsay.”
You hang up before she can protest further. Shaking your head, you go back to your salad. Some things never change.
When Charles gets home, you regale him with the bizarre phone call. He looks equally astonished.
“She actually asked you to dinner? Just to get closer to me?” He gives an incredulous laugh.
You grin ruefully. “Yep. I guess you made more of an impression than we realized.”
He shakes his head in disbelief. Then his expression turns thoughtful.
“You know what? I think we should take her up on that offer after all.”
You stare at him. “What? Why?”
His eyes glint mischievously. “Because I’d like to make it very clear what I think of people who treat you so poorly. And a free dinner out sounds lovely.”
You can’t help but laugh at his unexpected scheming side. “Look at you, getting all protective and devious! I have to admit, it would be gratifying to knock her off her pedestal a bit more.”
Charles winks. “That’s what I was thinking.”
And so, despite your better judgment, you call Lindsay back and accept her invitation to dinner that weekend.
You take more care than usual getting ready, playing up your most striking features. Charles looks unfairly handsome in his designer suit, hair perfectly tousled just to annoy Lindsay further.
When you arrive at the trendy upscale restaurant she chose, Lindsay is already there waiting. She air-kisses your cheeks in greeting, fawning over you and Charles effusively.
As the meal begins, she dominates the conversation, barely letting you get a word in. She name-drops shamelessly, trying to impress Charles with all her supposed connections.
“Oh Charles, you simply must come stay at our villa in Positano sometime! I’d be happy to arrange it for you both. Anything for Y/N’s hubby!” She titters, touching his arm.
You and Charles exchange subtle amused looks across the table. When the waiter appears for your order, Charles gives him an easy smile.
“My wife will have the scallops and I’ll take the filet. Oh, and send over your most expensive bottle of champagne, please. My treat tonight.”
Lindsay’s smile freezes. You bite back a grin, catching his eye again. Message received.
As dinner winds down, Charles finally turns the tables on her. “So Lindsay, what have you been up to since high school? Y/N tells me you two were quite close.”
Lindsay flushes, flustered. “Oh … well, you know, this and that!” She forces a laugh. “I’m in between ventures at the moment. But I stay very busy with charity work and running in social circles.”
“How lovely for you,” Charles says neutrally. “And your husband? What does he do?”
“I’m, uh, not married,” she mumbles, clearly off-kilter now.
“I see. Well, I’m sure the right man will come along someday.” He smiles placidly. “Everyone deserves to feel that kind of love, don’t you agree?”
Lindsay just nods, face pinched. You stifle a satisfied smile behind your napkin.
Later in the car, Charles grins over at you. “That was entertaining.”
You lean over and kiss his cheek. “Have I mentioned you’re the best husband ever?”
He laughs. “A few times. But I’ll never get tired of hearing it.”
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luveline · 4 months
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hi, i’m not sure if your requests are open, forgive me if not, but i’ve been thinking about bombshell!reader and spence lately. not sure if you’ve written this already or something similar, but how about them sharing a room on a case? similar to alaska.
fem, 1k
Spencer predicted the outcome of the roommate situation fairly quickly. Ignoring whatever data he might have in his head about the team, Spencer was always going to end up sharing with you tonight, because the universe hates him, and because you quite like him. 
It's nice to be someone first choice, if nothing else. “Me and Spencer will share, obviously,” you say, holding out your hand for a keycard. 
Hotch passes it over without complaint. He doesn't have to say keep it professional, you will (ish), and he doesn't have to ask Spencer if he's okay with this arrangement. Despite endless exhausting teasing, everyone knows that you and Spencer are actually friends. Or, he thinks you are. 
You certainly feel quite friendly as you hike your bag higher up your arm and sew the other arm through his. “Let's go. I'm so tired I might fall asleep on the way there.” 
You don't look tired. Spencer struggles to understand how every emotion you wear suits you. How every time he looks at you, you're prettier. He read a book recently on human attraction, and less factual but perhaps his most strongly believed takeaway from the book was that a person grows more attracted to the person they're attracted to, like a loop, or an ouroboros snake eating its own tail, forced over and over to make the same stupid mistake. What is he doing? Does he really think this is a good idea? Is he in love with you? How couldn't he be? You walk arm in arm to a room you're going to share and you don't care that he smells sickly of arnica and deodorant mixed together. You ignore the dark circles under his eyes, dark circles you never seem to have, always so perfect, always so you. 
“This one?” you ask, coming to a stop. “Room… 108?” He takes your bag and you smile gratefully, inserting the key, and legging open the door. “Tada. Home sweet home, Dr. Reid.” 
The hotel room is small and stale. Clean, sure, but questionably, with yellowing furnishings and sparse furniture. There's a double bed, two nightstands, a cubby bathroom close to the door, and a single chair near a small free standing countertop opposite of the bed, hosting a microwave and cups with hot chocolate sachets. 
“Wow,” you say, beaming, immediately breaking for the bed. 
“Wait, wait! We have to check for bed bugs.” 
You hold your hands up in surrender. 
Spencer peels the sheets back and uses the little torch on his keychain to investigate the mattress while you sit on the floor, one leg crossed beneath you and the other stretched in front of you as you sort through your clothes. You hum as you fold a shirt cleanly and make a pleased sound that may prove to give him indigestion as you unearth your pyjamas. 
“Spencer, can I shower first? Do you mind?” 
“I don't mind.” He turns off the torch, satisfied. “Thank you. For letting me check without being annoyed.”He says the second bit quieter than he means to. 
“Why would I be annoyed?” you ask, standing up in a whirlwind of pistachio perfume. Low notes of something sweet and caramelised haunt him as you drop your hand on his shoulder. “I'm gonna shower really fast, I swear. Should we get dinner? I bet we could order something to the front desk.” 
“I'll see if they have any menus.” 
Sitting in bed with you, later, showered and fed and drinking microwaved hot chocolate from paper cups together, Spencer has a strange flash of pleasure. Talking to you, seeing you with your hair in its protective style for the night, your skin shining with lotions and serums, and to have the revelation that you really do have dark circles under your makeup, it all feels private and special. Because you're still undeniably beautiful, and you act like he's worth sharing that with. 
He feels overwhelmed, in all honesty. 
You can sense it. You do your best to calm him down. 
“Finish your drink, babe,” you say, knocking him on the thigh with your knuckles. “It was a really long day.” 
“I'm fine.” 
“Yes, you are.” You giggle at yourself. “Sorry, I'm being serious tonight, I decided.” 
“Why?” he asks, puzzled. 
“I don't want to make you uncomfortable.” 
“You don't.” 
You put your hot chocolate on the nightstand and sink back into the pillows, looking every bit a movie star as usual despite your fresh face. It's your expression, the confidence behind them, that makes you so beautiful. 
“What are you thinking?” you ask. 
He looks down into his hot chocolate, swirling the drink around and around. “You're beautiful.” 
It catches you off guard. You're quiet for too long, panic festering in his chest. 
“You are too.” You put your hand on his thigh. When he brings his haze to your face, you've closed your eyes, a small smirk playing on your lips. “Wanna brush my teeth for me?” 
“No.” You both laugh. “Sorry if that was out of the blue, before.”
“I say worse to you,” you say. “Lay down with me. We can snuggle.” 
Spencer lays down. You don't snuggle, but your hand stays pressed to the side of his thigh, and the smell of your perfume lingers despite your shower. It must've been caught in your hair. 
“It's weird,” you say, facing the ceiling, “I'm not tired anymore.” 
“It's called learned arousal.” 
Your laugh is a shock. “Oh, is it now?” 
“Not like that. Are you thinking about work? If you think about certain things while you're in bed, it starts to make it so you think about those things on instinct. You've conditioned yourself.” 
“I don't think so,” you say. “Well, maybe. Mostly I just think about you, Spence. And not like that.” You laugh again, so much laughter Spencer could conjure the sound from memory alone. “Sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I promise I'm not trying to harass you.” 
He stares at the side of your face. “I know what you mean. I think about you too.” 
“Well, good to know I'm not in this torture alone,” you say softly. 
It is the worst night's sleep of Spencer's life, but he thinks he might want to do it again. 
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tboygareth · 10 months
Text
got the idea in my head of the party clocking the steddie tension and bullying eddie about it so this happened | 1.7k | rating: g or t, depending on how you feel about swearing
“I’m gonna need you two to either quit that or get your shit together and make out already.”
Eddie drags his eyes away from the door at the top of the basement stairs that Steve’s just closed on his way out to pick up Max and El, back to the task at hand, the table in front of him, his lost little sheep taking their places around the table in the Wheelers’ basement. It's Erica that spoke up, her eyebrow raised in a condescending kind of way that Eddie’s not sure if she learned from her mother or from Steve.
“Hey, watch your fuckin’ mouth,” he chastises, a little belatedly, a lot unnecessarily, and very obviously a deflection from the meat and potatoes of what she said.
It’s not just little Sinclair watching Eddie anymore; they’re all peering expectantly at him like they’re waiting for an explanation. Well, they’re not gonna get it. This little dance that he and Steve are doing - if it’s even a dance at all - is nobody’s business but their own. 
It’s been months now and it’s driving Eddie out of his goddamned mind but it’s not like he’s going to talk to the fucking kids about it. Jeff and Grant have been pretty receptive about the whole thing and Eddie’s talked both their ears off to the point of annoyance. Gareth won’t even give him the time of day anymore when Eddie starts in on talking about Steve.
It’s just that he and Steve have had this little back and forth going for a few months now, where they’ll flirt and Eddie will just start to think that maybe’s he’s got a shot and then Steve will back away. And then they’ll go a few days without talking and they’ll be back at it with a vengeance, picking on each other and making suggestive comments and very intentionally checking one another out.
But then Eddie’ll see Steve laying that same charm onto every girl that walks into the video store and snap back to himself. The mixed signals make him want to scream a little bit. One minute he’s psyching himself up to ask Steve to come back to his after work, maybe watch a stupid movie and make out on the couch, but then he reminds himself that he’s fucking delusional and Steve is just like that. He’s a flirt, and the way he flirts with Eddie doesn’t mean anything.
But the kids are still watching him, still waiting for an explanation about the way he and Steve were just gazing at each other as Steve climbed the stairs to leave, and so Eddie sighs.
“It’s nothing, okay?”
“Right,” says Henderson with a roll of his eyes and a shrug of his shoulders. “Which is why you two can’t stop making those lovesick faces at each other and flirting with each other, and why neither of you can ever shut up about each other.”
“Steve talks about me?”
“Jesus Christ,” Mike mutters. He’s tipping his chair back, balancing it on two legs. It’d be so easy for Eddie to just… tap it with his foot, send little Wheeler to the floor.
“Anyway!” Eddie says again, clapping his hands together. “It doesn’t matter! It’s nothing! Stevie’s just… like that. Y’know? With everybody. Let’s get to work, we’ve got a campaign to get through, no reason for us to be wasting time talking about Steve Harrington. Right?”
“Wait,” Will cuts in. His smile is a little mischievous, a little mean, and suddenly Eddie doesn’t remember why he likes the littlest Byers as much as he does. “You think Steve acts the way he does with you, with everybody?”
“Yeah. We’re friends. He’s… flirtatious. It’s not a thing, y’know? It’s just. A thing.”
“So you really think he willingly stuffs four teenagers in his car every Friday night to drop us off here, and then goes back out to pick up two more teenagers to bring them out here because…? Friends?” Lucas is looking at Eddie like he thinks he might be ready to grow another head.
Okay. Fuck. So they’re actually talking about this. Eddie and a bunch of snotty little kids are about to talk about his fucking crush on their babysitter. Jesus Christ.
“Listen. We are not discussing this.”
Will ignores him. “If you like him, ask him out.”
“And ruin a perfectly good friendship, baby Byers? I think I’ll pass. Besides, him and Nance…”
“Are long over,” Will insists, leaning forward and putting his arms on the table. “She’s still going out with my brother.”
“Like I said,” Erica cuts in again, “I need you two to suck face already or cut it out. We might be kids but we aren’t blind.”
“Please, he doesn’t even like me like that.”
“Are you kidding?” Dustin again. It’s like a game of round robin, each kid around the table lobbing questions and insistences at him in turn. “How can you say that, Eddie? The way he looks at you, the way he talks to you. He spends his Fridays here, in his ex-girlfriend's basement, to spend time with you. Don’t you see the way he watches you?”
“He just… I tell a good story.”
Mike lets loose a scoff and a sigh that could very well shake the foundations of the house around them. “I don’t even like Steve, but yeah. He treats you different. Special.”
“I already told you - he flirts with everybody. He’s a flirt! That doesn’t mean that it means something.”
“Who else does he call baby?” Lucas asks him, deadpan.
“He has pet names for everybody.”
“No he doesn’t. Who else is he going around touching all the time?”
“Robin, who he does have a pet name for. He calls her Bird.”
“Because you started calling her Bird. He picked that up from you,” Dustin argues. “And yes, he talks about you. He asks about you when he hasn’t seen you in a few days. He mentions stuff you said. He had an Ozzy tape playing in his car today and when I asked about it, y’know what he said?”
“‘Eddie gave it to me,’” Will supplies with a smile. “And he was smiling when he said it. That weird smile he gets sometimes. You know the one.”
“The Eddie smile.”
Eddie’s mouth is dry. His head is swimming a little bit. His heart races. There’s blood pounding in his ears as he thinks about Steve listening to The Ultimate Sin in his car even when Eddie’s not around to tell him about the production of the album or explain the intricacies of the instrumentals. He listens to it because he enjoys the music Eddie’s shown him. He talks about Eddie to the kids, asks about him.
Eddie exists to Steve outside of the weekly campaigns at the Wheelers’.
Doesn’t mean Steve likes Eddie the way Eddie likes him, though. Eddie can’t let himself dwell too much on the possibilities of what that could mean. He’s been crushing for months now. It’s almost winter in Hawkins, and Steve’s started coming around to campaigns more and more often the closer to the holidays it gets; Eddie figured it’s because Nancy will be coming home for Christmas soon - she was just here for Thanksgiving and Steve spent most of that Friday upstairs with her instead of in the basement with Eddie and the kids. So Eddie just kind of figured they were reconciling… 
He’d moped about it after he went home, certain that he’d never have a chance with Steve in spite of his very big, very obvious crush on him.
The thing is, Eddie’s never been all that subtle in his affections. He’s a tactile guy as it is, but with Steve it’s like he can’t keep his hands to himself at all. He finds himself reaching out whenever they’re together, a moon orbiting a planet, and Steve is all too willing to be the gravitational pull that draws Eddie close.
But that doesn’t mean he likes Eddie.
Which is what he says to the kids. They’re still looking at him, waiting for his response.
“You are so blind, God,” Mike groans, covering his face. “We can all see the way he feels about you, and you’re so gaga for him it’s a fucking miracle he hasn’t asked you out himself. Jesus, we are all so sick of this shit.”
“Language, Wheeler.”
“Stop deflecting, Munson. If you don’t say something when he gets back here, I’m gonna tell him for you. We’re all fucking tired of this!”
“I don’t wanna hear it from you, of all people!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“If you don’t know then I’m not gonna tell you. Dumbass teenagers.”
There’s a flurry of footfalls above them, and then the basement door opens to reveal El and Max coming slowly down the stairs with Steve following close behind.
“Tense down here,” Steve smiles. “What’d we just walk in on?”
Panic rises in Eddie as Mike pins him with an evil smile and starts to open his mouth to spill the beans.
“Good news first or bad news first?” Eddie blurts out, holding out a hand towards Mike to shut him up.
“Uh oh,” Steve says. He pauses on the bottom step as the girls hover near the table. Steve’s eyebrows draw together, a little confused and a little concerned, and Eddie’s overcome with the urge to reach out and touch him. “Bad news first, always.”
“We were arguing about you.”
“And the good news?”
“Good news for you, either way. You have the option to prove them all wrong or severely gross them out.”
That crease between Steve’s eyebrows deepens. “What are you talking about?”
Well. Here goes nothing.
“The kids are all convinced you’re into me the same way I’m into you but I told ‘em that’s ridiculous. So you can tell ‘em they’re all idiots or you can come over here and kiss me, make ‘em all wanna wash their eyes out with bleach.”
Steve’s smile is slow to spread, but spread it does. It starts as a twitch in the corner of his mouth and his face softens. That twitch goes a little lopsided, one side of his mouth tipping up into an uncertain smile before it bleeds over onto the rest of his mouth, and he’s grinning. 
The Eddie smile.
It takes him no time at all to cross from the stairs to where Eddie sits at the head of the table and he drags Eddie up out of his seat.
“Guess we better get some bleach ready, then, baby,” Steve says.
And then he kisses him.
because you both asked to be tagged literally anytime i write something: @steves-strapcollection and @patchworkgargoyle - here, i wrote something
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mysaintkitten · 4 months
Text
Trigger-happy | Tommy Shelby x fem!reader
prompt: idek how to summarize this other than gunplay with tommy loool (18+ MDNI !!!)
WARNINGS: gunplay (real sick shit i’m not playing), degradation, unprotected sex (p in v), orgasm denial (eeeehhh)
*not proofread*
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the first thing you notice is the crisp and cold dead grass beneath your knees and calves, then the cool breeze blowing against your bare skin. as you crack your eyes open, you nervously scan your surroundings. it doesn’t take long for you to realize you’re bound in a very large vacant field.
the dress you had been wearing was cut messily, the uneven fabric barely covered the tops of your thighs, and your stockings had been removed too. you couldn’t check, but just judging by how you felt, you assumed you weren’t wearing any underwear either. with your arms and ankles tied, you couldn’t do much to try and cover yourself let alone warm yourself up.
from behind you, you hear footsteps, followed by the sound of a match being lit.
“i assume you’re coherent now.” you hear a familiar voice mutter behind you. that gravely, deep, sexy voice that you know all too well.
as expected, tommy shelby comes up from behind you and steps in front of you, towering over you as you look up at him with confusion. you’d heard of tommy through the grapevine, and you’d occasionally spot him out and about. he was so enticing. like a forbidden fruit, so delicious, so dangerous, you wanted it all.
but being here now and having no choice to submit to him was having your mind and body stirring. you’re partially terrified, and just the slightest bit turned on.
“why am i here?” you finally gather up the courage to speak. tommy leaves you with an uncomfortable silence as he places his cigarette between his lips while he retrieves something from within his pockets. seconds later, he flashes his gun at you.
your body tenses at the bleak shift in energy. was tommy shelby, the man you occasionally fantasized about, moments way from killing you?
“you know …” tommy briefly takes the cigarette out of his mouth while he rummages through his other pockets for bullets. right in front of you, he loads them in one by one. “i’ve heard quite some tales about you, how could a little thing like yourself cause such problems?”
what the fuck is he talking about? for the most part, you just kept to yourself. yes, you may have been involved in some dirty work here and there but come on, who isn’t?
“i don’t know what you mean tom-“ you attempt to start before tommy cuts you off.
“aht- sweetheart, you don’t get the privilege of saying my name. it’s sir.”
“… i don’t know what you mean, sir.” you correct, your tone becoming shaky as the weight of the situation has began to settle in. again, tommy doesn’t respond, leaving you with nothing but your own thoughts. tommy leeches off your nervous energy, it feeds into his superiority complex.
without saying a word, tommy aims the gun directly at your forehead, the icy metal barrel caused your heart to race faster.
“please.” you plead breathlessly, your entire life is playing out in front of your eyes, every single fuck up is looping inside your head.
by some force, an unfamiliar wave of confidence makes it way through you. maybe it’s the adrenaline mixed with some delusion, either way your actions begin to change.
“please.” you repeat, rising up to your knees as best you can with your ankles still bound. tommy keeps the gun in the same place and watches you attentively as you move around in front of him. the barrel of the gun now grazing your nose and lips.
“i’m sure we could …” you hum as you plant a kiss onto the barrel, testing the waters. “work something out, sir.”
through a chuckle, tommy asks “is this your plan? whore yourself out to try and save your life?”
“mmm …” you pretend to think for a moment, your kisses against the gun becoming more deliberate and sloppy. “i’ve always thought you were so handsome, sir. so big and bad.” you bat your lashes at him while teasingly licking the underside of the barrel.
quickly, tommy snags the gun away and shoots off into the field before quickly bringing the gun back down to where he had kept it before.
you can’t help but giggle, this entire situation is so tense— yet suddenly you cannot take it seriously for the life of you.
“wow …” you grin, kitten licking the barrel. “gives you a rush, huh?” you ask tommy. his jaw is clenched and he’s shifting his weight around in a way you’ve never seen him do before. tommy was normally so calculated, have you really thrown him off that much?
“do it.” you whisper, slowly taking the tip of the barrel into your mouth. his jaw goes slack, undoubtedly he’s imagining your lips around his member, licking and teasing him like you’re doing to his gun.
as you slowly blink, your lids becoming heavier as your body starts to get worked up, you take more of the barrel into your mouth. jesus, if any outsiders saw you mimicking fellatio on tommy shelby’s gun, along with tommy allowing you to do it, they’d likely be convinced that hell had frozen over.
tommy swallows, huffing loudly as he finds the right words to say.
“you’re disgusting.” tommy spat. your ego was bruised temporarily, until your eyes drifted down to his bulge, which ultimately revealed tommy’s true opinions on the matter.
“d’you get off on being disgusted, sir? because …” you signal to his cock as best you can without your arms being available, tommy scoffs as if him having an erection during a moment like this meant absolutely nothing.
“come on, just blow off some steam.” you purr as you muzzle the side of your head against the gun, “you’ve got a dirty, vulnerable girl right here in front of you. i couldn’t stop you even if i tried.”
finally, something snaps within tommy. with his free hand, he nudges your shoulder and pushes you down. you fall against the hard ground, and before you even have time to process that tommy is proceeding to flip you over onto your stomach.
then, you feel tommy’s big rough hand grab onto your hip. with ease, he lifts your hips up and forces you into a face-down-ass-up position. you turn your head to the side and whimper at the change, you had much less confidence in a state like this.
“i could blow your fuckin’ brains out …” tommy grumbles as he roughly whips up the bottom half of your very short dress, your back involuntarily arches at the brisk wind hitting your most private, and now sensitive areas. you can tell you’re wet, and tommy can too, cause he can see the wetness glistening off of you. “and all you’re thinking about is getting your holes filled?”
as you mewl back to him, you gasp when you feel the cold barrel make contact with your desperate core. he toys with your slick, watching how quickly your sticky arousal eagerly coats whatever it touches. he pushes the tip of the barrel inside, almost fucking you with his gun.
and as if things couldn’t get worse, his skilled thumb finds its way to your clit. he rubs it and groans when he sees you get wetter around his gun, a bit more of the barrel accidentally sliding inside of you due to your increase in arousal. this is sickening, tommy is getting you off with the weapon he uses to off whoever wrongs him.
tommy takes the gun and his thumb away from you, before you can protest you hear fabric rustling and the sound of a zipper being ripped down. you hold your breath with anticipation, until you feel tommy’s warm tip press against your opening.
“mmh-“ you moan, attempting to rock your hips back against him. you really didn’t need to though, because seconds later tommy shoved his full length inside of you. the sudden stretch and fullness made your mouth hang open with pleasure and pain.
tommy pulls his hips back before slamming them back in, immediately fucking you with a relentless pace. you felt like a cheap whore beneath him, like all he was thinking about was getting himself off. hell, he probably was thinking that, and that only made it hotter.
“such a fuckin’ whore… ‘n still so … shit … so tight.” tommy groans, tipping his head back while mumbling strings of curses under his breath.
“uh-huh … mmh—“ you gasp as tommy’s angles change, causing him to slam into that special spot inside you. “right there, right there—“ you ramble as your whole body pulses with pleasure. again, tommy’s not doing it to make you feel good, he just happened to tweak his angle. and if it just so happens to make you come on his cock, that’s just life he thinks to himself as he feels your arousal spill down onto his balls.
as your mind reels from tommy’s harsh pounding, you feel the barrel being pressed against the side of your head.
“maybe it would be better if i shot you like this.” he pants, laughing breathily to himself. “we could keep that pretty face of yours intact.”
your fate sat in his hands. he could kill you right then and there, you’d have zero say in it. it’s petrifying, and incredibly erotic.
you huff, “you think i’m pretty?”
tommy presses the gun against your head harder, “that’s the part you’re focused on? jesus … stupid fucking whore.”
your cunt clenches around him from his degradation, this wasn’t going to last long. the pace tommy has stuck with was not meant for longterm endurance, that’s why he chose it.
tommy let’s out a low purr at the sensation, “you really are disgusting … gripping my cock like that …” the last bit of his sentence had the slightest bit of praise hidden within it, you absolute ate up such a drastic bittersweet mixture.
his thrusts start to get janky, and his breathing is loud and laboured. much too soon for your liking, tommy pulls out and feverishly pumps himself, huffing harshly as he spills his load onto your ass and back.
you release a little whine. like, obviously the man who was sent to kill you isn’t going to sit there and make you come, but it was definitely nice while it lasted.
you’re pulled out of your thoughts as you feel tommy silently untying you. before long, your limbs are fully free.
tommy pulls out a cigarette, lights it, and takes a generous inhale before speaking.
“if anyone asks, just say you broke out of your restraints before i got here.”
you raise your brow, challenging tommy in a way. “and what if i don’t? what if i say what actually happened?”
tommy laughs, slipping his gun back into his pocket.
“then i’ll find you and actually put a bullet between your eyes. how’s that sound, sweetheart?”
this was one of my before-bed imagine scenarios. sigh. i’m sorry god.
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thedevilspearl · 11 months
Text
are they a dom or a sub — brothers & dateables
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a/n: i’ve seen dom/sub headcanons floating around since the dawn of time and now it’s my turn. these are my headcanons (spoiler alert: most of them are switches) and i want you to know that it’s okay to have differing opinions, and i’m 100% down to discuss your versions with you, just be nice about it loll this is all just for fun <3
tags: all brothers + dateables, no explicit smut but consistent discussion of dom/sub dynamics so minors do not interact!
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𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑  ➛  switch but dom–leaning. as a sub, he is so good and soft. it’s a way for him to accept and nurture his vulnerability with someone he trusts. but as a heavily dominant person, he takes on the dominant role most of the time — though, there are many times he prefers no dynamics of the sort and to just have sex as him and you. but going back to his dom side, he can range from hard to soft and it depends on many factors: his mood, your mood, the time of day, how much energy he has, if you two are alone etc. he does either really well, but he prefers to be a soft dom because he craves soft loving and intimacy over rough and lustful sex. but i will mention, as a hard dom, he loves a challenge so do him a favour and be as bratty as you can be.
𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍  ➛  he is exactly in the middle as a switch. he’s neither dom nor sub–leaning, but perfectly balanced. and similar to lucifer, it all depends on his mood and the atmosphere. as a sub, he’s quite bratty. very moany and loves to feel pain (though, not too much). he has his softer subby moments, but he’s mostly a bratty sub and loves to be tamed (and punished). but as a dom, he would mostly act as a soft dom, or somewhere in between soft and hard, never going into full hard dom mode. don’t get me wrong, he loves rough and nasty sex but he can do all that without being a hard dom. he’s also massively into dirty talk and teasing, so even when he’s a soft dom, you’ll get glimpses of his harder, meaner, dirtier side even if it never comes into full fruition.
𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍  ➛  we’re all convinced levi is sub–leaning, even he is. but i believe his dynamic can change greatly. he starts as a sub because he feels more comfortable with someone else taking the lead while he’s learning what he likes and dislikes, and also what you like and dislike. but his subby–ness can get repetitive and unexciting really quickly. he may be a brat sometimes and would prefer punishments like orgasm denial or no touching over pain–inflicting punishments. but most of the time as a sub, he is so good and sweet, obeying every order like a zealous golden puppy who worships you. later on, he explores his dominant side and he is fully committed to being a soft dom. sex with dom levi is like having sex with your best friend; he’s always praising you and asking if you’re doing okay. he can still be rough (and mean, if you ask for it), but that only makes him eager to be more affectionate.
𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐍  ➛  is a switch but let’s talk about his dom side since we all love to think about rough, mean dom satan. he can be a soft dom and i do headcanon him as one, but he is better suited in the role of a hard dom, particularly when he needs to release his pent up frustration. he needs someone who can take all of his rough, mean energy whilst also accepting his genuinely caring and affectionate side. what i mean to say is, during sex, you would mostly see hard dom satan, but afterwards, it’s nothing but soft and loving dom satan to take care of you. as a sub, he also also better suited as a hard sub. he wants you to test his limits. make him cry. make him scream. make him beg for more and make him beg you to stop. he wants you to treat him in a way no one else would dare to treat him and he very reluctantly wants to be put in place.
𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐔𝐒  ➛  hard dom and hard sub for asmo are a no–no. the hardest he will go is calling you mean names (but they’re somehow always mixed in with praise), maybe spanking and a little bit of hair pulling. oh, and he does love to see you cry. rough sex is fine but with the way he speaks to you so softly and teasingly, it can hardly be considered rough, even when you’re brought to tears. if you want to see dom asmo, be prepared for him to always be a soft dom. as a sub, he may lean towards some harder things, but again, no matter how kinky or experimental sex with asmo is, he has his charming ways and it will turn out soft in the end. he’s kinky but he’s soft mostly all the way. and i would say he is more dom–leaning as a switch. sex is his expertise (sexpertise?) so he prefers to guide the way in the bedroom.
𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐙𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐁  ➛  dom/sub dynamics aren’t that important to beel but when it does play a part in sex, he is most naturally dom–leaning. sub beel has never crossed my mind and it probably never will. even if you are in control, he just can’t find himself in a sub mindset. but if it were the other way around, he could potentially slip into a dom mindset. beel is the demon most in touch with his animalistic nature, and that’s why it’s easier for him to be a dom. i would not categorise him as either hard or soft but rather just someone who likes to be in control sometimes. he can give you a good, hard fucking, but that doesn’t mean he’s a hard dom. he can also be a lot more gentle, and that doesn’t mean he’s a soft dom either. it’s hard to label him specifically, so i’ll leave beel as dom–leaning.
𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑  ➛  belphie as a sub is a dream. he is so whiny and bratty, just imagine how he moans....i just know he makes himself sound especially pathetic when he’s in his subby persona. he likes being slapped, he likes being brought to tears. but he’s a switch and as a dom, he loves to do those exact same things to you. he can be quite confusing as a dom because he is soft and slow in his movements, very rarely fucking you fast and hard. but it’s in his words and sadistic behaviour where his hard dom shines. so physically, he’s a soft dom. but mentally, he’s all up in his hard dom space. he’s also the type of dom that will demand sex whenever and wherever he needs it which definitely boosts his hard dom side. he’s so mean with his words but he’s caressing your face and wiping your tears at the same time. dom belphie to you is exactly how he wants you to be with him when he’s a sub.
𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐎  ➛  the demon lord is probably the biggest (or second biggest after mammon) switch in the entirety of obey me. he is a flip–flop in the making. he can bounce from one end of the spectrum to the other in an instant. his dom/sub dynamic is literally so dynamic that it gives you whiplash. with most switches, if they begin the session as a sub, they will most likely finish as a sub. but dia can switch during sex, going from dom to sub or vice versa. maybe even switching three or four times, depending on how long you go at it with him. he can go from hard to soft and soft to hard. he knows how to read the room, how to read you and because his mood is so changeable, you need to be able to read him too. sex with dia requires a whole lot of understanding and chemistry. if you don’t have it, the sex can be too confusing that it becomes unenjoyable. but if you do have it, then it will be the best sex you’ll ever have.
𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐒  ➛  he is another one that i rarely see as a sub, if at all. i don’t think barbatos has any strong sexual preferences or kinks in general. and while they do exist, sex just isn’t a huge ordeal to him. but during those times when he is excited to experiment with sex, he would be a dom. he can be a soft dom but i don’t think he’d be particularly good at it, mediocre at best. he would excel more as a hard dom. he’s the type of person who will have a dark and rough sexual side, but is wholly soft and affectionate outside of the bedroom. he’s a dom but if you wanted to be the dom, he wouldn’t mind acting as a sub — just know he wouldn’t enjoy is as much. but, he also wouldn’t mind having to compete with another dom until one of you submits; that would be fun.  
𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍  ➛  now this angel can confuse you at first but first impressions are always deceiving. dom/sub dynamics are not heavily implemented into his simeon’s sexual preferences but i must say, when they do come out, it is absolutely stellar. simeon is a dom, a soft dom most of the time but every now and then, he’ll show himself as a hard dom. it’s very rare but it’s the kind of thing that lingers in your brain for weeks after it happens. even if you beg him to give you that mean and nasty sex, he won’t do it unless he decides to, or when he feels the need to. but as a predominantly soft dom, he is sweet and caring, a little bit of a tease (read: a lot) who loves to test your limits but in a gentle way. he can be subby at times, but he prefers to guide the sex as a soft, gentle dom or have sex with no dom/sub dynamics over being the sub.
𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐌𝐎𝐍  ➛  i think he’s lived long enough to have a very aged libido. it’s hard for him to be excited about sex until you come along and it’s just like having sex for the first time. he’s discovering his sexual preferences, old and new, with you and he is steadily paced with his experimentation. i want to say he’s a switch but i also believe he doesn’t enjoy being a sub much. so he would definitely try being a sub, but will learn that he is more suited to the dominant role. he’s spent so long being powerful and almost uncontrollable, so being out of control upsets his personality. as a dom, he is quite balanced and i think he mostly relies on your preferences and moods. he finds it hard to decide for himself so if you want it hard, he’ll give it to you hard. and if you want it soft, he’ll give you all the love in the world.
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johannestevans · 4 months
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Where do I find the queer people?
Making friends and finding social & community spaces as an LGBTQ+ adult.
Originally published with Prism & Pen. Also on my Patreon.
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Photo by Brett Sayles via Pexels.
A friend and I recently went to a Queer Open Mic night after I saw it advertised on the same afternoon. While we were on the way back, she asked about how I’d found it.
“I just feel like you always know loads of queer events that are on,” she said, “and I don’t know how to begin to find them.”
I sat down with her a few weeks later and showed her some of the ways I find events, regular or otherwise, and where I look for others — especially given that on social media in the past few days I’ve seen a few people talking about the difficulty of finding and meeting with new queer people when not online.
I thought it might be useful to put it together here.
It’s quite hard with the pressure on and elimination of many third spaces to go out and easily meet people, and given that most of us use a lot of online socials and dating apps, it can feel difficult to seek out and engage with in-person spaces without knowing exactly what the protocol or format of the event is going to be.
Especially given that many people are still more isolated than they were before the start of the Covid pandemic, and/or struggle with seeking out events for themselves having finished school or university or other more structured environments, there can be a lot of anxiety about attending events or meeting new people. But it’s worth it to remember that pretty much everyone else is in a similar spot, and there’s nothing weird or unusual about wanting to make friends or have social time with others.
I am based in the North of England and generally go between the UK and Ireland. So this guide might be less useful depending on where you are. Obviously, in countries with more repressive legislation on queer identity, community groups will by definition be far more underground. Even in areas where this isn’t the case, some of these suggestions might be more viable than others depending on how densely populated your area is, how accessible different venues and events are, and how active your local queer communities are. So, just take what’s good for you and leave the rest.
Finding Local Queer Community Groups
In your search engine, put in simple search terms — [queer] [group] in [my area].
If you can, narrow your search to websites updated in the last 6 months to 2 or 3 years — you’ll sometimes find a website from six or seven years ago where the events haven’t been running for half that when you were already excited about it.
Search your town, city, or county first, and then widen your search — I normally initially look for Bradford and Leeds respectively, but then might broaden my search to West Yorkshire or even North England depending on the time of year and if I’m more willing to travel for certain events, e.g. looking up summer events around Pride, or specific holiday events if you’re looking at Halloween, Christmas, New Year’s, etc.
Combine:
“Queer”, “LGBT” or “LGBTQ”, “Trans”, “Gay Men’s”, “Lesbian”, “Transgender”, “Transsexual”, “Gay Rights” or similar terms
With:
“Charity”, “Support Group”, “Social Space”, “Community Space”, “Meetup”, “Society”, and similar terms
Swap around the terms and find what language seems to be used in your area — remember that depending on the age group and demographic you’re looking at or for, there might be terms you prefer.
I personally search for a lot of gay men’s groups because the average age tends to be a lot older and focused more on the experiences and social spaces of men who love men rather than general queer spaces, which I find can be a bit too young and fast-paced for my speed.
In general, I find that there’s a loose separation between younger trans and queer social groups, which tend to be a mix of differing identities and ages but with a big emphasis on young adults in the 18–25 area, and then specific gay men’s or lesbians’ groups, which will have a wider swathe of ages and might be a little bit less online.
I understand the fear some people have of these spaces being more transphobic than younger spaces — that’s not personally been my experience, as transphobia and lateral bigotry might happen in any social space, but unfortunately, you just don’t know the specifics of an event or a group until you get there and actually meet and talk to the people.
Some charities or community groups that run a variety of spaces might have specific age or identity guidance on group titles — some might be particularly for younger or older people, be for trans people more than cis people, and some might focus on particular sub-communities, such as BIPOC queer groups or specific religious or ethnic meetups, disabled queer groups, etc.
You also might find meetups that are centred around certain hobbies, professions, or interests — boardgames or Magic the Gathering, Doctor Who or fantasy novels, medical professionals or blacksmiths, etc, depending on how big the area you’re in is and how populous it is.
If you are already a member of an institution or society, whether that’s your school or university, your union, some workplaces, your temple or other religious institution, etc, you might find that there are already events running for you!
Finding Queer Events Online
There are almost certainly queer events on, and they’re probably advertised, but where do you find them?
What’s annoying about the Internet as it exists, corporate online spaces and otherwise, is that most events will be posted in one or two spaces out of hundreds. The good ones will sometimes be hard to find because there’s a bunch of shitty advertising in the way, and because individuals and small charity or community advertisers don’t necessarily know about things like search engine optimisation or how to make a good, searchable post. There will be really cool events that are advertised online, but just aren’t tagged or easy to find.
This means that it’s worth looking often but keeping it casual — glancing through the top page for events that might be coming up or meet some keywords, but if most of what you see is ads, just leave it and move on. Digging through for the good events in busy areas that are also ad-heavy can take ages and might not even turn up much.
If you find socials for local community groups or charities, even if they don’t run events themselves, they might regularly share other local events or cool ones, so it can be worth following them!
Ditto for other queer people in your community — follow local artists, performers, academics, creators, public speakers, craftspeople, or any local community leaders or public figures, and see if they share and boost local events.
They might boost special interest events that are of interest to you if you follow people who share certain communities or interests. If, for example, you have an interest in lolita fashion and follow queer lolita dressers in your area or in areas you can travel to, they might post events that are of interest to them and maybe to you — whether that means specific lolita events, other clothing and fashion events like gothic or steampunk markets and shows, or even anime cons or renaissance faires or whatever.
Obviously searching on social media can help — looking for keywords like “queer event” or “LGBT social” on one site or other can be especially good if it’s a site where you can localise your search results, such as Facebook or Instagram.
With that said, Facebook and Instagram are increasingly difficult sites to use given how much they’re overwhelmed by sponsored and corporate posts as well as spam and bot posts. So, it’s generally worth it more when you focus on either events in smaller and limited areas, such as small towns, or when you’re looking for crossing over of different areas of interest, such as particular queer hobbyist or interest groups. When you start looking for broader spectrum events in a busier or more populous area, you can get inundated by spam and copy-and-paste duplicate ads that have all been promoted. But it’s still worth it to have a glance and see if anything is up at the top!
Sites and apps like Eventbrite or TicketSource, or equivalents in your area, will often let you search for specific events . As with social media, these sites can have the same problem of sponsored events coming up first, and annoyingly you can’t block particular event providers or organisers to make sure they don’t show in your search results if they’re not your thing.
Use every option that comes up and see if you can cross search where you can — pick a particular location or area, click on free or paid events, pick events at certain times, pick a certain kind of event, add in tags like LGBTQ or similar if it’s a site that allows it, etc.
If an event comes up that you like the idea of, note it down, then look the organizer up on social media and see if they run or share other events.
Looking for local tourism sites will let you search for other local events as well — especially if you live in a city or regularly visit one, they’ll often have a What’s On page or a Visit [Blank] website or equivalent, and you can search through that — most of them will have cultural events or a specific LGBTQ section you can glance through.
Here’s the Visit Bristol site, for example:
What’s On in Bristol — VisitBristol.co.uk Click here to find out What’s On in Bristol!…Get the latest information on the latest Events, Festivals, Carnivals…visitbristol.co.uk
For obvious reasons, sites like most of the above will focus on paid events, especially evening and party events. Pub quizzes, drag events, bingo nights, balls, drinks offers, parties, etc.
These events aren’t for everybody — and if they’re not for you, focus on events that take place, if not in cafés and restaurants, then in libraries, universities, museums, and other public buildings.
Queer Events Locally Advertised In-Person
Wait, do people still do that?
Look for poster and notice boards in:
Libraries, museums, community centres, university lobbies
Vintage and alternative clothes stores, music venues, etc
Your temple, church, or other religious institutions
Gay bars, queer cafés, LGBTQ centres, queer bookshops
Doctor’s offices, GUM clinics, and sexual health clinics
Anywhere else you see a noticeboard with events showing!
Also look on flag poles or in windows around your local gay bars or businesses if you have any, generally around the gay village if there’s one to go through.
How do you know the events are good? How do you know they’re legit?
How old does the poster look? Do you see many copies of it around?
Look for dates for the event(s) they’re advertising on the poster, and then look up the venue the events are meant to happen at. Do the dates match? Is it a regular event? Is the event showing on the venue’s website or social media?
Is the event run by a local group, collective, or charity? When you search them, do they have socials or a site of their own? Do they seem active?
If a local queer poster gives you socials, check those socials out — do they have any followers you’re familiar with? Do they post their venues publicly and have defined and public meeting times? Do they seem to have active and engaged commenters? Is there a face or faces behind the social media, or are they anonymous?
If an event is run by anonymous people, or if it seems like they don’t have many followers on social media or very active ones, that might be a bit more suspicious — ditto if an event just gives you a phone number but not any further identifying info.
It’s not inherently suspicious for a queer event to be at an undisclosed location, because of course people do want to ensure some safeguarding and vet people before they come, but if it’s an undisclosed location in combination with anonymous organising, that might be a bit suspicious, and should probably be avoided.
Finding Queer People in Specific Hobby or Other Community Spaces
You don’t have to go to queer-specific events to meet other queer people — any hobby or community you can think of, there’s probably queer people in attendance.
If you’re in a busier or more populous area, say there are 5 events that centre around the same hobby — of those 5, some of them will have more queer people than others, and it might be worth checking them out just to see if you click with anyone there.
My partner and I attend queer-specific board-game evenings that are run out of gay bars or by queer clubs, but pretty much any board-game night is likely to have one or two queer people knocking about, whether they know or would identify themselves as LGBTQ+ off the bat or not.
While there are obviously more open queer people at the queer events, I would say that when we went to a local board-game night run by older straight guys, about a quarter of the attendees were older queer people.
Of my queer friends, pretty much all of them have varied interests and attend different groups or clubs with a lot of other queers knocking about without them being labelled or explicitly queer events — knitting and crocheting, computer coding, electronic music and DJing, fandom, blacksmithing, glassblowing, stand-up comedy, improv, cooking, gardening, board games, cosplay and historical costuming, LEGO, live-action roleplay, tabletop roleplaying games, Magic the Gathering, Yu-Gi-Oh, and other trading card games, poker, burlesque, sports games and clubs, swimming, cycling, fishing, photography, book clubs, bug collecting, birdwatching, weaving, painting, sculpture, pottery, video games, singing, songwriting, poetry…
The list goes on.
Hell, half the people I know seem to go and meet new dates at the local climbing wall, where it seems like all the lesbians and gay guys are crawling all over one another. Another friend of mine attends their local WI, and have met other queer people there.
Other Tips
Remember you can meet people on dating and hook-up apps and that doesn’t necessarily have to be for sex and relationships, whether that’s Grindr, Her, Lex, etc — or you can ask hook-ups and casual dates where they go or if there are local events they think are good or fun. Poly people are particularly useful for this, because they’ll often have a whole network of regular events crossing over and diverging.
If you’re nervous about going to an event alone and you don’t have anybody to go with you, it can be worth checking it out on socials first and see if you have any mutual friends with people that are going — if not, it’s worth heading along anyway, because people might well speak to you before you have to open the conversation with them.
Community groups will often have icebreakers or sessions where people swap names, pronouns, and basic introductions, and that can ease the way into getting used to the space.
If you see somebody else on their own who seems nervous to talk to people, they can be good to approach and say, hey, I also don’t know anyone here, what brings you here? And so on. Remember, other people are pretty much always in the same boat as you.
For me, one of the biggest anxieties about going to new events alone is the fact that I’m disabled and dependent on public transport, and that combo can make it tough on me if I get to a place and it’s inaccessible or just not my speed, and then I have to sort of immediately turn heel and leave, but wait ages for a bus in the meantime. I’ve missed more than one event I was really excited about just because transport didn’t line up for me.
Some considerations to keep in mind when you look for events:
Is the event free or paid? Is this clearly marked? Do you need to buy tickets in advance?
How recent is the posting about the event? Is it posted on a web page or a social media page? Are there recent comments or engagement on the entry? If there is a contact for the event, is it active and responsive?
Is this event regular or recurrent? Is it for a special occasion, and does it have sister events or concurrent events?
Is the event exclusively online, exclusively in-person, or do they change between the two formats? Would you prefer to attend online before you attend in-person?
Do you want to go to a closed and more private group — for example, one that has you message them for the time and location, seems to have capped attendee limits, seems to have a regular community. Or do you want to attend a more casual event in a larger, open space where people might not notice as much as you come and go? Is it going to be very crowded or more spaced out?
Where is the event located, and will you be comfortable in that venue? Is it in a community building such as a charity space, community group, religious institute, school, or university? Is it in a café, restaurant, pub, bar, club, or late-night venue? Is it an explicitly or dedicated queer space? If you are not out to other members of your community, will going into this space reveal that you might be a member of a queer group?
Is the venue age-restricted, and will it require ID? If you must provide ID, will providing your ID in a dead name or in a different gender presentation to your current one be anxiety-inducing or a potential problem for you?
How accessible is the venue to you? Is it walkable, on a regular bus route, or does it have appropriate parking for you? Does it have ramps or elevators? Is it well-ventilated, and does it have a HVAC or other air filtration and purification protocol? Is masking enforced, and/or are masks provided? If you might be watching something together, is there a hearing loop, will there be subtitles on a screening? Is there a first aider at the event? Does the venue serve food or drink, or provide refreshments?
If you are attending alone and have specific needs or requirements, or might need to leave abruptly, is there someone you can let know at the event, such as a first aider or community leader? Are there regular buses, a taxi rank, or online taxi access if you need to quickly head home? Have you let someone else know where you are going, just as a safety concern?
Is the event activity-based, or is it a space where people just sit and talk? Would one or the other of these feel more natural or comfortable to you? Do you have to bring your own activity, such as with a craft or knitting circle, or are supplies provided, such as boardgames or a screening?
Does the group or host for the event(s) have social media? Do they advertise the regular events on socials, or have a newsletter, or some other helpful reminder system?
Most community events will be free, but if it’s an activity group or society, or if it’s a private event, especially one where they buy equipment or supplies, there might be an up-front ticket or access fee, a membership fee or a collection jar or similar — most events will tell you in advance if there is a fee or if they might request a donation.
Most importantly, like… Have fun.
If it sucks, hit the bricks — there’s no obligation to stay anywhere if it’s not fun or doesn’t satisfy you in the way you were hoping.
There’s always other events out there, and you’re very unlikely to truly be the only gay in the village, even if it sometimes feels that way. Good luck!
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asbealthgn · 1 year
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(part one here)
Steve drives over the Munson trailer first thing in the morning after spending the night at Robin’s. He feels a little bad since he knows that Eddie doesn’t like getting up early, but Steve’s pretty desperate to talk to him. Now that he knows he has feelings for Eddie, he doesn’t want to waste a second.
Wayne’s truck is parked outside the trailer, meaning he’s home from work, but he’s probably in bed by now. All the same, Steve goes around to Eddie’s window instead of the door. He kicks a crate over to stand on to reach the glass and raps his knuckles against it. After maybe thirty seconds, Steve hears motion inside and sees Eddie appear at the window. Steve can’t quite figure out what his expression is—some mix of apprehension and embarrassment and hope.
Eddie slides open the window. “What do you want, Harrington?” he asks. 
“Can we talk?” Steve asks. Eddie stares back at him for a long moment.
“What about?”
Steve curls his hand around the window sill. “C’mon, you know what about.”
Eddie is silent for a long moment before shaking his head. “Can we just forget it ever happened?” he asks, “Pretend you never heard anything?”
“Eds, please,” Steve says, ready to start begging. “Will you just let me in? Or come out here so we can talk?”
He’s afraid Eddie’s going to shut the window. The way he’s eyeing it is definitely concerning, so Steve puts his other hand on the window sill as a deterrent. Eddie looks down at his hands and then sighs. 
“Meet me out front on the couch,” he says. He backs away from the window and disappears to where Steve can’t see him. This is progress though. 
Steve makes his way back around the trailer. He skips up the porch steps and settles in on the couch. A few seconds later, Eddie emerges wearing a hoodie, his hands inside his sleeves and arms crossed. It’s a little cold out here, but not freezing. Steve thinks it’s more a defense mechanism than a response to the temperature. Eddie sits down on the couch, leaving a couple feet between them. 
“Eddie—” Steve starts.
“Listen, I’m really sorry,” Eddie says, squeezing his arms tighter around himself. “I didn’t mean for you to hear that.”
“It’s okay, I—”
“I get it if you don’t want to be friends anymore, seriously,” Eddie says, “I know I made things weird—”
“—no, Eddie—”
“—but I do really want to be friends with you,” Eddie says, plowing over Steve. “Our friendship means so much to me, and I don’t want to do anything to fuck it up.”
“Eddie—”
“So please, please just pretend like I never said anything. I can get over it, I can—”
“—Eddie, will you please—”
“—I get that you’re straight, I know nothing will happen between us, I don’t want to ruin—”
Clearly this approach is not working. If Eddie isn’t going to let Steve get a word in edgewise then he’ll just have to resort to more drastic measures. And maybe this is really stupid, but it’s honestly the only thing Steve can think of to shut him up and get his point across at the same time.
He grabs Eddie’s face in both hands and kisses him.
If Steve still had any doubts about his feelings for Eddie, then this puts them to rest. He feels warmth spread out from his belly through the rest of his body. God, he likes kissing Eddie. It takes a few seconds for his brain to catch up and realize that Eddie is completely frozen against him. 
He pulls back. Eddie’s eyes are wide, mouth falling open. The seconds stretch without a response, so Steve speaks. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he says, brushing his thumbs lightly over Eddie’s cheeks. “And I don’t want to forget what you said. It’s what made me realize that I have feelings for you.”
That finally gets a reaction out of Eddie, a series of quick blinks. “You…have feelings for me?” Eddie asks, voice almost inaudible.
Steve nods. “I do,” he says, “I really do.”
“Kiss me again,” Eddie whispers. 
So Steve does, leaning forward and pressing his lips back to Eddie’s. This time, Eddie kisses him back, and fuck. This is everything Steve could have hoped for and somehow so much more. It’s only been about seven hours since he figured out he likes Eddie and he already doesn’t know how he’s lived his whole life without kissing him. He doesn’t know how he’s ever going to stop.
“Steve,” Eddie murmurs, pulling back slightly. Steve can’t quite hold back the whine that starts in the back of his throat, which makes Eddie smile. “We should go inside,” he says, glancing around. It’s not like there’s anyone else out here, but they’re still pretty exposed. 
Steve gets up and follows Eddie inside. As soon as the door shuts behind them, Steve grabs Eddie again and pushes him up against it, kissing him. Eddie starts to say his name, but Steve swallows the sound, desperate to never let go of Eddie again. 
From the direction of the kitchen, there's the sound of a throat clearing. 
Jerking back, Steve looks over and sees Wayne standing by the counter, eyebrows raised over the edge of his Garfield mug. His eyes are sparkling. 
“Mornin’, Steve.”
tagging: @bisexualdisastersworld @cr0w-culture @axl-is-online @awkotaco24 @justforthedead89 @bumblemyrtle @justmiiriam @brassreign @beautifulphantomstarlight @croatoan-like-its-hot @cosmicanamnesis
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winters-dream · 2 months
Text
“You don't have to do this.”
Villain paused mid-speech—mid-stride—and glanced at the hero. Tied up in the corner of Villain’s lair, Hero watched as Villain had gone on a rather long and boastful speech about their plans for the city. Now that they had Hero captured, nothing stood in Villain’s way. They could set the city on fire if they so wished. Hero would be helpless.
They stood in front of the hero, a smirk wearing at their lips as they stared them down. “Of course I do. I want to run this city and now I can.”
Hero shook their head. “No. I meant this,” they said, gesturing towards themself as best as they could with their hands tied behind their back. “These grand gestures, the holding me hostage, the big talk. I can tell it’s mostly just big talk.”
Villain’s smirk faltered slightly. “It’s not just big talk.”
“But it is,” countered Hero. “I’ve been at this a long time. I know a tough facade when I see one. You’re trying to be impressive. To impress me.”
Villain scoffed and turned their head away, shame bubbling deep within their chest. They’d be lying if they said a great bit of this was theatrics to come off as impressive. They did want to be spoken of in high regard. But that didn’t have anything to do with the hero . . . 
Or at least that’s what they told themself.
“You think you have it all figured out?” asked Villain as they struggled to fight the blush that threatened to color their face and neck. The hero’s giggle made Villian look back at them. They expected mockery for being so painfully obvious, ridiculed for catching feelings for the enemy and wanting to impress them. Shame began to kick in tenfold, unwilling to look their nemesis in the eye. 
But what they saw was the opposite. They were greeted with warmth and admiration instead.
“I do,” Hero stated simply. “I’ve noticed the way you glance at me when you think I’m not looking, Like you’re searching for my admiration.”
Villain’s mouth went dry as they let out an audible gulp. 
“But you don't have to do all of this,” Hero continued. “I already think you're amazing.” 
“You do,” Villain asked mutely. It came out as more of a statement. 
Hero nodded. “Of course. I’ve been watching you through our years of being enemies. And I’ve grown fond of the person you’ve become.”
Villain had to look away from the hero; they couldn’t stand the look in their eyes. The same big adoring eyes they gazed at Villain with so many times now. They remembered the first time they noticed that look. The first time Hero and Villain set their work aside and held a real conversation together. Villain had allowed Hero to perceive them as a human being instead of the villain persona they usually wore around them. And vice versa.
Villain liked to think that’s when their initial crush on Hero had solidified. 
“Villain, come here,” beckoned Hero. And Villain listened without a second thought, kneeling before Hero so they were eye to eye. Villain had their eyes cast down to the ground, Hero’s sweet gaze too intimidating to face.
“You don’t love me,” Villain blurted. “You love the idea of me. How smart I am with a computer. My powers, how you could probably use them to overthrow SuperVillain if I switched sides or something. Or how—”
Something landing on his wrist interrupted his speech; Hero’s hand. Hero had managed to undo their own binds. Villain finally met Hero’s eyes, finding that same affection now mixed with a somberness Villain couldn’t quite place.
“Stop measuring your value based on the things you can do for other people,” said Hero. “You’re more than that, and I see it. You don’t need to convince me to love you.”
Villain let out a long breath, tension leaving their shoulders as well. They almost allowed themself to feel relief, a small hint of a smile making way to their lips. 
“You love me,” they said. 
They received a nod in response, and Villain leaned forward. Their forehead found purchase on Hero’s shoulder as Hero held them tightly yet gently. Their hold radiated a warmth that filled a piece of Villain they never knew was missing until now. They allowed themself to relax in Hero’s embrace and feel for the first time, the warmth of real love.
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nxiispire · 1 year
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Hello hello!
Could I request a sub!kaeya, sub!diluc, sub!venti, and a sub!xiao (separately pls) with a gentle dom! reader who degrades them will in the verge of their release please? Have a good morning/day/evening/night!<3
|・ω・`)ノ a/n : super sorry for taking so long to do this request! also i’m vry excited someone asked for venti cause i haven’t written for him even though he is a fave of mine
✰ Don’t be mean .. !
[ Featuring ] -> Kaeya, Diluc, Venti and Xiao x Reader
cw : f1ngering, degradation, use of slut and wh0re, h*ndjobs, thigh job, after care, a tiny bit of fluff
Kaeya Alberich
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He whines
Pouts afterwards but both of you know that your degrading words only go straight to his c*ck
He’s a bit surprised to here such words come from you, a normally very gentle lover.
But he’s even more surprised at how much he enjoyed being called such dirty names.
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Kaeya doesn’t exactly know how he got here, bent over his office desk, drool staining unimportant documents, and your fingers inside him. But he couldn’t care less about what caused this turn of events, his only focus being the heat rising in his lower half.
Feeling him squeeze around your fingers, a sign that he was close, you lean down to press your chest flush against his back, your hot breath tickling his ear as you whispered.
“Squeezing me so tight yeah? such a slut, how’d you think master jean would feel if she knew her captain was such a whore?”
Letting out a high pitched whine while mumbling something about being your slut, he came all over the hard wood desk.
Let’s just say having to explain the missing documents was not apart of your regular after care routine.
Diluc Ragnvindr
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This man will straight up defend himself 😭😭
He would be like “i’ve been a good boy!” or “m’not a slut” while letting out the sluttiest moans
But despite the protest he quite enjoys the change in language
The poor man just needs some self preservation
“ n-no! v’been good, need to ah- need to cum~”
He begged as you teased him while on the verge of release. You could hear the wet sounds coming from your stroking his cock with vigour.
“hmm I don’t know, do you really deserve to cum?” You further egged him on, no real intention to deny his orgasm.
“yes yesyesyes-YESS” he answered for you, finally cumming all over you hand.
Despite cumming without your explicit permission, you still treated Diluc with tender love and care as he bathed in the aftmath of his orgasm.
“You were so good for me” you assured him he did in fact deserve every bit of your affection.
Venti
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For someone meant to be worshipped, he sure loves being talked down to
Though he loves your praise, it’s nothing he hasn’t heard already
So hearing you call him nasty names is  exciting, he wants nothing more than to be beneath you
Also there’s no way such a mischievous man doesn’t have a thing for degradation, he’s practically asking for it
He’s grabbing on to your hips insanely tight as he frantically thrust himself between your soft thighs. As he presses his face into your back you can feel the vibrations of all the moans he’s letting out.
His cock slides effortlessly between your thighs aided by a mixture of your spit, and a abnormal amount of pre-cum.
“ahh mhh yess i’m close~” you hear his muffled whines from behind you.
“your such dirty boy aren’t you? it’s almost pathetic, humping my thighs like this?”.
Though your words harsh, your tone remained soft and caring, which almost made it more patronising.
 Fueled on by your words he finally came, his cum mixing into the wet pool between your legs as he continues to thrust himself through his orgasm. <3
Xiao
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Unlike Diluc he accept anything you say
You called him a bad boy? he will make it up to you and beg for your forgiveness, You called him a slut? then he’s your whore
Why would he care about self preservation when you’re the only one he wants to please
It’s something about the control you assert when you degrade him that gets him going
The way he’s fucking up into your hand is mesmerising, his abs flexing as he desperately chases after his high
“Look how desperate you are, who knew that this mighty adepti was such a slut~”
“Aah yes, mm your slut~ shit- just f’you!” He babbled, getting closer and closer to his orgasm. You weren’t even moving your hand at this point, you simply kept it still as he bucked up into it, producing a lewd squelching noise.
He let out one last loud moan as he came, his cum landing on his chest and dribbling down your hand.
After riding his high the adeptus did something he hadn’t done in a very long time, falling straight to sleep.
Once you finished admiring his adorable fucked out form, you make sure to grab a warm towel to clean up, loving being able to take care of him without any of his protests.
the end _(:3 」∠)_
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rebeccathenaturalist · 10 months
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An App Does Not a Master Naturalist Make
Originally posted on my website at https://rebeccalexa.com/app-not-master-naturalist/ - I had written this as an op-ed and sent it to WaPo, but they had no interest, so you get to read it here instead!
I have mixed feelings about Michael Coren’s April 25 Washington Post article, “These 4 free apps can help you identify every flower, plant and tree around you.” His ebullience at exploring some of the diverse ecological community around him made me grin, because I know exactly what it feels like. There’s nothing like that sense of wonder and belonging when you go outside and are surrounded by neighbors of many species, instead of a monotonous wall of green, and that is a big part of what led me to become a Master Naturalist.
When I moved from the Midwest to the Pacific Northwest in 2006, I felt lost because I didn’t recognize many of the animals or plants in my new home. So I set about systematically learning every species that crossed my path. Later, I began teaching community-level classes on nature identification to help other people learn skills and tools for exploring their local flora, fauna, and fungi.
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Threeleaf foamflower (Tiarella trifoliata)
Let me be clear: I love apps. I use Merlin routinely to identify unknown bird songs, and iNaturalist is my absolute favorite ID app, period. But these tools are not 100% flawless.
For one thing, they’re only as good as the data you provide them. iNaturalist’s algorithms, for example, rely on a combination of photos (visual data), date and time (seasonal data), and GPS coordinates (location data) to make initial identification suggestions. These algorithms sift through the 135-million-plus observations uploaded to date, finding observations that have similar visual, seasonal, and location data to yours.
There have been many times over the years where iNaturalist isn’t so sure. Take this photo of a rather nondescript clump of grass. Without seed heads to provide extra clues, the algorithms offer an unrelated assortment of species, with only one grass. I’ve gotten that “We’re not confident enough to make a recommendation” message countless times over my years of using the app, often suggesting species that are clearly not what I’m looking at in real life.
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Because iNaturalist usually offers up multiple options, you have to decide which one is the best fit. Sometimes it’s the first species listed, but sometimes it’s not. This becomes trickier if all the species that are suggested look alike. Tree-of-Heaven (Ailanthus altissima), smooth sumac (Rhus glabra) and eastern black walnut (Juglans nigra) all have pinnately compound, lanceolate leaves, and young plants of these three species can appear quite similar. If all you know how to do is point and click your phone’s camera, you aren’t going to be able to confidently choose which of the three plants is the right one.
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Coren correctly points out that both iNaturalist and Pl@ntNet do offer more information on suggested species—if people are willing to take the time to look. Too many assume ID apps will give an easy, instant answer. In watching my students use the app in person almost everyone just picks the first species in the list. It’s not until I demonstrate how to access the additional content for each species offered that anyone thinks to question the algorithms’ suggestions.
While iNaturalist is one of the tools I incorporate into my classes, I emphasize that apps in general are not to be used alone, but in conjunction with field guides, websites, and other resources. Nature identification, even on a casual level, requires critical thinking and observation skills if you want to make sure you’re correct. Coren’s assertion that you only need a few apps demonstrates a misunderstanding of a skill that takes time and practice to develop properly—and accurately.
Speaking of oversimplification, apps are not a Master Naturalist in your pocket, and that statement —while meant as a compliment–does a disservice to the thousands of Master Naturalists across the country. While the training curricula vary from state to state, they are generally based in learning how organisms interact within habitats and ecosystems, often drawing on a synthesis of biology, geology, hydrology, climatology, and other natural sciences. A Master Naturalist could tell you not only what species you’re looking at, but how it fits into this ecosystem, how its adaptations are different from a related species in another ecoregion, and so forth.
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Map showing Level III and IV ecoregions of Oregon, the basis of my training as an Oregon Master Naturalist.
In spite of my criticisms, I do think that Coren was absolutely onto something when he described the effects of using the apps. Seeing the landscape around you turn from a green background to a vibrant community of living beings makes going outside a more exciting, personal experience. I and my fellow nature nerds share an intense curiosity about the world around us. And that passion, more than any app or other tool, is fundamental to becoming a citizen naturalist, Master or otherwise.
Did you enjoy this post? Consider taking one of my online foraging and natural history classes or hiring me for a guided nature tour, checking out my other articles, or picking up a paperback or ebook I’ve written! You can even buy me a coffee here!
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gentle-forest-daddy · 9 months
Text
The Tantrum (Part 3)
A three-part ABDL romance. All characters are 18+. CW: Diapers, Spanking, Bondage, Messing, Wetting
(Part 1) (Part 2)
Katelyn’s eyes popped open as Ryan buckled her into the chair, tied down her mittens again and locked a tray across her lap. She took in the kitchen, the two steaming plates on the table, and how much higher off the ground she was than their normal chairs. They’d talked about a highchair, but she didn’t know Ryan had actually gotten one.
Her pacifier still filled her mouth, but she managed a frustrate whine that she hoped said What about my diaper?
Like he could understand her toddler sounds, which maybe he did, Ryan replied “Your supper is going to get cold and yucky if we wait, so daddy will change you after you’re done eating.”
Katelyn felt the tears coming back and did nothing to hide them. Her mess was starting to cool and the high chair had squished it around even more.
“Shhhh, you’re okay baby,” Ryan said, running a hand through her hair. “I promise I’ll get you all cleaned up as soon as you’ve had some supper. I need you to be my good girl, okay? Do you trust me?”
Katelyn looked up at him through her teary eyes. She did trust him, and she desperately wanted to be a good girl.
“Besides, I’m sure you must be getting pretty hungry.”
Her tummy picked that moment to growl in agreement, making Katelyn giggle along with Ryan, in spite of her stinky situation.
“Alright, I’m going to take your paci out,” Ryan said, reaching behind her head for the buckle.
The absence of the soothing bulb was strange. Without thinking, she tried to bring her thumb up to her mouth, only to be stopped by the rope keeping her hands in her lap.
Ryan set a plate down on the highchair’s tray, and for moment, Katelyn smiled at the sight of her favourite pad thai. Then she noticed all the greens and other veggies tangled in the noodles, way more than she would ever go for. Not to mention bits of orange carrot.
Katelyn was trying to be on her best behaviour, but she couldn’t help kicking legs and wrinkling her nose at a perfectly good meal ruined in the name of health. She looked up at Ryan, who met her pout with a stern look.
“I promise it’s gonna be the best pad thai you’ve ever tasted,” he said, getting a forkful ready.
A mean comment came to mind, one she might have actually said a few hours ago with a glass wine behind her, but Katelyn banished it, even if she couldn’t quite wipe the pout off her face.
“Alright, open wide for daddy.”
Katelyn opened her mouth the bare minimum required, bracing for a disgusting carrot-y taste, but instead perking up as soon as the food hit her tongue.
She couldn’t help the “Mmmmm!” that escaped as the sweet, salty, nutty flavour mixed with a pleasant crunch in her mouth.
“Does Katie approve?” Ryan said, a satisfied smile on his face.
“Mmm hmm!” Katelyn beamed, crankiness melting away with good food in her belly.
It took no time at all to clean her plate, Katelyn opening her mouth extra wide in hopes of getting bigger bites, both of them laughing when the occasional noodle landed on her chest.
Ryan untied her mittens but left them on before taking her plate away and heading over to the fridge. He came back with a baby bottle full of water, which Katelyn was more than happy to drink after the salty meal.
He was still busy with the dishes by the time the water was gone, and she kicked her legs again with a whine.
“Daaaaddy.”
Ryan looked over at her, failing to hold back a grin at the sight of his adorable fiance sitting in her high chair. “What is it princess?”
The words felt too big, too embarrassing, so Katelyn just whined again and pointed at her diaper.
“Ah, I almost forgot someone needs a change,” Ryan said, taking some pleasure in the blush appearing on her face. “I guess the dishes can wait, there’s a bigger mess that needs taking care of.”
At that comment, Katelyn hid behind her mittens.
She heard Ryan disappear for a moment, then there he was, freeing her from the highchair and untying the rest of the rope still wound around her. As soon as he was done, she had her hands raised up towards him, ready to carried away, and Ryan happily obliged.
Still a little suspicious, Katelyn kept her eyes open this time, but was relieved when Ryan brought her back to the bathroom and carefully set her down a towel waiting on the floor. She laid back, as much to take some weight off her sore messy butt as it was to speed up the process, and wished again she had her paci back.
Ryan fiddled with the tub beside her and the room filled with the sound of rushing water, making Katelyn happy wiggle at the thought of a hot bath.
“Alright stinky girl, let’s get you cleaned up,” Ryan teased.
Katelyn covered her face again as he reached for the tapes, suddenly not feeling so wiggly. As the last tape came off, she tensed, bracing for the disgusted scoff or maybe some gagging.
But even as the smell washed over her, all she heard was Ryan’s sing-songy voice tell her what a big mess she’d made. Her was face still rosy with embarrassment, but there was also a little smile as Ryan told her what a good girl she was and gently wiped her bottom. Before long, Katelyn felt clean and fresh, more than she thought possible without a shower.
After throwing out her well-used diaper, Ryan guided Katelyn’s hands away from her face and took off the mittens, the fresh air feeling good on her skin. Still feeling shy, she let Ryan help her to her feet and held his hand as she stepped into the tub.
The heat was heavenly and she sank down into it with a sigh. Katelyn let her eyes close for a moment, taking it in, when she heard a splash.
In front of her floated a yellow rubber ducky, and she felt herself gasp in delight. She hadn’t had a rubber ducky since she’d been young enough to watch Ernie sing about his friend on Sesame Street, but more than once during an after-work soak she’d thought about how unfair it was that adults couldn’t have company in the bath.
Ryan chuckled as she looked up at him with a huge smile.
“Do you like it?”
Katelyn made a big nod, holding her ducky snug against her cheek.
While Katelyn played with her duck, declaring him Herald, Ryan grabbed a wash cloth and scrubbed her down and washed her hair, stopping briefly to swap the thumb that made its way into her mouth for a fresh pacifier.
She wasn’t ready to be done playing when Ryan pulled the plug, but he let her hold on to Herald while he dried her off with a fluffy towel.
Soon she found herself bundled back in Ryan’s arms as he carried her to the bedroom, where a fresh diaper was waiting for her on the bed. This time she watched Ryan work, lifting her legs and sliding her new diaper under her, rubbing in the too-cold cream and top it off with a healthy amount of baby powder.
The crinkly bulk felt different this time. It felt like safety. It felt like love.
Katelyn sat up, her pacifier bobbing slightly between her lips. Words were still the realm of big girl Katelyn, so she just held her arms up again at Ryan.
“Someone’s really liking being picked up, huh?” he said, laughing.
He bent down and pulled something out from under the bed.
“Let’s get this on you first, baby.”
He held up a simple pink onesie with “Daddy’s Girl” written in a heart across the front, and Katelyn giggled at the sight of it and raised her arms again.
With his fiance properly dressed, Ryan scooped her up again, and Katelyn lost herself in the feeling of being held. She was too tired for thought, too tired for all of the day’s emotions. This was cozy oblivion, better than any she’d found in a bottle of wine.
She was vaguely aware of Ryan carrying her through the house. Soon she felt him sit down, shifting her onto his lap, her arms and legs still wrapped around his body, her head resting on his shoulder. Katelyn relaxed deeper into the embrace, all tension escaping in one big sigh, not giving it a second thought when she let her bladder go too. Her diaper grew warmer, something she knew she ought to feel ashamed of, but that wasn’t possible when she was daddy’s girl.
******
Katelyn wasn’t sure how long she slept, but the patch of drool on Ryan’s shoulder told her it must have been a while.
It was dark, the sun’s light long gone and replaced with the cool white of streetlights shining through their living room windows, casting ominous shadows on the floor. Katelyn had been scared of the dark for a long time. Meeting Ryan had pushed her to put on a brave face, but she still hated being the last one up, always running to the bedroom after turning out the last light.
She listened to his steady breathing. She didn’t like those shadows, but she felt safe in his arms.
The urge to pee was back and Katelyn did her best to just let go, but found it harder to relax this time around. At some point in her sleep she’d lost her pacifier, so she brought her thumb to mouth instead and focused on her breathing. Eventually she felt a slow stream start to trickle out, her diaper swelling again as fresh warmth spread around her bottom.
She couldn’t help squirming a little, and she felt Ryan reach up and pet her hair, her instant relax button. His other hand patted her bottom and she squirmed a bit more, realizing how obvious her pottying had been.
“Did you have a good nap, princess?”
Katelyn nodded against his shoulder and hummed in reply.
Ryan stretched and yawned before reaching over to turn on a lamp. They both blinked at the sudden light, but instead of brightening the mood, Katelyn felt Ryan tense. Her diaper squished as he sat her up on his lap. He had his serious face on.
“I’ve been thinking … we need to talk about what happened today. What’s been happening a lot of days.”
Katelyn’s stomach dropped, the soothing cocoon of littleness receding and a tide of guilt rushing into its place. She nodded, her thumb making its way back to her mouth, only this time just to chew the nail.
Ryan looked around the room, like he always did whenever he was thinking about what to say. Katelyn kept her own eyes on buttons of his shirt, shifting in her soggy diaper. After a minute, he took her hands, and Katelyn met his tired gaze with her own anxious one.
“Today wasn’t the first tantrum. But today was the first time I felt like you were really losing control.”
Katelyn nodded, her eyes glued to his buttons again, blinking hard.
“I don’t need to tell you the wine has become a problem. But honestly, it’s not the drinking that bothers me most.” The sadness in his voice made Katelyn shrink inside.
“We don’t talk anymore. We don’t hug anymore. It’s probably been a year since you kissed me goodbye in the morning. Then every day, you come home miserable and cranky, and even though it’s obvious your job is eating you alive, you won’t talk to me about it.”
He squeezed her hands but Katelyn kept her eyes down, her jaw clamped shut, trying stop her lip from quivering.
“I want to help, Katie. More than anything, I want to be there for you, like always. But I can’t when you’d rather drink than talk to me.”
Katelyn tried to speak, but her voice caught in throat. She took a deep breath and tried again, giving up on stopping the tears rolling down her cheeks.
“I’m s-so s-sorry,” she managed before the sobbing took over.
Ryan pulled her in and she cried into his shoulder, adding more moisture to the drool patch.
“I lost the Henderson account,” she said through tears.
“That file was w-why I got promoted. It was e-everything. I worked so hard for that job! I’ve been losing hair! And I fucked it up.”
Katelyn lost herself in sobs again, months of stress pouring out of her.
“I know I’ve been horrible. It’s been so overwhelming. When I get home I just want to forget my day.”
She pulled back to look Ryan in the face. Her damn lip wouldn’t stop quivering.
“But it’s not okay. And I’m really really sorry.”
Ryan cupped her face, and she closed her eyes as his thumbs wiped away the tear streaks.
“Apology accepted. But you’re right, it’s not okay, and things need to change.”
Katelyn nodded, sniffling, but finally feeling back in control of herself.
“The obvious thing is no more wine. It’s become too big a part of your life.”
It hurt to admit how much the thought of no alcohol scared her, but she focused on the love in Ryan’s eyes and nodded again.
“But more importantly, you need to start talking to me about these things, no matter how much you want to avoid it. And if not me, then somebody. Can you promise me that?”
That one was a lot easier. “I promise, Ryan.”
He hesitated before the next part, looking for his words again.
“The last thing is, I want you to seriously think about if this job is worth all the misery. There’s no question you earned that promotion, but it’s been buckets of stress since day one. I’ve got lots of work in my calendar for the next six months, so we won’t be hurting for money. You could take some time off, rest, and find something that makes you happy.”
It was Katelyn’s turn to search for words. Even on her hardest days, quitting had never felt like it was on the table.
“I … will think about it.”
Ryan nodded. “That’s all I ask.”
It was a lot to take in, but relief hit Katelyn all the same, and she hugged her fiance. She’d been braced for so much worse.
“I love you. And I promise I’m serious about this. No more tantrums. No more acting like a toddler.”
He hugged her back, crushing her in its fierceness, something she realized how much she’d missed.
“Well, funny you say that, there is one more thing I wanted to talk about.”
She pulled back, her eyebrows puzzling together at Ryan’s sudden shyness. He started tapping the armrest, laughing a bit at his own awkwardness.
“I actually really enjoyed babying you today. I know we always talked about doing a scene like this, but I hadn’t expected it to be so …”
He paused, searching for the word.
“Fulfilling? Loving? Intimate? All of the above? I just know I haven’t felt this close to you in a long time.”
Katelyn smiled at her fiance. She knew exactly what he meant.
“I know this is out of nowhere, but while you were napping, all I could think about was how much I wish we could do this every day. Us going to work, having normal adult lives, but you’re always daddy’s girl and daddy’s always there to take care of you.”
The idea took her by surprise, but what surprised her more was how much she wanted that.
“You don’t have to say anything, I just wanted to put that out there.”
The bit of rosiness on Ryan’s cheeks was adorable, and Katelyn leaned in for a long kiss he was all too happy to return.
“I’d have to think about it,” she said, even as her heart warmed at the thought of coming home to daddy every day. Of being a good girl.
“First though, can I get changed?”
Ryan smiled, the tension finally leaving him. “Of course, honey.”
This time he didn’t carry her, instead leading her by hand back to the bedroom. Four ripped tapes later, he had her wiped down in no time.
As Katelyn lay naked on the bed, she saw Ryan head over to their dresser and pull open her panty drawer. He hesitated, until he heard the love of his life call from behind him.
“Can I have another diaper, daddy?”
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luveline · 8 months
Note
Hi jadeybabes!! Like everyone else I’m adoring the soulmate prince au and I’m wondering if we could have a peek into Steve’s thoughts and feelings about finding his soulmate after searching so long and rushing to a quick wedding even though they hardly know each other?
Like we’ve seen reader’s apprehension and insecurities mixed up with just how kind and pretty she thinks he is, and I’m wondering what’s going through Steve’s head? Love you!
hi lovely, love u ♡ prince!steve au fem, 1.2k
His private gardens are silent beyond the low hum of dragonflies zipping across the pond and the creak of his hammock. The old trees he's suspended between don't move an inch, but the netted fabric Steve lays on curls tight with every slow swing.
He can smell hyacinth where it grows at the perimeter of the bluegrass, and the fragrant cocoa of his hot chocolate steaming on the paving stones beneath him. There are a hundred beautiful things to savour out here in the evenings, but Steve can think about nothing but you. Your eyes, the timid sweet smile you give him when he's touching you. Your voice, and how you speak to him when you're alone. 
Steve knows he's likely the only person fortunate enough in his entire kingdom to meet his soulmate when he desired it. Which isn't to say he didn't hold out hope when he was young, thinking one day he'd meet them, a diplomat's daughter or the child of a visiting King. He knows it was stupid to assume his soulmate would be another royal, but when you're a kid you believe what you're told. 
"Well, of course she'll be educated," his mother would say, sitting two feet away at the dining table, an oyster spoon in hand. "Slight, well-mannered, quiet. You'll be king, so she'll need to be strong. She'll need to know how to take a beating." 
Steve remembers thinking, Why? It's not as if I'll hit her. 
It's still true, but he can guess what she meant: To be thrust into the spotlight and with little choice in the manner, you have to have a strong disposition. Steve can't not be a Prince. His soulmate can't not want to marry him. She'll need to buckle up. 
He doesn't technically agree with his mother's thoughts back then, but he understands them. Steve believes you have much more choice in the manner, and he's dedicated to giving you that choice even if the wedding is being forced on you both. He wants to make this something you want too. 
Sighing, Steve rakes a hand through his hair. He needs time to himself, without Robin or Munson and especially without his mother's lady's maids. Steve finds his days stolen and his time delegated, richocheting between government, education, fencing, fittings, toning, training. He can keep up. He doesn't mind. But without an hour alone every now and then, he'll explode. 
He stretches out as much as the hammock allows with a frankly hideous groan. His neck and shoulders pop. What he really needs is an hour with the masseuse, Claire. Before Steve met you, he thought she was his soulmate. She has nice hands. 
He hears you before he sees you, your footsteps on the pathway. He immediately sits up from the hammock with mild grace, standing in the grass with no idea where to put his hands. 
He clasps them behind his back as you come into view. 
"Hi, Steve," you say hesitantly. 
He can't help it —he sees you and a smile splits his face. Trying not to come on too strong is out the window. 
"Hi," he says. You've stopped a couple of feet away. The light of your soul mark is muted to near invisibility, tinged somewhere between pink and purple. It looks ethereal against your skin. "Are you okay?" 
"I'm fine. Uh, Robin said you'd be here. That they'd let me through." 
"Only you," he says. He told them quite concisely that you're the single person permitted to interrupt his time alone. 
"I can come back later." 
"No, tell me what's wrong." 
"It's… Why do you assume something's wrong?" 
"Because you've willingly sought me out?" he asks with a well-meaning laugh. 
It's the wrong thing to say. You shift from foot to foot, rubbing your palms together sheepishly. "I guess it was stupid. I'm sorry, you can, uh, you can go back to what you were doing. Sorry, Steve." 
"Wait a second!" he says, though he drops his volume when you flinch. "Wait, no, don't– Don't leave, I didn't mean that you can't come and find me unless there's something wrong. I want to talk to you. Really badly. That's why I told them to let you in." 
"About what?" 
"About everything," he says. 
You and Steve sit on one of the steps leading down to the fish pond. It's a beautiful feature with mirror clean waters and water lilies, their petals a quiet pink melding into sunshine orange. He points at it, his head inclined to yours. 
"Nymphaea aurora," he murmurs. The water ripples, a darkening purple reflection of the sky as the sun sets. "They're bred for the colour specifically." 
"Do you like those ones?" you ask him. 
"I like all of them." He doesn't know how to explain how he feels, the dawning hope of being close to you, the magnetic tethering. "We could get different stuff if you wanted. It'll be your garden too, soon," he says, watching fondly as you draw your legs a touch closer and bend at the waist, hugging your thighs. "Are you tired?" 
"Kind of, but I know you're busy tomorrow." You want to talk to him as much as he wants to talk to you. He tries hard not to feel smug. 
"I'm really sorry. We shouldn't be separated right now, we should be spending the week together." It's a common phenomena. People meet their soulmates and disappear for days on end together, appearing later to beg forgiveness, cheeks aglow with joy. He wanted that with you. He wants whatever he can get.
Steve drops his voice to a whisper, bending at the waist to meet you eye to eye, "Do you want to run away with me tomorrow?" 
You don't flinch, wince, or smile. Tentative, you whisper back, "You couldn't run away." 
"Just for the day. We'll wear fake eyeglasses and sunhats and slip out in the morning when they change the guards. I've done it before." 
"You have?" 
"So many times. What do you think of that?" 
"What would we do all day?" you whisper. 
"Anything we want. Sneak into the opera house, eat dinner in the square from the food carts. We can finally get to know one another. Just you and me," he says softly.
Your tired smile tugs at the corners. 
"Okay. Yeah, I want to go." 
He reaches across the gap to stroke your cheek, a brisk, wanting line from the highest point to the skin shy of your jaw. In the evening dark, your face awash with the milky light of the appearing moon, you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen. 
You laugh softly and turn your face away, shaking your head before sitting up altogether. 
Steve sits up. "Then we'll go. But we should head to bed now, I'll have to wake you up in a few hours. They've started to expect my escape in the morning." 
Steve walks you back to your room. He wants to kiss you goodnight, and there's a pause where he thinks about it before telling you goodnight. When your door closes behind you, he has to stop himself from knocking and asking if you want to leave now. 
He's eager to get to know you, but you both have time. 
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akoyaxs · 5 months
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Tì'eylan Teaser ✮ Pairing: Aonung x fem!human!reader ✮ Trope: Friends to lovers ✮ Tags: mentions of sexual partners, talk of sex, size difference, fluff (no smut YET)
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“Tell me,” he says with a small, ponderous frown, as though something had just occurred to him, though you knew this look perfectly well to guess what he was about to say was not some casual thought that slid nonchalantly into his mind. “How have you been taking care of yourself?”
You look wearily up from your beadings to squint at him – all stretched out and full of lazy curiousity on the woven mat of your marui. This is how you often spent the warm afternoons in Awa’atlu; you beading or mixing herbs or cooking or something actually useful, while your friend bothers you.
You were still too weary of actually swimming with people, surrounded by beautiful, tall, slim, lithe na’vi girls, and although Aonung had tried to convince you a million times, those bikinis you brought with you remained secretly stowed away deep in the darkest parts of your marui.
Sometimes at night, you would slip out the walkway of your marui into the cool ocean below, but careful that there’s no one around to see. At least it meant na’vi were absolutely shocked to say the least when they saw just how curvy human bodies could get without your flowy clothing.
“What are you on about?” you sigh. “I’m perfectly healt-”
“I meant physically,” Aonung says casually. “Maintaining yourself sexually.”
Oh.
Your friend did have a habit of being carelessly blunt in his manners, but that was one thing that managed to take you by surprise.
“What do you think?” you laugh, throwing off your disconcertion and far too used to your friend - and all na’vi really - disregard for topics very much taboo for humans to be thrown off by the quite personal question.
“Well…” he shifts closer to gage your expression, a small furrow creasing his brow. “You are the only tawtute here, and I’m sure even your kind have sexual needs that must be met. So how…”
“Do I cope when I get horny?” you finished, raising your brows and wrinkling your nose at him. Aonung nods, throat looking a little tight but otherwise unbothered by the delicacy a conversation like this should typically have. “What sort of answer are you looking for, Aonung?”
He blinks, then shakes his head in a puppyish way and you grin.
“I don’t just take care of myself on my own, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you answer elusively.
You never told Aonung the truth. The truth that you have no shortage of Metkayina men offering to deal with your sexual desires, lost in their own curiosity of human-na’vi sexual experimentation.
And you’d be lying if you pretended you weren’t attracted to them. How could you not be?
Na’vi were nine to ten feet of practically pure muscle, cloaked in beautiful, smooth blue skin and glimmering with pretty glowing tahnì. They were slim and wire, agile and graceful in their movements and talented beyond anything a human could ever possibly possess.
So, discreetly, you would indulge in all sorts of capers. It was, admittedly, a lot of fun.
Sometimes you’d be offered pretty little gifts, clumsily complimented on your human looks and talents, or even simply carried away in heated moments of pleasure and experimentation.
But here was Aonung, nearly your best friend at this point, who just heard your vague answer to his curious question.
You can physically see the moment the connotation of your words sinks into his thick skull, and his eyes widen large as Pandora and his lips part in shock.
“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” you grin, flicking him on the shoulder. “You didn’t expect me to sit all tight and pretty and alone while practically stranded on an island of mega hot people, did you?”
Aonung looks as though he very much did expect that, or at least the thought of you fucking other members of his clan had certainly never crossed his mind. In fact, he looks nothing short of stupefied as he stares at you.
“Who?” he demands, an unmistakable scowl settling over his face.
“Really?” you laugh, rolling your eyes. “Like I’d tell you?”
“Why not?” he asks sullenly, muscles tense and jaw clenched.
“Because I know you, Aonung,” you smile. “And I know how you act around Tsireya with Lo’ak, and I don’t need your stupid ass scaring away my possible companions.”
“Companions,” he grunts with derisive amusement, before his scowl fixes once again and he furrows his brow once more. “You do know I do not see you as a sister, right?”
“Yeah well… don’t tell me that if I share who I’ve been with that you won’t get mad at them.”
Aonung pauses, and you can see he recognises your point; at the slightest mention of a name, Aonung would be up with the guy pinned up bruised and bloodied.
“So you like na’vi then?” Aonung questions. “Even though we’re double your height and could throw you twenty feet?”
“On the contrary,” you say with a sly, amusing grin, “that’s exactly what I like.”
When Aonung’s face slackens a little in shock, you laugh openly and shake your head.
“But who cares if I like na’vi- they’re hot and muscly, so it’s totally justified in my opinion!” you say with a wide, shameless grin. “The real question is why the guys were attracted to me – if humans are so small and weak looking or whatever else you giants think of us, then why would they want to fuck me?”
“That really is a whole other question,” Aonung sighs, rolling his eyes as though you’re being stupid. “But be honest, what do you think of me-”
He’s cut off by your pillow smacking him heavily in the face, and resurfaces to find your little frown a foot away from his.
“Hey, I was honest with you,” you scowl. “If you don’t want me going back to thinking you’re an absolute dick again- leave it.”
And he does, reluctantly.
All afternoon you can see him itching to question you more about it, burning with the desire to find out who you had been with, still shocked by the revelation that you fucked around with people in his clan, and he never even knew.
But he knows better than to push you, so he stays quiet, watching you work quietly.
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@hadesbabygurl @wavesarchive @kqlopsia @tadomikiku @ntymavtr @mommyanddadskiller @thehoneymushroomhealer @tsireyax @integers @tiyawnyana @whatevenisagrapefruit @oakbuggy @sunsetviper @blue-slxt @simplyawh0re@yootvi @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @vminlvxr @elegantfankidsoul @blue-slxt @neteyamssyulang @theunfortunateplace @lala-1516 @strongheartneteyam @kiskso @deadpool15 @vampirefilmlover @tysirya @universal-s1ut Please let me know if you'd also like to be added to the taglist :)
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panchatea · 1 month
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GREEN
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GREEN
#1 of 3 Colors Series.
TRIGGER WARNING is expected, proceed with caution
Dreamcatcher Fanfiction
6322 WORDS
chacha story commissions
It was cold light blue… 
Really cold and these red mosquitos were everywhere feasting and leaving itchy marks on each arm and leg. It was crippling, it was dark, but at least it was quiet. 
Finally quiet.
It was white.
A sweater or a hoodie would be quite useful right now, but there was no point, right? After all, it all doesn’t matter now, there was nothing to lose or gain anymore. Just take mindless steps… mindless heavy steps with no direction. Grab the gray asphalt underneath. Feel the cold, feel all of it… 
Blink.
It was dark, yet it was bright.
It was white.
All of these blinding lights were everywhere from store signages and street lights. Countless lost red and yellow souls passing by each other, and not caring about one another. After all, people have their own problems to deal with. 
Problems.
If only it were that simple, but it wasn't.
It never did.
Wish it was all monochrome but no, everything was bright, too bright to begin with, too colorful, too complicated, and there was no side ledge to stand on top off to. There was no compelling, pulling, and captivating clear dark blue body of water to drown in.
Not that everything wasn’t already drowning and suffocating.
All there was just darkness, this asphalt underneath, and all of these bright street lamps.
Just breathe.
It’s not that hard. It’s not that hard to just breathe.
Hard to breathe.
“You’re green.” That was what she said before grabbing onto your hand, without asking and pulling you away from these heavy mindless steps. She held tightly as every color blurred out, and each step kept getting lighter.
Run.
Her hand was soft, but she was gripping tightly and she was shaking as if… you looked at her. She was purple.
It was fast and blurry. All these colors mixed up and there was no clear path and all you could focus on was her. Her color oozed with purples and violets. Her blonde hair. That black sweater and gray skirt. And run to god knows where she would take you.
“What are you thinking about?” She yelled, still running.
“I don’t know…
Like maybe why are we running?
Who are you?
What are we even doing?
Aren’t you running out of breath?”
“Hey calm down, Green. Geez, you have too many questions.” She didn’t answer any of them.
“Are we lost?!” You yelled back.
You could just stop and let go of her hand but you didn’t. Why because for some reason…
“It’s okay, Green.” Once again her answer didn’t answer the question, but her words, felt like they meant something else.
Like it was okay to be lost.
“Why are you calling me Green?”
“Breathe.” She stopped. You both stopped.
“What’s that expression on your face?” She added.
“How about you? What are you so afraid of?”
Once again, she didn’t answer… She just looked at you while she caught her breath.
“You can see it, right?”
“I don't know what you are talking about.”
“The colors. Tell me what color I am?”
“You’re purple or violet… I don’t know, I don’t care. What does it even mean?”
She just laughed, loudly until it was all you could hear, breaking the whites, mixing in the dark.
“Can you just talk to me like a normal person!?” You shouted and she just looked surprised. She pouted but she didn’t say anything.
“Look, I’m sorry for yelling. I just, can’t deal with this right now. I don't have time for this.” You tried to walk away but her next words stopped you.
She was really pushy.
“I'm not normal, Green.” She laughed.
“You’re silly, you know.” She squatted looking at your toes, at your shoeless feet.
“It's just that sometimes or most of the time, I get into these moods. I say what I want. I do what I want. You’re right… I’m purple. You’re funny, you don't know the difference between purples and violets.” She pointed at your feet happily.
“Your toes are dirty, aren’t they cold? Don’t go running without shoes or a flip-flop. I like violet more than purple, so I appreciate that you thought I was a violet.”
She says one different thing after another.
“You’re weird.” You sighed out of frustration as you grew aware of what she pointed out, yes your feet were cold.
“It’s my first time seeing your shade of green,” she muttered.
“Usually, I would see it in restaurants or children who don’t like their veggies. Did you eat something weird? But you’re different, it’s as if you’re disgusted by yourself.” She looked at you intently, studying your expression or rather studying your expression and peeking into your soul.
“That’s none of your business scaredy fox.” You reached inside your pocket and took out the single stick of cigarette left in there and a lighter.
“Hey, don’t smoke, Green.” She jumped up while simultaneously snatching the stick slipped in between your fingers, and threw it away. “It’s bad for you.”
“What’s your problem?!” You shouted at her and she just smiled.
“How about you? What’s your problem?” She retorted sternly as if she really believed that snatching that cigarette was the right thing to do. You just sighed in defeat. 
She had this commanding and carefree aura or in other words she was weird and she just didn’t care.
“Come on, just calm down and enjoy this view,” She tapped your shoulders before turning to look around. What view? All of it was just empty dark streets lit by white street lights, colorful street signage of 24-hour establishments, and the occasional passing of cars, and red and yellow souls.
“You’re weird,” you commented and she just smiled back at you.
“Keep telling me that, Green. It’s better to be weird than be normal, that sucks.”
“Stop calling me, Green. I don’t know what it means and I have a name,” you retorted while you stared at her. Now that you have a chance, you realize how beautiful this girl was… She looked like an idol, and the street lights weren’t blinding for once, they just illuminated this girl enough to show her violet self.
“So go ahead and tell me your name,” She challenged as she turned back and made eye contact.
“I don’t want to.”
She pouted, “Come on, I’ll tell you mine so tell me yours.”
“Why should I, you’ll keep calling me green anyways, Violet.”
“Haha, maybe I should dye my hair violet soon. Sure, that’s fine, let's just talk like this. Do you wanna walk? Or do you wanna sit?”
You laughed as you took a sit on the sidewalk underneath one of those white street lights.
“You made me run and then you’ll make me walk, don’t forget that I’m barefooted, Violet.” She laughed before sitting beside you.
“Here let me even out things,” She said before she removed her shoes and socks, and then threw them away.
“That’s not what I mean,” You said in a tone of frustration, “and that doesn’t even out things since we’re sitting.”
“Come on now, it’s better this way. Now go talk your heart out, Green.” She looked at you. Those eyes of hers, expecting something to come out of your mouth—the story of your shade of green.
She was really pushy(2).
“You go first, then I will go.” You smirked at her and she just pouted before breaking eye contact and looking at the sky.
“How about we play a game, Green? Let’s take turns, I’ll answer your question and then you answer mine. So that it’s fair, right?” She smiled in between her sentences.
“Sure, I’ll go first,” you quickly said and she just side-eyed in response before nodding and looking up again to the sky—that dark empty sky.
“What does Green, Purple, or Violet mean? Colors, what do colors mean?” You asked her. You could always see them everywhere but didn't really know what they meant. What do they mean? How could she even tell you could see them?
She snickered at your question, “You can see them but don’t know what they mean? You’re funny and weird.”
“I’m the one who is asking here, Miss.”
“Yes, yes, I’ll answer,” she said as she gestured as if she was grabbing something in the sky above her, “Green means disgust, and Purple is fear. Violet is still fear, but I guess for me, it is sadness mixed with little bits of anger. You know what’s funny, violet is made with more blue than red, and purple is just more red than blue. They, Purple and Violet are basically the same thing but they mean differently.”
Her explanation had raised questions. What she said wasn't clear honestly, but you just listened intently.
Her words… were just like she was yapping about something but they held meaning. 
“So if red is anger, and blue is sadness. Then Purple, do they root from anger and sadness? Does that mean you’re overwhelmed by anger but were slapped with the reality and blueness of not being able to do anything with that fear? Hence, maybe that’s why you’re afraid. What does Violet even mean then, when you’re too sad but also a little bit angry?” She lowered her fist and looked at it intently before opening it. 
She grabbed nothing out of the vast dark sky but there was something.
“You’re being unfair, you already asked three questions you know,” you smiled unknowingly as you watched her. “Anyways, I think you’re right though. There is nothing to be afraid of if you are happy.”
“Yellow?” She cut.
“Yes, yellow maybe as you said. Hence, fear is rooted in sadness, but sadness is just not enough. Maybe that’s why we need anger to experience fear. Sadness from the helplessness and anger from the hopelessness. Which do you prefer though? Violet or Purple?”
Once again, she looked at you straight in the eyes and something way beyond your eyes.
Perhaps the colors? Or maybe your soul?
“I prefer Violet, I already said that to you earlier. I think I’m violet… I wish I could be Violet, Green. What do you think? What am I?”
“Okay, Violet, I guess you’re too sad then, but I think you’re more purple. But I’ll keep calling you Violet 'cause violets are nice.” You smiled at her.
“Why?” She asked quickly.
“Because violet. Suppose you become more than just a violet. Let’s say super? Ultra?” 
She smiled. 
“Ultra-violet is all the colors at full brightness,” you joked.
“Haha, Ultra-violet? That’s so weird!” She exclaimed as she stood before once again looking up in the sky.
“Look who's talking, calling someone else weird,” you teased back. 
“Just ask your question, don’t forget about it.”
“I don’t know, I’ll ask later, Green. I’ll reserve my question for later.”
“Green? I don’t think green means disgust, but rather disappointment. Yellow is Happiness?  Green is made with blue and yellow, and all I can think about with that combination is disappointment. I don’t think you’re wrong though, Green might as well be disgust.”
“Why?” She asked and stood up beside her.
“Because I hate, myself.
Because I’m disgusted by myself.”
“That’s why you’re green.” She commented almost too quickly. “Why are you disgusted by yourself?”
“Hold your horses, it’s my turn to ask.” She smiled in acknowledgment.
“What are you so afraid of?”
And for the first time tonight, she didn’t look goofy, and she wasn’t smiling without any care in the world. There was violet, there was purple in her eyes. You suddenly remembered her shaking hands earlier, so you instinctively held her hands.
There were shaking. 
She held your hand tightly and said,
“I’m afraid of dying.”
“Why?”
She smiled, “Hold your horses, it’s my turn to ask a question.”
“Touche, Violet.”
You tried to let go of her hand but she intertwined hers with yours instead.
“Answer my why first.”
“I started to believe, that’s all.” 
“And?”
“I started to loathe, and I started losing love for myself.”
“What was it that made you believe? What do you believe in?” She asked continuously. Now the game was getting more interesting.
You smirked, “My turn to ask a question.”
“Aish, go ahead.”
“Why are you afraid of dying?”
She laughed and smiled again, and for some reason, it looked and sounded forced—there was sorrow behind her smile and laugh.
“That’s simple, because I’ll die,” she stated nonchalantly as if it was the most obvious thing to say. Does she have some kind of illness? A terminally ill patient? She looked rather healthy honestly.
“Come on now, everyone will die sooner or later.”
“Yup, you’re right.”
That was when you saw, something unforgettable that would haunt you forever—may that be in a bad way or a good way. 
It was her smile.
Different from the one she did before, it was the brightest. It wasn’t white or yellow, but rather was violet. It was something beyond beauty. And it wasn’t because of how the sides of her lips or the way her cheeks puffed or the way her eyes smiled along with her lips.
But it was the genuineness of it.
Her smile was filled with sorrow. 
Her smile harbored acceptance for something beyond what you knew about her.
Her smile hinted reds of regret.
Her smile was not just blue.
It was violet.
“Ul—” 
“I’ll die tomorrow, Green,” she cut as she let go of your hand and took a few steps forward.
You could no longer see her smile, or if she was still smiling even. You stare at her back while trying to process what she just said.
Her die? Tomorrow?
That ridiculous.
“Come on don’t joke around, you’re not terminally ill, are you?” You asked worriedly but she laughed once again...
“Is that a question? You're funny, I'm not sick or ill.”
If not that then…
“Are you gonna kill yourself?” she looked back, her smile wasn't there anymore.
“It’s not your turn to ask a que—”
“Forget about the stupid game! Answer the fucking question! Are you gonna kill yourself or not?” 
“Don’t worry, I won’t kill myself,” She answered rather quickly and surely.
“Don’t ever kill yourself,” you said sternly, and she responded by holding out her pinky finger.
“I won’t kill myself, I promise.” She wiggled her finger, tempting you to take it. You took it, and she locked on it before playfully pressing her thumb onto yours.
“Why do you even care?” She teased as she broke the lock between your pinky fingers and quickly intertwined her hands instead, “You have to answer two questions in a row now, you took two turns earlier. I won’t let go of you until you do.”
You held her hand tightly.
“My best friend killed herself.” You almost choked out of your words. 
“That’s why, so don’t kill yourself, and don’t ever kill yourself. 
I don’t ever want someone I know to kill themselves again,  because I’ll actually start to believe it, and maybe, I might just end up going after them...”
“What exactly is it?”
“That's your second question,” you said as you smiled at her.
“Yes it is, but this time you don't have to answer if you're uncomfortable.” 
She smiled back.
“Because everyone blames me for her death, and today, I visited her grave for the first time. I went away. I wasn't there for her funeral after all so I visited and I couldn't do so for the longest time… because I was afraid. I thought I didn't deserve to visit her until I… I was finally able to make our wish come true but—”
You bit your lip, as you felt all of it, the memories, the emotions, and the trauma weigh down on your shoulders.
“but when I came to her grave… her Mom was there, and she… she said that…
I didn't change.
I was still the same monster who drove her daughter to kill herself.
I… they all said it before. That it was because of me.
And now I'm starting to believe it.
So you're right…
I’m green.
I’m disgusted by who I am.”
Tears started flowing. Words were said. Everything came gushing out. All of those that were heavy were released.
You just wept and cried.
*SLAP
“Hey, it’s not your fault.” 
As the pain registered, it went silent—it went monochrome. 
There were only her eyes and her mouth saying the words. 
“It’s not your fault,” she repeated.
“I —I kn—know,” you struggled.
“It's not your fault,” once again as she caressed the cheek she slapped.
“I know and I tried, but—”
“Whatever it is, whatever you did. It’s not your fault.” she cut.
“But! Sometimes or most of the time, there are voices in my head saying how it's my fault that she had died. That I was the one who,” you bit your lip, “That they are right.”
“And I! Most of the time, I tell myself that they are not wrong for saying that.
So I… yes…  I hate myself. 
I am utterly disgusted by my own being.”
Green.
She pulled you into a hug and for one last time she said, “It’s not your fault.”
“So where did you lose your shoes?” she asked jokingly and you just bursted out laughing while tears flew down your cheeks. 
“You are taking advantage of this, are you? That is your third question.”
She giggled.
“Come on, tell me about it.”
“You know,  we probably look weird like this. Hugging in the middle of the streets and crying and laughing.”
“Do you want me to let go?”
Honestly no… 
There was this kind of comfort and discomfort being engulfed by her arms. 
Why would you let a complete stranger hug you like this? 
A complete stranger saying the words you wanted to hear the most? 
“Haha, I forgot about it…  my shoes. I just ran and later realized that I didn't have one.” 
“Here, I’ll give you this instead.” She broke the hug to reach for something from her pockets and took out a violet pen. 
“Always keep this with you and don’t ever lose it.”
“What's this? A kid toy pen? It doesn’t even work.” You tried it on your hand but the pen didn't have any ink. 
“Haha, it's my treasure so take care of it.”
“I will.” You kept it inside your pocket, replacing the cigarette from before.
“So tell me? What do we do now?” You asked her.
She took a few steps, before looking back.
“What else? We keep playing the game, Green.” She said as she held out her hand. 
“Come, walk me home?”
You took it.
“Where are we even? Do you even know from all that running?” She took her steps and you followed her.
“Of course, are you not from around here?”
Once again, upon these empty streets illuminated only by white street lights, you two walked barefooted as if it was the most normal thing ever, grabbing the cold pavement while relishing the strange comfort of each other’s company. 
“No, my best friend's parents decided they were going to bury her here, in their hometown so I came here to visit, but I can just look at my phone—” you patted your pockets to look for your phone only to find out that.
“I don’t have it!” you said surprised upon the realization of this predicament.
“I lost my phone,” you said to her but she just shrugged.
“Can I borrow yours?” 
“I don’t have one,” she replied as she noticed the worried look you had.
“Maybe it's in the graveyard? Do you wanna come and get it?” She asked.
“No way! It's too late and there's no way I’m going to a graveyard this late. Aish, we don't even know what time exactly it is.”
She just laughed and you just sighed in defeat. Of course, you at least knew how you got to the graveyard from your accommodation, and how to get out of town, but you had been wondering without any care for some ample time, the running and now walking with this violet stranger girl seemed to have led you to someplace you had no idea about. Of course, this also means you didn't know how to get to the place you were residing at.  You just know too little about this town and it was harder in the dark.
“Scaredy Cat, it's not that scary.”
She knows where things are, maybe you could ask her. You sighed in defeat. 
“Let's just go, I will walk you home, and just give me directions to my shared house and then I hope I can figure the way.”
The walk by itself was uneventful, after all that happened and the things that you two shared about each other, the silence was a breath of fresh air. Her silence was odd, but everything was honestly odd about her so... 
The girl you call Violet just has too many questions surrounding her. 
She was a mystery.
A single-colored mystery
“What were you even doing out this late at night?” You looked at her hand, the one you were still holding.
“Hmm,” she pointed at her temple, “I was taking a walk?”
She joked and you bumped at her playfully.
“I wanted to feel the air.
I wanted to see the stars. 
I wanted to see those white streetlights, 
those colorful store signage, 
those lost souls colored uniquely on their own. 
I wanted to see the town.
Many more.” She smiled but her tone was filled with blues, yellows, and a new color, you had seen for the first time, orange.
What is orange?
“You’re being weird again, Violet.” you didn’t what to say so you just said the first sorry banter you thought of.
“But hey, I got to meet you, Green.” She looked at you, smiled and it was yellow.
You blushed…
She was strange.
She was weird.
But she had a smile that could not be described by just the words beautiful, pretty, or attractive.
Her smile was colorful.
“I don’t know, I think I was unlucky that I met you,” she punched you and pouted cutely. “Haha, I’m just kidding, I’m glad you found me.”
Yes, the word was found.
She found you.
“I can’t even imagine what could have happened to me if you didn’t do what you did.” You smiled.
“So thank you, Violet.”
Her eyes widened in shock, and her cheeks turned rosy. Is she blushing?
“Oh shush, don’t mention it.” She smacked your shoulders. She’s shy?! This girl…
“You looked green.” That was maybe her own way of saying You look like you needed help.
“We’re here.” You weren’t really paying attention and you just followed her so you didn't notice until you looked around to find out you two stopped in front of a massive gate, and from afar, you could an even more enormous mansion fitting the massive gate.
On the gate, you noticed circular geometric patterns, but you didn’t think much of them.
“This is your house?” you asked her and she just nodded.
“This is my family’s. My sisters and I live here,” she explained and you nodded in response. You also told her the name of your accommodation and asked for directions but she just…  shrugged… 
You couldn't believe it… there was no way.
You would have no choice but to sleep in the streets. 
“You could stay here if you want?” she offered. 
“I don’t th—”
“Lee Gahyeon!” a voice cut came from the other side of the gate before you could finish. From afar, you saw a figure of a woman. She was walking towards the two of you. 
“Lee Gahyeon?”
“That’s my name, Green.”
When the figure was finally in sight it revealed an elegant woman wearing a pure white night 
gown. Red lips, sharp nose, and lazy hazy eyes of a predator. 
“That’s my sister, Kim Minji,” Gahyeon whispered as the said woman opened the massive gate of the mansion.
She was gray.
“Your sister looks really attractive, Vio—” she elbowed you and you just giggled. Kim? They are sisters, right? 
“Where have you been?” she asked her before looking at you up and down. “And who is this gentleman?” 
A strict mom? Wait, she’s her sister. 
“I just took a night stroll, we took a night stroll,” she answered as she hugged your arm. 
“He’s my boyfriend,” she added, which made your eyes widen. 
“I see… A stroll, without shoes. A boyfriend without shoes,” She pointed out. The older sister stared at you as if she was waiting for you to say something. 
“Hi—hi! O—older Sister, I’m,” you stuttered as you introduced yourself. You held out your hand for a handshake but the older woman ignored it and turned around. 
“Come Gahyeon, it's late. We should rest, everyone has already retreated to their rooms.” The older gestured for the younger to come. 
“JiU-unnie wait. ” This halted the older and looked back. “Can he stay? He has nowhere to go right now and it's too late.”
“We don't have any guest rooms ready so just show him to Father’s bedroom. Let him borrow his clothes and… shoes.” Minji continued walking towards the manor while Gahyeon dragged you.
“Violet, is this okay?”
“Yup don’t worry, if she says it's fine then it's fine. JiU is the oldest amongst us 7 and she's the leader so what she says goes, and besides, it's the least she could do.” you sighed in defeat.
“The least she could do?”
“Yes! I mean her youngest sister brought home a man for the first time, the least she could do is to make him feel at home and give him some shoes.” she pointed at your toes before dragging you to go inside the mansion.
What’s with them and toes… and shoes…
The place was quite big so it took a while to even go to the front door of the mansion. It made you wonder, where did the older woman walking a few meters in front of you and Gahyeon. You saw a gazebo near the gate so maybe that was wear Minji was hanging out while she was waiting for Gahyeon? Alone, that late at night?
Along the way, you saw a vast green field lit by post lamps, well-kept plants and flowerbeds, and a few marble angel statues holding some sort of ornament with patterns similar to the ones on the gate. It was creepy looking at them so you tried to ignore them up until you arrived at the front door. Although, it was hard not to notice as even the front door had them engraved.
“Violet, what are those?” you pointed at the door.
“Those are dreamcatchers, you’ll see them everywhere,” Minji explained instead of Gahyeon.  
“They are all valuable so don’t touch them,” Gahyeon added before guiding you inside the mansion. 
The word magnificent wasn't enough to describe it. If only there were a word for something terrifying yet grandiose. It was only the entrance, where you were greeted by a massive grand oval staircase solely lit by a crystal chandelier. Angels on both the left and right ends of the staircase, each holding their own dreamcatcher. 
The light from the chandelier was not enough to illuminate the whole place, but it was enough for you to see the place with the sunroof helping with a little bit of illumination from the moon.
Minji was right, they were everywhere from the patterns of the stair railings, to many of them hanging in the ceiling, railings, and walls. Even the crystals of the chandelier looked like individual dreamcatchers on their own. 
The open space was big enough to be a function hall. At the end of it, there was a hall with what seemed to be full rooms. Similar to the one in the middle, the left and right way had a hall passage leading to parts of the mansion that you haven’t seen yet.
The place had at least three floors but it seemed like the grand staircase connected only the first and second floors but you could see a third floor from the open space above. As you looked up again, there seemed to be a silhouette looking at the three of you.
“Someone is up there,” you pointed out to the two women.
“Probably one of our sisters,” Gahyeon answered.
“Come on, I’ll take you to Father’s bedroom.” Gahyeon took your hand again and you just followed her.
“Are there elevators in this massive place?” You asked them.
“What’s that?” Gahyeon asked back sincerely as if she had never seen an elevator before.
“Really?” You asked back, but she laughed loudly.
“Gahyeon, please not be too loud,” Minji 
“Of course, I know what an elevator is. We just don’t have one. My father is an old-school grandpa so he didn’t like technology so much,” Gahyeon joked.
Come to think of it, she also didn’t have a cellphone.
Soon Minji headed for her room and you two headed for their Father’s bedroom. You assumed that their father was not in the mansion because they were renting his bedroom away, but you didn’t ask about it because it might be a sensitive topic.
The room was just as you had imagined but it didn’t fail to impress you. It was the master bedroom—a king-size bed, a walk-in closet full of unbranded tailored clothes, shoes, and accessories, a bathroom of its own, and other things that screamed wealth. Gahyeon had let you borrow most of it. It was embarrassing being treated so well, but she firmly assured you it was okay.
When you came out of the bathroom after freshening up, you looked at the balcony,  where you found her watching the night sky. For a moment, you stared at her before she noticed you, smiled at you and gestured for you to join her. You thought to yourself as you walked towards her that she finally looked like the color she wanted to become. Violet.
Maybe more than that.
Ultra-violet.
“I’m your boyfriend?” you teased her as you leaned on the balcony railings. You stared at her while she continued watching the stars and the moon. Beautiful. You thought to yourself. It was picturesque, her glowing under the moonlight.
“Why do you not want to? Is this my first rejection?” She giggled.
“Wow, you’re just gonna turn me into a heartbreaker if I say no?”
Any guy would want to be hers. You were sure of it. You were not even sure if she was serious about the boyfriend thing. It was just an excuse to let her older sister let you inside the mansion. She was kind like that.
“I’m serious, be my boyfriend,” She declared as she slowly inched towards you until she was close… too close.
“Do you love me?” You asked, even though you knew what was the answer.
Her violet turned into pink. Weird.
“Hmm, I find you interesting and I think you’re cute. I like you, but I don’t think I love you yet,” She explained as you backed down a few steps away from her.
“How about you, Green? Do you love me?” She threw the question right back at you.
It feel like you two were playing the game again.
“You’re be—beautiful… You’re re—really nice. Kind. Although you’re kinda odd and weird, I think any man would fall in love with you.” She inched forward, once again in an uncomfortable distance. 
Yellow. 
Was your eye tricking you?
“I would love to be your boyfriend, but I don’t think it’s the right time to do so,” you blurted out nervously. She pouted. She smiled differently—almost bittersweetly.
Also, how could one truly love someone when one only has hate for themselves?
“Aish, what a heartbreaker.” She flicked your forehead before running inside the room.
Now once again, her usual Violet.
“Hey! What was that for?” You chased after, but she ran circles around you, outmaneuvering you using her speed, by throwing throw pillows at you or putting distance between the two of you using the furniture. You didn’t even know what you were going to do once you caught her but you kept chasing.
Up until she stepped into one of the pillows she threw earlier and slipped. Time slowed down, and in that moment, you tried to break her fall or maybe catch her from an impending disaster. You couldn’t catch her. Thankfully, she didn’t hit her head and instead, she fell onto the bed. You sighed in relief when you saw that she wasn’t hurt in any way. But there was something strange. Her cheeks turned rosy. She had let out a strange noise.
“I’m no longer pure,” she whispered… What did she mean by that? 
That was when you realized, you fell into a position where you could only see in dramas or animations, a girl accidentally falling and the boy trying to catch her only to end up in an awkward position.
Maybe, fate was rather playful at that point as you felt your body press onto her. You could feel her soft body on yours, and her face… she was too close. Gahyeon was so close that it was only an inch keeping you two away from kissing. Luckily, it wasn’t that cringe trope where the guy accidentally grabbed the woman’s breast, but luck couldn’t suppress biology as your body reacted embarrassingly. 
“Green, your thing… is pressing against me,” Gahyeon said shyly to which you quickly responded by jumping out of that position.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it! It’s a natural thing!” You reasoned out, but she just laughed as she fixed herself.
“Pervert,” She whispered into your ear before kissing you on the cheek.
“Haha, you’re blushing, Green!” She teased as she walked to the door.
“That’s what you get for rejecting me,” Gahyeon said before leaving you speechless inside that massive room.
What?! 
Why did she do that?!
What’s with her?!
You had so many questions, but you just retreated to the bed. So much happened, and meeting Gahyeon somehow made it bearable and for a moment you forget about all those hardships. 
Gahyeon/Violet was really an oddball.
“Ultra-violet,” you muttered to yourself.
Maybe it was worth trying again at this complicated colorful life. 
Somehow, it not being monochrome was great as before it once had her, and now it has Violet.
Tomorrow would be a great day, you thought to yourself before closing your eyes.
What kind of questions should you ask her tomorrow?
The next day came full of anticipation. The questions still lingered. 
Her kiss. 
Her smile.
Her color.
That brightness. 
They all lingered.
You opened the door of the master room only to be greeted by the warmth of the bright yellow sun. The sunroof filled the mansion with natural light. Light creates the ambiance of the place, as well as the expression of the structure. The wealthy took this to heart. What kind of family do they even have to afford this?
This place wasn’t so creepy after all. The marble statues, and the dreamcatchers. Maybe the dark tense vibe of the night made it creepy. The master room/Gahyeon’s father's room was located on the third floor and the fact that the mansion was vast meant it was a trip to even to the second floor.
You hummed as you walked and tried to reflect on what happened yesterday. You remembered Gahyeon’s pen, you remember putting it inside your pockets. You checked if it was still there, and to your surprise, something else was inside your pocket.
A note that said the following:
“Don’t trust anyone. Don’t keep this note. Swallow it.”
Chills went down your spine. What does this even mean? Is this a prank?
“AHH!” a scream came from below. The first floor. 
Does this mean the note is not a prank? 
What’s happening?
Before you could even think straight, you just did as the note said. You crumpled it and swallowed it whole before heading to the first floor. Suddenly, you remembered something from yesterday.
“I’ll die tomorrow, Green.” 
You completely forgot about what she said. Your steps became heavier, but you found yourself running the flight of stairs.
Hearts were booming. Imagination was going wild. Anxiety kicked in.
It only got worse when you arrived at the grand staircase when you saw something hanging off the chandelier. The steps felt endless. You closed your eyes. You could only wish that your eyes were lying to you.
It’s not real, right?
Open your eyes. Look again.
Her smile.
Her color.
You reached the bottom.
That was when the high came crashing down as you looked at a scene that would haunt you forever. It hit hard before, but it hit harder today. Your hope was quite literally hanging in front of your eyes. It didn’t crash down. It floated, and it would never reach the ground.
That was when the colors faded.
There was so much to ask.
But there was no more chance.
A game played by one person would not be fun at all.
It was your turn after all.
Ask the question.
As your tears flew down your cheeks endlessly, they were crawling slowly from behind, hugging you. A weight on your shoulders. A blow of air right beside your ear whispered. It was a feeling you know of too much already.
Her hugs.
The way she held your hand.
The way her lips curved when she smiled.
Her bright color.
“It’s your turn, Green.” That was her sweet kind voice, but how could it be? How could it be her when she was literally hanging in front of your eyes?
“Violet,” you called her name, “who killed you?”
The game continues.
-
This is for a good friend of mine. Thank you for waiting for this after so many months of hiatus.
Not as good as I was and maybe too many errors but here it is.
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