#they both definitely put this in their best man (and woman) speech
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Hermione: How’d it go, love?
Ron: [who just got back from meeting Blaise’s parents for dinner] I think it went well..
Harry: Ron. You texted me saying “this place is so fucking fancy. I don’t know which knife to kill myself with.”.
Hermione: …
Ron: …
Harry: …
Hermione: Must of been pretty fancy if you didn’t kill yourself
Ron: Oh my god it was!! And !!-
#they liked him so it was fine#they both definitely put this in their best man (and woman) speech#incorrect harry potter quotes#incorrect quotes#ron weasley#hermione granger#harry potter#blaise zabini#blairon#harry potter crack
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Dinner Date
For STWG daily drabble and, more importantly, for Goldie @steventhusiast. Happy Birthday, you deserve the world. I know you’re asleep right now, but it’s technically still your bday here.
“Dingus, this is a really fancy restaurant.” Robin leans back in her chair, but her hand plays with the fork on her napkin.
Steve sips his wine; some of it tips over the edge onto the tablecloth. “What? Can’t a guy take his best friend out to a fancy dinner?” He tilts his head and takes in his best friend. What was once an awkward teen now had a beautiful, but still awkward, woman in her place.
“Steve, I love our friend dates, but usually they take place in a greasy diner or dollar pizza.” Robin picks the fork up and starts twirling it into her napkin. Steve watches her get mesmerized by the wrinkles that wrapped around the silverware, even though they both know the napkin should be in her lap by now.
Steve smiles softly, moves his napkin from his lap to the table, and begins to mimic Robin. “Okay, maybe I wanted it to be a special occasion.”
Robin giggles at Steve's poor fork-twirling form and leans over the table to fix it for him. “All occasions are special when we are together, so that doesn’t really mean much.” Robin’s nose scrunches in concentration as she gently guides Steve’s hand. She has done this plenty of times before, guiding Steve where he needed to be. Like taking him to the bookstore near her college so he wouldn’t have to go into sex with Eddie blind, or when she taught him how to whisk eggs properly. Both are equally important skills he now uses in his everyday life. “But you seemed nervous. You keep sipping your wine, and I know for a fact that you hate dry wine.”
Steve puts down the glass that was halfway to his mouth, “It’s not my fault Moscato tastes like candy!”
Robin snorts, “Seriously, Dingus. It’s just me. What’s up?”
Steve puts down the fork and his glass and looks Robin in the eye. “I wanted to ask you to be my best man.”
Steve expects a lot of reactions out of her: excitement, an eye roll, hell, even straight-up rejection. Maybe a little speech about how weddings for them aren’t even legal. Instead, a look of betrayal crosses her face. “You asked Eddie to marry you, and you didn’t even tell me you were proposing?”
Immediately, Steve clenches his stomach in outrageous laughter, nearly having to bend over the table. Steve tries to take Robin seriously; he really does. But she is supposed to be the smart one out of the two of them.
Rage takes over Robin completely as she reaches over the table to start slapping Steve’s arm. “Don’t laugh, you asshat! I am actually mad at you!”
“Ow—” Steve laughs. “Ow, Robin!” Another giggle escapes him as he gets her to sit back in her chair. “I’m laughing because, of course, I didn’t propose to Eddie without talking to you first.”
Robin settles a bit at this, “I’m confused.”
Steve reaches for her hand across the table; Robin doesn’t hesitate to wrap her fingers around his. “I’m asking you to be my Best Man first, doofus. Before I even pick out the damn ring. Which I definitely need you to steal one of Eddie’s rings for me so I can get the size; man watches those things like a hawk.”
Robin squeezes his hand, “Wait, why would you ask me that first? Isn’t that kind of backwards.”
“I do everything kind of backwards, babe. Kinda the Steve Harrington special.” Steve rubs a thumb against the back of soulmate's hand. “Of course, I ask you about being my best man first. There would be no wedding without you, so if you say no, there would be no proposing.”
Steve could see tears beginning to fill Robin’s eyes, “What are you saying?”
“Whoever gets stuck with me gets stuck with you. We’re a package deal, babe.”
Robin throws herself across the table, knocking the wine everywhere. Steve laughs and clenches her tightly. “Of course, I’ll be your best man! Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t hurt yourself going down the aisle.” She sobs.
Steve’s throat gets thick, “Pretty sure that’s the father's job, Robs. And you’d have to fight Jim for that role.”
“Fine.” Robin sniffs, leaning back to look him in the eye. “But I get stand by your side as you make a complete fool of yourself with your vows.”
“Deal.”
Robin leans forward, placing her forehead against Steve’s. “You and me against the world, babe.”
Steve hugs her tight, “You and me against the world.”
#stobin#steddie#steve and robin both call eachother babe#its canon#i dont make the rules#happy birthday gold!!!!#i asked them what they like in stranger things fic#and they said stobin with a side of steddie#so bet say less you got it hon#steven harrington#robin buckley#platonic soulmates stobin#my writing#platonic stobin
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“Roses”
Originally by ABDL Story Forum user Satyr
Chapter 1: The Rules
“Here are the rules,” she said. “There will be no sex. No unnecessary touching of privates. You may undress me as part of your… play, and feel free to admire my body, but look with your eyes, not your hands or, god forbid, your dick. Got it?”
Jonathan nodded. “Of course.”
“Good. Everything will happen in private. If you want to do public play, we will renegotiate. If at any point I say the word ‘roses,’ you will immediately stop whatever you’re doing. Oh, and I take payment in advance.”
He nodded again. “Absolutely. I won’t hurt you. Quite the opposite. I want to take care of you. That’s kind of my thing.” Jonathan handed her the cash, and she put it away in her purse.
“Okay, then the formal shit is taken care of. I’m yours until tomorrow morning, unless you break our contract. Starting now.”
Jonathan beamed a wide smile at her. “Now, now. Little girls don’t use dirty words, do they?”
Eliza blushed. It was a genuine blush, too. Fuck. I’m screwing up already. “Sorry,” she said, casting her glance downward to the floor. “I’ve never catered to this particular kink before. It’ll probably take me a little while to properly get into the role.”
Eliza had been a sex worker for the past two years, after she finished college. She’d done porn for some minor producers, and a few times, she’d straight up sold sex. Eliza loved the idea of it: she was the kind of woman who in earlier times might have been referred to a psychiatrist for nymphomania, and today would be known as a slut. But why shouldn’t she have lots of sex if she wanted to? The idea of selling herself, not because anyone forced her to, but because she could and wanted to, was both liberating and, in a naughty taboo kind of way, incredibly sexy. That was the idea of it, though. In practice, having to deal with her customers so intimately—the fat and ugly and smelly ones, as well as the ones who looked like they might be carrying super-AIDS—was far from sexy. Just when she’d thought it might be best to give up the whole prostitute thing as an expression of youthful experimentation, she’d lucked into meeting a couple clients who had more particular desires. Ones that didn’t even want to fuck her. They were content to fondle her feet or tie her up and mock her, or force her to strip naked and do household chores while they watched. She was still selling herself, but it had been eight months since she’d actually sold sex.
What do you really want? She thought, looking over at Jonathan. All her clients wanted things they couldn’t or wouldn’t express, and if she did those things, they were on the hook as regulars. The man sitting across from her on the couch was her newest client, and definitely the wealthiest. Jonathan was in his early thirties, mop of brown hair and nerdy glasses, but he wore a businessman’s suit. He was the founder of a tech startup that had been bought up by Google for an undisclosed, enormous sum, and now he lived an early retirement in a swanky suburban mansion.
“That’s okay,” Jonathan said. He was sweating, she noticed. Eliza moved to sit beside him.
“First time paying for this kind of thing?” She asked.
He squirmed on the couch, as if he were a schoolboy who hadn’t done his homework. Eliza laughed. “It’s okay. Everyone is nervous the first time. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. What I’ll usually do is, I make us a drink, and then we just get to know each other a little before the roleplaying begins in earnest. Would you like a drink?”
Jonathan blushed, then he nodded. As Eliza rose, about to ask him where he stored his liquor, she heard a cough behind her. “I…” He began. Oh, spit it out! She thought. Is he going to be one of those guys who loses the faculty of speech once he has a girl over? She’d had some clients who panicked once their biggest fantasy was about to become real. Guys who clearly had very little experience with real women, and when faced with one, one whom they’d paid to be theirs for the night, it was all too much to them. Some of them she’d ended up simply talking to all night. Fortunately, Jonathan only needed two tries before he spoke. He grabbed her hand and held her back, gently but firmly. “I have a few rules of my own, young lady.”
Eliza turned around to face him. “Yes?” She said, trying her best to sound as innocent as she believed he wanted her to be.
“First of all, only grown-ups are allowed in the liquor cabinet.” He was trying very hard to sound authoritative, and it was working about halfway into rule number one, but then his voice faltered. Eliza found it endearing. She didn’t know much about his kink, so he would have to teach her, but on the other hand, he clearly didn’t know much about being a Dom in practice, so maybe they’d have to learn together. “But, uh… I could use a drink. Wait here a minute.”
She glanced around the room while he was gone. On the walls hung posters of old 1960s rock artists, neatly framed; there was a large wall-mounted TV; on the living room table lay a couple of coffee table type art books. Jonathan appeared to be a bit of a neat freak, if the order and cleanliness of his house was any indication. He reappeared with a glass of what appeared to be whiskey in one hand, and a juice box in the other. “I thought it was more appropriate for someone your age,” he said, handing her the juice box. Eliza smiled. She was a little embarrassed, but that feeling was also turning her on a little. If this is your fix, I’ll gladly take your money and do it again some other time. She inserted the straw and began sucking on it, looking him in the eyes as she did so.
“Are you thinking dirty thoughts, little one?” He asked.
Eliza nodded. Seductively, she hoped. Jonathan appeared to be getting into the role, and this was a crucial period. If he just warmed up to the feeling of authority, and she didn’t mess up and challenge that authority until he was confident enough to put her in her place, this was going to work out very well.
“When you grow up, maybe you can do something about that, but until then, you just enjoy your juice box, sweetie,” he said.
Eliza moved closer to him, then she whispered in his ear: “May I sit on your lap?”
He pulled her in. Eliza was rather short, which no doubt played into his fantasy. There were certainly call girls out there with bigger boobs, but she had a feeling that would have been inappropriate for his particular kink.
“Now, kitten, for rule two. You are only allowed in the bathroom under the supervision of an adult. I’m very strict on that. Are we clear?”
Eliza nodded, and couldn’t help but notice a twinge in her bladder. She’d suspected something like this, but the reality of it, what it might entail, had remained a little abstract to her. “When we finish our drinks, why don’t we get you changed into something a little more appropriate?”
Shit. Fuck. “I… I didn’t bring anything,” she said.
He began stroking her hair. “Don’t worry, I’m well prepared.” She closed her eyes and allowed herself to be stroked, trying to find the calm within herself. Trying to become what he wanted her to be. “Hey, don’t fall asleep on me! It’s not bedtime yet. If you fall asleep now, I’m gonna have a hell of a time getting you to go to sleep tonight, aren’t I?”
Eliza blushed. “Sorry,” she said. “It’s just so calming when you stroke my hair.”
“Why don’t we go change right now,” Jonathan suggested. Eliza got up from his lap and offered him her hand. He took it and led her upstairs to his bedroom. On the king sized bed lay a denim romper with snaps in the crotch. And was that…? “Oh, that,” Jonathan said, following her gaze. “That’s not a problem for you, is it?” It was, indeed, a diaper. Or, rather, one of those pull-on absorbent training pants for older kids. She shook her head. It was covered in her fee, if that’s what got him going.
“That’s just in case,” Jonathan said. “Let’s leave it be for now. I know that some little girls have potty problems, but some are properly potty trained. Are you, kitten?” Eliza blushed and nodded. Of course she was. Well, fuck me. On second thought, maybe he wanted me to say no?
“Well, then. I’ll give you a chance in panties, then. Don’t disappoint me now. I don’t want to be cleaning up any puddles on the floor. Okay. Let’s get you out of those clothes, they look silly on a little girl.” He indicated for Eliza to raise her arms, and she did. Swiftly, he hoisted her Metallica t-shirt off. Then came her jeans, which she allowed him to undo, one button at a time, and then she pulled them down and stepped out of them. Eliza felt a chill in her bones. The room was a little cold, but also, this was the moment of truth. Soon she’d be naked in front of a near-total stranger who had engaged her to fulfill his sexual fantasies. Eliza had no shame about showing off her body, but there was always the possibility that—despite what they’d agreed on—Jonathan might get handsy once she stood naked in front of him. He didn’t seem like the type, though. Jonathan seemed like he genuinely wanted to care for her as if she were a child, and she didn’t think child molestation was part of the fantasy.
Jonathan walked behind her and unclasped her bra. “Little girls don’t need bras. You barely have any breasts to be holding up!” He laughed.
“Say what?” She couldn’t help it. She may be small, but those were still some premium grade boobs, mister.
“Good, good,” Jonathan said. He was in front of her now, admiring her naked chest. “I’m sorry, I’m just getting into character. And I want you to be a bit spunky, to resist me a little, you know? Little girls aren’t always well behaved.”
Eliza took the hint. She stamped a foot on the floor. “I do not have a flat chest. You’re just a big meanie.” She stuck her tongue out, to emphasize that her little outburst was part of the act.
“Watch your tongue,” Jonathan said. He sized her up. “No, those panties won’t do.” They were black silk, bikini style. “Don’t worry, I have something a little more appropriate for you.” He rummaged in a closet and found a pair of pink panties with a teddy bear print on them, and a t-shirt with the same motif. “Do you need any help, or can you put them on yourself, sweetie?”
“I… Maybe a little bit of help?” Eliza allowed him to lower her panties, giving him a glance of her pussy, but he only took a quick peek before sliding up her new panties. She shifted a little. The coffee with breakfast, then water on the way down, and then juice were all making their way to her bladder. After the panties came the t-shirt over her otherwise bare chest, and then the romper. Jonathan made sure everything fit snugly—and it did, surprisingly—but his hands didn’t linger too long in any sensitive areas. Eliza did a little pirouette to show off her new costume, which had shaved off at least six years of her apparent age, if not eight or ten. Although she was still clearly a young woman in immature clothing, she looked closer to sixteen than to twenty-four.
“Uh, about the bathroom,” Eliza said. “Could you show me the way? I kind of have to pee.”
“But you have to see all the fun stuff I’ve prepared for you!” Jonathan exclaimed. He took her hand and led her downstairs, and she offered no further protest. Perhaps he wants me to pee my pants. Perhaps he really wants an excuse to put me in diapers. Jonathan hadn’t been quite clear on what age he wanted her to be. A little girl, he’d said. A little girl to take care of. But did that mean six or two? Was she supposed to be a first grader or a babbling baby? Hopefully not the latter, because she’d be bored out of her mind if she wasn’t at least allowed to talk. And she didn’t think she could do baby convincingly, either. First grader was more like it. But was she a first grader with “potty problems?” Eliza tried to cross her legs, but Jonathan dragged her along to a room adjacent to the living room. It was more of a lounge, with bean bags and a few reclining chairs, and on one of the walls hung a canvas that looked like it might be part of a home cinema setup. There was a little table in a corner, and Jonathan led her to it. “I’ve got some coloring books, stickers, glue, and glitter. Why don’t you have some fun with that? I’ll be right here, reading a book.” He indicated one of the chairs.
“But I need to pee!” She protested. Her bladder was rather uncomfortable, and the desperation could be heard in her voice. It was a child’s whine. Inwardly, she smiled. He must be loving this.
“I was really looking forward to some quiet reading. The bathroom is upstairs. Why didn’t you say something before?”
“I did!”
“Hmm,” Jonathan said. “I must have missed it. Well, if it’s an emergency, I’ll take you. If it can wait, we’ll do it after.”
Does he want me to say I can hold it? And if I do, does he want me to actually hold it, or does he want me to have an accident? She was a little concerned about ruining the clothes he’d clearly bought just for this occasion. Surely he didn’t have more than one “little girl” uniform laying around, and if she peed in this one, well, she’d have to use her regular clothes, which might break the spell. She’d have to find a way to broach it in character.
“I’m a big girl!” She said, and pointed to herself. “I can hold it all day.” Then she crossed her legs, both because she really did need to pee, and for show. “But… Just in case I can’t, maybe I should go. I don’t want to ruin my new clothes.”
Jonathan hugged her. “Don’t you worry about that, dear,” he said. “Clothes can be washed. And there’s more where those came from.”
Eliza considered her options. In her occupation, intuition was king. She needed to be both a sex object and a mind-reader, sussing out what her clients really wanted, deep down. Going out of character unless absolutely necessary would kill the fantasy. Considering Jonathan had gone to the trouble of buying diapers for her, it would be a shame if he didn’t get to put her in them. Eliza had never done any pee play; hardcore watersports, like drinking pee or having someone pee in your face, rather disgusted her. But the idea of peeing her pants, while not something she’d ever done before, seemed rather harmless. She could maybe let out a tiny bit, just enough for it to show on her clothes, and then Jonathan would get to punish her for it. Eliza spread her legs a little and tried to think of dripping water, Niagara falls, but nothing came out. Guess I’m just too well trained, she thought.
“Okay, you can read your book,” she said. “But promise to take me soon?”
“All right, kitten,” Jonathan said.
Eliza sat down and looked over the supplies he’d given her. Frankly, coloring books and glitter and stickers looked boring as fuck. She tried to look for her inner child, but apparently it had gone into hiding. There was nothing redeeming about coloring books. But considering the pay, she’d bloody well put up with it. I could be getting fucked in the ass by a 300 pound cave dweller, she thought. Instead, I’m getting paid three times as much to have someone attend to my needs, look after me like a daughter, and all I need to do is play with glitter and try not to look bored. Eliza picked up a crayon and began coloring. She debated whether she should color outside the lines like a child, but settled on meticulously coloring within them. That way, she could at least devote a little bit of brain power to the task at hand. Maybe Jonathan would hang it on his fridge. The page she was working on had a castle with turrets, a drawbridge, a fairy and an adventurer carrying a sword. It reminded her of Ocarina of Time, so the swordsman had to be green.
She crossed and uncrossed her legs under the table. Maybe if she pushed a little on her bladder, that would be enough to squirt out a little bit, and then she could ask Jonathan to take her to the bathroom. She spread her legs and pushed on her abdomen. For a moment, her muscles resisted, but then Eliza felt her new panties warm to a trickle of pee. It was a strange feeling. She couldn’t remember the last time she peed herself. Probably when she was around the age she was playing at now. Eliza had a rather small bladder, but she’d learned early on to compensate with frequent trips to the toilet. She put a hand in her lap; it touched wet fabric. Satisfied that her little “accident” would be visible to Jonathan, she clamped shut. That is, she tried to clamp shut. But she had left the floodgates open too long, and now she couldn’t stop. Eliza let out a little yelp of despair as her ass began to get soaked. She twisted her legs and pushed on her crotch with both hands, but the pee kept coming, pooling between her legs and running up her lap and down her thighs.
Jonathan was there in a flash. “What’s wrong, sweetie?” He asked. There was genuine alarm in his voice, like he couldn’t tell if this was still pretend, or perhaps he was so deep in character that it didn’t matter.
“I…” The hiss as she peed herself was so loud in her ears, she was sure he must hear it. Perhaps he was simply too polite to say anything, or perhaps she was simply hyperaware. She waited until she was done, and then she hung her head. “I peed.”
“You peed?” Jonathan looked confused.
“It was an accident.” Eliza stood up to show him. When she did, some urine spilled over the chair and splashed on the floor. She was soaked down to her knees, and her ass was sopping wet. It was uncomfortable, perhaps mostly due to embarrassment. She had meant to pee, yes, but then she couldn’t stop and it turned into a real accident. Eliza was sure she was red as a stoplight. The embarrassment did, however, allow her to more easily slip deeper into the role. It felt natural to ask, “Can you please not be mad?”
Jonathan shook his head. “Of course I’m not mad. But I thought you said you could hold it?”
“I totally can. It was just an accident.” She looked down at the puddle she’d made. Eliza was amazed she’d managed to hold that much in the first place. “But can you please help me clean up? It’s yucky.”
Jonathan was easily a foot taller than her. Before she knew it, he’d swept her off her feet and began carrying her upstairs. “Eliza, sweetie, you should have said it was an emergency.”
“I was having too much fun playing,” she lied. Eliza buried her head in his shoulder. This was supposed to make her feel safe. Little Eliza would feel safe in Jonathan’s arms, in his shoulder. He smelled of aftershave. She closed her eyes, and again she felt the lack of proper sleep the night before catching up with her. Before she knew it, Jonathan was gently putting her down on the floor. It was a large bathroom, all in marble, with a big tub in one corner and a shower in the other. Each could fit at least two, if not three adults. Besides that there was room for a washer, drier, and toilet. She felt like she were standing in a cathedral of glass and marble. Although the downstairs rooms looked middle class, this bathroom screamed rich.
“Let’s get those icky clothes off,” Jonathan said, and began undoing her romper. His gaze lingered for a moment on her wet ass. She wiggled her bum, and he gave it a slap. “Don’t show off,” he said, although his continued staring at her told her he didn’t really mean it. “Are you proud to be going potty in your pants?”
“No, Jonathan,” she said. Is that how he wants to be addressed? Some clients preferred Sir or Master. Others had bizarre alter egos they liked to roleplay. Who was Little Eliza to him? His daughter, his niece, his student in first grade? She leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Is that what you want me to call you? Or is there something else?”
He thought for a moment. “Ideally, I’d like to be called Daddy. But I think that’s something I need to earn first. In the meantime, you can call me John or Jonathan.”
“Okay, John. Please get these icky clothes off me.” He did as asked.
“I was going to do this before bed, but I think I’m going to run you a bath. With bubbles. How does that sound?” He asked.
“I’d like that.” She was now naked, the wet clothes in a pile on the floor. Jonathan opened the faucet and began running a bath. The tub looked inviting, and she was a bit cold, so she climbed in.
“I’ll go get some dry and clean clothes. You just stay right here, pumpkin.”
Eliza leaned back and closed her eyes. Jonathan had to be the sweetest client she’d ever had, and his fantasies the most innocent. She was short, slim and just the right amount of curvy, yet her wet panties seemed to interest him more than her pussy. He clearly enjoyed looking at her, but he could be doing so much more. The roleplay seemed to be doing it for him. His comment about wanting to earn the name “Daddy” gave her a pang of guilt. Am I exploiting him? It seemed like his brand of kink required an intimate connection with another person. Although all kinky play requires a big degree of trust from both parties, many people enjoy a casual spanking. John, on the other hand, didn’t seem like the type who’d go to a BDSM party and tie someone up for the evening, then never see them again. He really just wanted a girlfriend he could cuddle at night.
Jonathan sidled up by the tub and poured something into the water, and soon enough, she was covered up by a layer of foam. “Stop me if I’m going too far,” Eliza said. “But your kink strikes me as the kind best practiced in a committed relationship.” Her eyes were still closed, and she found herself enjoying his tender touch as he began rubbing shampoo into her hair.
Jonathan sighed. “You could say that,” he said. “But there aren’t many girls out there as lovely as you.”
“That’s sweet of you to say,” she said. “But I’m sure there’s someone out there for you. Successful businessman, and probably the sweetest client I’ve had to boot.”
“I imagine you run into some brutes in your profession.”
She thought it over. No, no one had ever disrespected her boundaries. “It depends,” she said. “I’ve been careful. Maybe a little lucky. No one ever laid their hands on me—except in the ways we’d discussed beforehand. I’m not a street walker. I mean, no disrespect to those girls. I’m just saying, what they do is a lot more dangerous than what I do.” In the beginning, she relied on internet ads. Now, all her new clients were referrals. People who were recommended by someone she trusted. Jonathan had been vouched for by a business contact of hers, Jane, although she wasn’t quite clear on how they knew each other. She trusted her acquaintance, though.
“Come to think of it, how do you know Jane?” Eliza asked.
“Oh,” Jonathan said. “She’s my ex.”
“She’s your ex?” Eliza hadn’t expected that. Jane worked in the porn industry.
“Yeah. She said you might be able to, uh, fulfill the fantasies she couldn’t. I told her about my fetish. It didn’t go so well.”
“I’m sorry,” Eliza said. “Is that why you guys broke up?”
“Yes and no. It put more strain on a strained relationship. After a while we both decided it was for the best to call it quits. Well, she decided. I acquiesced.”
Eliza opened her eyes, reached over the edge of the tub and gave him a hug. Foamy water splashed all over his shirt. He didn’t seem to mind. Eliza held the hug, and then she began rubbing his back, leaving wet fingerprints on his button-down. Finally, he separated himself. His eyes were watery. He rose and attempted to straightened himself up. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m getting a little emotional. I suppose emotional isn’t in the job description.”
“No, no,” Eliza said. “It was my mistake. I pushed too far.”
He cleared his throat. “Well, little one,” he said, in an apparent attempt to regain his authority. He was really such a sweetheart. “Let’s get you dried and into some clean clothes.” He offered her a hand as she stepped out of the bathtub. Then he began rubbing her dry with a huge towel. She felt very small, like she was disappearing into the towel. He rubbed her all over to get her dry, and she felt herself getting a little aroused as he worked on her breasts and between her legs. Jonathan was just drying her off—he showed no signs of being aroused himself. But she found herself wishing he’d give a little special attention to her special areas.
Satisfied that she was dry, Jonathan turned around to pick up her new clothes. A dress, with a childish floral print in yellow. He must have gone on quite a shopping spree in preparation, she mused. “Now, pumpkin, I told you I wanted to give you a bath before bed. Remind me, why did we have to do it early?”
Eliza blushed. He wants to hear me say it. He wants to humiliate me. Humiliation, as it happened, was one of her own kinks. She loved to hate it. “Because I had an accident,” she said.
“Oh?” He looked at her expectantly. What is it he wants me to say? “What kind of accident? Did you fall and scrub your knee?”
Eliza hid her face behind the towel. She was deliciously embarrassed. “Noooo,” she said. “Not that kinda accident.”
“What kind of accident did you have, then, sweetpea?”
“In my pants.” She pointed to the wet romper and panties, still on the floor. “I peed in my pants.”
“That’s right,” Jonathan said. “You said you were a big girl, but then you couldn’t make it to the bathroom. I gave you a chance at panties, but I don’t think you’re quite big enough for them. I can’t trust that you’ll be able to keep them dry.”
“I AM a big girl!” Eliza said, stomping her foot on the ground. That was a mistake. The tiles were wet, and she slipped and lost her footing. For a terrifying moment, she saw the tiles rush up toward her head, but then Jonathan was there and grabbed her before she faceplanted into the floor.
“Careful, honey, the floor is wet,” Jonathan said. “One day you’ll be a big girl. But until then…” He held up the pull-up diaper she’d seen in his bedroom earlier.
“No fair,” Eliza said. “It was only one accident.”
“Well, just in case,” Jonathan said.
There it was. She knew what she’d signed up for, but the reality of it still hit her like a brick. Eliza had let herself be degraded for money before, but she had never imagined herself ever having to wear a diaper. And not just because she was paid to do it. No, she had actually peed her pants and earned it. She blushed again at the thought. The humiliation was getting her wet in a different way. When she began peeing, it had been on purpose. But then it wasn’t on purpose anymore. She’d really tried to stop, and found she couldn’t. In a way, she did really have an accident, just like a little girl. Does he want me to protest? He did say earlier that he wanted her to disobey. “NO,” she said. “I’m a BIG GIRL and BIG GIRLS don’t wear diapers.”
Jonathan looked at her sternly. “Do you want to earn yourself a spanking, little missy?” He didn’t raise his voice, but his tone said that he wasn’t kidding.
“FINE,” Eliza said, in her best petulant child voice. “But only this once. And I’m going to prove to you that I don’t need it.”
“Very well,” Jonathan said. He looked down at his watch. “It’s only 3 PM. If you can keep this one dry until seven, you can have panties for the rest of the night.” Four hours? She could do that. He helped her step into the diaper and slid it up her hips. The feeling of padding between her legs was odd, but the shape of it was more like a pair of extra-thick panties than a diaper. She gingerly took a few steps. There was a soft rustle as she walked, but it was barely audible. She could feel the fabric absorbing some moisture from between her legs.
“Now, this one isn’t very thick. It’s made for little girls who are potty training. So you need to tell me when you need to go potty, because this diaper can’t take a flood like the one you unleashed in your pants.” Touché. “And it’s very important that you tell me if you need to go number two, because this one is only designed for pee.”
Number two? Good god. The thought of it had her reeling. Peeing was one thing, she could do that. But under no circumstances would she have anything to do with poop. She had a strong anti-scat policy. “Yes, John,” she said. “I’m going to tell you when I need to go.” It occurred to her that the toilet was off limits without “adult supervision.” Did he expect her to poop while he watched? Open as she was about her body, she didn’t think she could do that. She’d just have to hold it if it came to that.
Chapter 2: Medium Rare
Jonathan helped her into the dress, and she twirled around, giving him a peek upskirt. He nodded. “You look stunning,” he said.
“Thank you.” He led her hand in hand downstairs. “Are you hungry yet?” He asked. “I could go for some food right about now.” Her stomach grumbled in sympathy. She hadn’t eaten since early that morning.
“Sure,” Eliza said.
“I was thinking steak and pepper sauce,” said John. “It’s a little early for such a heavy meal, so maybe we should stretch it an hour, but I haven’t eaten since breakfast, so I’d like to eat soon. You know, I would take you to a nice restaurant, but we agreed not to go out in public.”
Eliza nodded. “Maybe some other time.” Seeding another appointment, she thought. It was somewhat cynical of her, but she felt it was entirely natural. She was only being honest. “You’re welcome to take me out, but we’d have to suspend the roleplay. But I don’t mind a nice home-cooked meal.”
Jonathan smiled. “I’m an excellent cook.”
“Maybe we could just cuddle and watch some TV to kill time,” Eliza suggested. “I love it when you stroke my hair.”
Jonathan seated himself on the coach and switched on some mindless reality show. The kind where there is no real goal, except for the contestants to back-stab each other as much as possible—when they’re not having sex, and solemnly swearing they never imagined they would be doing it on television, it just happened, because he or she’s the one. Eliza curled up beside him, and he obediently began stroking her hair. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine that he was her boyfriend, a trick she used whenever a client wanted romance rather than straight sex. It wasn’t hard to see this kind, caring and wealthy bachelor as a partner in another life. Eliza had a strict policy of separating business and pleasure—it wasn’t like she were actually falling for him. But with closed eyes, she could pretend. When she lay still, she hardly even noticed the difference in her underwear, but whenever she moved, the padding pushed into her and reminded her of what a little girl she was supposed to be.
Before she knew it, she was dreaming. The imagery faded as soon as Jonathan nudged her awake, but it had been a pleasant dream. “Hey, I didn’t say you could nap,” John said.
Eliza rubbed her eyes. “Sorry. I guess I didn’t sleep much last night. I’ll be a good girl and go to sleep for bedtime, that’s a promise.”
“I think it’s time for dinner,” John said. “Would you like to continue coloring for me, or would you like to help me cook?”
She told him she wanted to cook. Eliza had had enough coloring for one day. She needed some kind of stimulation. Pleasant though it was, life as a little girl was rather boring. One downside of her more romantic appointments was that they didn’t provide the same level of excitement as a sexual session. Her clients rarely knew how to inject excitement into a date. But as soon as she’d finished that train of thought, John was over her, pinning her down on the coach, and then he was tickling her. “Eeee!” She squeaked. It was unexpected, but she didn’t protest. She tried to contort her body so he couldn’t get to her most ticklish spots, but he was devious. One fake maneuver toward her armpits, and then he was lifting up the front of her dress, and for a moment she thought he was going to stick a hand down her diaper—but then he was blowing raspberries on her stomach, and Eliza couldn’t help but laugh. When she did, she let down her defenses up top, and he started on her armpits, the most ticklish spot on her body.
“Aaaah!” She said, laughing all the while. “Stop! Stop! I’m gonna pee!” She struggled to close her legs, but then he was tickling her under her feet, and she had to open them, and almost kicked him in the nose, barely missing his glasses. “I mean it! I’m ahhhahaaa—I’m gonna pee myself!”
He let up. “Let’s get you to the bathroom before it’s too late, then,” he said.
Eliza was red-faced and panting, exhausted from the assault of tickles. Her breath was heavy, and her chest was hurting from all the laughing, but her smile was genuine. None of her clients ever got into tickle fights with her. Hell, it was even a little bit hot. She’d experimented with forced orgasms using a vibrator and a willing, non-paid partner, and tickling was similarly painful and pleasant at the same time. But she didn’t want to pee herself. Eliza wanted to prove to John that she could last until seven. A little silly, she realized. She was an adult and had never peed her pants by accident, not since she was a toddler. Big Eliza, the sex worker, had nothing to prove. But Little Eliza certainly did, after her embarrassing accident earlier.
“I don’t really need to go,” she managed, after she regained her breath. “It’s just when you tickle me, I can’t control it.”
“Well, let’s try anyway. I can’t leave the kitchen once the plates are hot and things are cooking to take you to the bathroom, now can I? Here is a potty training lesson. When you know you won’t be able to go to the potty for a while, it’s smart to go before, just in case.” He offered a hand and led her upstairs. She followed, a light rustling of her underwear probably only audible to herself.
“Okay, down she goes,” John said, lowering her pull-up, “and up she goes!” Eliza allowed herself to be hoisted up on the toilet. “See if you can make a little tinkle for me.”
She tried, but nothing came out. Eliza wasn’t normally pee shy, but something about the situation made her clam up. “I can’t,” she said.
“Maybe if I turn on the tap?” John offered. Eliza closed her eyes and listened to the stream of water splashing into the sink. Finally, a slight tinkle began. “Good girl!” John said. “Now, do you know how to wipe, Eliza?”
Of course she did. And they had agreed on no touching in that area. Eliza found herself aching for some touch down there. The whole evening had been a long series of humiliations, and that was the sort of stuff that got her going. She’d never imagined herself being into this stuff, and to be honest, she couldn’t ever see herself roleplaying a little girl for her own pleasure. But the roleplay did facilitate humiliation, and that had her loins all wet and slippery. No. It might set a bad precedent. We’ll have to renegotiate. On the other hand… She did say no unnecessary touching of privates, did she not? What if it were necessary? She did allow him to clean her in the bath and dry her off, all over her body.
“Uh… Maybe you could show me?” She bit her lip and looked him in the eye. For a brief moment, he blushed, a little flustered, but then he was back in control.
“Of course, baby,” John said. “It’s very important that you keep clean down there, so you don’t get any nasty infections. You don’t want that, do you, Eliza?”
She shook her head.
John ceremoniously grabbed a piece of toilet paper. It was four-ply, premium quality, soft as silk. Eliza considered expensive toilet paper to be literally throwing money down the toilet, so she always went for the cheap stuff. Apparently, she didn’t know what she was missing. When John wiped her down, it was like being wrapped in a blanket of good emotions. “Teehee, it tickles,” she said.
“Oh,” said John. “I don’t think little girls need to think about that.”
Eliza was a little disappointed. “There, all done,” John said, and helped her slide the diaper up her hips. “Now let’s go cook some dinner.”
They entered a kitchen decked out with all the newest in stainless steel and Swedish design. It looked like something out of an unusually upscale IKEA catalog. There was a double-door refrigerator, two hypermodern stoves with electronic displays and more dials and buttons than Eliza’s laptop. “I’m afraid little girls and hot stoves don’t go well together,” John said. “But you can ready the table. Plates are over there,” he indicated the top of a tall cabinet, “and cutlery over there.”
Eliza tried to reach the shelf, but even on the tips of her toes, she wasn’t tall enough. The kitchen was clearly designed for someone John’s size. “I can’t reach up there,” she said.
“Silly me,” John said. He grabbed some plates and glasses, and she decked out the table. Then he kept her busy grabbing ingredients and explaining every step of the cooking process, just as if she were in grade school. It wasn’t the world’s most complicated meal, and Eliza was sure she could’ve managed it on her own. But she allowed him to teach her.
The meal was delicious. Medium rare steak, pepper sauce and cooked potatoes. Anything would have been good at this stage; it was close to five and she hadn’t eaten since around nine in the morning. But John wasn’t lying when he said he was a good cook.
Eliza tried to imagine herself as a young child. She deliberately missed with her fork, allowing some sauce to spill onto her face. Once she was done eating, John playfully scolded her for being a messy eater, and wiped it all away. “We’ll have to teach you some table manner,” he said, and laughed.
With the weight of a full belly, her tiredness returned. She wasn’t sure if she could keep her promise of staying awake until bedtime. When was that, anyway?
John led them back into the living room. She curled up on the coach, and he handed her a blanket. Eliza yawned. “I’m gonna stay awake, promise,” she said, by way of apology. He sat down beside her.
“It wasn’t easy,” John said. “Telling my ex about this fetish.” He stroked her hair. It was auburn, flowing down to her chest in curlicues. “I always knew, kind of. I always enjoyed caring for my baby brother, but not in a sexual way, of course. And then when I hit my teens, I would see these cute girls, and the guys would be like, ‘Damn, I’d like to fuck her.’ Behind her back, of course. And I’d go, ‘Yeah, man, you got it.’ But inwardly I’d be thinking, ‘I’d love to take her home, kiss her forehead and tuck her in.’”
“So it isn’t sexual at all for you?” Eliza said.
Jonathan blushed.
“Don’t think I haven’t caught you looking at me that way,” Eliza said. “It’s no big deal. I’m hiring out my body, after all. Feel free to think any dirty thoughts you want, as long as you don’t act out anything we didn’t agree on.”
He resumed stroking her hair. “Oh, Eliza. I have to admit, you’re stunning. And I could see myself in bed with you, having some adult fun. But I’m perfectly happy caring for you without touching you inappropriately. The truth is, when I look at you right now, I see a child and a woman at the same time. I’m attracted to the woman as a woman to do man-and-woman stuff with, and to the child as a child to care for.”
Eliza sat up. She didn’t want to pry into his evidently difficult feelings toward his ex, but he was the one to bring it up. She was curious. “So I take it your ex didn’t take the news very well?”
“I was a stuttering mess. I think if I’d proudly stated my preferences like they were no big deal, maybe things would have gone over differently. But I acted like I was ashamed of it, and so she assumed it was shameful.”
Eliza nodded. “Yeah,” she said, her sleepiness somewhat slurring her words and dragging them out. “I find that people almost always adopt the attitude that you project to the world. Act confident, they will see you as confident. Act ashamed, they will assume you have good reason for it and pile on with the shaming.”
“Jane told me maybe she could help me get over it,” John said. “Maybe there was some other fantasy we could act out that would make me forget all about little girls and diapers and all that. She offered anal. She even hinted that a threesome might be on the horizon, she had some open-minded friends—Jane is in the porn biz, after all. But once it became clear that it wasn’t a phase and it wasn’t something that would ever go away, it became a constant source of conflict. She just couldn’t deal with the fact that I was fantasizing about her as a little girl—I mean, as an adult acting like one, not that I was jerking off to her childhood portraits or something.”
“I’m sorry,” said Eliza.
“But she led me to you,” Jonathan said. “Jane told me you might be open to something like this.”
“I’m all yours, until tomorrow morning.”
Suddenly, his hand was under her skirt. He pushed against the dry padding of her crotch, but then he withdrew his hand as quickly as he put it up there. “Just checking,” he said. “Don’t want you leaking on the couch.”
Eliza wiggled free of him. “I’m a big girl and I don’t need this thing,” she said, lifting her skirt to indicate the diaper. The bottom of her breasts peaked out, giving him a nice little underboob look. “I told you, I’m gonna keep dry until seven.”
“We’re almost there, kitten. Just tell me if you need to go potty.”
They sat in silence for a while on the coach. Again, Eliza’s eyes drooped, and she had to fight for them to stay open. “Hey, could you make some coffee or something? I’m almost falling asleep here,” Eliza said.
“I would, but not so close to bedtime. I don’t want my baby all hyper when she’s supposed to go to sleep.”
Eliza sank back into the couch.
“I can tell you’re bored. We’re supposed to have fun! Don’t you forget that. Little girls are allowed to be fussy if they’re understimulated. Not too fussy, of course, or I’ll have to take them over the knee,” John added. “Look, it’s almost seven o’clock. Come with me to the bathroom. If your pull-up is still dry, we can forget about your accident earlier”—a blush, at that—“and go back to panties. Come with me.”
Eliza stayed where she was. She felt as if she’d eaten a pot brownie, and now she was couchlocked. If only she had some sleep the night before. She’d been worried about finances. Her landlord had hiked up the rent, and if John had decided to cancel on her for some reason, she’d have been shit out of luck. She saw now that she needn’t have worried. His fee alone would cover a month’s rent and more, but she couldn’t have known that he wouldn’t back out. A few of her clients had done that. The idea of hiring a prostitute sounded appealing, but when it came to it, they didn’t have it in them. Society at large still frowns upon the practice, no matter how consensual it is. What she did was technically illegal, although her operation was luxurious and professional enough that, in practice, she was largely safe from law enforcement. But some of her clients, like John, were upper class with a reputation to protect. Some were so worried about being blackmailed, they demanded video footage of her conducting the transaction, themselves conveniently off screen, in order to have some dirt on her. Eliza refused such requests, of course. But no matter the validity of her concerns, they’d kept her up at night, and now she didn’t want to do anything but close her eyes and drift into sleep.
John picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. He was surprisingly strong for his lanky build. Then again, she was petite. John set her down in front of the toilet. “Okay, Eliza. Moment of truth. Did you have an accident, or are you still dry?”
“Still dry,” Eliza said, although her gaze was on the floor.
“Then you wouldn’t mind if I check?” He asked.
Eliza lifted her dress in response. John slipped a finger into the side of her diaper, although his fingers never strayed toward her pussy. “Almost completely dry,” He said.
“I was turned on for a bit,” Eliza said. “That doesn’t count.”
“I suppose not,” John said. “Okay. Do you want panties for the rest of the night?”
Eliza nodded. John disappeared for a moment, although he stopped in the doorway to assure her he wasn’t leaving her alone for more than a minute, as if she were a child with separation anxiety.
Once he was back, he made her try to pee in the toilet again. This time, she managed a little trickle without the aid of a running tap. Then he slipped on her panties, and a little bit of her adulthood was restored. The used diaper went in a separate trash can, she noted. John really was prepared for everything.
Eliza’s eyes were drooping. “John, please, I really need that coffee if I’m going to stay awake,” she said. “Pretty please? Just a little cup.”
“No,” he said plainly. “And I don’t want to hear any more about it. Stop nagging.”
Eliza stopped and resisted his attempt to lead her onwards. “Please,” she said again. “I’m so tired. Don’t you want me to stay awake and play with you?”
“Enough,” John said.
She tried one last time. “Please?”
John turned around. His demeanor had changed. His size advantage had made him feel like a big, strong protector, but now it felt like a threat. Eliza took a step back. His face was red, his mouth contorted into a frown. “Enough is enough. You will go stand in the corner for twenty minutes, and if I hear as much as a peep from you, you’re going over the knee. Is that clear?”
Eliza gave an uncertain nod. She had awakened the beast. Eliza hadn’t seen this side of John before. One part of her was terrified; the other, secretly excited. He was finally warming up to the role of the Dominant in their scene. “But what if I need to go to the bathroom?” Eliza asked. “May I speak then?”
“You just went,” he said curtly. “You can hold it for twenty minutes. You were so eager to prove that you belong in panties, so here’s your chance. Come to think of it, I don’t want you to get dehydrated. I’ll bring you a bottle of water, and I expect you to finish it by the time your timeout’s up.”
Time passed glacially in the corner. She stared at the off-white wall and tried to distract herself with happy thoughts, occasionally taking a sip of water. It was no use. Her punishment was boredom, and she deserved it. Little Eliza had pushed it too far. Although her eyes drooped, standing up kept her awake. She attempted to sit down, thinking perhaps she could sneak in a powernap while John wasn’t watching, but he told her to stand up immediately.
Eliza was frustrated, tired, and now her stomach was starting to hurt, too. What do babies do when they’re sick and tired and want to get their will? They cry. Eliza wasn’t much of an actor—well, that wasn’t true. She was very good at inhabiting the roles her clients wanted her to play, but that was the extent of her abilities. Eliza couldn’t cry on command. But right now, she felt very much the fussy baby, and focusing on her tired and frustrated state made her all the more upset. Once she added in the mental image of her true love dumping her—that was long ago, before she stopped believing there was one and only one person out there for her—she managed a little sniffle, and soon tears were rolling down her cheeks. Quickly, John was beside her.
“Baby, don’t cry. What is it?” He said. His tone had changed from stern to paternal concern.
“I’m tired. My tummy hurts. I don’t want to stand in this stupid corner anymore,” she said, between sniffles. All of which was true. That part wasn’t an act.
John looked her over. She was standing there in a juvenile summer dress, the one he had put her in after she peed in her first outfit of the day (second, really, since he had removed the one she came in). She had puffy eyes and drying tears down her cheeks. The sight of her so miserable seemed to break through his defenses. John squatted down beside her and gave her a hug. “Now, now, don’t cry, sweet child. I think you’ve learned your lesson about disobeying me. Haven’t you, kitten?”
“Yes, Daddy,” Eliza said.
Chapter 3: Sub Drop
Eliza didn’t know why she said it, but it seemed natural. John wanted to earn the title “daddy,” and in her eyes, he’d done so. His punishment and his compassion tipped the scales. John had shown all the qualities of a good Dom, and he’d picked them up quickly and naturally. Although she had never called a partner “daddy,” before—her preferred nomenclature in a BDSM scene being Sir or Master—if that was what, to him, represented the same as those names represented to her previous partners, then Daddy it was.
John separated himself from her for a moment. “Oh, baby,” he said. “Come on out of the corner. I think we can call an early bedtime soon, since you’re already tired and fussy. But there’s one more thing I want to do before bed. I’d like to read you a bedtime story. How does that sound?”
“I’d love that,” she said, and added, “Daddy.”
He led her upstairs to the bedroom. Then he bent down and rummaged under the bed. When he emerged, he held a large adult diaper, with a yellow stripe going up the crotch. “Now, you’ve been very good at going potty today, but you did have an accident earlier,” John said. “I know some little girls have trouble at night, so I think it’s best if we take our precautions. Do you know what the word ‘precautions’ means, sweetie?”
Eliza shook her head. “No, daddy.”
“It means we think about what might happen in the future, and then we do something to mitigate—to limit the damage if that thing were to happen. You’re so tired, I’m afraid you’ll fall asleep while I read you a story. Will you be a good girl and let me put it on you for bed?”
Eliza nodded. He laid out a towel on the bed, and she laid down. John slipped off her panties, and then he set to work on the diaper. He’d procured a white powder from somewhere, and proceeded to put some over her crotch, “to prevent rashes,” he said. Then he carefully taped her up and slipped off her dress. “This one’s designed to take anything you can throw at it and more. I have a washable mattress pad, too, so don’t worry about having an accident. You won’t ruin anything.”
Now she was sitting naked apart from a bulging adult diaper between her legs, in front of a man she met less than twenty-four hours ago. “I have some pajamas for you,” John said.
“I prefer to sleep in the nude,” Eliza said.
“Okay, pumpkin.”
Eliza looked down at the padding between her legs. This diaper was bulkier than the previous one, and its size made it impossible for her to ignore. Every movement, even lying completely still, it was there to remind her of how little Eliza was. “This one is boring,” Eliza said, pointing to the diaper. “Can we put stickers on it?”
“Excellent idea,” John said. “Let me just—”
But before he could do anything, Eliza had slipped off the bed and began running downstairs to grab the glittery stickers she’d been so reluctant to play with earlier. The diaper gave her a slight waddle, but she managed all right. On the way up, she met John in the stairwell.
“I don’t like it when you run off like that,” he said.
“I brought the stickers!” Eliza shoved them in his face. John grabbed them, then her, and carried both back into the bedroom. Eliza nuzzled into his neck and allowed her mind to drift, her consciousness to whittle down, and she was all but sleeping when he put her back into bed. John nudged her, and she woke up enough to grab a handful of stickers, placing them haphazardly on her diaper. It looked ridiculous. Very appropriate for Little Eliza.
John began reading her a fairy tale. Little Red Riding hood, with sound effects when the terrible wolf showed up. He rubbed her tummy as he read, and soon her eyes were closed, and then she was asleep.
It must be early morning when she woke. Jonathan was sleeping by her side. The room was too dark to see anything but rough outlines. Her crotch was hot and sweaty. But what woke her up was her stomach. The pain was back in force. There was no denying it. Eliza needed to poop.
She had a dilemma. Jonathan had laid down the rules: she wasn’t allowed to use the bathroom without his supervision. But she couldn’t see herself pooping in front of him. She just couldn’t. Eliza’s mind was locked and set. It was a mental block, but those are often harder than the physical ones. She didn’t think she could bear him looking at her, hearing her, smelling her go number two. On the other hand, she was hired to obey the rules. Bathroom control was within the limits of their agreement. Eliza was a professional. She had yet to break a contract and disobey the rules she’d agreed to obey, unless the other party broke their end of the deal first. This was a special case. Maybe she could sneak off and go while Jonathan was asleep. But then there was the issue of the diaper. She would have to remove it, of course. Eliza knew nothing about how adult diapers work, but as a general rule, tapes don’t stick as well once you untape them, if they stick at all. Maybe she could snag another diaper from the pack—surely there was a pack with more where this one came from—and hide the used one deep in a trashcan somewhere. He’d never notice.
Her stomach rumbled. She felt a pressure down there, had to squirm a bit to contain it. Eliza wasn’t sure if she could last until morning. The contract was twenty-four hours, do whatever you want to me and make me do anything you want, as long as it’s within the rules we agreed to. She’d arrived at eleven. Although there was a clock in the room, Eliza estimated that it couldn’t be much more than five in the morning, if that. Six more hours of this? It hurt, it was uncomfortable, it made her squirm. Eliza had to do something.
Silently, she slipped out of bed. Only a slight rustle between her legs betrayed her, but a snore from John confirmed that he didn’t notice a thing. Eliza got on her knees and rummaged around under the bed until she found her prize: a big pack of adult diapers. She snagged one out of the pack and pushed it back under the bed. Then there were the stickers. She must not forget them. John would be sure to check her in the morning. He seemed very fond of the checks. They afforded a legitimate reason to touch her between the legs, and even if he never strayed too far, she could tell he enjoyed it.
Silent as a mouse—a diaper-rustling mouse—Eliza tip-toed out of the bedroom, heading for the bathroom. When she reached the right door, a cramp hit her, and she had to bend down, diapered rump in the air, and clutch her abdomen. The cramp subsided, and she was able to stand up again.Why, oh why didn’t I add a “no poop” clause? The truth was, she hadn’t given the idea of actually using the diapers much thought beforehand, and it hadn’t occurred to her that she might need to go number two.
Eliza reached for the door. Locked. Fucking cock-sucking ass-licking satanic bullshit fuck fuck fuck. Her train of thought descended into a series of profanities and violent images. She banged on the door, knowing, of course, that no one was there. If anything, it would wake John up and her plan would fall to pieces. Defeated, she slid down onto the floor, clutching her stomach. Although she was in pain, she was also sleep deprived, still. Her eyes began to droop, and soon she was floating in and out of terrible dreams. Monsters were out to get her. Even worse, there were rows of toilet stalls, but every single one of them was empty. Not even a sign of plumbing, just empty toilet stalls, mocking her.
“Baby, what are you doing out here?”
Eliza was confused. It took her a minute to reorient herself. She was flat out on her stomach, on the carpet in front of the locked bathroom. Her padded butt was sticking up, and her joints hurt from lying in such an uncomfortable position. Her tummy hurt. Through sleepy eyes, she resolved the image of John, a shadowy figure that became clearer as he hoisted her to her feet. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He repeated.
Eliza didn’t even realize it, but she must have been crying. John held her in his arms, and she leaned in. Then another cramp hit, and she pushed away from him, arching her back and clenching with all her might. “My tummy hurts,” she said.
“Oh, sweetie, do you need to go to the toilet? Why didn’t you say so?”
“I don’t,” Eliza said. Her posture and potty dance belied her statement.
“Then why is your hand on your butt?” He said.
She had no answer to that.
“Come on, I’ll unlock the toilet and then you can go. I don’t want you to be in pain.”
“I can’t,” she said.
“Nonsense! It’s no trouble.”
Eliza shook her head. “It was just a bad dream. I sleepwalked. The tummy pain went away.” She was so close to relief, yet so far.
“What’s this, then?” John picked up the fresh diaper from the floor.
“I sleepwalked,” Eliza whispered again.
“Okay.” John had a look of gentle concern. “Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to go to the bathroom?”
She shook her head.
“All right, baby. It’s only six, and a Sunday. I want to sleep in, at least until half past seven. That hardly qualifies as sleeping in, I guess, but you’re already awake. If you can manage it, I’d like to go back and slumber in bed for a while. I promise, I’ll protect you from bad dreams.” But will you protect me from pooping my pants? Five hours. Just five hours.
When she nodded in assent, he scooped her from the floor and carried her back to bed. Eliza tried to close her eyes and sleep, but the pressure in her abdomen and further down was too much. John seemed to be a deep sleeper, quick to fall asleep and sleep well. Before she knew it, he was snoring again. Eliza rubbed her stomach and wiggled around. No position was any good. No matter what she did, it hurt. She could only think of the toilet. The money. Yes. She could think about that instead. Her rent paid, with some extra spending money on top. All she had to do was not fuck up on the home stretch. Money. Toilet. Poop. Roses. No. Rent. Rules. Professional. Obey. Roses. Poop. Toilet. Obey. OBEY!
Eliza didn’t know how long she’d been lying there, fighting a desperate fight against her body and its natural needs. She wiggled, grabbed herself, clenched and fought. Her eyes were droopy, but every time she was about to slip into sleep, another cramp woke her up. The cramps were getting more frequent, and harder to fight. Then there was an enormous pressure, starting in her tummy, a painful push that stung like a bee, then fastened around her midsection as if there were a fist squeezing her from the inside. Tears were forming in her eyes, and the pain continued. Eliza arched her back and lifted her butt to alleviate the pressure, and now it was spreading, downwards, pushing towards her colon. The pressure was now localized, and the pain was unbearable. Her poor muscles. Roses. No. OBEY!
Eliza lost the fight. With her diapered ass raised, her body pushed, whether she wanted it to or not. The mess began slipping out her back, pushing against the padding and spreading outward, then drooping down. The pain lessened with each push, and she was so tired of it, so out of it, she willed herself to push harder, anything to make the pain stop. As she continued emptying herself out back, her bladder gave out as well, and a warmth spread in her front, further lessening the pressure. The pee spread up her crack, soaking into the thirsty material, and pushed back to meet up with the mess in the back. Utterly devastated and defeated, Eliza sank down and felt the mush squish further out into her back. Then the smell hit her. An awful stink, impossibly to ignore. A hundred farts in one. Eliza almost gagged. The pain was gone, but now it was replaced by shame.
What she’d just done was on the top three list of her hard NO’s. There was no way in hell she was ever incorporating poop into anything sexual. Two of her clients had asked, and she’d taken to handing out a sheet with a list of what she would very much like to do, what she was open to, and at the bottom, the things she would under no circumstances do, whether the price was a penny or the Tower of London. Never. It was her own stupid fault, too. Her stupid block about pooping in front of someone—even in public bathrooms, alone in a stall, she couldn’t do it, she’d rather be in pain until she was home—and her stupid professional pride. ROSES. That was all she’d have to say, and Jonathan would suspend the play and allow her to go do her business in peace. There was no doubt in Eliza’s mind that he’d comply instantly. Everything she’d seen from him indicated that he was one of the good guys. Eliza lay there, silent, not wanting to deal with what she’d inevitably have to deal with. Maybe if she ignored it, it would all go away.No. That’s Little Eliza talking. Your problems don’t disappear if you hide your face behind a stuffed animal.
Eliza didn’t know if it was the smell or her whimpers, but John woke up, and instantly, he knew.
“Oh no,” was the first thing he said. “Oh, Eliza, sweetie.”
He took her in his arms and held her, for a long time. Eliza attempted to mumble “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so stupid,” into his chest, but he shushed her and pacified her with little whispers and strokes of her hair. She didn’t have to think of anything sad to bring tears to her eyes. John wiped her tears away, and then he got out of bed. The smell filled the room like a cloud of shame.
“Let’s get you cleaned up right away,” John said. Quickly, he had his supplies ready, and then her butt was on a towel. He set about removing the tapes. The front was soaked, a blue stripe pointing to her belly button where a yellow one had been. John had her lift her butt into the air, and then he carefully slid the soiled diaper out from under her. Eliza didn’t dare to look at the mess. She closed her eyes as he used the front of the diaper to wipe away some of the dirtiness smeared all over her butt, and then he set about cleaning her with a bunch of wet wipes. The cold wipes gave her goosebumps. But the way he was cleaning her, the careful motions around her holes… Stupid brain. It was turning her on. Behind the shame was a layer of excitement. Eliza loved to be humiliated, but only on her own terms. Now that the acute phase of the shame was fading, she could see how this was the ultimate humiliation. An adult woman, pooping and peeing in her diaper and helplessly crying for Daddy to clean her up. No. This is stupid. It’s shameful. It’s no fun. It’s a hard limit, for fuck’s sake. And yet his motions were making her wet. It’s just mechanical stimulation. That’s it. Just like forced orgasms with a vibrator. Just like some rape victims get wet, and yet they hate it. Not that this is anything like rape—John isn’t doing anything he isn’t allowed to. He could be doing so much more to me right now. No. That was crazy talk. Bad precedent. Fucked up.
“I’m so sorry it came to this,” John said. “This isn’t acting, is it? You’re genuinely upset.”
Eliza nodded. His tone was soothing, like a real father talking to his infant daughter, although the words coming out of his mouth were those of one adult talking to another. “I’m sorry,” he repeated.
“No, it’s my stupid fault,” she said. “I could have said the safeword. I could have, but I didn’t. It’s just… I can’t do that in front of others. But then I ended up…” Her voice broke and she trailed off.
“I’m so sorry.” He was still cleaning her. Was she really that dirty? Eliza didn’t dare look. If she looked down and saw the mess with her own eyes, she might break down and cry again. Her back was arching a little more than it needed to. Willing or not, the stimulation was working.
“In the future, we’ll have to make a clause about situations like this.”
“In the future?” Eliza was surprised. She’d have thought he’d be too disgusted—that he was just being kind because he felt guilty, hiding his true feelings.
“I’m having the time of my life—I mean, I don’t enjoy seeing you hurt like this. I just mean, yesterday in general. You and me. I’d love to meet up again in the future. Hell, I’ll double the price, if that’s what it takes.”
Eliza opened her eyes. A peek downstairs: she was clean, and the dirty diaper was gone, hidden somewhere she wouldn’t see it. She certainly wasn’t about to go looking. He was still cleaning her, still tickling her in all the right places, but it seemed like he was doing it absentmindedly. John wasn’t turning her on on purpose, not for her pleasure or his. He was simply moving the wet wipe around as he was talking to her. Eliza thought for a moment. “Let’s say a 50 percent price hike,” she said. “That is, if you’re really not disgusted and just saying that to make me feel better. I can tell you’re a good guy.” A little moan escaped, and she reflexively covered her mouth. John didn’t seem to notice.
“Disgusted? Little one, how could I ever be disgusted by you? You’re the cutest girl in the universe.” Eliza blushed. Am I really lying here, enjoying this? Some of her clients were handsome businessmen—workouts five days a week, muscular chests, abs, pecs, biceps—probably too busy with their sixty hour work weeks to go out on the town and pick up a hot chick, although they certainly would be able to. She wasn’t foreign to the idea that paid sex could be good sex, for her too. Eliza had gotten into the business because she was a sexual creature, constantly craving stimulation. But to be so utterly degraded and yet to feel so good at the same time…
“You’re adorable,” John said. He was finally finished wiping, and taped her up in a new diaper as a matter of course. Eliza didn’t protest. Of course she should be diapered. She’d just emptied her bowels and bladder in her underwear. “You know what, I think we deserve breakfast in bed. How about some bacon and eggs?”
Eliza didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts. “Daddy,” she said. “Daddy, please don’t leave me.”
“Oh, sweetie.” He climbed into bed beside her. As he did, she noticed for the first time that he was hard. It was impossible to hide in his tight-fitting boxers. Oh, well. What did she expect? Wasn’t she here to turn him on and fulfill his fantasies? “I think you should sleep a little more, kitten. I’ll stay here until you fall asleep, and then I’ll make breakfast and wake you up when it’s ready. Okay?”
She nodded. He put her head on his chest and she closed her eyes. Soon, she was drifting into sleep. She didn’t wake up when he slid out of bed, and he had to shake her gently to return her to the world of the waking. John had set two wooden trays on the covers, and on them, plates with bacon and eggs and white bread, and a glass of orange juice on the side. Eliza dug in. The smell of her mess was gone, replaced with a mix of something flowery—she suspected John had sprayed something in the air—and the delicious smell of warm, crispy bacon. Eliza wasn’t a vegetarian, exactly, but she mostly ate vegetables and fruit, rice and whole-grain bread. It helped her figure. Now she’d have two big meaty meals in one night and morning. Perhaps the steak was what had upset her stomach; or perhaps it was just the natural need to void after a certain time had passed. The bacon and the steak the night before reminded Eliza of how delicious meat could be.
“So,” said John. “It’s been quite a day, hasn’t it? I can’t believe you’ve taken to the role so well. I was afraid, well… I’ll admit, I’ve tried to get other partners to get into it. Never admitted the full extent of my fetish until, well, until Jane. But I’ve done, like, schoolgirl roleplay with previous exes. None of them managed to get really into it. You could always tell they were a bit uncomfortable with it. But you…” He stroked her hair. It felt so, so good when he did it. Almost better than some orgasms she’d had. Warm affection trumped cold hedonism, sometimes. “You,” John continued, “despite the unfortunate mishap earlier, you’ve almost convinced me you’re really my little girl.”
“That’s what you pay for,” Eliza said, munching on a strip of bacon.
“Don’t talk with food in your mouth. It’s rude.”
Instantly, she was back to Little Eliza. “Sorry, Daddy.” She felt as if she’d swam to the surface, up to herself, her real self, only for someone to yank her back underwater.
“As I was saying,” John continued, brushing some strands of hair from her face, “you really know what you’re doing.”
Yes, she did. She also knew her limits well, and not to push too far past them. Certainly not with a client. A regular partner, perhaps, but to a client, she must always be in control. This was no time to expand your horizons.
“Rmphoses,” she mumbled.
“What was that?”
“Roses,” Eliza said, bacon and eggs clear of her mouth. There was no panic in her voice: she said it as if she were chatting about the weather.
John recoiled. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No, no,” Eliza said. “It’s just, I’m exhausted. I think the humiliation earlier was a little much. It wasn’t supposed to be part of the scene. I’m a little…” She sunk down into the pillows, almost toppling the glass of juice in the process. “Have you heard of sub drop?”
John shook his head.
“When a submissive has a particularly overwhelming emotional or physical experience during a scene, the release is like getting high. Like shooting heroin, almost. Not that I’ve ever done that, I just mean, it’s a feeling of infinite pleasure. But then there’s the comedown. You’re exhausted, spent, and suddenly all the negative thinking, all the prejudice and condemnation of society hits you like a brick. The terrible things you’ve been made to do or had done to you are just terrible, and no fun anymore. The submissive may get depressed, scared, anxious. That’s when you need to stop the scene and move on to aftercare. I think the breakfast in bed was a nice touch, it helps normalize things. You’re a natural.” Her throat was getting dry. She was used to delivering monologues—she had a whole spiel about safe, sane and consensual that she presented to most clients, unless her intuition told her it was unnecessary. She hadn’t delivered it to John. But now she was tired, and it was hard to focus. Usually, the words flowed out of her, but this time, she had to struggle to find them and arrange them in the correct order. “But it’s time to drop the roleplay. Let’s just be adults for the rest of our morning together, okay? I’m really sorry I couldn’t keep it up for the whole twenty-four hours. If not for my… my… the accident, it would have been no problem.”
Jonathan nodded. “Of course. Of course. Don’t think I’m gonna dock you in pay or anything. Let’s get you out of that diaper. I mean, sorry. You’re a grown woman, Eliza. Of course you can change out of your own diaper.”
She blushed. Eliza had almost forgotten about the bulk between her legs. At first, the dry and clean padding had felt heavenly, but then she’d gotten caught up in bacon and eggs. “I’m not quite done,” she said. Eliza imagined a waterfall and pushed. A little warm trickle seeped out into her diaper. It wasn’t much, but she could feel the wetness. Jonathan watched intently, although the diaper was hidden under the covers. “I’m wet,” Eliza announced. “I’d appreciate it if you’d clean me up before I change back into panties.”
It wasn’t a hard ask. He was quickly back with the wipes. Away went the damp diaper, and back came the good, warm feelings. “We’re renegotiating right now,” Eliza announced. “You’re allowed to rub a little extra down there. In fact, I must insist.”
“I thought you were spent?” Jonathan said.
“Not quite.” She had endured too much and been too worked up not to get the climax—and she was sure Jonathan would enjoy it.
He began to rub rhythmically. Soon, all the delicious humiliation found its release. Eliza shuddered as the pleasure began between her legs and traveled upwards. Now she was really spent.
They whiled away the last few hours in bed. Eliza, back in the panties she arrived in, taught Jonathan to praise her and tell her the things she needed to hear. Tell her how good she was, how much he appreciated her performance and presence, how well she had handled the challenges thrown at her, and to stroke her hair all the while. He was a quick learner. The dark clouds which had begun to form in her mind were preemptively dispersed. She asked him questions about his company, what it was like to make it big; he countered with questions of his own, about what she’d studied in college and why, and what it was like to be your own boss. She found the last bit amusing, coming from a multimillionaire entrepreneur, but she answered him truthfully, if at times a little generally (always cautious, never too personal). It was past 11:30 when she finally rose from bed. By now, Little Eliza was a distant memory. She was back in control. The professional.
Jonathan escorted her to the door. “I’d love to see you again same time next week,” he said. “And then we could renegotiate the thing about going out in public, if you don’t mind. It’s probably my ultimate fantasy. It would be totally discreet. No one but you and me would know.”
Eliza smiled. “I’m sure we can work something out,” she said. She gave him a kiss on the cheek, and then she was out the door. Jonathan watched the Metallica shirt walk down the porch to her car.
Eliza waved, and then she was off. Back to the real world. Back to roses.
Epilogue
“She’s the worst. She can’t do anything without making it look cute. I knew you’d love her,” Eliza said, sipping at her coffee.
“I don’t know about love,” said Jonathan, clearly a bit uncomfortable to be talking about his new crush. “She’s very sweet, I’ll give you that.”
“Sweet isn’t even the beginning of it. And I know for a fact she’s into the same thing you are. Did you bring it up with her yet?”
“No, it didn’t seem appropriate for a second date,” Jonathan answered.
“I knew you wouldn’t, which is why I might have mentioned something to her.”
“You did what?” Jonathan furrowed his brow. “You didn’t tell her… about us?”
“Of course not. Client-whore privilege. What happens in diapers, stays in diapers,” Eliza said and chuckled. She became suddenly aware that they were sitting in a crowded café, and any eavesdroppers could hear them discussing their fetish adventures. She glanced around, but no one seemed to pay them any heed. There was a murmur of conversation in indoor voices, drowning out their own if you were farther away than their table.
“I don’t like that you did that,” Jonathan said, although his demeanor was once again calm. Eliza couldn’t help but reflect on how much more confident he seemed than when they’d first met, six months ago. Now, he was sitting up straight, and when he spoke—and she didn’t throw him off balance like she’d just done—there was a quiet authority to his voice. Jonathan was now a man who was more accustomed to getting what he wanted, and if not, asking for it.
“I’m sorry. I was just trying to help. Now you can’t help but bring it up to her soon, because she knows and you know she knows.”
“Shhh, she’s approaching,” Jonathan said.
Eliza heard a rustle of clothes behind her, and then a coated figure appeared at their table. Jenny wasn’t much taller than Eliza, golden hair tied in a braid behind her head and red lipstick. “Eliza!” She exclaimed, and stepped up to hug her. She held the hug a long time, shaking Eliza every which way. Jenny was clearly excited.
“What are you two lovebirds up to tonight?” Eliza asked.
“I was thinking the classic, dinner then a movie,” Jonathan said.
“I hope it’s not a long one,” Jenny said. “I always have to run to the bathroom when I’m watching a long movie. But then I can’t help but have popcorn, and you can’t have popcorn without a cold drink.”
“I know just the solution for that,” Eliza mused.
Jenny blushed, but you could tell she was thinking naughty thoughts already. “Oh, don’t get me started,” Jenny said. “What do you think, Jonathan?”
Jonathan was a bit flustered, but he quickly composed himself. “Who, me? About what?”
“Should we maybe go for a short movie?”
“I think you can handle yourself, sweetheart,” Jonathan said, putting his hand over hers.
“Oooh,” Jenny cooed. “I love it when he calls me stuff like that. Little nicknames and stuff. Where did you find this stud, Eliza? Why didn’t you snag him for yourself?”
Jonathan was frantically trying to signal to Eliza behind Jenny’s back. Please don’t say anything. Of course, Eliza had no intentions of doing so. “John and I met in a cooking class. He’s an excellent cook. You should totally cook for her at home, John, I know she’d love it.”
“That’s kind of you to say,” Jonathan said, clearly relieved.
“I’m going to the ladies’ room,” Eliza said. “Jenny, would you come with me?”
Jenny took the hint, and together they began making their way through the throng of Saturday café dwellers, taking a break from shopping and daily life. Eliza turned and winked at Jonathan, who blushed and began his hand signals again, but by that time Eliza had already turned around, and they’d made their way into the ladies’ room. None of the stalls were occupied, so they were free to converse. “So,” said Eliza, “did you do it yet?”
“No. But we did have some wonderful kisses. I was thinking tonight was going to be the night. I put on some sexy lingerie, but then I also packed some protection in my purse. I wasn’t sure if I was going to use it…” Jenny said. She surreptitiously gave Eliza a peek into her purse, where a small, pink disposable lay.
Eliza took her hand. “Honey, go into a stall right now and change. I promise you, you won’t regret it. He’ll love it.”
“How can you be so sure? How can you know so much about his kinks? Did you two…?”
Well, shit. Had she accidentally revealed her and Jonathan’s little secret? Come to think of it, Eliza would have suspected a fling if one of her girlfriends started telling her about what this cute guy she was trying to set her up with liked in bed. “No, nothing like that,” Eliza said. When she began the sentence, she didn’t know how to follow up, but she trudged on. If she hesitated, her cover would be blown. “John and I are good friends. He knows what I do for a living. He knows I’ve seen some weird shit, and don’t judge anyone for it. I’m the only one he could possibly talk about this stuff with. He was pretty down because he told a previous girlfriend about it, and it didn’t go so well. He wouldn’t go into detail at first, but I managed to coax it out of him. But never tell him I told you that.”
Jenny appeared satisfied with that answer. “Now, baby girl,” Eliza said, “get your cute butt in that stall and change before you have an accident.” She smiled and stuck her tongue out, and Jenny laughed, if a little nervously. But Jenny was, if anything, more submissive than Eliza even, and she did as she was told.
Eliza had met her a few months back at a fetish event. Jenny had been dressed in a schoolgirl uniform, with her hair in pigtails, and there was something unbelievably innocent about her. Of course, many people liked schoolgirl play without being into the full regression experience. But Jenny had seemed rather unsure of herself—it soon became clear this was her first live kink event—and Eliza, much more assured in her preferences, liked to gently introduce newcomers to the world of kink. She’d come to see herself as more than just a girl who enjoyed lots of steamy, kinky sex; more than just a prostitute who catered to unusual interests. Eliza wanted to help people achieve peace with themselves and gain confidence in their sexual proclivities, whatever those might be. It was especially important to help fellow women, since they were more susceptible to creeps. Even if no one outright assaulted them, Eliza didn’t want anyone to come away from their first kinky experience with a bad taste in their mouth. That might just lead them to denial of their true selves, which was a surefire recipe for mental issues and relationship troubles down the road.
She had guided Jenny to a sofa in a somewhat secluded room, sat her down and told her that she knew how overwhelming it must be to be thrust headfirst into the world of kink. “I’m rather experienced in these things,” Eliza had said. “I’m actually a sex worker who caters to various fetishes.” At that, Jenny’s eyes had gone wide. “Oh, does that offend you?”
“No, no, it’s not that,” Jenny said, shrinking her body. Eliza put a hand on her shoulder.
“Relax, I’m joking. A lot of people react like that. If you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine, but I know kink, and I could help ease you into this. Help a sister out.”
Slowly, prodding carefully and most of all, engaging her ears rather than her mouth, encouraging at times but mostly sitting back to listen, Jenny’s story had come to light. How she had always been interested in childish things, how it turned her on to play at being a little girl, and how she wished for a strong, kind man to help her fulfill those desires. A light bulb had gone on in Eliza’s head instantly. She’d be perfect for John. But she had mentioned this to neither of them, instead continuing to nurture her relationship and build trust with each separately. Although no longer weekly, John had engaged her services sporadically ever since their first meeting. Eliza had quickly come to realize that rules are made to be broken, and she couldn’t keep up the facade that John was just a client. In another life, he might have been a great boyfriend, but Eliza’s interest in him lay more in the realm of friendship. He was so supportive and kind to her, taking such good care of her when they were together, but she, too, had to support and build him up, help him learn to fully accept who he was. To accept that his desires were legitimate, and to nurture the hope in him that there really was a girl out there for him who would participate enthusiastically in his interests, with no money on the table.
The first time Eliza had invited John out for coffee, “to talk as adults, as friends,” he had balked at her offer. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that,” he’d said.
Eliza was a bit taken aback, almost offended. Had she totally misread him? But she could see his misgivings. She, herself, had lots of misgivings about fraternizing with clients outside of work. It broke all her rules. Perhaps John thought he pitied her? Or that she was angling for more money with less work? “John,” she’d said on the phone, “coffee’s on me. Because I really like you and want to get to know you outside our professional relationship. We can never be together, you know, but I think we can be friends. I’d miss you if we didn’t see each other anymore, and I’m not talking about your money.”
At that, he had broken down. He couldn’t refuse her. Eliza enjoyed having that effect on people, although she worried she might be manipulative if she used her charm on friends outside work. “The way we each support and care for each other, at times one being the caregiver and moral support, at other times, the other, isn’t that what friendship is?” He had agreed. Since then, they’d have coffee or lunch once a week, whether they had an appointment or not. And two weeks ago, she had set up a blind date between Jenny and John. Even their names seemed perfect together, like those couples whose names roll so well off the tongue together that it feels weird to mention one without the other.
Jenny exited the cubicle while Eliza washed off her face with cold water. She knew that John preferred her without makeup, and frankly, that was fine by her. Having to get all dolled up could be a bitch sometimes, and it was refreshing to know that there was someone who found her sexier without it. “So, did you do it?” Eliza asked. “Did you put on your protection for me, honey?”
“Uh-huh,” Jenny said, and bit her lip.
“Show me.”
Jenny lifted her sweater, then lowered her tights slightly, giving Eliza a peek at her pink waistband. At that moment, a woman entered the restroom, and Jenny scrambled to cover up her diaper, blushing madly.
Eliza put her arm around her. “I’m so proud of you, baby. Come on, let’s not leave your date hanging.”
“There you ladies are,” Jonathan said when they returned. “Tell me, did you stay in there gossiping?”
“None of your business,” Eliza said, smiling. Jenny sat down beside Jonathan and gave his hand a squeeze.
“Well, you two better get going,” Eliza said. “I expect to hear from each of you how it went.” She rose to leave, giving each of them a warm hug, and Jenny a secret little pat on her padded bum.
The next afternoon, Eliza received two phone calls in short succession. The first was from Jenny. “Oh my god,” was the first thing Jenny said.
“Baby, I can’t tell if that’s good or bad.”
“He was so sweet and we had such a nice dinner with some wine, and then we went to see a movie and, ooh, he picked the longest one there was! We didn’t even get through the credits before I started to feel like I had to pee. And then by the middle of the movie I was desperate! I looked for the exit sign, but then I just kind of gave up and tinkled a little in my… protection. And then it wouldn’t stop! I was soaked by the end of the movie!”
“Oh, I bet that felt good,” said Eliza. “You didn’t leak, did you?”
“No, it held up! But then he invited me home to his place, and I was super nervous because I really wanted to sleep with him, but what was he going to say when he found me in a wet diaper? I was so afraid he’d throw me to the curb.”
“I take it he didn’t,” Eliza said. “If he did, I’m going over there right now and kicking his ass.”
“No, no, he didn’t. We began making out on the couch, and then his hands started to wander down below, and I really wanted to feel him touch me there, so I let him. When he found the wet padding, his eyes went wide, and for a moment my heart stopped and I was thinking, my god, my life is over… But you know what he did? He asked me if I had a little accident!”
“You did, didn’t you?”
“Well, obviously,” Jenny said. “But I couldn’t admit to that. I was just blushing and denying it, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He led me by the hand upstairs, and you won’t believe it… He changed my diaper! He had, like, a collection of different types!”
This is so sweet, Eliza thought. Sounds like it went exactly as planned. I’m so proud of John. He’s come so far. “That’s wonderful, sweetie.”
“It was amazing! We ended up having sex, and I don’t think anyone’s ever made me feel so good about myself! I’m so grateful you didn’t snag him up while he was on the market, because now he’s mine and you can’t have him!”
“I’m so happy for you two,” Eliza said. “I don’t want him like that. But if you don’t want us to be friends, you’ll have to fight me for him.” They continued chatting for a little while, but then Eliza received another call, this time from John. “Jenny babe, we’ll have to talk later. I have another friend clamoring for my attention,” Eliza said.
“Oh my god,” was the first thing John said.
“You too? Are you two psychically linked already? I just spoke with Jenny, and she said the same thing,” Eliza said.
There was a tone of worry in John’s voice. “Oh god, what did she tell you?” He asked.
“Relax. She had a wonderful time. She’s claiming you—I couldn’t have you if you wanted to, she says. Watch out or she’ll pee on you to mark her territory.”
The line went quiet for a few seconds. “… Jonathan?”
“No, it’s just funny you should say that,” John said.
Eliza rolled her eyes, although she was smiling. “You two already got your kink on, I see.”
“You could say that. Yesterday, at the café, when you two were in the bathroom. You made her wear that diaper, didn’t you?”
“It was her idea. I just gave her the confidence to go through with it.”
“Well, I don’t know how to thank you,” John said.
“You can thank me by not becoming one of those couples who never have time for anyone but themselves. I expect we have a coffee date next week as usual, or I’ll have to come round to your house, tie you up and throw you in the trunk, because I’m not letting go of you that easily.”
“You’d do it, too, that’s the crazy part,” John said.
“Take good care of Jenny, and I’ll make sure she takes good care of you. You two are quickly becoming two of my favorite people, and I’m so happy you found each other.”
“With a little help from you.”
“Hey,” Eliza said, “I live to please.”
After she hung up, Eliza walked over to her bed stand. On it sat a stuffed animal John had given her, which—loathe as she was to admit it—had come in handy on cold autumn nights when she was alone in bed. Beside it was a flower vase. She leaned in and smelled the fresh red roses she had received that morning. The note only said, “Thank you,” with no name. Eliza didn’t know from whom, but she could take one good guess.
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Alr, I need you, rn. so you're very rich, so rich, rich. And what do most of the rich do? They go to auctions. okay, there was a very nice rare item, let's say it was a nice painting. And this painting was for sale. You both liked the painting and you both wanted it. Ok, after all the betting back and forth with many other rich people and especially Itachi, you won/acquired the painting. The auction was next to a hotel (think of something else if it doesn't fit <3) in any case he wanted to look at his beautiful loss (i.e. the picture) one last time and we end up having sex with him. Btw, we're damn hot in a pretty dress or something. I don't know if you can write this but I can't get your Itachi hcs and one shots out of my head. It doesn't matter if you don't make it possible for me
beautiful loss
[🗼] I tried doing this during the week but I had so many schoolwork im so sorry !! but it's finally hereee
idk how auctions work ok you'll have to forgive me
characters: itachi uchiha
genre: nsfw; modern au;
warnings: fem!reader; unprotected sex; oral sex (male receiving); creampie;
word count: 3k
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warm rays of sunlight were covered by your overpriced sunglasses as you eyed the item in your cellphone. you were on your way to a foreign city where the next auction was going to take place in. a rare, valuable item was going to be offered. you didn't know what it was, but it tickled your curiosity and you rushed to the place as soon as you knew of the event.
rich people were going to be there as well, you knew. they were probably going to be all old people, not many of your young age, something unexpected considering rich youths were totally uninterested in these sales.
two days before the auction started you were already at the city, setting yourself at a hotel close by. your luggage was left behind as you took out your most elegant dress. the red matte fabric felt and looked so soft and expensive. it wasn't within you to always wear your best cloths, but this time felt a bit different, a bold move from your part.
the morning of the auction, you woke up feeling like a caterpillar evolving to a butterfly. it was so cheesy, but maybe today was your day, you had a good feeling.
as you put on your dress and styled your hair, you thought about the mysterious item. whatever it was, you could either use it as decoration or re-sale it with a better price.
you arrived to the event, and as you expected, a bunch of old wealthy people were present. it wasn't that you hated them, but the big age gap could create a bit of difficulties while conversing. so you opted for staying by yourself quiet.
what lightened your day was definitely the rare item at sale: a beautiful sculpture. it was a bust of a woman, her faced covered in throned flowers. it was a piece of art left to one's interpretation, everyone having their own analysis of it. you were an art lover, you thought it was the maximum level of expressions without using verbal actions.
you were going to win and acquire it.
"what do you think the artist tried to symbolize with it?" just as you were admiring the bust, you heard a deep voice behind you. the owner of that voice was a handsome young man, the same age as you, though he looked a bit older given his speech and his manners.
however, besides his gentle aura, you were just as amazed by his natural beauty. he was truly gorgeous. your common beauty standards were broken into a new level just by seeing this man. he had long raven hair tied in a loose low ponytail, with just a few strings of hair covering the sides of his face which–god. you could swear his pale skin was glowing a bit as you gazed at his features: his cheekbones prominent, his sharp jawline, his long elegant nose, and a pair of electrifying black eyes. his eyelashes were thicker and longer then yours, even with your mascara on!
a sigh left your lips. he was breathtaking.
"it can go many ways. I think each person may have their own point of view. that's what art is: a representation of our emotions." even through your amazed state, when it was about art, you left your heart speak. the man seemed satisfied with your answered, giving you a soft smile on his meaty lips and closing his eyes.
"I agree with you,"
just as he said that, he left your side. you couldn't believe you just lost sight of someone who was in front of you seconds ago, but there wasn't anything left of him as you turned your neck furiously confused at every corner.
you tried not thinking too much about, it was an auction after all. you were going to leave the city the next day, regardless if you won the sculpture or not.
the bidding took place. you were uninterested on the other items at display, your eyes focused solely on the bust of the woman. you waited patiently as the other objects were being purchased by the people around you, not failing to recognize the young man you just talked to.
so he was here to bid just as you. you took noticed of his offers, some could be mistaken as risky, but nonetheless were they intelligent. he knew when to speak and what quantity to offer. he definitely knew what he was doing.
that thought alone made you blush a bit. intelligence was something that turned you on slightly. men knowing what they were doing was a thought that you could touch yourself to.
it was the turn of the piece of art that stole your interest. your strategies to get rid of others bidders were working, only leaving you and the handsome man. he looked just as determined to get the bust as you.
you would be lying if you'd say you weren't a bit insecure that he could smell your strategies and break them. but all those worries were left aside as you said your last bid, the auctioneer asking the public for any higher offers, just to be met with silent. you couldn't see the handsome man across the room nor could you hear him now that he quieted down; but that didn't matter now that the bust was officially yours.
it was given to you to your bare hands as you gave the money, along with a bunch of common paperwork you already knew, filling it with no problem. contentment was read all over your face. you were glad you acquired the only piece you wanted from it. a part of you, however, remembered momentarily the young man from earlier. he did take your breath away, you wanted to see him again even if it was for a last time.
...
you set yourself in your hotel room as you arranged cautiously the bust. you were about to change your clothes to go out eat when you heard a knock at the door.
it was a bit late at night and your hotel room was previously been cleaned already, so who could it be?
with a confused look on your face, you opened the door, only to be met with the handsome young man from the auction earlier.
"oh hi!" a surprised yet confused tone in your voice. it didn't cross your mind that he might be staying in the same hotel as you, it was the nearest and on top of that, it was a very fancy one.
"please accept my apology for showing up just casually," he told you sincerely. "my name is itachi uchiha, sorry for not introducing myself properly earlier."
his perfectly taught manners were actually a bit of a turn on for you; it was shocking to encounter a kind, gentle man nowadays.
itachi raised his hand to yours, waiting for a handshake, yet noticing your hesitation, his hand stood still. "oh yeah, sorry." you shook your head softly, "it's okay, I am y/n l/n." you finally brought your hand to his, his big hand embracing yours in warmth. you immediately liked the feeling.
"sorry for asking this way but," your sudden gaze on him made him twitch a bit, your eyes were addicting to look at. "why are you doing here?"
itachi's mind was blank for a second, completely having forgotten the initial reason to be here. it could have been your sensual dress which, coincidentally, was of his favorite color, vermillion. itachi was a gentleman, not thinking of women just that way; but perhaps it was your intelligence, your perspective of art, or just your appealing aura that was driving him completely crazy. he even forgot to introduce himself in front of you after your response to his question, already being under your spell.
"that piece of art has being on my mind since the auction," just as you... "I was wondering if you would allow me to just see it one last time."
could those be his real intentions? you didn't question that too much, allowing the tempting man inside your hotel room. you weren't against art amateurs after all.
itachi spent a good couple of minutes just admiring the bust, grabbing his phone to take some pictures of it. you just stood there a bit dumbfounded, he looked such a fuckboy, you would have thought that he would be out there fucking three girls at the same time instead of stalking the owner of some piece of art. it was cute though.
"you often do this?"
"this is unusual for me. I normally get what I want." his black eyes met yours, an intense gaze. he didn't mean to sound boastful but honest; it was his way of explaining things. but regardless of his tone, his comment made you blush, considering the way he was eyeing you, as if he was trying to look under your tight dress.
you were definitely up to play that game.
you crossed your legs slowly as you sat on your bed, leaning on your hands. your breasts moved along your soft breathing. "oh yeah? and how come this time you didn't get it?"
your intentions showed through your voice, itachi knew that.
"I will."
he approached you, looking at you as if you were his prey, he was ready to attack. you felt your core burn, your legs pressed each other together with more force to relief some of your arousal. itachi looked gorgeous and feral, a soft smirk adorning his features as his eyes screamed impure thoughts.
he still seemed a bit timid though, so you lifted your head up, gaze as innocent as a virgin. your hands went to his hips now that he was standing in front of you, his crotch leveled at your nose.
"then show me how you always get what you want."
itachi's hands unbuckled his pants as soon as those words left your mouth, pulling them down to his ankles. with his boxers on display, you had in front of you his voluptuous bulge, throbbing and begging to be freed.
delicate hands went to the waistlines of his boxers, pulling them down. his cock sprang tall. your mouth watered at the sight of his large cock; his pink base looked delicious. it was definitely was of the biggest cocks you had seen, you were sure it would fit perfectly with your tight pussy.
you grabbed his base, feeling his blood rushing through the veins of his cock, making it seem bigger. you started stroking him slowly, making sure your hand touched all of him. while your other hand covered his balls which looked just as full; you were readying yourself to receive that load inside you.
vision going white, itachi let out some carnal sounds that he didn't knew he could make. his moans echoed in your ears, your hand going faster and faster, until your lips connected with his rosy tip.
you looked up at him, your gaze still innocent, as you stuck your tongue out to touch more of him. the wet muscle made itachi shiver, his knees threatening to give up.
you guided his cock to your mouth, introducing him more and more until his tip touched the depths of your throat. the moan that left itachi's mouth sounded so erotic, the hand on his balls squeezing around them, his sounds now louder.
you sucked him off for a few minutes. itachi's hands occasionally would tangle around your hair, only for later to loose strength due to the utter pleasure he felt from just your mouth on his cock and your hand on his balls.
lewd, nasty sounds boomed through the room, your drool covering itachi's large dick and his moans getting louder and more desperate.
itachi felt a tug on his belly, his cock feeling hot for a second. his hands went to your nape, making you take the whole of his cock. you started gagging with tears on your eyes as you looked up at him once again. your nose touched his belly for a few seconds as he withdrew you from his cock, drool connecting it with your mouth.
panting, you started to take off your red dress, however itachi had other plans. his right hand went to your chin, stopping you immediately, and grabbed your face with a bit force. he bent down until your faces were connected, stealing a fervent kiss from you.
his lips were rough, his teeth nibbling on your lips softly. itachi was devouring your mouth, swallowing your drool from your chin while his hands went to your elegant neck and your nape. his control on you just made your pussy cry, you loved this dominant side from him, so unlike his docile nature.
itachi removed his hands from you just to take off his classy coat, relieving some heat from his body. just as he finished, his large hands went now below your armpits, touching slightly your breasts with his thumbs. your body reacted by itself, hopping to itachi.
a gasp came out of your mouth as itachi's hands wondered to your body, touching you as if he knew you from years. your backside had never received so much attention before.
pure dark thoughts clouded itachi's mind, he let his most animalistic side took over him. his hands hoisted the bottom of your dress, revealing your delicious bum and your pussy to him, only covered by a mere insignificant fabric.
itachi truly loved the dress, hence the desire to completely ruin your guts with you in it. he took your panties off you, tossing them across the room.
kisses were shared as your hands kept stroking him, his hands never leaving your body as well. itachi ceased his kiss with you just to motion you to the thick sofa behind him. his hand went to your ass as you walked in front of him, you turned your head to look at him and winked.
itachi sat first on the couch, patting his lap so you would sit on his cock. your pussy throbbed at the sight of his cock standing tall, it looked exquisite, ready to be covered now with your juices.
your knees were positioned on either side of itachi, and as you squatted, your pussy lips came in contact with his thick tip. itachi's hands caressed your waist, admiring the expensive fabric of your dress.
with heavy eyes, your and itachi's gaze connected. you knew back then that this encounter wasn't exactly random, he probably planned all this and all you could do was thank him for the moment.
you struggled to get him inside you, his thick head disappearing slowly inside your hole. it was as if your air was being expelled out of your lungs with each inch. you could only grunt and whorl your hips around him, while itachi nibbled on your cleavage, leaving slightly red and purple marks on it. his teeth moved your dress down for your breast to be on display. oh god, they were just perfect, your velvet mountains ready to be sucked in.
just as your pussy was finishing swallowing itachi's cock, his mouth enclosed on your nipple, sucking at it noisily. his hands moved sensually around your back until they went down to your hips at the same time you finally enveloped all of him.
soft, repetitive throbs were felt inside your sensitive hole, your hands clenched on itachi's shoulders, tears wanting to come out. you felt so full, his large cock felt fantastic yet it stuffed you well enough to already make you to sob without moving.
"oh... itachi..." you moaned out loud. "you feel so good... mmmh..." itachi thought you were funny, he wasn't moving an inch and you already were squirming.
"yeah? wait till I move, love," he said amused, and it was that moment that you actually realized you hadn't moved since you were trying for it to fit in.
your hips moved involuntarily at just the thought, a release of extreme pleasure shot through your body as his tip kissed your g-spot. itachi's hands tightened on your hips, guiding you. though you didn't need the aid that much, your hips wiggled on his cock, your wet walls clenching. Itachi tried to keep sucking at your breasts, though the pure euphoria didn’t let him continue his brutal licks.
"god... you do it just right..." itachi moaned as his head felt backwards. you went to his neck, kissing him harshly and biting some of his pale skin. his Adam's apple moved along his grunts; that sight made you go quicker.
his head kissed your cervix repeatedly, your orgasm unfolding. your butt shook every time you bounced on itachi's large cock along with your breasts which he seemed to enjoy a bit more than your butt.
sweat ran down your exposed skin, the space between your tits glowing from how moist it was. itachi's thumb went to your clit, curling just perfectly to drive you crazy, your vision going white as you screamed.
"ohh!! itachi! im going to c-cum..!" you voiced was raspy from all the moaning, yet your sensual sounds caused the same effect on him.
your body was about to give up, loosing speed and pressure as your neck flew backwards with your mouth open. itachi's look at you was piercing, trying to remember this image for the rest of his lifetime.
strong arms held your hips and legs, pounding into you with such force that you were unable to make sounds now, silent gestures only. your hands gripped on him tighter, your mind on heaven as your orgasm built on your belly.
itachi didn't stop though, wanting to achieve his own just as you did. he coiled his hips as he kept thrusting into you, his balls slamming on your asscheeks.
with thorough thrusts and sternly precision, itachi felt his balls twitch, his load ready to come and breed you. and just as his cum painted white your walls, itachi's body went rigid, staying in that position until his balls felt empty.
you felt overwhelmed with your core sensitive and his semen dripping from your tight hole. you looked at the handsome young man, trying to decipher what was on his mind.
his eyes looked at the sculpture behind you, "I guess I got something better.”
#I’ll do some old requests this weekend <3#itachi#itachi uchiha#itachi uchiha x reader#itachi x reader#uchiha itachi#itachi x you#itachi uchiha x you#naruto
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Exploring Con O'Neill's Filmography Day #?- Murder City S01.EP4- Mr. Right (2004)
Murder City S01.EP4- Mr. Right
Warnings: Depiction of a murder, gunshots/gun violence, stalking, obsession over an adult woman(the fucking victim) from both a police officer and multiple victims, minor of the time period transphobic comments. This is Copoganda. It's not even hiding it.
This is one of Con's one-off performances for a TV show. It's a cop procedural and it runs at just about an hour. Watch his scenes, you don't really need to care about the plot. He's a side character that barely matters once the mystery is all tied together. If you're craving a cop show, just watch the Pie in the Sky episode he's in. You will have a better time.
Due to the weird pacing of this episode and scene changes, unless you've seen it you probably won't get what's going on. I've edited to add context the best I can, but you can skip to the end to see my overall thoughts.
As always, I love chatting in the comments. If you've already seen this, don't be afraid to rant!
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What the fuck is this intro? Why does it feel like a HGTV show.
Okay, lets play the game of, is Con the victim or the murderer?
HE'S THE CORPSE?
OH SHIT THAT'S NOT CON.
I'm calling it now, three-way. Guy was let in, and shot him.
I'm guessing right now Con killed them, jealous of the guy for getting the girl. Or Con's character was jealous of the woman.
Definitely Man hands holding that gun, is it Con? If so, #6 of Con's character improperly using guns. (Spoilers, supprisingly, I don't think Con's character touches a gun)
CON APPEARS
'Spencer Grieves. A catholic, a family man. A vicious bastard.' HELL YEAH! HANG ON. He's a vicious flower wholesale person, and if you don't buy from him, he fucking attacks you?!??!!? Flower better be code for drugs, or I fucking swear.
God, I love criminal/competent Con characters, he's having so much fun.
They wouldn't need literally every person in her family to come in and identify the body, this just seems cruel.
This whole purity angle for the victim is just gross. She's a fully grown adult, why the fuck are they so shocked she's fucking people.
This is why you don't let yourself be defined by a certain animal. She's stuck with ducks, and I'll forever be stuck with owls. I wonder if owls will be relevant to my murder.
(Going to the all mens prision to interogate a suspect, our female detective goes in basically alone, with the prisoners walking around their residential area) They would have put everyone in lockdown for her to come on. What the fuck?
CON. That hat is fun. From now on, he's Spencer.
WHY THE FUCK IS HE TALKING ABOUT LOVE SO MUCH IN HIS FIRST SCENE? I know for the 20 years post Blood Brothers he was cast in these types of roles. Sad and wrecked people wanting acceptance. Look at any of his work from the 90s/00s. BUT GOD. Someone needs to rip all of these 'I'm a sad, lonely, blank looking for love, etc. ' speeches into a Izzy edit.
HE ALSO HAS SHIPS ON HIS MEMORY BOARD, HELL YEAH
HE'S GAY(OR BI!!!!! Depending on if he loves his wife, yet to be seen. But given she hasn't visited him...eh)!!!!!!!!!!!!!
HE'S FUCKING IN LOVE WITH SCOVI (the male victim)! I love the 'wow I didn't think this guy was gay' subversion always being Con's thing. He inadvertently makes the subversion a typecast for himself. Funny as shit.
Oh wow. A Queer Con character who devoted his life to someone, only for his lover to suddenly make a total life change, and leave him behind for a blonde. Shocker.
Okay. SPENCER IS SO MUCH FUN. He's bringing Cliff(BBC Uncle)/Angel(3 Steps to Heaven) energy here, and I'm kind of loving it.
"And my wife? She wouldn't approve." OHHH. God, he's funny as shit. Awful and morally dubious, but fun as shit.
Why would you have code names to hide the identities of the men you'd want to fuck in a personal diary.
Also, I don't like that the blonde detective seems like he'd want to fuck the dead woman.
Spencer's wife seems fun. The cop calling Spencer 'A small Alpha of a man who protects his family' is rude. I am one inch taller than he is.
Okay, obviously ACAB. Don't trust cops. But if Spencer's work is endangering her children then, yeah, probably best to gtfo.
They're all kinda sexist as shit to the blonde detective lady.
God I hate this blonde guy detective. He's such a confident idiot. In an American show, he would have been shot and learned not to be an idiot like this. Going in somewhere alone with a suspect of a murder case? Dumbass.
Also, if he got any evidence from that conversation how would he even use it in court?
EY Back at the prison. Nice. Smiling Con is the best Con.
Why would Spencer not hide contraband well?
HAHAHA I am routing for Spencer, this plan the cops had was stupid as fuck.
If I was as paranoid as this character likely is, I'd just throw out my phone.
Idiots. He clearly knows you snooped.
The editing in this is a choice.
This love triangle/circle/fucking hexagon feels like high school gossip.
Transphobic joke is not needed, and neither is the sexist comment jackasses.
I am pretty sure this isn't how phones work?
Good for him, knowing not to say shit regardless if he thinks something could be tracked. Also, Bi-con.
NVM, let's just admit guilt and a few other crimes over the phone.
Why are these innocent people just talking to cops? Giving them free information as they stalk you out of your workplace. I hate this blonde jackass.
WHAT THE FUCK. What is this editing? WHY DOES BLONDE DOUCHE WANT TO FUCK THE DEAD CHICK.
Yeah, it's a fucking diary jackass. It's going to be biased as fuck, why are you taking at as gospel. Does he have a Sherlock Holmes thing going on here? Seeing how things 'really' happened.
DON'T THEY NEED A FUCKING WARRANT TO SEE CCTV! "Enhance it" It's a fucking bald guy. You have one bald suspect. Also, enhancing things doesn't work like that.
Well, now you've probably endangered Spencer's entire family.
We are 40 minutes into this, can you fucks not argue about who gets credit for the case.
God I hate cop shows. Stop being smug bastards, someone's been killed.
YEY! Back to the prison!
Also, as a person who has done tours in my local prison (US) for our government class, it's weird to see how this prison is semi-accurate.
WHY ARE YOU GIVING A PEP TALK TO GROSS BLONDE DETECTIVE ABOUT DATING SURROUNDED BY FELONS. Spencer was a violent offender, all the people surrounding him likely have similar sentences. But no, lets openly chat about how his standards are too high? He's a fucking unlikeable worm of a man.
Just let him be single. Jesus Christ.
DID SPENCER GET A GUN TO KILL THE GUY WHO SOLD HIM OUT! (Or used bought loyalty to get the guy killed)If so, badass. And he got away with it cause he had help. Perfect.
How about we just assume anyone who was involved will be killed.
God, Spencer shouldn't be hot...What am I kidding myself, of course he's hot.
Spencer is also cheating on her. If he's catholic enough to care, he already thinks he's going to hell. Both for cheating and fucking men.
Also, cops are paid to lie to you. We as the audience know the cop is just lying, but Spencer should have assumed. How he doesn't know this as an experienced felon is bullshit.
ALSO WHY WASN'T SPENCER TIED DOWN OR HANDCUFFED! I swear to god, does having a violent record mean nothing in England? WHAT DID YOU EXPECT! The cop was riling him up.
Oh, finally someone guilty has a lawyer
That blood looked like paint. Nice red apple. How the fuck is there 20 minutes left.
Yeah, maybe if you think Spencer is guilty wait until he's out. Set something up to watch him after he leaves prison, and wait. Jesus Christ.
Why the fuck does an older blonde woman care about the younger blonde detective's sex life? This is the third scene that's like this. Like, it's sweet that she cares about work-life balance, but being a cop is one of those jobs where that shit goes out the window.
Nope. I hate this. When Sherlock does it, it works cause Sherlock isn't trying to picture sad desperate women looking for love. He treats them with respect. This jackass is just lonely and pictures victims being his friend. Weird as shit.
(He tries to kiss his imaginary ghost victim) WHAT THE FUCK. Is this supposed to be charming?
CON! THANK GOD! Rescue me, please. Look at that summer drip. I think I own that shirt. At least he's being nice about handing the phone over for evidence.
ENHANCING IMAGES DOESN'T WORK LIKE THAT
A shrine? Weird. Also, I know this person is obsessed, but seriously? Who decorates like that.
Eh, that pun was awful.
Yeah, having both men be obsessed with her just points out how gross the detective guy is.
So a gross man thinking he knew what was right for a woman, wow, shocker.
Yeah, bullets go through people. Idiot.
THE DIARY SHOULD HAVE BEEN IN EVIDENCE THE ENTIRE TIME JESUS CHRIST
So what was Spencer whole deal, just gay and knew a guy at the wrong place at the wrong time?
HOT CON ALERT. Shirt half unbuttoned, chest hair exposed, sunglasses on. This is the mental wash I need after remembering how god-awful and scary it can be to date.
Why is he talking to the cop? I thought he hated him.
SHE LEFT WITH THE KIDS OH SHIT. AWWWW. Jackass cop.
Is he going to get shot? Well, now he's left with a dead lover, no wife, and no kids. Likely no place to work. He'll probably go right back into crime.
I DON'T CARE ABOUT THIS BLOND DETECTIVE. Oh, he can see her? It's a ghost thing? Ah well. If this was actually her consciousness, it doesn't make his obsession with her any less creepy.
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Story: 4/10. Spencer's thing was the only part I enjoyed.
The entire cop crew pissed me off, I didn't like a single character. The victim was guilty of being young and pretty. A bunch of men felt like they were owed her attention, and she gets accidentally killed out of possessive jealousy. So what do the writers do? Make our main protagonist fall for her. Dumb and gross. Even in death, she's just eye candy. Not a person. Her parents knew her as innocent, which is the first thing that interests the detective. Just gross. The other detectives were either just assholes, or uninteresting.
Con: Loved it. Honestly, I love when Con gets to play competent people. He felt lived in, and like what Angel should have been in 3 Steps to Heaven. All of this comes from Con's performance as a cautious criminal, not through the writing. More about his character and the way he holds himself. Gender and confidence envy.
Spencer Grieves: The sarcastic maybe Bisexual Catholic with a history of violence. He wasn't even directly tied into the main murder, he just fucked the wrong guy. Love destroys you, indeed. Again, the mother probably made the best choice getting the kids out of there. But I felt like Spencer genuinely cared, and loved his family. So in all likely hood, after all this good behavior and growth, he's probably going right back to jail.
It kind of feels like the writers threw in his queerness as a 'look at how awful of a parent/spouse he is'. Or maybe in a 'wow, a gay 'immoral' criminal, no one is shocked' copoganda way.
Which isn't great, but of the time period. Spencer is a fun and compelling character that doesn't deserve to be in this copaganda bullshit. Speaking of copaganda.
Bias that almost made me skip scene by scene through this: It's fucking propaganda. We're supposed to be sympathizing with the wisecracking asshole cops. Be happy when they lie, or mislead, or abuse their power. But no. Everything they said made me hate them, and want the criminals to get away with fucking murder. In Pie in the Sky, yeah they were cops, but they were still people. Solving stupid no stakes crimes, the assholes in the show were other cops and we as the audience were supposed to hate them. This show felt like every bad part of CSI, but British. No fault to Con here.
Overall: If anyone has clipped Con's scenes, then that's the best way to watch it. Even without context, Con's performance is fun. The way thay handled the victims part just felt gross. She was never a person, just an item, to everyone in her life. A victim who was taken advantage of by their want to love and be loved. Kind of like Spencer when you think about it, passionate about his family, and how he freaked out about his wife cheating on him. His world fell apart because he loved the male victim and his wife. Now both are left with nothing...No, im not giving the writers that much credit here.
Just rewatch Pie in The Sky. This is weird for me, cause Con plays a confirmed queer character here but it feels more hateful.
B-tier for Con's performance/character. The show around him ties him down sadly, fucking D for the story. I don't know how I'd scale this on a /10 scale. Just know, not high. While his other stuff was fun to watch, as soon as Con was off-screen I was uncomfortable.
As always, love to @ivegotnonameidea for the suggestions ;)
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RRR is about a culture fighting for its right to exist
Since RRR hit Netflix and reached a global audience, I’ve heard many recommendations for the film, all of which take the form of something like, “This movie is crazy! There’s a scene where they attack a palace by unleashing a horde of wild animals, you have to see this movie!” Or “they introduce one of the main characters by showing him wrestling a tiger!”
These sorts of comments did basically nothing to persuade me to check it out. But I finally did check it out, entirely thanks to the recommendation of Jason Pargin, who (on “We Just Watched” with Dave Bell) provided a great explanation of how the movie actually uses spectacle to convey theme, mostly by vocalizing the subtext in one pivotal scene. (What follows is taken from their exchange, lightly paraphrased/edited for readability)
Jason: There's different kinds of spectacle. For example, the thing that RRR is up for an Academy award, is a song that is from a dance number, 60 minutes in, where most American movies have the key pivotal twist or action scene. In RRR, it's a dance-off. If you had that in an American movie, it would be parody: "isn't it wacky that we're gonna stop and dance 60 minutes into the movie? But in RRR, the song that is nominated for an academy award, the version that's up is the original Telugu version, Naatu Naatu, it just means 'dance dance.' It is a scene where the two superhuman heroes, both men undercover, they think they're friends, they're secretly working to do something else; Bheem's trying to get this kidnapped child back, and at this time you think Ram is hunting Bheem.
They go to this big party at the headquarters where the British are, because they have befriended a woman who's part of the British governor’s family, that's their in. They realize where the child is being held. The key is, they're infiltrating, right? So they both have to put on western style suits and attend among all these British people, and they're being treated like crap.
Bheem starts getting bullied by this British guy. We know, from watching the movie to this point, that Bheem could kill this man with three of his fingers. Bheem would not break a sweat breaking this guy's entire body in half. But he can't do that; he's undercover. And his best friend Ram is also undercover; they can't turn this into a fight, and they know it.
Jason: So the evil British guy gives a speech, because they're all dancing, it's a fancy dance for fancy people. He has had a cultured upbringing in the best British schools, and knows all these different dance styles, and starts talking as if, "Why do we care that we're erasing this culture? They don't have a culture. These people just live in mud floor huts, what do they have? What difference does it make if this culture vanishes, if there's nothing to it? They’re savages."
And then Ram starts playing the drums, and walks up and says, "Yeah, I dunno about any of those dances, have you ever heard Naatu, this dance we do?" And then this dance sequence explodes, as spectacle.
It starts as an extremely jaunty tune, the lyrics are like, "come, do this dance!" and it's inviting them. And then the song goes faster and faster and faster, and the dancing becomes more and more frantic, because they are in this dance trying to outlast these British guys who are trying to keep up with them. It's a dance-off, but they are dancing for the right of their culture to keep existing. They are dancing because they're trying to say, "We will outlast you. We can dance longer than you. This is the spirit that you're trying to break. Let us show it to you in the form of dance." It is spectacular. The definition of spectacle.
Dave: It's a violent dance, but just to make sure it's clear, it's a joyful dance. It's fun, it's violently fast and complex, and you look at it like "Geez, that would kill me to try, but the whole time they are smiling. They are having a blast. They get everyone into it at the party. There are people who are genuinely won over by it. Obviously the one British guy isn’t, but it also the idea of, “Not only do we have this, but you f-ing love it.”
Jason: Yes, that’s the key. All these bystanders start cheering for them because, "oh, they're right!" And Bheem and Ram are smiling and happy the entire time, because they have to be. You actually see Ram, part of his dance is trying to show the evil British guy -- again, a man who is in the process of genociding his people -- trying to show him the dance, and smiling at him, giving the thumbs up, like "yeah, now you're doing it, now you're doing it!" because he has to. He can't be aggressive there; he has to blend in, like "oh yeah, we're all buddies here, we're all just friends."
Jason: There's all this subtext, and there's a reason that song got nominated and won the Golden Globe, got nominated for an Academy award, I would bet it will win. ... It is a perfect example of what spectacle can be, in that it is joyful. It is not showing off technical [effects]; it is showing off a bunch of people who had to train for weeks and choreograph for weeks and have been dancers all their lives because you can't be an Indian cinema superstar without being a great dancer and singer and everything else.
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ok i just read ur last post and i wanna say im so happy u used tolkien to create conflict instead of wendy😭😭 i dont wanna bash other writers but im so happy w the way you did things i love it
iluvshuhua asked:
ALSO i wanna say PLEASSEEE STOP BEING SO NERVOUS ABOUT RM BECAUSE IT IS SOOO GOOD😭😭😭😭 I LOVE IT😭😭😭😭
>>>>>>>>
hi darling! i hope you don't mind that i combined both you ask messages into one! i thought it might be easier to find both of your questions answered this way, so as not to send you on a wild silly goose chase! <3
i'll leave my answers under the cut! its mostly like a long winded rant about pep love interests/my reasonings and me coming to terms with feeling confident and standing by/loving rm as a fanfic <3
thank you! no shame to other writers either and forgive me for being slightly controversial, but i think painting wendy solely as the villain and making stan out to be this saint is like...quite misogynistic?
like it was definitely a two-sided situation, i think that wendy wanted stan to be something he couldn't, stan tried too hard to be too much and fell short half the time and tbh...stan did probably just blow wendy off a lot for kyle by accident because he was subconciously in love with him. which honestly...wendy is kind of a saint because that would have made me The Joker. but at the same time, i think her and bebe had a similar confusing thing going on.
...and, to me at least, they were just a square peg and a round hole. they ultimately, were not right for each other romantically ( as far as my pep headcannons go, wendy is a lesbian with comphet which...stan is very pretty i get it ) and that's okay! its confusing being a teenager, communicating is hard and stressful and you run back to what you know! you like someone and you just...really want it to work, so you fake it until you make it.
their relationship just never seemed malicious to me. one of my favorite moments in pep actually is chapter three during spin the corona bottle of truth where wendy and bebe kiss and stan and wendy had just broken up...and she looks at stan absolutely horrified because shes scared and stan just smiles at her like everything is going to be okay. it felt like really beautiful closure.
they're just...they really are platonic soulmates to me. like stan is her stan and wendy is his wendy. their souls are intertwined but not in the way they originally thought. i think her and kenny share stans best man/woman speech and bebe and marj share kyles <3 cartman please die...
speaking of cartman. i also did not want to write...sorry to be contreversial again...kyman into pep. that just...pep is really wholesome and wonderful and that was not the energy i wanted to put into it. it has very insidious energy...cartman in pep exists only to be a sort of comic relief antagonist and secretly push the style agenda and thats all.
i did write his character and a lot of the other side characters int the rm world, which is a lot gritter, a lot more fucked up and nightmarish. so look out for all your faves...but probably a little shadow shrouded.
onto tolkien...really, i just leaned pretty heavily into that episode of south park where kyle and tolkien are making the tiktok videos and stan just genuinely seems jealous and mad as hell and distraught the whole time.
like that more than making wendy into this really lame evil exgirlfiend or mucking up my nice fanfiction with evil eric cartman...having our first male lead be sad alcoholic punk rock emo boy golden retriever childhood bff secret crush who is kind of unstable and unreliable with a heart of gold vs. like beautiful well put together mysterious well spoken very reliable and stable boy billionaire...millionaire...opulent...idk hes rich.
he just felt like the right second male lead for my sweet emotional cute little heartstopper romantic coming of age dramedy.
and i felt really bad putting tolkien in that position to be villainized because he really is an amazing and warm character! but again...i did need some kind of catalyst for chaos. my apologies tolkien.
also...to me, he is really not a villian? like hes a high school senior who likes a boy. which is hard enough. you make a lot of mistakes in hs and do a lot of things you regret. like i feel like tolkien regrets saying those awful things to stan and stan vice versa. the grass is always greener and they are perfect foils.
plus i have definitely been very heinous to people i have considered my romantic rivals over stupid crushes ive had. hes not a villian...him and stan just like the same beautiful ginger boy and handled it immaturely. but they have the makings to be great friends tbh, they are both kind and lovely. i too would go to war for kyle matthew broflovski.
no tolkien slander! tolkien i'm sorry i nerfed you and fed you to the wolves in peppermint! YALL BE NICE TO TOLKIEN WHEN I WRITE HIM INTO RM! ITS MY TOLKIEN REDEMPTION ARC!
okay, moving onto the rm portion of your ask: thank you so much.
i'm so glad that you love it because i really love it! and messages like this really ground and validate me in writing my truth.
i think that a lot of my anxiety comes from how randomly successful peppermint was and the fact that it has 7k hits? 7.6k i think? but also...the tags right now are so dry, a lot of the sp fandom has died out and i am posting r.m. at a time here it is probably not going to get the same traction as peppermint...and i'm trying to tell myself that that is okay! it is just...overwhelming knowing one of your fanfictions has 500 views n the other one has 7,000.
also, another thing that made me nervous about it is that i am writing a lot more side characters into rm? which is scary because i have only really honed stan and kyle ( but i will say i do feel very comfortable writing kenny, bebe and marjs personalities...their backstories with their families is a little nervewracking though ) so i am scared of misrepresenting those side characters from a lack of information.
rm is also...kind of loose in terms of south park. it does have a strong baseline in south park but i built a very different world around it. like even raven and jersey, who very clearly from name, are stan and kyle but very different characterizations of regular stan and kyle. so i can understand why people might be heistant to read it. its a lot easier/more palatable to read pep, in the regular sp setting, with regular stan and kyle just chapstick scented...then immerse yourself into rm, get used to crazy law student jerseykyle and mysterious punk rock star ravenstan and that its in new york and...more grown up.
but! the people who love rm...really love it.
and that is enough for me to keep writing it and feel good about it.
it has a very loving and attentive fanbase in all of you, while i am still piecing it together...i do feel strongly about my lore, world building, characterization and storytelling ability through rm. and i am learning to stop beating myself up for shit i cant control. <3
rm is a good fanfiction, it makes me happy, i like it a lot, i think its cool as fuck, i think its vey iconic that the boys can flirt and get sent to horny jail in rm, i like the drama, the mystery...i would rather it be well loved intimately than put under the microscope the way i felt pep was sometimes because of its popularity.
thank you for validating me and i am excited to share my stories with you and all of you.
-uncle nina <3
#thank you for your message my friend#i am sorry it was so long i was working through a lot of complex emotions#but spark notes is...villian wendy feels misogynistic to me#i didnt want to write kyman#tolkien was just the right choice for pep which is a very coming of age sweet like kdrama drama comedy to all the boys ive loved before fic#like sweet but unstable golden retriever pretty boy childhood bff vs stable put together mysterious suave rich boy felt right to me#and tolkien is not the villian...hes just a high shcool boy who likes a boy and sometimes u make bad choices#stan also made bad choices and so did kyle...its ok#but yes i love rm#i was nervous about it being less pop then pep and being weird but...its cool i like it i worked hard on it its fun#so like if people dont like it...who cares the people that do...really do and i am one of them <3
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More Marvel X DC
Here's the first one.
I had more ideas, after all! But first a correction: Darkseid and the Yellow Lantern Corps are both DC, so I cannot mash them up. I mean, I could, but it feels wrong. I miscounted, and will be more careful in the future. Revoked!
So instead Darkseid, or more accurately Apokolips, will be Galactus. The world roams around, the fire pits are thrusters, and it invades and consumes other worlds. Like Mortal Engines, but there's only the one. And it's a planet.
Could also have the implication Galactus sometimes has, that its existence is somehow metaphysically important for the well-being of the universe, even if it comes at such a high price.
Clark Kent is Spider-man. Ace reporter, Kansas farmboy, you know him. But he's secretly also the last survivor of planet Spider, sent by his father aboard his secret, illegal spaceship/combat platform, Leopardon, which he keeps in the Arctic.
With that I suppose this isn't a pure comics mashup anymore. I'm okay with that.
Cindy Moon is Lex Luthor. But it's the evil Cindy, from Spider-Gwen's universe. Her name is Luna Luthor, her company is Silk Corp, and her attempt to create an artificial Spider-man was mostly a failure, but one sample was lost, eventually becoming the goop that would then become Gwen's suit.
Peter Parker was the Joker. When Star-spider started heroing, he wanted to also be a hero, brewed up a serum that should give him powers, but it destroyed his sanity and he became a villain instead. She fought him and killed him, and then he transformed back, thereby giving her the requisite spider-guilt.
Also because I just like spiders, both Miguel O'Hara and Peni Parker are members of the Legion of Superheroes. Though her name is now Peni Drew, after the original Spider-woman, who I think won't otherwise appear. Also also, the future company they both work for is a distant descendant of Silk Corp; they are the result of ancient research on Spider-man and Leopardon, respectively.
Queen Maxima is also Black Cat. After the requisite "you have bested me we must be wed" "i must go my planet needs me", she follows Spider-Man to Earth, where after a bit of research she decides to settle, adopting the identity of an alleged secret illegitimate daughter of a famous dead thief, the original Black Cat; while also pretending she's pretending not to be her. She does do a little thieving, but is mostly a superhero.
Also like early Black Cat, she has no patience for "Clark Kent". She understands that he's just pretending to be weak and meek, and even agrees that it makes for a very good disguise, but she barely can hide her disgust. His friends all don't understand why he tolerates her. But then when the masks come back on they are both extremely happy together.
Leaving the spiders behind for a moment, there's the Danverses, Carol and Linda, a.k.a. Supergirl and Captain Marvel. Except it's not actually Carol, instead it's Mara Vell, alien invader who decided to turn on her people and become a protector of Earth. Her uniform is Supergirl's white shirt variation, but with the kree star as her logo.
Clayface's daughter, from Batman: the Animated Series, is Miss Marvel. First, Flint Marco was Clayface, accidentally gaining powers and trying to steal money to save his sick daughter. He failed and she died, and it broke his mind; he kept trying to use his power to re-create her, but they kept dying off. Eventually he made a big effort and transferred most of his essence to her, so he was the one to die. She had no understanding of any of that, so she ran away, got put in the system, and eventually was adopted by the Khans.
She also has the Miss Marvel uniform, but with the lightning bolt replaced by an oversized kree star.
Billy Batson was judged worthy by an ancient wizard, given a magic staff the order has guarded since time immemorial, and with its power transforms into The Mighty Thor. The olde englishe speeche is definitely him making fun of everyone.
#also i guess the Clone Saga(s) should be Death/Reign/Return of Superman?#but i don't wanna#too much effort#dc#dc comics#detective comics comics#marvel#marvel comics#marvel x dc#my writing#worldbuilding is its own reward
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Not in the same format as my other two m3 ocs, which I'll probably regret later. But, hers is a lil longer which is why I think this is best. Here is a lil run down on Frances <3
This is extremely outdated. I plan on either revising this or making a new sheet.
Basic Info:
Frances Mary Allen
Born in 1933 (same age as John, but a couple months younger)
20~21 in '54
She's from LA.
Her family is upper middle class. The Allens being a lil more well off than John's. But not by too much.
Catholic, a lot more intense when being raised, but even then that was rlly just going on Sundays. As an adult she still wears cross and/or her saint, but doesn't go to Mass EVERY Sunday. She respects John's distaste for it now, and would never push him to go with her.
She went to UCLA /getting things either in line for secretary work or doing a secretary program. She is currently a secretary for job she isn't too fond of. Her boss doesn't utilize her potential and often looks down to her when she's the only reason he's a float. She takes pride in her job regardless of how much she wishes she could work someplace else
Some More on Frances:
Frances isn't shy, or a wall flower. She loves people and loves talking. John enjoys that she's so confident. She is a sweetheart though. Very friendly.
She likes going out and doing things. She loves watching plays, and her and John go to the movie theater after work, and out to dinner often. She likes dancing so yes, just very sociable. She has a gorgeous smile and is very approachable.
Frances is like utterly beautiful? I wish my art could capture it more. But like I wanted her to be a touch like more pretty than the 'average' person. Not like movie star aligned but kind of. It's one of the reasons that she caught John's eye. But anyways— kinda playing into an idea of, John picking a woman he thinks would be the best choice, she was striking, again, why he approached her in the first place. (Though, I never want it to seem like him and Frank aren't close, because they are, they worked well when they were with each other)
She isn't a push over, and can put up with some of John's shit & knows how to work with him and they do generally rather well together. But yeah, Frances is genuinely so sweet and lovely but able to carry her own.
Some Info on her Family:
Frances has an older sister (by 2 yrs), Mary Frances Allen, (get it? aha), who she is really close to. Her sister thinks Frances and John are great together, even if she doesn't like how much of a smart ass John can be. This is a relatively common feeling among her family members. Though they do worry hearing he can't disclose much of his work.
She is close to her parents, definitely close to her father. Which is something John cannot really wrap his head around. Seeing her interact with her father is kinda a weird experience for him.
Her father was a speech coach for actors. He was in business a lot especially earlier on, teaching the transatlantic accent. Though when that fizzled out, he still remained in work. Just doing things a little different.
Frank was taught """proper english""" ie. the transatlantic accent, which comes in handy for speaking clearly and appearing professional at work. (And also playing to the idea she's like 'perfect'. Movie star aligned but not, kinda what I was getting at for her appearance?)
John & Frances:
Her and John met in '54, when he's been working in the agency for nearly a year. They really hit it off, and continue to get more serious rather quickly. They dated for maybe around 2 years? I am not quite sure their timeline.
But slowly Frances began to just feel something was off. And she was kind of putting the pieces together; John may not love her the way she loves him (being as I hc John as a gay man). That's a scary realization, they were rather serious. They even brought up marriage. To have your whole world turned upside down? This is a big fight, there are tears on both sides and it's heavy, because also John feels this is kinda his last chance at being "normal". Because if there was any woman he thought he could actually settle down with, it was Frances. Regardless of how that would have hurt Frank in the long run, he wasn't thinking about that now. And to have that sort of just blow up in both of their faces was hard. And when they split, they knew they both still truly care about each other but its hard and their relationship is strained (but no resentment, just the drifted apart after the needed time away) and probably wouldn't talk again until Frances finds out he's leaving for 'Nam. Maybe even sending each other letters while he's away.
On a Lil lighter note for their relationship, John would tease her by calling her Frank rather early on. Basically since they first met. The nickname stuck, she doesn't necessarily hate it. But certainly only John can call her that. And she calls John, 'Johnny'.
Some Fun Facts I Guess? Etc Info:
She loves Fr*nk Sinatra similar to John, his favorite song is Blue Skies, whereas hers would be I've Got You Under My Skin (not in the era yet but in the 60's she'd love The S*premes)
Another more fun fact, she can handle her liquor, bc lol John is not gonna be with a girl that cannot keep up with him lol.
John can be seen randomly passing his cigarette over for her to take a drag or two, but she isn't the heaviest smoker, and rlly only smokes when she takes John's for little bit.
This is long and a but scattered not much of her story but just some stuff to kinda get a feel for her I suppose. Idk, I love Frank but I have not talked too much abt her. I though wanted to finally share something.
#just max ramblin'#m3 etc#mafia (game) —#Frances A.#looking at this again; i repeated a much and rlly didnt say much but ehhhhh thats just my head process lol#these are from the notes on my phone right; and that was from early july!?#though i know i made her a lil b4 collecting my thoughts so idk how long ive rlly had her for but aaaaa#i cannot believe ive held back even mentioning her aside from one drawing!?#tbf i dont talk abt my own characters whether theyre from my own personal works or for something else so i shouldn't be too surprised
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mentor
Today is one of the proudest days in Lucy’s career. It’s the day she signs her very first thesis approval for her very first master’s mentee. Last year, she earned enough status to teach graduate classes. This year, there’s a student who wants her to be her committee chair. It’s maybe the most important question Lucy has ever been asked.
“What about …?” Will says, but Lucy cuts him off.
“You didn’t propose to me,” she says. “I proposed to you. Most important question I’ve ever asked. Not been asked. That’s this. Probably.”
They’re in the kitchen, making a quick breakfast before they both have to leave for the day. Lucy’s taking Emma to the office with her today. That’s the best thing about having a five-year-old daughter who looks after herself. She can sit in the back of a class and never get bored. Sometimes, Lucy even thinks she’s paying attention to lectures and discussions. Today, Emma will get to witness her mother doing something truly special.
“You know, if you’re not careful, you’re gonna sound arrogant,” Will says as he spreads peanut butter on wheat toast.
Lucy clinks a glass of what was recently orange juice in the sink.
“Excuse me?” she asks hotly.
“Well, come on, babe. Think about it. You’re going around telling people how special it is that this girl picked you. Like she’d be nothing if she’d chosen someone else to be her chair.”
“That is not what I mean, and if it’s how I come across, then I’ll work on it,” Lucy says.
Will sighs a little. Lucy thinks she understands. It’s been this way since they were kids. Will is thirty-three years old, the peak age for a man (so says his devout Catholic mother), and he still hasn’t figured out he’s also great. Lucy reaches out and squeezes his shoulder. Seems like he understands, too.
“You know this has always been the part I’ve looked forward to,” Lucy says. “Being somebody’s mentor. And it’s not because I think I’m the best, or that I give the best advice, or that I’m the smartest professor in my department.”
“But you probably are,” Will says.
“I’m definitely not. But it’s not about any of that. It’s about … look, it hasn’t been that long since my MA program, you know? I remember how some people were treated by their advisors. They’d give them petty feedback for no reason. You remember that one woman I worked with whose advisor threw away her whole thesis because she just didn’t like the first draft? And then she didn’t graduate?”
“You didn’t like her.”
“That’s not the point, Will. The point is that it never should have happened. If you agree to be somebody’s mentor, then you are in it. You help them. I’d have been nothing if my chairs weren’t helpful to me.”
Never mind the guilt complex Lucy feels at being the one and only daughter of the Drs. Callaghan, whom some of her professors had certainly heard of. Never mind that at all.
“I’m sorry I said you sounded arrogant,” Will says. “I know you’re gonna be a great mentor for this girl. What’s her topic, again?”
“Speech, silence, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” Lucy says.
Will laughs. He puts his toast down on a plate, grabs Lucy’s face in his hands, and kisses her. Lucy, unfortunately, still blushes at him.
“The Lucy-est of topics,” he says.
Lucy grins. She squeezes Will’s hands tightly, then spins around and looks for her keys. They’re on the kitchen table.
“I should go,” she says. “These grad students aren’t going to mentor themselves.”
“You’re damn right,” Will says. “Hey.”
“Hey?”
“Proud of you.”
Lucy grins. She picks up her keys and heads for the front door of their apartment.
“Of you, too.”
She doesn’t explain before she leaves. Will understands.
(part of @nosebleedclub march challenge -- day 16!)
#drabble#writeblr#ch: lucy callaghan#ch: will o'connor#ship: c'est la vie say the old folks#year: 2000
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REVIEW
Twice Knightley in my Bed by Serenity Woods
Hartfield House 1
Another wonderful book by one of my favorite authors – I know that when I start one of Serenity Woods’ books I will always finish with a smile on my face!
What I liked:
* Emily Woodruff: young woman who enjoys life, has had a few rough years nursing her mother, works hard to maintain the HWH, good daughter, sister, and friend – sweet and easy going with something preying on her mind
* Lee “Knightly” Knight: veterinarian, oldest of three brothers, son of a murderer, taken in as foster child with his brothers by Emily’s parents, kind, good friend, strong shoulder to lean on – has a past that is impacting his future
* Hugh Woodruff: Emily’s father, good man, widow, great father, cares for not only his three children but all of the foster children he and his wife took in – was intrigued by him and his story
* The siblings of both Knightley and Emily
* The wedding of John Knight and Bella Woodruff and their backstory – wonder how their lives will move forward after the wedding
* Rob and Gabe – two siblings that haven’t met their perfect people yet…or perhaps they have?
* The other people working at the hospital and wondering if some of them will be included in the series, too
* The sweet relationship between Knightley and Emily that soon becomes a whole lot more – their communication, chemistry, trust, respect, and support of one another was wonderful
* The disease aspect of the story that was so much a part of the story
* All of it really except…
What I didn’t like:
* Knowing that horrible diseases exist and the impact they have on people
* Thinking about what the Knight brothers when through when they lost both parents
Did I enjoy this book? Yes
Would I read more in this series? Definitely
Thank you to the author for the ARC – This is my honest review.
5 Stars
BLURB
It’s been zero days since I realized I’m in love with Leander Knight.
Lee, or Knightley as everyone calls him, is my brother’s best mate, and he’s always treated me like his kid sister. Okay, so he might not put cockroaches in my lunchbox and lizards down my neck anymore, but even though we work together every day at Hartfield Wildlife Hospital, he’s never seemed interested in me in that way.
And then something changed. Maybe it was when I walked past him in my bikini, and he lost the power of speech. Or perhaps it was when I found out that an old girlfriend nicknamed him Twice Knightley, and I realized she wasn’t referring to his appetite for food. A switch flicked in my brain, and now I can’t stop thinking about him in a very un-brotherly way.
So far, I’ve kept it to myself. Nothing can come of it. Knightley’s past holds too many demons for him to consider settling down, and anyway, I’ve got to make sure I even have a future before I choose who I’m going to share it with.
But then, after my sister’s wedding, I arrive at the hotel to discover they’ve no reference to my booking. Knightley invites me to crash in his room, insisting he’ll take the sofa. I say yes, because I’m convinced we’re both grownups who can resist the undeniable growing attraction between us.
But he’s so gorgeous… and he smells so good… And then he kisses me, and everything else goes out the window…
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Wedding Day ! | 𝕳𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖘
Fluff & NSFW headcanons on your wedding day/night with some of the AOT boys!
! Slight NSFW !
Warnings: Alcohol, mentions of sex, pregnancy. Fem ! reader.
Majority of this is fluff, but there are mentions of !BEEP! sooo yeah.
Characters: Armin, Eren, Erwin, Jean, Levi
a/n: I have to take my SAT tomorrow, please wish your girl good luck for those sweet, sweet good grades....
𝕬𝖗𝖒𝖎𝖓 𝕬𝖗𝖑𝖊𝖗𝖙 ~
Helps you plan the wedding and possibly loves it even more than you do. He’s a sucker for quality time.
Armin would prefer a small or medium-sized wedding. If you want a large wedding though, there’s no way he’s holding you back from having it.
100% a beach wedding. No doubt.
The venue is BEAUTIFUL. Spent countless nights researching and visiting places to make sure you got the best.
Eren is chosen as the best man, although Armin feels guilty for having to pick only one out of all his friends.
On the day of the wedding, Armin is a panicking mess. Eren and Jean literally have to give him a pep talk before he goes to stand at the alter.
Practiced deep breathing techniques before the wedding. Unfortunately, they aren’t working.
When you finally walk down the isle, Armin starts crying softly. Eren put his hand on his shoulder to comfort him......which just made him sob harder. He cried multiple times during the wedding.
Your wedding rings are the set his grandfather and grandmother shared :’)
Specifically told the bartender not to serve Connie and Sasha more than 3 drinks. He doesn’t trust them making their own alcohol-related decisions at his wedding.
Armin isn’t a dancer but....he practiced how to slow dance just for you.
Shy at first when it comes to the more fast-paced dancing, but Jean coaxes him into it, and he ends up having a lot of fun.
The speeches are so nice!!! But mostly because Armin asked Mikasa to read them over before hand to make sure they were okay.
After the wedding ends and everyone has left, you and Armin sit and watch the waves at night.
NSFW below !
The beach was reserved...meaning it is now completely deserted. I am now politely reminding you, Armin is not a saint. Honeymoon sex on the beach, anybody?
The sex is slow and sweet; he takes his time with you and kisses you all over. It’s 100% the definition of, “making love.”
If you’re down for a kid right now, Armin’s down for a kid right now. He WILL try for a baby with you if it’s what you want.
After you made a mess of yourselves in the sand...Armin would probably let you sleep for a little bit as he watched the waves. He doesn’t want it to end yet.
When he’s finally content, he would carry you back to the hotel, trying not to wake you.
Super considerate dusting the sand off you, and then tucking you in bed. He’s totally cuddling you to sleep, too.
𝕰𝖗𝖊𝖓 𝕵𝖆𝖊𝖌𝖊𝖗 ~
Pretty much gives you full control of the wedding planning; he only has a few requests.
Eren would be the type of dude to invite friends, friends of friends, and friends of friends of friends. Your wedding is gonna be packed.
Has no idea what kind of wedding he prefers.
Please, god, don’t let him pick the venue. He will go to the first one, look around, and go, “Yeah, this is pretty nice.” That’s how you’ll end up getting married at an AirBNB with a nice backyard hidden behind the local Walmart.
Doesn’t know if he should make Armin or Zeke the best man, so he flips a coin to decide. It landed on Armin, and from that day on, Zeke was super salty.
Tries to convince you to try on the wedding dress/suit the day before. He can’t sleep that night because he’s so keyed up thinking about how pretty you’ll look.
On the day of the wedding, he’s super fucking ecstatic and practically bouncing all over the place.
Eren would get kind of impatient when waiting at the isle, to the point it would annoy the groomsmen. Jean came so close to saying something but was thankfully stopped by Armin.
When you finally walk down the isle, he’s BEAMING. He tears up a little bit out of happiness, but nothing too extreme.
Armin had to help him pick out the wedding rings otherwise you would’ve ended up with one of those plastic spider rings you win at Chuck e. Cheese’s.
Eren gets so fucking drunk you’re worried you might have to carry him back to the room by the end of the night.
Jean literally nit-picks everything Eren does the whole night....which almost ends up resulting in a drunken bar fight...at your wedding. It ends up fine, though, because Levi and Mikasa step in as bodyguards.
You SWEAR Mikasa is giving you dirty looks. Likewise, Eren SWEARS he’s getting dirty looks from Levi.
He does alright slow-dancing, but is so tipsy and distracted by how attractive you are to him, he’s kinda just....trying his best.
Absolutely OBLITERATES the dance floor when the fast-paced songs come on...
WILD assortment of speeches. Mikasa is crying, Armin’s reading a poem, Floch’s trying to get you to join his cult, Zeke is crying......and Eren is sitting there like, “Is this almost over.” You’d think it was America’s got talent, or something.
When the wedding ends, he 100% drags you to your favorite fast-food restaurant. Still in your wedding attire. Seriously, this dude is crazy, but he’s fun.
NSFW below !
When you get back to the hotel, he lets you eat your food--and then he fucks the shit out of you.
Way, way, way more rough than usual; super passionate sex. Multiple rounds, too. You don’t even KNOW how he has this much stamina by the end of the night.
Not even TRYING to get you pregnant, but his dumbass probably accidentally would.
Good luck trying to walk tomorrow!!!
When he’s finally tired, he is GONE. Like, you could scream bloody-murder and he still wouldn’t wake up.
𝕰𝖗𝖜𝖎𝖓 𝕾𝖒𝖎𝖙𝖍 ~
You can TRY and take that wedding planner from Erwin--the only way he’d give it to you is if you pried it from his cold, dead hand(s).
Tells people he’s married MONTHS before the wedding.
Everyone.....and I mean EVERYONE.....knows you’re getting married. he will walk up to strangers and brag about you.
Erwin invites everyone he sees. Elderly woman crossing the street? Invited. Barista at the coffee shop? Invited. Guy on the bus who offered him a seat? Invited.
All those people attend the wedding, too. Why? Everyone knows and loves Erwin. So when your wedding is literally PACKED with people you have never seen before--you’re only slightly surprised.
You know those reality shows where they have HUGE, expensive weddings? Your wedding would put theirs to shame. Erwin goes ALL OUT.
The venue? A literal castle. How did he manage to book and afford a castle? Don’t question it.
Your wedding dress doesn’t have a budget. Seriously, your wedding is crazy expensive--and straight out of a fairy tale.
You’re pretty sure Levi made himself the best man--and Erwin was fine with it.
Is super excited on the day of the wedding. He knows it’s going to be perfect; he got his eyebrows done just for the occasion.
When you walk down that isle his smile is SO BRIGHT. he is SHINING.
Yeah, those wedding rings? Imported from Italy, plastered with giant, real, diamonds. You will never be able to say Erwin doesn’t spoil you.
Pretty chill wedding, nothing’s too rowdy and everyone’s still having a good time.
Whispers sweet nothings and tells you how happy he is the whole night. He can’t go five minutes without saying, “I love you.”
Just TRY to get him to stop holding your hand; he won’t.
Erwin is so good at slow-dancing??? And he’s so careful with you, too. 100% the one in the lead, but he’s spinning and dipping you so sweetly. Not to mention the way he’s looking at you...
He’s a serious guy a lot of the time, but I honest to god believe in the sweetest way possible, you would genuinely have a really fun time fast-pace dancing with him. You would both be laughing at each other’s moves.
Majority of the speeches are super nice. Hange tried to get Levi to say something, brought him up to the stage and....he starred at the crowd for a couple awkward seconds, then walked off. He conveyed his message through his eyes, I guess?
The wedding is so long you weren’t sure it was ever going to end...
Hotel? Nah he booked that castle, that’s where you’re spending the night...
NSFW below !
You’re fucking in the king bed tonight baby, literally.
Pays attention to your needs/wants the WHOLE NIGHT. Seriously, he’s a soft dom, and makes sure you’re more than satisfied.
Tons of body worship?? He’s so sweet and careful with you.
Erwin secretly really, really wants to give you his babies and start a family with you on the honeymoon. If you’re willing, he will make sure he gets you pregnant; you’re getting no sleep.
After you’re done, he will run you two a bath and clean you off. He adds in a little bonus massage, too.
When you get in bed, he pets your head, cuddling you until you fall asleep. You could’ve sworn you saw him smiling before you drifted off to sleep.
𝕵𝖊𝖆𝖓 𝕶𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖈𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖎𝖓 ~
Jean would definitely help you plan the wedding--he values romance a lot, so having the perfect wedding for him and you, is important. He also doesn’t want to put all the weight on you.
Brags to his friends that he’s getting married--they all get tired of hearing about it.
Normal sized wedding--not too many, but not small, either. Lots of family and friends.
The venue is at a barn. Yes, he picked a barn. it’s a nice venue, too; the only problem is that he’s not going to be able to escape those horse jokes.
Marco is chosen as the best man--and when Connie hears about it, he sulks for a few days. He gets over it eventually, though.
He’s kind of nervous the day of--but Marco reassures him and teaches his some deep-breathing techniques.
Keeps his cool until he goes to stand at the alter--and then he’s in full-blown panic mode. “What if I can’t make her happy?” “What if she runs away with Eren?” meanwhile, Eren is standing right there with the other groomsmen, like “wtf?”
When you walk down the isle--he’s super overwhelmed. He feels a huge sense of relief you didn’t ditch him and run away, but also metaphorically hit by a semi-truck of emotions since he realized he’s ACTUALLY getting married. There’s a little bit of happy crying.
His mom picked out your wedding rings; you only find out when she brags about it--and Jean yells at her for telling you.
His wedding gift to you is a giant portrait he drew of you--and on the back, there’s a message in French. He won’t tell you what it says, but you’re pretty sure it’s an oath to love and protect you ‘till the day he dies.
He does pretty well slow-dancing. His mom also mentions he begged her to practice with him so he didn’t mess up.
He’s a little worried about making himself look like a fool dancing in front of you--but for you, he does it anyways; You both laugh your asses off and have a lot of fun.
The speeches make Jean look like he wants to drop dead from embarrassment. He’s not sure what’s worse--Connie and Sasha doing karaoke, Eren making horse jokes, or his mom telling all of his embarrassing baby stories.
After everyone leaves, Jean takes you to look at the animals before you leave, too.
NSFW below !
As for honeymoon sex; you better not make a horse joke, otherwise you’re getting laid in that fucking barn. Maybe. He threatens that, but you know he wouldn’t want to have sex there on your wedding night. He’s 100% down for another time, though.
A mix of rough and sweet at the same time--he does the right things at the right times.
Is a lot more passionate and soft than usual--very careful with your body, and makes sure to really take everything in; He wants to remember the night for as long as he lives.
Immaculate aftercare; and on top of that, he lets you fall asleep in his arms, occasionally kissing your forehead.
Bonus: he sings you to sleep.
𝕷𝖊𝖛𝖎 𝕬𝖈𝖐𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖓 ~
Lets you plan the wedding, but looks it over and makes sure there’s nothing too crazy happening. He, somehow, is worried you’re going to plan a circus or something else ridiculous to show up.
No one knows you’re getting married until the envelopes are mailed to family and friends. In fact, some people didn’t even know you were together.
Pretty small wedding, it’s mostly people who are very close to you two. It has a very homey-feel.
The venue HAS to be indoors. Levi thinks an outdoor wedding is unsanitary--so you end up getting married in a banquet hall.
Erwin is 1000% the best man. You don’t even have to ask, you already know it’s going to be Erwin.
Is literally shaking and sweating his ass off he’s so nervous the day of the wedding--if anyone asks, though, he swears he is fine. Has no idea it’s completely obvious he’s on the verge of absolutely freaking out.
Erwin and Hange try to get him to relax--but he continues to deny that he is in fact, NOT calm.
When you walk down the isle and he makes eye contact with you--his brain short-circuits. His mind literally stops working and is constantly repeating, “p...p...pre....pretty..” the whole damn time.
Mentally saves the image of you in your dress/suit to use as his motivation to always come home to you.
Tries to remain expressionless, but is literally tomato-red and on the verge of crying; he never thought he’d be able to find happiness--it feels like everything is finally going to be okay. Erwin is smiling like a proud dad, and Hange is trying to suppress their amazement that the dude’s showing emotion.
Your wedding rings are fairly plain--but on the inside of the bands, both of your names are etched.
He won’t read the vows out loud, he simply hands you a letter and tells you to read it another time.
When the time comes to kiss--Levi literally hides behind you and shyly pulls you in. The view the audience gets is your back--and they aren’t sure whether to clap or not.
Your wedding gift to him was a giant assortment of different teas--and he genuinely seemed really excited to try them. He didn’t realize it, but when he mentioned tasting them, he said, “with you” at the end.
Has no idea how to slow dance. Erwin tried to help him, but it didn’t do much, so you teach him on the spot. Your first dance, he concentrates really hard on not messing up, eyebrows furrowed and all.
Doesn’t know how to dance fast-pace either, in fact, he’s pretty confused. You have to grab the man and force him out of his comfort zone, spinning him and all. Hange and the Survey Corp members are laughing their ass off at his bewildered face.
The speeches went pretty well--except for when Hange didn’t stop talking; Levi threatened to force them off the stage, and you don’t think he was joking.
The wedding was fairly short--but only because Levi rushed everyone home; he just wanted to drag you off and keep you to himself for the rest of the day.
After the wedding, he takes you to a spot nearby to watch the sunset. He has a soft smile, and you can tell he’s genuinely happy.
You take HIM back to the hotel--he would’ve been fine staying there just a little longer, in the peace of it all.
NSFW below !
You’re literally taking his virginity. He saved himself for marriage; he wanted to make sure he gave himself to the right person.
Very nervous--and kind of insecure, too. He isn’t sure what you’ll think of him, and he’s worried about you seeing his scars. He STILL isn’t completely convinced you really want him.
Lots of body worship and reassuring him; he melts at your touch.
Once he gets comfortable and into it, he repeats “I love you” a lot.
He doesn’t last very long...but keeps going until you get off, too. He’s still a little confused by everything, so you have to teach him.
He’s half asleep after cumming--but still insists the two of you need to get in the shower.
Was too tired to stand, so you took a bath together instead. He falls asleep, leaning on you, when you massage his head.
You end up being unable to wake him up--the man is dead tired from not only sleep deprivation, the long day, but also his first time.
You can’t get him out of the bathtub, either--he’s too bulky to lift. You expected him to be much lighter due to his height, but his muscle makes him a lot more heavy.
Hange and Erwin have to be called to haul his ass--naked--out of the tub and into the bed. Hange is of no help since they’re laughing so hard--and Erwin is helping, but trying so hard not to break face and laugh too.
After they leave, you cover him up and cuddle into his frame; you could swear you heard a quiet, “thank you.”
#levi#levi ackerman#levi ackerman headcannon#levi ackerman headcanons#levi x reader#eren#eren jaeger#eren headcanons#eren x reader#eren jeager fluff#eren jeager headcanons#eren jeager x reader#jean kirschstein#jean kirschtein x reader#jean kirschtein headcanons#jean kirschtein scenarios#erwin smith#erwin smith headcanons#armin headcanons#armin arlet headcanons#armin arlet fluff#armin arlet x reader#levi fluff#shingeki no kyoujin x reader#snk imagines#aot imagines#aot headcanons#snk headcanons#levi headcanons#armin x reader
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niagara falls of blood?
avengers x fem!teen!reader
summary: pretty much what the title is, you on your period
warnings: your moodswings ig
word count: 2765
"rise and shine, y/n!" you hear an annoying voice sing just as the lights flickered on. you grumbled something inaudible, hiding underneath your blanket to shield yourself from the brightness that steve just brought upon your room.
"y/n/n, come on. wakey-wakey!" you groan, feeling super unmotivated to train today. you even felt like punching steve in his perfect-looking face just for waking you up at the crack ass of dawn. this was unusual because you loved jogs before the sun came up and trainings before it hit noon.
"steve, if you don't shut the hell up right now, i'm gonna push you into that lake beside our usual jogging route."
"jeez, y/n, woke up on the wrong side or what?" he teases, finally leaving once he saw you were already sitting up. you groggily walked to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth before changing into your workout clothes.
"no!" you whine when you saw that you were on your period. that's why you were in a crappy mood when steve woke you up. you begrudgingly dressed up after putting on a pad, grabbing a small towel on the way out.
like you did every morning, you were gonna go on a run with steve, bucky and sam. while you loved running, you hated how steve and bucky "cheated" —as you and sam liked to call it— with their super soldier staminas. that was why you loved having sam there. not only was he great company but he was also moral support because you two would always be hilariously overtook by steve and bucky multiple times. but that didn't matter because you two would always be completely immersed in your conversations every time.
but not today though. you already knew today was going to be different. you had gotten a bad start to the day with steve's and your usual morning routine which somehow annoyed you this one time. and having to run around with your cramps definitely didn't help lighten your mood.
"kid, you okay?" sam asks from your right side. you'd been silent throughout the whole run and sam knew something was up when you didn't laugh at his jokes like how you usually would. "just cramps. they're hurting a lot so i'm probably gonna skip training today." you explain and he slowed down his pace causing you to slow down too since you always had to run side by side.
"y/n/n, you should probably stop now if you're having cramps. it might make it worse—i think? i don't know, actually. i don't know how periods work but i know cramps hurt a lot so i think you should stop. yeah, you should stop." his rambling speech made you feel a bit better now knowing he wants you to take care of yourself. "you know what? yeah, i think i'm gonna go. sorry i have to leave you with the two cheaters."
he smiled at you, telling you not to worry about it. you were touched and your mood significantly brightened but before you could reply him, rhythmic footsteps echoed from a distance from behind you two and you knew what was coming.
"on your left."
before steve and bucky could just pass by peacefully like they did the past nine times, you managed to throw a punch to steve's side, effectively slowing him down when he stumbled and then completely stopped. "what gives, y/n?!" bucky then stopped too, wanting to know what was up.
"that's for this morning." you glared at him and he looked at you in confusion, holding onto his side where you punched him. though you were significantly smaller than he was—than any of them were, really—, you could definitely throw a punch. speaking of punch, you gave him another on his other side and he flinched, giving you an incredulous look, one that resembled betrayal.
"and that's for being a cheater." you narrowed your eyes at him. "oN yOuR LeFt." you mocked him, rolling your eyes before ultimately leaving the trio to walk back to the tower. they looked at your fading figure and exchanged looks with each other in confusion. "what...what just happened?"
"y/n's on her period so we gotta be careful with her." sam explained and steve being steve, his cheeks tinted slight pink as the thought slightly embarrassed him.
"period? you mean the niagra falls of blood," bucky states, taking a long sip out his water bottle. sam rolled his eyes at this but nodded anyways. "also, she doesn't want training today so unless any of you have a death wish, don't call her down for anything other than for food, got it?"
"yes, sir."
"got it."
-
"you do it,"
"i don't want to, you do it."
"can one of you just do it? why don't you guys want to wake y/n up?" nat stopped bucky and steve's little argument as she turned away from the stove for a bit. "you two love waking her up and carrying her down to eat. what happened?"
"womanhood happened," steve mumbled bitterly, rubbing his sides where you hit him this morning. apparently you had hit him hard enough to bruise a little. nat rolled her eyes in realisation. "period?"
"no, no, not period. satan's montly ritual inside of y/n. you should've seen her this morning, nat. it was like she was possessed!" steve exaggerates. "okay, let's not be dramatic here," bucky rolls his eyes at his best friend. steve only looked at him with fear in his eyes and bucky sighs. "fine, i'll do it. but if i don't return, tell sam he still can't have my snacks. no one can have my snacks."
nat only shakes her head before turning back to the stove to finish cooking lunch.
meanwhile, bucky was making his way up to your room. deep down he was scared to face you after your episode in the morning. "y/n/n? doll, it's lunch." he spoke when he entered your room. he melted when he saw you all snuggled up in bed, asleep, hugging your life-sized teddy bear that tony gifted you last christmas.
"doll? time to eat," he whispered, gently shaking you awake. you slowly opened your eyes to see bucky sitting on your bed, trying to wake you up from your nap. "what time is it?" you asked, rubbing your eyes, your lips jutting out subconsciously. bucky internally cooed at how adorable you looked. "it's afternoon, you skipped breakfast so nat wants you to eat lunch." he tells you.
"tell her i'm sleepy," you said, adjusting yourself back under the blanket. "y/n/n, you gotta eat. nat's gonna kill me if i go back down there without you." he shakes you again and you look up at him with you doe eyes. "then don't go back down. cuddle me, jamesie!" you pouted, giving him your best sad puppy look.
he had a brief internal battle with himself before losing and giving in, slipping next to you and hugging you, providing you warmth that even your blanket couldn't provide. bucky knew nat would have his head but how could he say no to that adorable face? and you using his real name? ultimate weakness.
soon, you were back asleep, cuddling up to him. he smiled down at you, loving how peaceful you seemed when you were sleeping. and before he knew it, he too fell asleep.
-
"what's taking him so long?" nat huffed and steve's jaw dropped slightly, looking at her in worry. "who's telling sam he can't have bucky's snacks?"
"don't be ridiculous, steve. go get them or i'm telling sam he can't have your snacks too." steve sighs, getting up from the barstool and making his way up to your room.
safe to say he was expecting pretty much anything but the sight of you and bucky asleep, cuddled up to each other. steve's lips jutted out and he cooed at you both. he snapped a quick picture before approaching you two, sitting on your bed beside your sleeping figure.
"y/n/n? sweetie, you need to eat." he says softly as he shook you awake. the shaking seemed to wake bucky up too and when your eyes fluttered open, steve smiled down at you. "bubba? it's lunch," he looks over at bucky in disappointment for having fallen asleep when he had a task. bucky only shrugs his shoulders as if saying 'hey man, i had no choice'.
"stevie?" you groaned out and he smiled. "come on, let's go have lunch, nat is waiting downstairs." he tries to get you to sit up but you resist. "come sleep, stevie," you pulled the same trick you did with bucky and it's no surprise the blond super-soldier fell for it too. everyone had a soft spot for you.
steve laid next to you and you're then sandwiched between two super-soldiers, already falling back asleep in just seconds.
"you know nat's gonna kill us, right buck?"
"then let her try. we can use y/n/n to get out of it. i mean, can you even recall the last time anyone said no to that adorable face?"
"sam says no to her sometimes."
"yeah but he always ends up feeling bad so,"
"okay yeah, you're right."
"that's exactly why we're stuck in this situation, right dear ol' stevie? so i say we just sleep and if nat tries to scold us, we'll technically be under y/n/n's protection because nat won't scream in our faces in front of her."
"good call. night, buck."
"night, steve."
-
"i can't believe i sent two super-soldier idiots to go wake up y/n on her period. i didn't think they meant it literally when they were afraid they weren't gonna come back." nat paces around the kitchen and wanda watches in amusement. it had been almost a whole hour since bucky was sent to get you and thirty minutes since steve was sent to do so too and both men hadn't returned with you for lunch.
"do you really think y/n/n is having a temper tantrum or something and those idiots are caught in the middle of it?" nat asks and wanda shook her head. "i doubt. y/n can get a little cranky but only if provoked. y/n on her period is overall a sweetheart like she always is. maybe steve was being annoying this morning. i mean, he always is annoying during morning jogs because he always has to announce when he overtakes us." wanda rolls her eyes at the fact.
"okay, you know what? come with me to get them. i mean with our joint forces, there's no way we're going to get sucked into whatever those idiots did. let's go,"
nat didn't give the younger woman a chance to reply before she's storming upstairs to your room and wanda had no choice but to rush along.
-
"well? are we going to wake them up or what?" wanda asks nat, not taking her eyes off the adorable sight she was met with right as she entered your room.
"i want to get mad at steve and bucky for not waking her up because she hasn't eaten yet but somehow i can't." nat states, looking like she's having an existential crisis.
"well, no lunch for these three, i guess. they better have dinner though or i'm actually going to get mad. let's go, wands." nat closes your door, but not before snapping a pic of you three cuddled up and sending it to the group chat.
nat: [attached photo]
peter: OMG SHE LOOKS SO TINY AND ADORABLE SQUISHED IN BETWEEN THOSE TWO 🥺🥺🥺
tony: IS THAT SAFE? CAN MY BABY EVEN BREATHE PROPERLY?????? NAT WHY ARE YOU JUST LETTING IT HAPPEN
wanda: stark, she's fine
thor: aw, i hope lady y/n gets all the rest she needs. she looks peaceful 🥰
clint: wait no fair i wanna cuddle her too 🥺😭
sam: dang it does this mean i still can't have bucky's snacks
bucky: stay away from my snacks.
-
"look who finally decided to show." you hear tony tease when you finally came down to dinner.
after waking up an hour prior, you woke up the two super-soldiers sandwiching you by pushing them off your bed. they couldn't even be mad at you when you had burst out in contagious laughter at your own stunt, before leaving to let you wash up.
"how are you feeling, sweetie?" bruce asks you as you sat in between him and tony on the dining table. "i'm good, bruce, why do you ask?"
"we've been hearin' a lot about you today, cupcake." tony winks at you before continuing to eat his food. you pout at him. "bad things?"
"no, no, no, not bad things, never bad things. you're the sweetest little cupcake and everyone loves you. now eat your food," tony pretends to make an angry face at you and you listen to him, smiling as you do so.
after dinner, you decided to lounge in the common room for a bit to watch tv and thor, clint, wanda and sam decide to join you.
"what are we watching?" sam asks as he plops down next to you on the couch. "i don't know, i'm kinda in the mood to watch my little pony." you quipped happily. "my little pony? that stupid ponies cartoon where the purple unicorn has magic and becomes a princess?"
"it's not stupid," you muttered under your breath, suddenly getting upset that he thought my little pony was stupid. "if you guys don't want to watch, i guess we can watch whatever you want." you told the rest who were already seated, a sad expression on your face.
"bubs! of course we want to watch it! right, sam?" wanda glares at sam as she asked him through gritted teeth. "y–yes! yes, we'll watch my little pony!" he replies quickly. "okay!" you cheer, leaning back against the couch as you turned the show on.
after an episode was done, you seemed to have gotten the others hooked on it because they asked for another episode. well, except for sam because he decided one episode was enough and it was time to sleep so he left.
"okay," you giggled, happy that they liked the show. "but i'm going to go get my snacks first." you walked to the kitchen to quickly get your bag of pretzels from the pantry. you were pretty sure it was the period moodswings that were causing your emotions to be all over the place because you cried. you cried because you were so excited to go get your snacks, only to find that it had been stolen.
you trudged back into the living room with a tear-stained face and wanda immediately stands up. "bubs, what's wrong?" she held both your shoulders as she looked down at you. you hiccup. "i–i think pete took my pretzel sticks." you pouted to try keep the incoming tears at bay but they managed to drop anyways.
"i'll kill him," clint stands up, hands held out in a fighting stance. "how dare he steal y/n/n's snacks." wanda rolls her eyes at his antics and gives him a look that tells him to back down.
"lady y/n," thor calls from his spot on the couch. you turn to him. "i have a stash of poptarts if you want?" he offered and as kind as his intentions were, you only wanted your pretzel sticks. you dropped down to the floor, staring silently into nothing.
"y/n," clint places a hand on your shoulder, trying to get you to get up but you didn't. you looked up at him with a small pout and glossy eyes and he cracked. "alright, thor, come with me to the grocery store. we're getting y/n/n's snacks,"
thor immediately gets up, following clint out the door. you couldn't believe that the avengers' own archer and god of thunder were willing to go out just to buy you snacks.
twenty minutes later, they came back with bags of different snacks but most importantly, your pretzel sticks. you ran to them, giving them the biggest hug you could give, prompting chuckles and hair ruffles from them. "anything for you, kiddo."
despite having just gotten your snack, you fell asleep ten minutes into the next episode and thor goes to carry you back to your room. he sets you down gently on your bed, pulling your blanket up so that you were warm.
"sleep well, lady y/n." he kisses the side of your head before leaving. and sleep well you did because you had an awesome family take care of you.
taglist <3
@amourtentiaa
#avengers x teen!reader#avengers x reader#avengers fluff#bucky barnes x teen!reader#steve rogers x teen!reader#tony stark x teen!reader#natasha romanoff x teen!reader#wanda maximoff x teen!reader#thor odinson x teen!reader#clint barton x teen!reader#sam wilson x teen!reader#bruce banner x teen!reader#marvel x teen!reader
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Achilles x Patroclus Explained: for anyone who needs it plainly mapped out for them one more time.
The Iliad:
-Most obviously there is a Special Relationship between Achilles x Patroclus
-Achilles and Patroclus share a Bed & Tent, Patroclus also does all the “domestic” work for the 2 of them on top of being a soldier
-”But he had Briseis who he was going to marry”, despite only bragged about her because she was a war prize taken by Agamemnon thus taking his honor, he was “locker room talking for the boys” when in reality he had no sexual contact/dimension/relationship with her yet. He also knew the prophecy he wasn’t coming back from Troy so this is one of two reasons we can say that they have no plans together, (see bullet point one for second reason) and then later he wishes Artemis had killed her way back when they were raiding cities. It is also inferable that Patroclus had planted this seed of thought in her mind to put her at ease with Achilles as well as protect his honor because Patroclus is always there for Achilles (Achilles does take Briseis into his bed in Book 24 but again totally as a spoil of war... she is a conquest not a lover)
-Greeks know Achilles will only listen to Patroclus, Especially Nestor who goes to Patroclus to persuade Achilles to re-enter the fight
-When Achilles receives Patroclus’s body his first thought is to end himself with a sword because he does not want to live in a world without Patroclus
-Achilles’s rage at the death of Patroclus and wishing he had let all the Greeks die and they conquered Troy together
-Refusal to eat & sleep while weeping for days on end in bed with Patroclus’s body
-Andromache’s speech about Hector, forsaking all her other loved ones for her husband, aka her one true love and then Achilles giving the almost exact same speech right after about Patroclus his “beloved”
-Achilles kills Hector (Gods even fear his rage and that such emotion could cause war to end before prophesied) aka Achilles could change fate because he so “grieved” for Patroclus - totally homies right?!
-Achilles drags Hectors body from his chariot damaging and defiling the corpse for days; Angering the gods, to which he doesn’t care
-Thetis then comes to Achilles, to which he wants none of her comfort, during their conversation she also has to suggest AND specify for him to now have sex with a woman and maybe find a wife before his life is over (why does she have to specify “woman” & who/what was keeping him from getting a wife)
-Achilles tosses and turns sleeplessly (body of Patroclus is still kept in his bed) and he longs for Patroclus’s “μένος” (menos) which in ancient greek translates to “Might - Manhood - Vigor - Semen” plainly speaking “Spunk” (both kinds!)
-Achilles reaches to embrace the ghost of Patroclus when he appears before him - desiring to physically touch
-Achilles plays the role of the woman and/or wife of the deceased when they burn Patroclus’s body on the funeral pyre and then collects the ashes himself and puts them in the golden urn. Achilles then charges the men to do the same to him when he dies putting his ashes in the same golden urn and burying them together so that they will physically be together for all eternity - which does happen
-LITERALLY ACHILLES x PATROCLUS
Most Ancient Greeks, Shakespeare, Artists & Intellectuals:
ACTUAL Greek Artwork from 500 BCE (currently resides on display in Germany)
-There is no reference to this moment in any record or story. In this depiction Achilles wraps Patroclus’s arm while he sits between his open legs, and Patroclus lets his dick hang out, while Achilles’s is visible as well, super intimate for “bros”
-Later greeks assumed or imagined their relationship as Pederastic (An older “erastes” lover & an “eromenos” younger beloved) because that was the norm of that period but no one could definitely decide who was the top and who was the bottom
**SIDE NOTE They do not have an age gap to support the Pederastic Theory AND after the pederastic relationship ended the men involved married women which we know neither Achilles nor Patroclus had nor plans to do
-Plato totally thought Achilles was a Bottom in his “Symposium”
-Aeschylus (the literal inventor of Greek Tragedy) portrayed Achilles & Patroclus as lovers in his lost play “The Myrmidons” which was based on The Iliad. Surviving lines from the play are of Achilles speaking of “Patroclus’s Reverent Company, his thighs, and being ungrateful for many kisses”
-345 BCE = Athenian politician, Aeschines states in a speech during his trial that Homer didn’t have to say what they were because 1. the Greeks were more sexually fluid then 2. there wasn’t a word for “Homosexual” 3. Homer was a storyteller and ANY educated man knew what they were, like its THAT obvious
-Alexander the Great and his lover Haphaestion (this is a whole other can of worms still being fought) liked to think of themselves, and referred to each other as “Achilles & Patroclus”
-Shakespeare features the two in his play “Troilus and Cressida” in which Patroclus is called “Achilles’s Brach” aka “Achilles’s Bitch”
-Renaissance Artists & those onward armed with their skill, knowledge, and obsession with all things ancient painted numerous depictions of the two, usually scenes of Achilles receiving Patroclus’s body, and for “buddies” they sure love painting them showing A LOT of skin
-By roughly the 1960′s & 70′s historians and scholars started talking about them openly again with the
“ARE WE READY TO STOP PLAYIN’ AND OPENLY ACKNOWLEDGE THEM AS ‘YOU KNOW’”
All joking aside we still have a select number of Historians, Scholars, and Hollywood still holding out:
-What about Briseis!? (see above) they both also do sleep with a woman each but sadly here they are seen more as conquest and war prizes than actual lovers - again there is a fluidity
-Achilles was a HERO! Best of the Greeks -He’s always shown as A MAN’S MAN! YET in a separate myth (see Achilleid) his mother Thetis was able to hide him among a group of girly girls on Skyros to which he was perfectly disguised and has a one night stand with the princess again showing their regard for sexual fluidity. ALSO Do not disrespect that he was a manly hero and a femboy! This also explains how his son comes to be - again this is a completely separate myth and origin
-Could they be cousins!? (NO)
-**Closing Eyes** Homo-erotic? WHERE? “Item Not Found”
-”Well all we can say, there is no source, Homer never explicitly stated that Achilles and Patroclus were a couple or had a sexual relationship that we can find in the source material so... I am choosing to ignore all context and blatant evidence, as well have no heterosexual explanation for them either... you’re just reading into it too much”:
EVERYONE who has a brain and has read The Iliad:
As for myself having read the Iliad, studied this Art, History, and Culture, as well as having a BFA; when you know, YOU KNOW. Feel free to share, use this as inspiration to read “The Iliad” if you haven’t already, think critically, and study up on your own!
IN CONCLUSION = THEY GAY & THE OTP !!
(Highly Suggest “The Song of Achilles” as well)
#achilles#patroclus#achilles and patroclus#patrochilles#tsoa#the song of achilles#the iliad#iliad#history#history memes#gay#lqbt#lgbtqia#literature#books#greek mythology#historians#scholars#hollywood#erasure#trojan#trojan war#mythology#homosexual#pride#gay pride#gay rights#achilles x patroclus#patroclus x achilles
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Can you do one where Harry take his children and YN to one of his concert and their just dancing around singing along on stage with Harry.
i love this concept so much!! i kinda of wanna make it sad though soooo it’s gonna be harry’s final show :/ hope you enjoy;
oli - 29, felix - 27, belle - 24
The concert had been amazing, but unfortunately it was coming to its’ end now.
The final show.
That’s what Harry had decided to call it; a clever play on words with reference to his first ever solo single. The last 50 years had been a rollercoaster for Harry, from growing up just a kid in Cheshire, to going on the X Factor and winning the hearts of millions and from being in the most successful band of the decade to going solo and still being absolutely beloved. Times had changed, though. Harry had changed. He had a beautiful family of 3 now, excluding his wonderful wife. His children were his universe, no question about it, but they were getting older now - Harry was getting older. He was 50 this year and with that in mind he’d decided to retire. Retiring had involved a long conversation with you, along with a bottle of red wine, about whether it was the right decision or not. But it was - is.
You had suggested he put on one final, massive show, to celebrate his life and his achievements along with all that the fans have too. Tickets were open internationally and it was being streamed on various TV outlets for those who couldn’t attend. The tickets sold within 47 seconds. 47 seconds. It was being held in the Olympic Stadium in London, because it was Harry’s home and it held the most number of people he could genuinely allow.
The concert had started with ‘Fine Line’ songs, which merged into HS1 songs with a few One Direction songs as well. The entire set list had been composed by the fans with various polls on social media, with the concert supposedly lasting 2 hours (although with support artists and a few extra surprises it was more likely going to be 3!)
It had been beautiful so far. Magical. Unforgettable.
Every chance he got, without making it grossly obvious, he looked at you. He'd told you to stick your thumbs up at him every time he caught your eye, so he knew that you were okay - and every time, you did.
The concert was coming to an end now, which everyone was dreading. How could +30 years feel like it'd only been thirty minutes? You were devastated, so you could only imagine what his fans were thinking.
"Hey!"
The end Kiwi, for the second time, strummed throughout the arena and you knew it was time for the final song. His final song.
"Mum, is this the end?" Belle asked you, from where she was standing next to you. You had been dancing together all night and gotten progressively more tired. Your feet hurt. Your throats burned. Yet, as always, it was so worth it.
"Yes, Belles, it is." You tell her, and she pouted sadly. "Dad won't want to see you sad love, okay? He can still sing to you before bed?" You teased her, reminding her of a time when Harry would do such a thing, not wanting her to be all sad. It was supposed to be a celebration, but even you could admit that is was pretty hard-hitting.
"Really mum?" She asked.
You booped her nose annoyingly, before answering. "Every night if you want him to."
The lights changed from their green tone, thanks to Kiwi, back to a bright, white light. It beamed on Harry, making him look even more like the angel that he is. He dragged his microphone back to the centre stage and took a deep breath for beginning a speech he'd told you he'd prepared.
"So this is it, my friends." He laughed sadly into the microphone. He brushed his hair back and took out his in-ears to hear the audience. They were all awwing and crying, but what else did you expect? Their favourite artist was retiring - who wouldn't be crying a river?
"I, um. I'd like to take a bit of time to thank certain people." He coughed, something he always did after performing Kiwi due to his asthma. You thought it was lovely that he'd planned a speech to thank his management and crew. They did so much work backstage and you definitely didn't think they got enough credit for their hard work.
"Okay. I've made a little list..." Harry pulled out a tiny bit of crumpled paper from his pocket. "Just in case I forget anyone." He joked to himself, but made everyone laugh anyways. "So I guess first off, I should start with you lovely people." He pointed around the whole stadium, showing he was talking about the fans. "What you have done for me is indescribable. I think to myself, everyday, am I worthy of even being here—"
"Yes!" An army of agreement echoed around the arena, making Harry stop, blush and smile to himself.
"Well thank you! Um. You have been the best fans ever, and I know you will continue to be. I know you don't owe me anything, but all I ask you to keep loving yourselves and treating people with kindness, because I know I can count on you lot to do that, for me." He sniffled at the end, making you bite your lip to prevent the tears from falling for you. He looked so vulnerable right now, but you knew he'd be feeling on top of the world.
"Jheez." He sniffles again. "That's one thank you down and i'm already crying." He looked to his band to share the joke with.
“Dad’s such a wuss.” Oli laughed, holding his arm around Beas waist, making the people around you chuckle in agreement.
“Shut up you - Mr-tears-in-your-eyes!” You pointed out, laughing as he flipped you the bird - which then got him a hit off his grandma Anne.
All of Harrys family and friends were here, in a special cornered off section. It was such a thoughtful thing for Harry to do. All his family, and a fair few of yours, were sat down along with Harrys closest friends. Everyone was sharing laughs and drinks, whilst using every inch of space to dance along to your husbands boastful music.
"Secondly, my touring family. From Jeff and Ben, to Sarah's Kitchen, Adam, Mitch, Sarah, Charlotte and Nyoh, not forgetting everyone backstage and behind the lights, music and cameras. You've all been the greatest. Everything you do is second to none. You're all talented, warm-hearted, people whom I will carry in my heart forever. Thank you." You noticed members of the crew and band starting to tear up now.
"Moving on to my boys. We've been through it all, lads, and I couldn't have asked for four better brothers than you all. Louis. Liam. Niall. Zayn. Thank you." Everyone cheered ten times louder, maybe because this was as close to a One Direction reunion as the fans were ever going to get, but definitely because Harry had mentioned Zayn. You saw a girl faint at the mere mention of all the boys in the same sentence. The boys lifted up their beers to Harry, stood close by to where you were standing.
"I guess I should say thank you to the women who made all this possible. Mum. Gem. Thank you for signing me up all those years ago. Thank you for believing in me. You've made me the - crap, sorry! - the man I am now and I love you both." Harry prayed to them both, whilst bowing, and swiftly wiped away the tears afterwards. Anne and Gemma, on the other hand, were proudly crying.
"Ol, Fix and Belles. You rascals make me get out of bed every morning and give me more of a purpose in life. You four give me so much joy and happiness. I love you all, even if you do drive me up the wall on an early Saturday morning! Thank you, my loves." You stood close to all your children, giving them the support they needed in this moment. Belle was crying against your chest, the ever-so-emotional woman she was. Felix was stood up, with Heather, with his drink raised to his dad. Oli was to your side, trying to remain cool and stoic, but you still caught the tears that ran down his face.
"Now." The audience calmed down again after awing over your babies. Harry cleared his throat before beginning again. "This evening keeps on reminding me of a very special person in my life. Someone who is my everything and that's my beautiful wife, Y/N." His words make your breath hitch in your throat. You never expected him to say anything about you. I mean, what had you done?
"Mum." Belle called out to you, in affirmation that this was real.
"She's more than just a wife. She's a lover. She's my muse. She's my best-fucking-friend, apologises for swearing but sue me. I was hesitant to let go of all this, at first. What would I do with myself now? You know? People tell me i'm 'happiest on stage', and for a time that was true. Until I met Y/N. She's made me realise that family makes me the happiest. She makes me the happiest." He jumped down off stage, taking the microphone with him. He ran his hands along the fans in the front row, but had no intention of stopping until he met you.
You felt Belle leaving your side, but you were too captivated by Harry to fully understand what was happening.
"So what am I going to do now, you ask? Well..." Harry cheekily smiled at you. "I'm going to make her the happiest woman alive, just as she makes me the happiest man." You began to cry again and the chorus of thousands of fans clapping and screaming surrounds you, only to all stop when his lips meet yours. He tasted like a combination of salty sweat and mint, but he was home. After a minute of crying, kissing and 'i love yous' , Harry ran back to the stage before Jeff could shoot him.
"Thank you all. All my love." He said whilst adjusting his microphone. "Please sing along if you know the words." He asked, full well knowing every single person will be screaming out the lyrics to him.
"Just stop you're crying it's the sign of the times. Welcome to the final show. Hope you're wearing your best clothes."
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfic#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fanfiction#finelinevogue#finelinevogue harry styles#harry blurb#harry oneshot#harry styles concept#ask finelinevogue#ask harry styles#anon response#anon#harry styles sott#harry styles final show#harry styles sad#sign of the times#harry styles fluff#little moments masterlist#little moments finelinevogue#little moments
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Since we're on the topic of Ruby (when aren't we lol) have you ever noticed the startling contradiction between her speech to Raven V5C11 and her speech to Qrow V6C9 - which in canon takes place only a few weeks apart? Ruby is all "We only got this far because we didn't do it alone. We had people to teach us, people to help us!" to Raven and "lawl adults who needs them? They suck!" to Qrow. They don't jive together man.
We may be many things, but unpredictable isn't one of them lmfao.
But yeah. That's a really good point. Despite the extensive discussion surrounding Ruby's sudden swerve into a 'We don't need adults' perspective, I don't think I've seen anyone else outright compare the two speeches. To provide them in full:
V5C11: You're wrong. We've done things that most people would call impossible and I know the only reason we were able to do it is because we didn't do it alone! We had people to teach us, people to help us, we had each other. Work with us. At least I know we'll have a better chance if we try together. Please.
V6C9: Just because you don't have an idea, doesn't mean we're out of options! Oz hasn't been here to tell us what to do, but we still managed to get this far anyway. We've been in bad situations before and we didn't need an adult to come save us or tell us what to do. We just did it our way! And I say we do it our way. And if you think you can keep up with us kids... we'd be happy to have you.
The difference between these is staggering and that's not even taking into account, as you say, the relatively short time between them both in-world and the fact that the hopeful, compassionate speech is delivered to a lying, abandoning antagonist whereas the lying, dismissive speech is given to her beloved uncle currently buckling under alcoholism. "Work with us" has changed to a snarky "we'd be happy to have you" if you can keep up with us (AKA, stop questioning my leadership). "We didn't do it alone!" and "We had people to teach us" has changed to "we didn't need an adult to come save us or tell us what to do." "At least I know we'll have a better chance if we try together" has become "And I say we do it our way." Ruby's definition of "us" has shrunk drastically in a few weeks time. She went from verbally allying herself with her team, her friends, her instructors, other members of the community, and even the woman about to fight her to... the handful of people standing at the bottom of this staircase. Moments like this — severely compounded by later decisions like rejecting the peaceful option with Cordovin, lying to Ironwood, insisting on fighting the Ace Ops, etc. — are why fans argue that post-Volume 5 Ruby is not a unifying force anymore. She was, but now the idea that she's Salem's thematic opposite is questionable at best, laughable at worst, when she's personally doing some of the most work to sow division among the ranks.
It doesn't help that, as said, she's straight up lying here. Even putting aside the amount of help she's needed across the whole series — "we don't need an adult to come save us" is a particularly brutal lie when said to the man who was poisoned while saving her — Ruby still hasn't done anything alone since the immortality reveal. Maria was the one who put a stop to their fighting and insisted they get going. Maria is the one who guided Ruby through using her eyes when they were all about to die. Ozpin is the one who came up with the plan they're currently following. Jaune's sister and her wife are the ones whose house they're currently hiding in, with their food cooking in the oven for dinner, minutes before a flash-forward reveals that the group will rely on their knowledge/ability to distract to pull their theft plan off. That entire plan atm boils down to, "Get to Ironwood so he can take charge of this situation instead." What part of any of this is the group succeeding on their own, or even attempting to distance themselves to do things their own way? The show at this point has yet to prove that the group is superior to the previous generation, thereby justifying these claims... and frankly, we still haven't gotten that proof. What happens when Ruby has complete control over this war, no more adults to hold her back? Well, beyond losing the Relics and destroying an entire Kingdom, she died.
Mysterious islands aside, from a technical standpoint based on what we currently know, Ruby Rose is dead, as is the rest of her team. She lasted two days as the individual entity that she's talking up to Qrow. Before that, Ruby would have died if not for Maria. Before that, Ruby would have been kidnapped by Tyrian if not for Qrow. "We've been in bad situations before and we didn't need an adult to come save us or tell us what to do." Yes... yes you literally did. Several times over. And without those adults there you died. Everything outside of this scene — literally the entirety of RWBY — argues against Ruby's claims, making the fact that the show treats them as an intrinsic truth a bit of a problem.
RT wanted to write a moment where the young generation stands up and does better than those who came before them, but they forgot to write the adults failing and the group succeeding without them. It certainly doesn't help that this entire conflict begins with Qrow aligned with the group. He hates Ozpin just as much for the lie. He was arguably hurt the worst by that secret. He agrees with them... and yet simply by virtue of being outside of the core group, he's the one who gets weapons leveled against him for saying, "Hey." As others have argued in the past, RT very much wants to copy the big emotional beats that have succeeded in other stories without having any sense of why they worked in the first place — what was done before and after that moment to make it mean something. Ruby's speech to Raven means a great deal because we spent four Volumes establishing her as a kind, hopeful protagonist who is invested in bringing people together and tackling the impossible. Ruby's speech to Qrow means nothing because it's a bunch of nonsense that's nonsense because it arrives out of nowhere, with nothing to support it except Ruby's insistence that what she says is truth and the narrative choice to go along with that. Ruby is an unreliable perspective in a story that doesn't realize she's unreliable.
But can you imagine how much better it would have been if we got a speech like the one to Raven somewhere in Volume 6, in a context other than stealing the airship? "We've done things that most people would call impossible" in response to the pessimistic view that there's no way to stop Salem now that they've learned of her immortality? "I know the only reason we were able to do it is because we didn't do it alone!" and "At least I know we'll have a better chance if we try together" said to her teammates after they're inclined to just ignore Ozpin indefinitely, calling on them out on their cruelty and highlighting that working together is their greatest asset? That little "please" because Ruby used to be the embodiment of kindness, not this cocky fighter throwing out "That's before you trained us" and sarcastic "We'd be happy to have you"? I miss who Ruby used to be and that's not just a personal preference, it's disappointment that this new version of Ruby wasn't at least developed well. Like many fans having no problem with Ironwood becoming a villain, only with how badly it was executed, there's absolutely nothing wrong with giving us a confident version of Ruby who stands up to the inept adults around her... but you have to actually write a world where they're failing, she's succeeding, and that confidence is built on something other than lies, hypocrisy, and the story's tendency to let the protagonists cheat their way through difficult situations.
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