#|| out of counsel || { ooc }

[byanyan]

i'm picking my new laptop up tomorrow n i'm. vibrating. w excitement

[fr1day-incredible]

I have seen a lot of people say that in s3 Crowley will be sulking and depressed while Muriel, Nina and Maggie will try to help him. Like they will kinda have a found family thing going on. And while i see that happening.

I also want let Crowley be angry. I want to see him go batshit

I see it going like this:

The first days or weeks (or even months) after Aziraphale left Crowley does sulk and drink himself into oblivion. No body sees him for weeks. Until one evening when he is looking into the sky he decides fuck it. Because "Clearly that angel doesn't give a shit about me, so why should i give a shit about him"

And from there it goes downhill. Crowley now does all the shit hell wants him to do and more. Drugs, drinking, smoking, tempting, bribery, getting into bar fights, tormenting, hooking up with every third person he sees, becoming an genuine asshole and every other shity thing a demon can do. Basically leading the most self destructive lifestyle that would have had a human dead within a month. But lucky him since human mortality doesn't apply to him.

He will let that hot anger consume him and motivate him to do more and more shity things. His goal will be to become unrecognisable from the Crowley he was.

Perhaps he will also get a new hairstyle (one he haven't had before) and then change the Bentley into a modern hot red sport car and change his whole closet.

Perhaps after a while one night he will pull up to the bookshop (he haven't seen it in months) and Nina (she stayed late at work) won't even recognize him at first, but when she does she is relieved to finally see him! But that's until he pulls out a fuel can and walks inside the bookshop.

Muriel would of course would be there, but a quick miracle would probably knock them out. Then he is spilling the fuel everywhere and with a snap of his fingers everything is burning. I totally see him smirking while saying:

"You where right angel, nothing lasts for ever"

Aziraphale at some point finds out about this and goes down to earth first time in months, and he is mad.

When they meet Crowley blames Aziraphale for the bookshop burning down and every other bad thing Crowley had done so far, "because if you hadn't left i wouldn't have done it". That makes Aziraphale go from mad to pissed. Everything escalates from there and now things between them are even worse. They are both very angry and blame the other for everything.

Perhaps, perhaps not things get violent or/and other people get involved

[calmlythrilling]

while i'm here on pv's account i want to briefly mention that in a blue exorcist au, ideally i would want pv as a teacher(probably on demon biology or medicine) to play into that college-professor-at-night part of him.

however that's just my ideal thought. i prefer sticking to canon as close as possible. so what likely happens in a blue excorist au like that, was that laserblast(a human dragoon exorcist) compared himself to people like father fujimoto or mephisto, and constantly put himself down for being so weak and powerless compared to those people, to the point that he started messing around with demons' bodies/spirits trying to figure something out that wasn't straight up demon eating. until something like, say, the blue night(or some other major event) happened, and laserblast supposedly dies, except he isn't dead he just gave up and decided demon eating was the way to go and he changed his entire identity, goes by venomous now, and has cut all ties with those people and even holds a grudge even if it's an irrational one. ...the whole identity fighting with shadowy would probably get switched around to fighting against this demon instead of himself though.

[stalwartprotector]

Spoilers for Act II below the cut, but I am Ranting.

So I fell in love with Asharak's character, despite how few lines he had. Him working with the kids. Thanking you for making them smile because that's what he prefers—to see them smiling. Just. He was such a sweet character with so much potential.

And then we enter Act II and we find him and others brutally murdered.

And I don't appreciate it, Larian. I don't appreciate the lazy shock and horror to "create a mood", and especially when it's something we had no choice in deciding. No way for us to even decide to accompany the Tieflings on their journey. There were plenty of ways to establish the mood shift and the high stakes without that, which made me feel physically ill. [ Not me spending the rest of that session just ferrying the bodies out of the Shadow Curse to set them in the little makeshift cemetery behind the inn. 🔥🙃🔥 ]

We could have walked in on the ambush—just like we walked into the Harpers ambush—or even as they had the Tieflings rounded up and we could have had at least a possibility of saving them. Hell, you could even have given us the option of saving them or to not, the option of using a spell slot to heal one who was grievously injured or to not. Some could even still have been abducted and us have a very clear understanding that they must be saved and the stakes of failing without all of that.

I get that not everyone can live—just like Mayrina's brothers—but that was damn lazy and completely unnecessary.

And I have said all that to also say that, for anyone else who liked him or was horrified at the damn slaughter, Asharak can be found ALIVE on my multi sideblog for BG3, @onlyfaerietales , as I will officially add him shortly, as well as a few others like Guex, Danis, and Bex.

[archivedcoach]

thought again about how much beard distracted henry during the whole separation….picking him up from school, taking him to a baseball game whenever his parents had counseling, more sleepovers….more uncle moments!

[powersofhell]

What would you do if someone were to come up to you and ask you to end their own life because they feel like life isn't worth living anymore?

"And deal them a blessing that would put them out of their misery? Certainly not! Perhaps, for their impertinence, I might grant a curse of immortality to prolong their suffering. If they believe their life to be painful now, I would happily show them they know nothing of the world's cruelty."

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

lips of an angel

pairing: married! leon x marriage counselor! reader

cw: infidelity, p in v, oral, over-usage of 'good girl', regret, leon is an asshole (like, he's really a dick), reader is also not a good person (so, hopefully it's ooc for u lol), not proofread enough

summary: leon is married to ashley (she deserves better) and he cheats on her with reader who is the marriage counselor

a/n: based on a reddit post lol. also, it's time for us to admit that lips of an angel is such a fucking good song and leon would listen to it. (imagining this is id! leon and that song came out around that time so actually it's perfect. anyway, bye)

wc: 2.7k

[edit] taglist

@rigorwhoring

@dilfprayers

@porcelainseashore

@dollita-fawn

@xoxoloveless

@admirxation

@pawrincss

@onlyasimp4-2dbitches

@pr3ttyd0llie

It starts like many horror stories do: with a knock at the door. He's tall, dark, and handsome, standing in the doorframe. Except not that dark, not very tall at all, but incredibly handsome and you've come to find over the sessions you've spent together that his looks are your weakness. His weakness is you. And many other women. Including his wife, who usually attends these sessions, but tonight, he comes alone. Maybe it's the rain that's beating down on the windows - thought it should sound like a warning - that makes you feel sympathetic enough to let him in when you know you shouldn't.

You let him sit on your couch, but make him hang up his leather jacket on the coat rack so he doesn't ruin the furniture. So you can see his biceps better. And his forearms when he rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt. The first two buttons are already undone, but that's how he always dresses. You know this because you spend too much time looking at him. What does his wife wear? Skirts? Dresses? Pantsuits? She could wear a goddamn clown costume to every session and you'd be none the wiser because you're staring at her husband like he's a piece of meat.

"Not that I'm unhappy to see you, but why are you here?" you ask him. "Your appointment isn't until Wednesday."

"I'm having marriage troubles. I thought you might be able to help."

It's in the job title: marriage counselor.

"Where's Ashley?" It's a loaded question, and the gun is pointed at your entire fucking career.

"She couldn't come. Plus, I don't think she'd like to know about these problems I'm having."

You take a deep breath, contemplating absolutely nothing because you've already made your choice. You made your choice months ago when you had your first appointment with the Kennedys.

“Remember when I said I had a history of cheating?”

“I do. Has this become a problem again?”

“Not exactly,” he says with a slight chuckle that you later find is ironic in nature. “But I’ve been having thoughts…”

“Are these thoughts sexual?”

“Very.”

“Have you tried taking care of it yourself?” You make a hand gesture to signal ‘if you know what I mean’ and pray he knows what you mean so you don’t have to say the words ‘jerk off’ explicitly.

“Yes, but it hasn’t worked.” He looks directly into your eyes when he says it.

"Are these thoughts about a specific person?"

"Yes." 

His answers, which are limited to only a few words at a time, make you feel like you're shaking up a magic 8 ball, and the blue goop reveals a die that has little to say beyond 'It is certain', 'My sources say no', and 'Try again later'. 

“Is there a way you could distance yourself from this person so you don’t have any potential ‘slip ups’?” you ask.

“Sure, but I’d have to stop counseling if I did.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Kennedy-”

“Leon.”

“Right. Leon, I’m not trying to be presumptuous, but are you insinuating that these thoughts are about me?”

“That they are.” His smile gives you a golden star-shaped sticker for guessing correctly.

You give him a scowl. "I'll set you up with a new therapist, then."

“Let me ask you something,” he says, leaning forward, staring right into your soul. “Are you attracted to me too?”

“I’m not comfortable answering-”

“That’s not a ‘no’. Is it?”

You try to wipe the look of shock arousal off your face.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to admit it. I remember you asking a lot of questions about my sex life, especially the parts that don’t involve my wife, and getting visibly flustered when I answered them.”

“Of course I asked questions like that. I’m a therapist. It’s what I do. I’m sorry if you-” 

You should ask him to leave, separate yourself before you explode in frustration. Getting defensive is not a healthy way to argue. You know this. You've told him this.

“If I remember correctly you asked me about how I touch myself, when I do it, if I watch anything.” He doesn't wait for a response from you, but it wouldn't have come anyway. “And, the whole time you were sitting there chewing on your pen, pretending not to imagine it. And then writing it down in a hurry, making sure you got down every little detail.” He taps on your pad of paper.

“Can I see this for a moment?” He snags it from the table beside you and flips through the pages. Without thinking, you leap forward and try to snatch it from him, falling into his lap.

The embarrassing part is when he lifts you off of him. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“It’s highly confidential!”

“Mr and Mrs. Kennedy,” he begins to read imitating your voice.

“Enough.” You use your sternest voice with him - which is far from stern.

“It says right here that Mr. Kennedy is 'a total dick’ but ‘totally fuckable’.”

“It does not!”

“You’re right. It doesn’t. But you were thinking it. Weren’t you?” He looks up with a smile on his face that’s both charming and cruel.

"I'm not playing whatever game you're trying to play with me right now, Leon."

It's the devil's edition of 20 questions, it seems.

He flips the pad closed, and says, “I’ll leave right now if you answer one question truthfully.”

“Fine," you huff, snatching the pad of paper and stashing it out of his reach.

“Did you go home and touch yourself while thinking about me?”

You shake your head vehemently. "No. Absolutely not."

“You couldn’t even make it home, huh? You did it right here, didn’t you?”

You don't have to answer - the look on your face gives it away.

“Was it on the couch? Right where I was sitting? Where I'm sitting right now."

“Fine. You win, you got it right. Are you happy now?” You concede because you want to end this conversation as quickly as possible, so you can go hide your face and die. 

You want him to fuck you within an inch of your life and then you'll die happily. La petite mort? That's what they call it, right? You want that.

Leon just hums in response, giving you no insight into his thoughts. Though it doesn't take a therapist to guess that he's mentally fucking you. To your surprise, he slaps his hands on his thighs and stands up.

When he gets to the door, you say, “Wait-”

“What?” He asks, nonchalant to such a degree that one might believe the events of the previous few minutes never transpired at all.

“What are you doing?”

“Leaving. Like I said I would.”

“You’re just gonna leave? Do you get off on embarrassing people? Is that it?”

“No. I get off to you, and you know that." He's oddly defensive despite having the upper hand. "I also know that a large part of you despises me, but it’s because there’s a part of you that wants to fuck me.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He shrugs. “You’re the therapist, not me.”

“I’m telling your wife.”

“You’re going to tattle on me?" He laughs. “That wouldn’t be very HIPAA-compliant of you, would it?”

“Why are you doing this?" It feels like a nightmare that you can't escape where a terrifying shadowy figure is chasing you while you're screaming out for help and no one's listening. Except, this is more horrific due to the fact that you like it. Your thoughts about the man in front of you are downright depraved. You are both the monster, mirrors of each other. 

"I thought you wanted to fix your marriage," you say.

“My wife wants to fix our marriage. You and I both know it’s doomed. But you’re not allowed to say that, are you?”

You shouldn't be saying half the things you are right now, but it's too late to turn back now. You are the sunk cost. And the ship that was the concept of 'fixing Leon's marriage' has already sailed.

“You want the truth? I’ve known since the moment you opened your mouth that your marriage was done.”

“Then why did you keep having sessions? Was it for the money?” He pauses. “I doubt it. You’re a good therapist. You could get other clients. There was another reason. And, we both know what that reason is, but I won’t make you say it. I’m not that mean.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“And that’s what you like most about me.”

“It is not.”

“Then what is it?”

“Fuck you!”

“Do you want to? I wouldn’t be opposed.”

“Convince me.”

“Haven’t I already?”

“No.”

“Then why are you asking me to convince you instead of telling me to fuck off? You just want me to come up with a reason that doesn’t make you feel bad about doing it.”

“And there isn’t one.”

“No, there isn’t," he says with a bit of pity, knowing he's dragging you down into the second circle of Hell with him.

“You have to swear to tell your wife.”

“Is that a yes?”

He did not swear to tell his wife, but Leon is a cheater and a liar already. If he swore to tell his wife, you'd only be an idiot to believe him. 

“Lock the door.”

He turns around and flicks the lock. “Done.”

You stand up and his mouth is on yours. He’s the best kisser. Silver-tongued, you should've known it. You can fucking taste it too. Metallic. No, that's blood. You bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.

You’re the one who starts undressing him first but he doesn’t make fun of you. He helps you out of your top instead.

“Goddamn you have perfect tits. It’s a shame you always keep ‘em hidden.”

“It’s a professional environment.”

“Yeah, it’s so professional that you fuck your clients in it.”

“I’ve never done this before.”

"Don't worry. You’re not the first therapist I’ve fucked. I’ll lead.” Leon lays you down on the couch  - roughly, but cradling your head so you don’t knock it on anything. 

You gasp. "Leon, the couch is damp from your wet clothes," you whine.

"I promise it'll be soaked by the time I leave."

Before you can open your mouth, he’s kissing down your chest, making his way to your panties. His tongue is good at more than just talking. He has you unraveling within minutes, moaning obscenely.

“As much as love your pretty moans, baby, we’ve gotta be quiet. Don’t want you to get fired.”

“I deserve it.”

“No, you don’t. You’re a good therapist, and a good girl.”

“You think I’m a good girl?”

“So good. And you taste amazing.” He places a kiss on your clit and you nearly cry, having forgotten the feeling of his tongue in the mere seconds you spent without it. “I want you to come in my mouth.” He sucks on your clit until you do.

Leon's lips are dark and puffy when they meet yours - the ones on your face. He asks, “How did you imagine us doing it?”.

“Mostly me on top of you.”

“It’s a good idea, isn’t it?” he says, placing featherlight kisses from your jaw down your neck.

You shake your head. “None of this is.”

“I know. You've got morals. You’re a good girl.” He pauses before whispering into the shell of your ear, “That’s why you deserve to have me however you want me.”

His right hand is busy holding you steady so he fingers you with his left. You watch as his wedding band slips in and out of your pussy along with his middle finger, giving a double fuck you to his wife with each movement.

He seems fascinated by the squelching sounds, no longer focused on getting his dick inside you. The heavy rain outside covers up some of the noise but not enough to save you the embarrassment.

"Jesus. Just fuck me already." You try desperately to avoid sounding desperate, praying he takes your irritation at face value.

But you're too obvious, you wear your sick, sick heart on your sleeve. 

"You want my dick that bad and you haven't even seen it yet."

"I hope it's as big as your ego."

"No you don't. That'd be painful, medically concerning probably."

You want to laugh because he manages to be funny and charming as hell despite being an absolute dick, but that fact makes you hate him more. And the blood that courses through you has nowhere to go but south.

All the while, his fingers refuse to leave your aching center. "Leon," you whine, pushing his hand away, "you're gonna make me cum again."

"I know," he purrs. "I wanna make up for all the months you've spent here by yourself, with your fingers inside you instead of mine."

"I was pretending they were yours." There's no point in saving the confession anymore.

"I'm sure you were, but I've got somethin' better for you, baby."

And, abruptly, he removes his fingers. You watch him unbuckle his belt, and despite this being your fantasy, you look at him like he's betrayed you.

"What?" he says, coyly, "I thought you wanted this."

"I do, but I was about to cum, and you just took your fingers away. You're such an asshole!" You pout like a bratty child.

"Yeah, I know I am," he says - his words are muffled by the square packet he tears with his teeth. He slides on the rubber barrier before he picks you up and sits you down on his cock, disregarding the obscene noises you make as he shoves himself inside you all at once.

You're wet but there's a stretch. His dick is big, maybe not as big as his ego, but bigger than any you've taken before. This is how he gets away with it, you think.

"Fuck, you're tight," he groans. His hands have an iron grip on your hips. "You've gotta learn to loosen up and relax. You're too high strung. This is probably good for you."

It's not, you'll find when the orgasm wears off, but right now it feels really fucking good.

His thumb circles your clit while you bounce up and down, working well in tandem. Ironic, as you've made so little progress in your weekly sessions. As expected, the dual stimulation makes you slick with arousal, opening you up for him.

His voice sounds distant, droned out by your own moans which get even louder as his words get filthier. "Bet all your advice didn't work 'cause your brain was all fuzzy thinking about what my cock would feel like inside you. Or maybe you did it on purpose 'cause you wanted me all to yourself."

"No… n-no-" you say, voice trembling just as your thighs do.

"S'okay, baby. Girls with messy pussies like you can't help it. Just need to get some dick in you and then you can go back to being a good girl."

Can you? Maybe you can a 'good girl' in the bedroom, but a morally-upstanding woman? Even in your own eyes, he's corrupted you.

Still, you call out for him, "Leon," you cry, the singular syllable drawn out. You are lucky that the thunder from the storm is louder than your voice could ever be.

"I know," he says, "I'm close too."

The way your walls squeeze him when you cum drags his own orgasm from him. 

You are oddly dissatisfied at the fact that he spills into the condom, not into you. It feels so impersonal. Because it is. It doesn't escape you that he didn't say your name - not even a pet name - just a simple 'fuck' when he came.

You point him in the direction of the trashcan where he can throw away the physical evidence of the mess you've made.

His pants are back on in a second while you remain naked on the couch.

"Where are you going?"

"Home," he says. "Ashley's making dinner. Don't wanna keep her waiting."

"You're gonna go home to her?" you say, more disappointed than surprised.

"Yeah. What did you think I was going to do?"

Truly, you weren't thinking. If you were, you would not have had sex with Leon. 

"I'm surprised you're not happy. I'm gonna go spend some quality time with my wife. That was your advice - wasn't it?"

"Yeah, but-"

"But what? You're our marriage counselor. I'm just trying to fix my marriage."

"You're doing an awful job."

"I know," he says, with his hand on the doorknob. "See you on Wednesday."

[akutasoda]

amongst the star anise

synopsis - a conflicted topic arises again and he can't figure out a proper remedy

includes - jiaoqiu

warnings - gn!reader, angst, slight fluff, confessions?, maybe ooc, wc - 1.2k

a/n: kinda all over the place but whatever, he lives rent free in my head

jiaoqiu was always dedicated to practicing medicine and by extent and association, cooking - it was more of a passion of his per say. although some might consider it a bit forced or dictated seeing as he did come from a prestigious alchemy commission family.

however, the foxian hadn't always been so lucky in terms of maintaining his dedication to his practice. as rumour has it, jiaoqiu once withdrew from practicing medicine due to a broken heart - it was only a rumour spread around the xianzhou yaoqing because nobody knew the truth, the only thing that was true was that jiaoqiu would make sure it remained as a rumour.

however he would admit in secret, if it hadn't been for general feixiao, he doubted he would've bounced back as quickly as he did - he only returned to the field because he was needed, not because he wanted to. nowadays he probably would call his old self weak and over reactive but in everyday life it was obvious to himself that he clearly still saw himself that way deep down.

it was especially obvious when he started avoiding you, by no fault on your end but it certainly felt that way. it became quite obvious that the pink foxian was trying to avoid you at all costs - you'd see him across a crowd but by the time you got there, he would've disappeared or if you managed to catch him when he's talking with someone, he'd finish his conversation and pretend like you didn't exist.

but what confused you most was the fact that he would randomly change and act like normal. you understood the fact that he could be quite frustrating at times but this seemed a tad extreme. one week he'd act like you two friends, which you were, and the next he'd avoid you like you were mara-struck. all without a single explanation or even acknowledgment at any time, and understandably it started annoying you.

all you wanted was an explanation for why he recently started acting like that sonetimes but it seemed impossible as anytime you brought it up when he was back to 'normal', he'd brush you off and smack the top of your head with his fan before walking away. eventually, you started ignoring him aswell. it wasn't really your fault because jiaoqiu had really worn down your tolerance for his behaviour, some were baffled you put up with his antics for as long as you did.

unfortunately, it only really gave him a reason to annoy you further - he could surprisingly brcome more cunning when he realised you were ignoring him. however jiaoqiu wasn't stupid, he knew why you began ignoring him in the first place. in truth, jiaoqiu was scared, over reactive and weak even. he returned to practice medicine because he had to and so he never exactly had gotten over his reason to withdraw in the first place.

a small while after he returned, he met you and it was like he was falling head over heels all over again. except this time he kept his cunning and mischievous facade up and refused to let himself get hurt again. except he greatly overestimated just how much his heart longed for you and your presence. throughout all his years of counselling and practicing medicine, the only solution he could think of was pushing you away. although this solution only seemed to worsen the problem.

everytime he pushed you away and tried to force you out of his life, he'd make a promise to himself that he needed to do so and that it was for the best. but every single time, there would come a time where he needed you or wanted to see you and then he'd go back to normal and refuse to acknowledge his change in behaviour. he knew how it affected you, it was cruel for the both of you - it must be, even if you didn't know why - but he just couldn't get along without you not could he bare to put his heart on the line again.

now more than ever, jiaoqiu realised that his solution perhaps wasn't the best remedy. he'd pushed you away and now you were reciprocating that action, he needed to figure out another solution.

you had come to find a note addressed to you not too long after you started ignoring jiaoqiu, it wasn't signed but you knew very well who it was from. you'd overheard a couple of people complaining avout the increasing spiciness of jiaoqiu's dishes, to the point where the spiciness wasn't even flavourful. you'd also had people comment on the fact that he trailed after you when you ignored him, constantly vying for your attention by trying his best to garner your attention.

so admittedly you were curious as to what he wanted to tell you, and so you found yourself heading to the location detailed in his note. you found it rather comical to see the usually extremely composed jiaoqiu pacing back and forth. as you got closer you noticed how he stopped and waited, although you could still tell he was somewhat anxious about something because his tail was swishing back and forth.

jiaoqiu looked like he had something to say, but it appeared that whatever it was, was something that proved to be difficult for him to say. he kept going to say something but stopping and he hid rhe lower half of his face with his fan, presumably to hide his embarrassment - you'd never seen jiaoqiu so out of character before. he was practically infatuated with you but he didn't like it, not because if you but because he didn't want to risk another broken heart.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

[rainybubbles]

How COD men say the first "I love you"

Price, Gaz, Soap, Ghost, Rudy, Keegan

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC.)

-

for more context (you don't need it to read) : here how you met them

P R I C E

-He confessed with Gaz covered by whipped cream.

-Let me explain.

-After your first meeting based on a pregnant Shrek cake to his base and a misunderstanding, John became a regular of your bakery.

-So obviously for confessing his love, he thought of baking a cake.

-During the afternoon on the base, he tried to bake.

-Yes, he could have bought a cake with "I love you” on it. But John liked doing this on his own when it came to gifts.

-He liked the old-fashioned way of doing gifts himself.

-However, as the dough turned an unexpected purple hue, he wisely sought the expertise of Soap, a proficient pastry enthusiast.

-"Cap...your dough is..." Soap hesitated, unsure of how honest he could be.

-"Horrible, you can say it, son," John acknowledged.

-"I just wonder how you managed to make it turn purple?"

-"I used beetroot."

-"For a cake?"

-"Sugar is derived from beetroot."

-"Yeah, but in a Paris-Brest, you don't have beetroot."

-"...how can I fix this?"

-"Well, call Gaz. By three, we could finish the pastry in time," Soap suggested with a knowing smile.

-The collaborative baking commenced, yet Soap overlooked a crucial detail—Gaz sucked as much as Price when it came to bake.

- Entrusted with the delicate task of preparing the crème au beurre, Gaz inadvertently neglected to secure the mixer's lid.

-Chaos ensued as the cream erupted, spilling on the surroundings.

-Soap tried to stop it, but he slipped on the floor.

-Gaz couldn't see because of the cream, and John was looking at them reconsidering his life's chouce.

-Obviously, you decided to come back home at this moment.

-Yo were greeted by the sight of Gaz adorned in whipped cream, Johnny sprawled on the flour-strewn floor, and John enveloped in a cloud of flour.

-"I...is this a kinky food party, or did I miss something? Because usually, people are naked when they use whipped cream," you quipped.

-"I can explain, love," John offered.

-"Okay, what happened?"

-"I wanted to bake for you."

-"You know I don't need cakes or pastries; that's my job. If I crave a sweet tooth, I have plenty of cakes, honey."

-"I know, but this one was special. It was supposed to be a heart-shaped Paris-Brest."

-"Paris-Brest aren't heart-shaped."

-"Not when they're not employed for confessions."

-A moment of realization dawned upon you.

-"Fuck, you...you wanted to say 'I love you.'"

-"Yeah, but it's clear I messed up."

-"No, no. I mean, sure, Gaz covered in whipped cream, Johnny on the flour, and walls adorned with flour was not what I pictured, but it's perfect."

-"Good because I don't plan to cover Garrick in whipped cream every time I want to say it."

-A shared chuckle ensued as you joined Gaz and Soap in the aftermath, each contributing to the cleanup while John beamed with contentment.

G A Z :

-He confessed with a vocal.

-After your meeting and your teasing when you found out Gaz listened to your spicy ASMR as a streamer, you noticed him.

-He was a regular, one of the fans who always leave a comment under each post.

-He became more than just a familiar username.

-Your bond deepened as you sought his counsel on scenarios for your streams and videos, a virtual confidant in the ever-expanding realm of online content creation.

-As time unfolded, your relationship transcended the digital realm.

-The spark between you two ignited, an intangible force that fueled your creative musings.

-Swiftly, meetings materialized whenever Gaz found a fleeting moment of respite from his duties.

-When he was on long deployments, you sent him exclusivity audios so he could be distracted from the horror he did or saw, offering a temporary escape from the grim realities he faced.

-Your voice became a comforting melody, a beacon in the darkness, ensuring that Gaz could find solace even amid the harrowing experiences he encountered. 

- In fact you could record yourself spelling a list of grocery and he would find it awesome

-Yet, despite the kisses shared and the intimate moments experienced, Gaz had yet to formally ask you out or declare those three potent words: "I love you."

-One night, as a gentle breeze whispered through the window, he turned to his friend Soap for advice, a hint of embarrassment lingering in his tone.

-"Hey, mate, can I ask for advice?" he queried, his eyes seeking guidance from Soap.

-"Sure," Soap responded, welcoming the opportunity to lend an ear.

-"How... would you confess to someone you've been flirting with for months?" Gaz inquired, his apprehension palpable.

-"Tell them," Soap replied matter-of-factly.

-"No shit, I wanted something special. They're... they're awesome, and I really want to make the thing memorable, you know?"

-Soap smirked, teasing Gaz.

-A playful shoulder bump ensued as Gaz protested, "Shut up, mate. I just... I feel like they're the right person, you know? I mean, they saw me during my lowest moments, and for people like us, it's hard sometimes to find those who can handle a lover with PTSD."

-"Yeah, I feel that," Soap acknowledged. "Well, maybe use your first meeting or something they love. If they're into soccer, bring them to a big match and confess during it."

-"But, you know, during a match, everyone screams? It's kinda dumb."

-Soap paused.

-Gaz looked at him.

-"Well, it sounded like a good idea at that time."

-Gaz's eyes widened. "Wait, you did that?"

-"Listen, it seemed like a good idea."

-"Oh my gosh, what happened?"

-"She didn't understand what I said and answered, 'You're such a good friend.'"

-"Damn."

-"But it doesn't mean it'll be the same for you."

-"I know. I just think about things they love. I... can't confess by ASMR, honestly. It'll be cringe."

-"Maybe send an audio? No need for ASMR," Soap suggested.

-"Yeah," Gaz agreed.

-As Gaz found himself in his room, armed with his phone and ready to send a heartfelt audio message, he hesitated.

-The recorded voice sounded foreign and awkward to him, far from the eloquence he envisioned.

-Discouraged, he abandoned the attempt.

- Upon his return from deployment, sensing your unusual behavior, he confronted you about it.

-"You... sent me a vocal, but it only said 'Fuck you,' so I didn't know if I did something or not," you confessed, puzzled by the unexpected message.

-Gaz paused, the realization dawning upon him. He had forgotten to delete a frustrated attempt at confessing that slipped through the cracks.

-"No, it was not against you. I... I tried to do something, but I messed up. So I was mad at myself, and at the same time, I was recording a vocal for you," he admitted, vulnerability coloring his words.

-"Can I ask what was this thing?" you inquired, curiosity dancing in your eyes.

-"I... gear. I couldn't take off my gear," he lied, attempting to divert the conversation.

-"You're a bad liar," you chuckled.

-"Okay, I wanted to confess to you. And I tried to record something like you do, but it sounded horrible."

-"You know you could have texted?" you suggested with a playful smile.

-"Yes, I... I didn't think about it. I was so focused on voices and the perfect confession."

-"I reciprocate, if you ever wonder," you reassured him.

-A smile broke across Gaz's face as he squeezed your hands, grateful for the understanding that transcended words.

S O A P :

-He confessed by drawings.

-After drawing you like Gollum because you flustered him, Soap, determined to prove his artistic prowess, pursued every opportunity to capture your essence on paper.

- Despite attending each modeling session and receiving your compliments, he couldn't quite capture the nuances—those wrinkles when you smiled, the sparkle when you ate, the delicate mole that graced your visage.

-Unyielding, he embarked on a mission of his own, drawing you ceaselessly between military duties, on the pages of his diary, and during leaves.

-Training, a familiar concept to a soldier, became his artistic discipline.

-You willingly played muse.

-The drawing sessions evolving into intimate conversations, forging a connection that extended beyond artistry.

-As your bond deepened, so did Soap's frustration.

- The elusive perfection he sought in his drawings continued to elude him, and he longed to express his feelings through his sketches.

- One day, returning to your darkened apartment, you discovered a trail of candles illuminating your path.

- Recognizing Soap's expertise with fire and explosives, you followed the flickering lights until the room burst into brightness.

-There, on the wall, an intricately arranged collection of sketches painted a portrait of your shared moments—coffee spills, date nights, and more.

-Overwhelmed by the domestic warmth of the scene, you couldn't help but murmur, "Shit, it's so cute."

-"I hope so, because I love you, baby. I want these sketches to continue, to wake up to you every morning, to draw you, to see you, to kiss you," Johnny confessed, closing the distance between you.

-A tender embrace and a heartfelt kiss followed. "I love you too."

-"Good, because it would have been hard if you said you hate me after I spent five hours gluing these sketches," Soap admitted, a playful smile gracing his face.

-Laughter filled the room, echoing the joy of two hearts entwined in love.

G H O S T :

-He confessed with a monkey wrench.

-You were tired.

-The life of a mechanic on the base demanded a toll, and today, that toll felt almost unbearable.

- Fatigue etched lines on your face as you toiled among the clattering tools, your hands weaving intricate dances of repair.

- The camaraderie with your coworkers, usually a source of solace, had soured into an unbearable weight on your shoulders.

-Amidst the clinks and clanks, a sudden snap echoed through the air, drawing attention like an unwelcome spotlight.

-Your favorite monkey wrench, a faithful companion in countless repairs, lay shattered in your hands.

-A surge of frustration coursed through you, and against all reason, tears welled in your eyes.

- It was an odd vulnerability, shedding tears over a broken tool, but the accumulation of stress had reached a breaking point.

-Then, there he was—Simon, the enigmatic connection born from his bad driving skills and your repairing of his vehicles.

- Your eyes met, and the vulnerability you felt intensified.

-"Don't pity me, please," you whispered, a plea tinged with embarrassment.

-"I don't pity you, love," Simon responded, his voice a balm to your wounded spirit.

- He knelt beside you, his presence a comforting anchor in the chaos of the workshop.

-"I... I must look ridiculous?" you stammered, seeking reassurance.

-"No, you look quite stunning crying on the dirty floor with a broken monkey wrench," he teased, a glimmer of humor in his eyes.

- Your tears mingled with laughter, a cathartic release in the midst of chaos.

-"Yeah?" you asked, a hint of uncertainty lingering.

-"Yeah," he affirmed, his gaze sincere.

 -"Then Soap is the most stunning with his mohawk full of mud."

-"Hm, he can't beat you with your grease on the cheek," Simon remarked, using his gloved hand to wipe away a smudge.

-A quiet settled between you, broken only by the sound of tools and distant chatter.

-Simon extended his hands, a silent offer of support, and you accepted, rising from the dirt-strewn floor.

-"Thanks for... being here," you said, gratitude coloring your words.

-"I'm not always here, love," Simon admitted, a touch of vulnerability in his gaze.

-"But you're here when it counts, Simon. That's all that matters to me," you confessed, and with those words, you retreated to the solitude of your barracks.

-As you left, Simon watched you, and in that moment, an unfamiliar warmth enveloped him.

- It was the realization that he was enough—enough to be there for you, enough to be loved.

-The following day, a surprise awaited you in the form of a brand-new monkey wrench.

-A note accompanied it, bearing Simon's distinctive scrawl: "I hope to buy you more in the future."

- A subtle promise, a declaration beyond words.

- You smiled, for you understood—it was more than a tool.

-It was the promise of a connection that transcended the clangor of the workshop, a sentiment that spoke of a desire for something deeper. And for you, that was more than enough.

K E E G A N :

-He confessed with Happy Meals.

-After all, it was how you met. Keegan ordered 20 happy meals, and you were a worker for McDonalds.

-( Even though you began to write an essay about how happy meals and military men seem to be an issue)

- Keegan and you became close.

-Since you saw him each night during his leave after your shift.

-At first, it was because some teenagers were here, threatening the employees after their shift, so Keegan proposed his help.

-And after that, driving you back home became a routine when he was on leave.

-And when one night you decided to ask him to drop you somewhere else, and it ended up being a restaurant, he realized you were asking a date subtly.

-Slowly, it became flirtatious.

-Even though you still didn't know how he could flirt when you were covered in grease-smelling potatoes.

-But Keegan had rizz even at 1 AM.

-He could say the more cheesy lines while you're covered in cheddar and coke.

-That's why he wanted to confess in a cool way, the same way, his flirt could make you smile through the worst shift.

-At first, he thought of a Happy meal where the toy could be a letter saying "I love you" with a selfie of you two.

-But he wanted something fun, as fun as when Ghost ordered 40 Happy Meals just to have all the skeleton toys.

-So during one of his missions, he used his phone and ordered food for your flat.

-Surprised, you opened the door to the delivery guy, saying you hadn't ordered anything. But you noticed it had your name on it.

-You sighed and took the bags.

-The 4 bags.

-Which surprised you because, hell, you won't eat all of that.

-And then you opened the bag to see happy meals.

-20 happy meals. Like Keegan used to order.

-You chuckled.

-It was a good prank.

-You sent him a text.

-"Okay, good one, I'll take revenge, I swear"

-But then you notice the Happy Meal is empty.

-Except for one who had a little toy.

-A heart toy.

-You squeezed it like it said on it

-And the little toy spoke with a horrible voice. "I love you".

-The cheesy smile you had when you realized it.

-"fuck, you got rizz even miles away, uh ?"you texted.

- "of course" he answered.

-"well, Mr Rizz, I can't send you Happy Meals, but I love you too."

-"thanks, love"

R U D Y :

-He confessed with books. 

-After meeting Rudy in the library and realizing he was one of the few readers following your books. You ended up meeting with him when he was on leave so he could be your beta reader.

-He was a good help, he was not always saying "good", he had good remarks and ideas.

-He was the one bringing coffee during your late writing sessions.

-Even when duty called him away on missions, he sent texts 

-Texts traversed the ether, connecting your worlds despite the miles that separated you.

-In response, handwritten letters, carefully penned with the knowledge of his penchant for tangible memories, sailed back to him, becoming anchors of shared moments in his turbulent sea of duty.

-Thanks to his comments and ratings on sites, you slowly became more famous as an author, and you now live by it.

-Yet one day when you were writing, you were searching for one of the books you wanted to inspire your fight scene for, but...

-"I didn't order my library like that," you whispered.

-Your books, usually standing sentinel in perfect alignment, bore witness to an intrusion—an inexplicable disorder. 

-But you had this habit of putting in order books in a certain way. But it seemed someone messed it up.

-And it would be so strange for a stalker to just break into someone's house in order to...mess up their library ?

-What kind of shitty villain could do that ?

-You sighed.

 -The only one who could come in  your flat is Rudy, and it couldn't be Rudy since the guy was kind of obsessive with it too.

-Not a soldier for nothing, after all, being clean is part of it. 

-His library was impressive, he even gave advice to his local library about archives.

-So slowly, you pulled out one book, in order to put it back where it was supposed to be.

-You sighed, knowing it would take your night to do all the books.

-Until you noticed it.

-The letters.

-The first letters of each title were aligned.

-You stepped back, and you rode it.

-"I love you"

-You bite your lips and smiled.

-'Fucking idiot", you whispered, and you sent him a selfie with you and the books aligned.

-"Me too." you had texted.

-"I had thought you would never find it."

-"What do you mean ?"

-"It's been six months, it's like that."

-"What, no"

-"si."

-"Fuck, you-"

-"I thought you didn't want to address it before I realized you just haven't seen it."

-"I'm so sorry; fuck, you must have been stressed."

-"Not really"

-False. He cried to Alejandro one month after he did it, and you didn't answer. But you would never know that.

-"Well, now you know it's reciprocated."

-"Thanks, love"

-"Have a good night, honey".

He smiled. It'll definitely be a good night, now he knows you said I love you.

If you want more : my COD masterlist

And my whole masterlist

[cyn-write]

"Heaven's Light"

Summary: Rollo has been eyeing y/n since her arrival, seeing you as the diamond amongst coals. At the Ball, his feelings culminate into a confession, but he didn't expect her reply...

Pairing: Rollo×F!Reader

Warnings: Y/n is lonely and ignored by NRC boy, first love, possible OOC, not edited, Lots of Fluff, the Rollo brain rot is real

Note: This is a lot longer than I intended! I hope everyone going through Rollo brain rot enjoys and if you are interested in reading an SFW or NSFW epilogue, let me know! If you would like to read the other parts in what I am calling my "Glomas Series" I will put links below! "She Blazes Me Beyond all Control" ft. Azul, Idia, and Malleus "I Feel Her, I See Her " ft. Riddle, Deuce, Ruggie, and Jamil

"Who might you be miss?"

Y/n gave a kind smile and nodded her head in greeting "I'm y/n, it's nice to meet you," she stayed next to Trein as she was there as his assistant.

"Yuu is our magicless perfect of Ramshackle. She will be working as my assistant throughout the trip," Trein added.

She felt Rollo's eyes scan her, and, unlike his greetings to the rest, he held out a hand. Being poilet, she offered her hand as well, and he lifted it to his lips, grazing her knuckles quickly.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, y/n. I understand it must be difficult, being surrounded by mages every second of the day. I hope you get a chance to relax this trip." Y/n blushed at the motion and bit her lower lip. All the while she could feel some of the others glaring daggers at her and Rollo.

"I-I'll do my best..." Y/n replied. Throughout the entire trip, Rollo seemed to gravitate towards y/n and used every excuse to isolate her from the group. They chatted about her difficulties at NRC and at the festival. As they chatted, she felt more and more drawn to the Student Council President

This all accumulated at the Masquerade. Rollo had given Y/n a proper dress for the occasion instead of the attire his counsel had chosen. The red fabric decadently adorned her figure and stunned the NRC boys with its beauty. But before any of them could ask for a dance, Rollo stole y/n away. He whisked her to the dance floor, and they started chatting.

It all felt like a dream, a wonderful, beautiful dream. Even though Rollo had tried to destroy magic, he was also the only person during all her time in Twisted Wonderland that she felt seen. The boys had always pushed her to the side, even when she was the only one whom the fire lotuses couldn't hurt but instead of including her in the plan, she was put on babysitting duty. Even at NRC, she was the one who dealt with the overblots, yet never thanked or even recognized as a full student.

Then she met Rollo and ever since their meeting, he treated her like a person. He recognized all she did for the boys and thanked her for her contributions. He even set aside time to show her around. Y/n never believed in "love at first sight," but ever since Rollo's lips grazed her knuckles, she felt her heart do somersaults around the stoic 3rd year.

Now, he asked her to dance. She felt like the Glass Princess dancing with her prince and just like the Glass Princess, she knew this would only last until Midnight. By this time tomorrow, she would be back at NRC. Back to being invisible.

As the song came to a close, she thought her night was over, but he must have been thinking about the same thing.

"Y/n, can I show you something?" He asked as the music quieted for a small interlude before the next song began. His face may appear as stone, but his blue eyes quivered. He was nervous.

Y/n nodded, "Sure."

Rollo, being a gentleman, offered her his arm. Determined to enjoy the moment, y/n leaned into Rollo as he escorted her out of the ballroom and up to the empty balcony on the upper level of the ballroom. The sun was set and the night sky was stunning, but what Rollo wanted to show y/n was the city at night. It was like a starry night itself as the city lamps and lights twinkled. It was stunning.

"Rollo, this is beautiful..."

"Y/n, stay here with me." Y/n turned to look at Rollo in shock and confusion, "Those fools at NRC do not deserve your purity. They treat you like a ghost. And I-" Rouge graced his pale cheeks and he looked into her (e/c) eyes, "I-I... I can't bear the thought of you leaving. You belong here. with me." He places his cold hand atop hers, "Let this be your sanctuary."

Y/n's heartbeat rose into her throat and before she could properly think what he said through, her heart spoke first, "Yes."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rollo was prepared for her to shoot him down, uprooting her heart like they did his flowers. What he wasn't prepared for her to accept.

Nothing this Halloween went as planned. His plot to destroy magic failed, Malleus and the fools at NRC destroyed his flowers, and y/n waltzed into his life.

He had read about true love and deemed it poppycock. There was no such thing. Then he saw her in her NRC uniform and his heart felt like it leaped out of his chest and into the sky. She was a pure flame burning in his chest and distracting him. He tried to ignore it, but any time he saw her that plan quickly became impossible.

He reworked his original plan to ensure she would be unharmed and fall into his arms at the same time. The first part of his plan failed, but he couldn't lose her. She was the last flame he had left.

Rollo was so sure of himself at first. He sent her a new dress, a proper one that enhanced her beauty far more than the one his counsel chose, he fixed the ballroom himself, he made sure to be her first dance, he read up on how to court a lady, prepared what he would say to her as they danced, and how he would ask her to stay and be his. Though much like his original plan with the fire lotuses, the moment he saw her. She was stunning, so stunning that he almost forgot everything he prepared. Thankfully, he regained his composer before he asked her to dance.

Now he felt his nerves resurface as it came time for him to confess. All his confidence and preparation failed to calm his beating heart. Thoughts raced through his mind as they walked to the balcony. What if she says no? What if she rejects me? What if I misread all of our interactions? he thought as they went out into the cool night air. Should I just keep my mouth shut? Abandon ship before it sinks...

Then he saw her eyes light up as she saw the city at night. The lights aglow, the soft mummer of music coming from the ballroom, and he knew he had to try.

"Y/n, stay here with me." He blurted out before he could convince himself otherwise, he decided to let his heart speak for once and not let his head take control. ""Those fools at NRC do not deserve your purity. They treat you like a ghost. And I-" he paused for a second and felt the fire in his chest grow brighter and brighter, "I-I... I can't bear the thought of you leaving. You belong here. with me." He places his cold hand atop hers, "Let this be your sanctuary."

Silence. He averted his eyes and clenched his handkerchief in his pocket.

His doubts returned and he prepared himself for rejection. He started to form a retraction in his mind, but she, yet again, surprised him.

"Yes." She said, her (e/c) eyes glimmered like stars and her voice rang like the Bell of Solace. "I-I'll stay with you."

Rollo felt his heart stop. He looked her in the eyes again and squeezed her hand. "You mean it." He removed his free hand from his handkerchief and placed it tentatively on her cheek, "Y-you'll stay?"

She placed her hand stop his and leaned into his touch, "I do." He could see tears forming in the corner of her eyes, "I don't want to leave you either."

On pure impulse, he pulled her into a tight embrace. Half of him was convinced that she would disappear if he let her go, and the other half was relieved. She felt the same as him. She wanted to be with him.

"Rollo, you're shaking," She commented as she returned his embrace. He didn't realize he was shaking so much. It must be the relief of her accepting his proposal. She looked up at him and placed a hand on his cheek. Her skin was warm and comforting.

"I guess I am..." He said and placed his own hand on top, "This is just what you do to me, my Flame."

She giggled and her melodious laugh made him respond with one of his own. "Do I?" she responded.

"Yes," He gently moved a strand of her hair away from her face and his eyes landed on her lips. Those beautiful red lips beckoned his own, "You have set my heart ablaze and it makes me want to listen to my heart instead of my head."

"And what is your heart telling you to do now?" She asks in a teasing manner.

"To do this," He leaned in and kissed her. it was gentle, nervous at first. Then as he realized she was reciprocating, he deepened the kiss. They parted for a moment to catch their breath before claiming another kiss, then another. Solidifying their love above the City of Flowers.

Rollo may have failed to rid the world of magic, but he found his new Heaven's Light.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note: Please Like, Reblog, and Follow for more! If you are interested in seeing an NSFW part 2 or any other request, please let me know! (Do not Steal)

[byanyan]

been picking at the stuff at the top of my drafts this evening..... got five lil things in the queue rn that i think i'm gonna set to post tomorrow, but i'm also like. gonna keep going for a bit longer, see if i can't get a few more done too uvu

[gh0stsp1d3r]

IM PROBABLY SO ANNOYING BUT William Afton with like a childish reader? like she loves collecting plushies and still watches shows and is just overall super clingy and bubbly😭😭

No no you’re not annoying I LOVE YR REQUESTS!! Ahhh I love this!! (Because she’s me)

𝒪𝓃ℯ 𝒹𝒶𝓎

a bit ooc! For William, but it’s okay.

“Hey, bunny. I’m home!” He said, opening the door and kicking off his shoes. He looked around, not seeing you.

He looked down at the pink stuffed rabbit he held for a second and made his way to the room.

“You in here?” He asked, slowly pushing the door open. You were fast asleep on the bed, a show playing in the back. He smiled at the sight. You hugged your stuffed animal tight, something he knew you did when he wasn’t home. And he often came home late.

You were sleeping in his shirt, on his bed, the thought of that made him survive the day. With a quiet laugh, he shook his head to himself and made his way to the closet. He took off his shirt and pants, along with his socks.

He put on a pair of sweatpants and a plain white shirt and carefully got in the bed. Pulling the covers over him, and he put an arm around you.

—————————————

The next day was his day off, finally. From his “job counseling” and he decided to take a break from the pizzeria. He wanted to spend the whole day with you.

He was up a bit before you, staring at you and smiling as you slept until you woke up.

“Mmm. William?” You mumbled when you woke up, stirring.

“Mhm.”

“You’re not at work?”

“My day off.” He said quietly, and then he remembered he had bought you another stuffed animal yesterday.

“I bought you something last night, but you were asleep when I came back. Here.” He tried to move his hands around the bed and when he found it, grabbed it and handed it to you. You were now laying on your back.

He smiled when the corners of your mouth turned up. He liked seeing you happy.

“Thank you. I love it.” You messed with the floppy ears on the bunny and turning to him.

He nodded. “Only the best for the best.” He said, standing up from the bed.

“C’mon, I wanna take you out.”

You smiled at that, happy that he was taking the opportunity to do so. You got ready, and you both drove downtown.

First, it was to your favorite breakfast place.

“It’s so good over here, think we should go out more.” He said, chewing on his food.

You giggled at him, nodding in agreement.

Then it was to a few stores. He went to one to grab some things for work, and the rest, he brought you to for you to roam around and pick out whatever you wanted. (It hurt his pockets, but he didn’t mind.)

Then, later in the evening you both were walking along a beach, the beautiful skies made you beam as you both stared at the sunset on a bench, your head resting on his shoulder.

“I wish we could have more days like this.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe one day.” He imagined it in his head, the future for the both of you. “One day.” He whispered.

[merowkittie]

Art Therapist!Reader x Task Force 141

Summary: Today we’ll get to look at the first client, John Price.

Notes: I should comment that I’m not sure if I want this to go in a platonic route or a romantic way so we’ll see from here. Might make the readers decide. <3

I hope i capture all of the boys good, because I’m still fairly new writing for the cod men.. sorry if they’re very ooc </3

Oh boy.. writing this took a minute and I’m so not impressed with this one but trust.. this will get better :)

Do reblog, like, and comment to lmk what you think about this!

Thank you, sweets! 🎀

Part One. Client One: John Price.

The clack of your heels were heard through the halls as you smiled brightly, excited to get to know one of your new clients.

You had two sheets on a clipboard in your arms, a notepad in the other and a tote bag in your left arm.

You had some things you’d like to discuss with him, comforts, favorite snacks and tea. These are important you know! You always got the jitters when you had a new client.

Walking into your small office you sat your bag down on the side of your chair, and placed the clipboard and notepad neatly on your desk.

A sigh left your mouth and you rolled your neck around, trying to crack it and find relief.

“Mm.. ok, where to start..?” You mumbled to yourself as you looked at your bag and nodded.

Starting to unload everything you put your thermal cup filled with peppermint tea on your desk, a sketchbook, coloring book, and coloring pencils neatly into a pile.

Next you pressed the button on your work phone to hear all of your new voice mails and put lights on, in the dimly lit room.

You had two lamps that brightened the room with a nice yellow hue and a flower lamp on your desk that shined a pink light.

“Ms. Kate left a voice message, it says, ‘Good morning, you said 9:30 but we’ll be there a bit earlier than that. He’s adamant about being early to things. John is a very— He’s a man that likes to stay on the move you know? Keep that in mind. He likes his hands full. Anyways, see you around 9:20– 25. Thank you, Again.’ —”

You laughed at her comment, knowing well you like to have your hands full too and can’t stay doing nothing for too long.

The time on your clock stated 9:15, so they’d be here soon. There wasn’t much else you needed to set up in your cozy office but you decided to fluff out the pillows on the couch across from your desk and prep your notes.

Finally, after you killed some time drawing in your sketchbook you heard a knock on your door. There was quiet chatter.

“Come in please!” You called out, closing your sketchbook and looking up towards the door.

In walked in who you assumed was Kate Laswell and behind her was a handsome gruff looking man. He was very well built, a nice beard and mustache and he looked around the same age as the woman. He also had a nice ass but you shook your head away from those thoughts.

Standing up your walked around your desk and grinned widely, you stated your name and then, “It’s a pleasure to meet the both of you. I’m very excited for todays session if you couldn’t tell..”

“Nothing wrong with that. I’m hoping this goes smoothly.” The man, who you’re sure is John, smiles at you and nods approvingly.

“Yes, you won’t give her a hard time right?” Kate jokes and he shakes his head and raises his eyebrows.

“She should be worried about Soap. That man is a twat sometimes.” You chuckled along with him and waved your hand dismissing that.

You pointed to the couch and asked them to have a seat so you could talk to them about basics first and grabbed your notepad and a pen, sitting in your chair.

“Before we start, I want to re-introduce myself. My name is y/n, and I’ve been doing art therapy for three years. I have a degree in arts and a degree in counseling/therapy.” You waved your hands around as you talked.

Kate and John nodded at your words as you spoke and they seemed pretty impressed with what you said.

“Kate Laswell, John Price. It’s nice to meet someone enthusiastic like you.”

You smiled at the comment and then let the two settle in on the couch. Tapping your fingers in your desk you spoke again.

“Ok so, I’m sure you may have questions that you wanted to ask personally! Some worries and concerns?” You tilted your head to the side and smiled, “Or would you like me to give you a brief explanation on what I strive to achieve with art therapy?”

“It’s be nice if you explained it better.. I feel like this is too childish for a man like me.” John commented.

“Mhm, I understand what you mean. A lot of people believe that but it’s all about what works for YOU. Art is a form of expression that anyone can use. Why not incorporate that into helping others and finding yourself too, Hm?” You aided.

It was a bit silent in the room after what you said. John nodded his head, his arms crossed over his chest and pursed his lips, turning to face Kate.

“I like you. Hopefully the boys will too. God knows we need this type of energy with the line of work we’re involved in.” Kate sighs, “I’ll take my leave, and be back around.. 10:30?”

“Yes! 10:30 or you can come around 10:25. Either works for me, If it works for you,” You got up and extended your hand, “Thank you, by the way. I live my life as optimistic as possible and like to bring that into the workplace.”

Kate nods and shakes your hand. Her hold is firm and strong, she’s a kind woman.

“John, play nice.” She said, facing the older man, before leaving and giving you a smile.

After she left you looked at Price and clapped your hands together.

“Well, now I have some personal questions for you. These are about boundaries but I hope you do know we might have to cross them once in a while ok?” You sat on top of your desk this time moving your notepad and pen onto your lap.

John folded his hands on his lap and looked at you in your eyes. It was silent for a moment yet again, though you didn’t mind. If he needed time to formulate his words you’d give him all the time in the world.

He opened his mouth then closed it, with a huff he said, “There’s not many boundaries I have, I’m sure you’re supposed to start slow when doing these sessions, yea?” you nodded, “So I believe you won’t be asking too much about me yet, so when the time comes.. I’ll be somewhat of an open book.”

He smiled at you slightly, tight lipped and tapped his fingers against his knuckles.

You took a breath in, then let it out. Humming at his words you write down on your note pad:

‘Price. Little to no boundaries at all. Open book maybe by the third sesh.’

His eyes watch your fingers as you’re writing, he’s a bit tense, not really knowing what to do. He can already imagine Simon being worse than he is right now.

“Ok so! I do have a question that Ms.Kate didn’t really specify, and I forgot to ask. Is there a problem that’s bugging any of you? Or is this just to maintain a good mind set— or close to an ok mind set?” You put your hands out, trying to elaborate in a more understanding way, “For example, keeping your anger in check, having an outlet to let out heavy emotional burdens.. those types of things?”

John ran his fingers through his beard and tapped his foot on the ground, thinking on what you said. He didn’t exactly have any thing bugging him, he’s been working in the military for well around 18+ years and that’ll get you used to the atrocities you see.

“I’m pretty sure Kate had the latter in mind when doing these sessions. I know I don’t have much bugging me, I’m about ready to retire sometimes,” he joked with a laugh, “It’d be nice to have an outlet from what we do every now and then.”

You laughed with him and nodded your head. His words resonated well with you. Anyone knew that working in the military/army would drain you. Could leave you mentally unwell after years.

So you strived to understand and learn each and every one of these men. To hopefully be able to aid them in different, helpful ways.

“Well, im glad you think so! Now, I actually have something I want you to do today. It’s very simple.”

Pulling out a coloring book and some color pencils, you held them out in front of you, “So, we won’t be doing anything too big— yet! I have a coloring book here that goes based off of mood. It’s also a journal. I want you to write in this everyday, starting today, ok?”

John raised his brows at you and you raised yours back. He scratched his beard and looked down at the coloring book with different mood faces on it. He took a copy of one book and a pack of coloring pencils you offered after.

You opened up the book to the first page and pointed to the happy face. Underneath the face were lines and a quote that asks you why you were feeling the emotion you were feeling.

“Currently I’m feeling happy, I’ll take a yellow pencil and color that face in.” You explained simply, “I’m feeling this way because I’ve had my favorite tea, my cat cuddled with me this morning, and I’m looking forward to my new clients.”

Once you finished you turned the book around and showed John. “That’s all you have to do. Nothing too long, but if you prefer to do that I don’t mind. Just don’t give me a word or two. I want one to three sentences.”

You watched as he began to do what you did. He colored in the neutral face with a brown colored pencil and underneath he wrote two sentences explaining why he felt that way.

For the rest of your session you introduced yourself more and had him give you tid bits about his life and line of work. In your mind you wanted to have this space be as personal but comfortable as possible.

You talked a bit about your life as well, giving him insight into your day to day life and how your other sessions go sometimes without disclosing private information about your other clients.

Soon enough the time came to when he had to leave and your session ended.

As Kate waited by the door, you put your hand out towards John, “I hope to see that book filled out. If anything is bothering you after today, write it down and we can go over it, yea?” He nodded his head shaking your hand, and let out a gruff ‘yes’.

He left with that and you were alone in your office thinking over this mornings events. It was slow paced and simple. You didn’t like unpacking a lot of information on the first day. Over time they’d get more comfortable and the art part of this would help them express how they felt without speaking. Actions are always far bigger than words.

You cracked your knuckles and went back to your chair, looking through your schedule planner, tomorrow you’d have a man by the name of Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley.

Huh, what a name.

Tag list: @speckledemerald @mxtokko

If you want to be notified when more parts of this series comes out please lmk and I will add you to the tag list <3

[stalwartprotector]

So, I've been thinking about it, and I think I'm going to do a blog swap. This blog is probably going to become @whotellsthestories--a BG3 multi for original, adapted, alternate, and canon muses--and I'm moving Halsin to be a sideblog. So much as I love him, he's been quiet for a bit now, hence why I haven't even touched this blog in a month or longer.

[arabian-bloodstream]

OK, so, I've been reading a lot o' comments about how Rhaenyra is so different from Young!Rhaenyra, and things that Rhaenyra is doing now is so stupid and/or OOC. And I'm like, nuh uh! Like, no. What we've been seeing this season just follows the same exact pattern as Young!Rhaenyra. Let me elucidate:

Scenario 01: Dangerous situation, Rhaenyra wants to avoid bloodshed, menfolk tell her nope, nope, nopeity-nope!, Rhaenyra ignores them and runs off in secret to handle the situation herself. Why? Because she has a connection with this person. Even if they are not exactly on the best terms right now, there is still a connection between them bred over many years and she truly believes that she, and she alone, can get through to them and avoid bloodshed. So, she goes.

Dangerous situation =

- (S1) Dragonstone mini-armies facing off when Daemon stole Baelon's egg

- (S2) King's Landing under TargTower rule

Person she has connection with/not on best terms =

- (S1) Daemon

- (S2) Alicent

Was it stupid that she went into King's Landing to speak to Alicent? Yes! Could she have gotten herself killed? Yes! Against the counsel of all those around her? Yes. Did she not do the exact very thing in S1? Yes, yes, she did! It was a bold, reckless move. It paid off in S1. Had Alicent ANY power now, it *could* have paid off in S2. Unfortunately, for Rhaenyra, Alicent has zero, nada, zip power.

Scenario 02: Rhaenyra is abandoned by Daemon. She gets her groove on with someone else.

- (S1) Criston Cole, Harwin Strong

- (S2) Mysaria

Ya'll want Rhaenyra to act like Young!Rhaenyra, and yet when she does, you cry foul. Noooo! But, my Daemyra fam, THIS IS RHAENYRA. She's a royal who gets what she wants, and when she doesn't get it, she fills the void. It doesn't mean that she doesn't love Daemon with all of her heart. It means that she's not perfect. It means that she has lived a certain life, a certain way and right now she is frustrated beyond all measure because like when she felt suffocated when she was younger, she wants to break out, break free.

Daemon gave her a window briefly and then left her. Mysaria is giving her that window too, but Rhaenyra doesn't love her. She loves Daemon, so Mysaria is her Daemon-substitute. I've talked much of Daemon's journey/arc this season. Well, Rhaenyra has her own arc. She's been sitting around, suffocating, and waiting for Daemon to come home. Like she waited for him when she was young.

Well, maybe her journey is that this time she's not going to wait. She's going to break her pattern and go after him. Instead of replacing him, she's going to find him and put him in his place.

We'll see.

[dwellordream]

thoughts on HOTD, episode 5, season 2 (spoilers below)

I think the scene of Meleys being paraded through the streets was well done. It captured the sheer magnitude of a dragon's death to smallfolk who have never seen a dragon die in battle, and certainly not in battle so near to home. I like that we see some of the smallfolk hesitantly bowing reverently to the severed head, while others decry the Greens for it, and others still begin to realize that dragons are simply animals which can be butchered with enough force.

I'm glad they didn't wimp out on Aegon's burns. Probably they could have gone even gnarlier, but I have hope we will see them bring back Viserys' mask from season 1. And it shows us how quickly Criston reverts to arrogant contempt when he feels threatened- he can't even admit to Alicent how badly he fucked up, and now that she's distanced herself from him, he wants to grind her underfoot as much as he did Rhaenyra.

The Brackens openly goading Daemon- and Daemon threatening to burn them, then belatedly realizing he can't afford to for PR reasons, then trying to pawn it off on the Blackwoods- who seem fully willing to war-crime it up, so I'm glad they're not being portrayed as the Noble Heroic Victims threatened by those Evil Andal Brackens- is so Daemon-core. He is pathetic. He's always been pathetic.

Some of my friends have been theorizing that the show, in an effort to play up the Jace - Robb parallels, may actually keep Jace alive longer in an effort to build up his character. So I could totally see them having him survive the Gullet- maybe switching him and Joffrey's deaths- and having him perish after Rhaenyra has taken King's Landing, while trying to prevent the mob from descending on the Dragonpit. (I am not the first person to think of this, BTW, but I'd be excited if they did that- Joffrey is basically a nonentity.)

I'm aware a lot of Targaryen fans loathed the Daemon/Alyssa hallucination, but like, come on. Daemon projecting his Ideal Valyrian Woman fantasy onto the dead mother he never knew is a step too far? Really? it makes perfect sense for him. Daemon wants the fantasy of the 'perfect match' with a fiery, proud Targaryen woman- but in reality, he can't cope with the daily conflicts and compromises of a marriage with anyone, even the most biddable woman. He would never be content with the title of 'consort' in the long-run. Anyone who seriously thinks he and Rhaenyra would have had a long and stable marriage after she won the Iron Throne is kidding themselves. Daemon loves her, but that's not enough.

Alys' concern for the smallfolk surprised me a bit, but I'm not upset by it. It gives her more nuance than just 'evil scheming smallfolk witch' and sets her up as a foil for Mysaria, only 'counseling' Daemon with hauntings. At the same time, her hauntings are convincing Daemon that no one will respect him unless he makes a name for himself as a brutal sole ruler- one who is willing to do what Rhaenyra won't, slowly dooming him.

I don't find it OOC for Baela to refuse Driftmark- she was raised with the expectation she would someday be queen, obviously that's what she wants and desires. However, it would have been nice to see her suggest that Corlys offer Driftmark to Rhaena instead, even if we know Corlys is highly unlikely to agree with that- Rhaena has no dragon and is stereotyped as more 'soft' and 'feminine' than her twin.

I like the subplot with Hugh the Hammer. I'm glad they're not portraying him as a dimwitted thug, the way Fire & Blood does. He has valid reasons to want to secure power to protect his family and drag them out of poverty, and I hope they don't suddenly pivot to him turning evil the second he gains a dragon.

I feel like I genuinely don't have as much to say about this episode; it went by pretty fast, and it felt a bit fillery at times. That said, I still enjoyed it, and I'd give it a decent 8/10.