#I’ve also been desperate for male approval on this front too

[womenaremypriority]

I can understand transmasc people who seem to mostly have an issue with simply being called women, tbh. I can perfectly understand why it would mostly be a linguistic issue for some. From a young age, I was jealous of men and aware they were considered less cool than women. This is even worse now because of the internet- I’ll show you one example.

Why is it gendered? Why are men the people who would understand this? This type of joke has always been on the internet, and it’s probably taken on a different form in the past ~5 years or so, but the assumption that the listener/reader is male and that men are the cool, fun sex are a constant. There are small pockets more oriented towards women but most isn’t. It’s always, always bothered me, and I can absolutely see some women just having better connotations with the word ‘man’ than ‘woman’.

Even though a part of you understands it’s misogyny, and it’s not a reflection of actual women, you eventually start to feel like it’s you that’s the problem. I truly feel like if I had kept going down the same route, I would have eventually identified as a trans man, and not nonbinary like I had a first. My brain started to interpret the anguish at seeing things like this and wanting to belong with men as proof I’ve always been one. Even if you have women you care about and don’t consciously think all women fit a certain mold, it still doesn’t feel right. This is made even worse by the trans community acting like ‘cis women’ is a boring thing to be. It sucks. I’m not going to deny that for some individuals sex dysphoria is very real, and not every one shares this experience, but this has existed in my life for a long time, and it felt very real to me at the time. So I do think for plenty of women, it’s not our female body, it’s not feminine clothing, it’s simply being referred to as a women.

[foreverrandomwritings]

Alliance Maker-Chapter 4

Summary: Some of the inner circle questions you about your life. Wounds that are still fresh get probed at. Many questions are still left unanswered.

Pairing: Slow burn! Azriel x Afab!Reader

Warnings: Hunting, death, torture, whipping... I think that's it, please let me know if there is more that I missed.

Word count: 1840 (Azriel isn't in this part but I promise that in the next chapter he will make an appearance.)

Masterlist Series Masterlist

You didn't have to wait long for the High Lady and High Lord. You had put on a pair of trousers and an oversized tunic that you had been informed was Azriels who was currently out on business. Cassian knew you would completely swim in his own so he had retrieved the slightly smaller one from his brother's room. The holes meant for wings left your back exposed. Your own wings had disappeared when you had gotten injured. 

You all sat around the dining room table. The tension in the air was like a heavy blanket. For some reason however you were calm. The scent coming off the shirt you were wearing was soothing you. They all stared at you for a while before you finally spoke up. 

“Young huntress, I'm glad to see you are doing so well! You’ve come a long way since your first day in the woods.” She looked at you with quizzical eyes. You gave her a mischievous smile in return. 

“I would occasionally watch you hunt when I got bored. Also wanted to make sure you weren’t going to do anything stupid enough to get yourself killed. You caught on mighty quick however.” The approval leaked out of your voice with your words as you gave her a gentle smile. 

“I had never realized you watched me.” She said to you with an uneasy waver in her voice. Rhysand picked up on the tone in her voice and gripped the arm of the chair he was in tightly. 

“It wasn’t very often since I’d mostly be helping my father around our house and shop. You also were never very good at watching out for other people. You were always too focused on the animals around you.” You said simply shrugging your shoulders in nonchalance. 

“Now onto the harder questions, who would like to go first?” You asked the group as your eyes flicked to each of them. 

“How are you a Fae?” Nesta asked first, it was the question she was desperately wanting to know. The question that had been eating away at her since she first found you. 

“I am cauldron made. The first one thrown in as a simple mortal and dumped out a gifted Fae.” You said as your thoughts drifted slightly to the feeling of being embraced by the cauldron. You were quick to snap back to the reality in front of you not liking to dwell on the past. Nesta gave you a look of understanding. But the group had looks of indifference. You being cauldron made did make the most sense. But on the other hand they also didn’t realize there had been someone changed before Elain. 

“How did you come across the wall?” Rhysand asked you voice full of apprehension as he still struggled to wrap his head around you. 

“There were about ten of Hyberns men scrounging through the woods. I had been hunting when they found me. I knew it was dangerous being so close to the wall but I’ve always liked a thrill. I really should’ve known better since Feyre went missing after killing that fae wolf Andras.” You nodded towards the female across from you. There was a look of surprise on their face at the mention of the male that had sacrificed his life for the good of his High Lord. 

“I tried to take them down but they poisoned me with something before I had the opportunity to unleash hell.” Your nose scrunched up at the memory of the disgusting smell the poison had given off. Everyone around the table had a look of understanding in their eyes.

“I killed three of them before it fully took over my body. Which was something I paid for later on.” The gashes along your back seemed to burn as though you had been getting whipped once again. You shifted ever so slightly in your seat, willing the unwanted feeling away. 

“You’re about the age for a female to be married over there so did you leave a husband behind?” You shook your head at Cassian's question, thankful for the change of subject. Even if the question was slightly misogynistic.  

“I was taken from my father and that was all. I have been trying to contact him since escaping.” The thought of not having seen your father in so long sinking in had your voice lowering. It was the longest you’d ever gone without speaking to or seeing him. 

“Where is he at?” Came from Feyre, your eyes connected to hers before focusing on the windows behind her. 

“I’m guessing he is somewhere over here. I went back to our home and there was no sign of him there. Then I heard whispers of the Fae that had come and saved them to give them solace over here. To save them from a disastrous fate. I’m hoping he is safe and that I’ll be able to see him again one day.” You missed your father so much your chest started to hurt as the hope filled your heart of finally being able to see him again. Finally being able to embrace him and hear him call you the beloved nickname he had bestowed upon you many years ago is all you had hoped for. But you had refused to find him until you were somewhere safe. Somewhere that you could call home and could build a life. 

“You had wings when we found you but now they are gone.” Cassian said it with an even yet curious tone. You smiled at that and thanked the cauldron for the open back chair and slits in the shirt you were in as you popped the wings back out. 

“The cauldron was very generous.” You stretched your wings out and let out a sigh of relief. The feeling of them stretching your back caused a soothing ache to run through your body. You also didn’t miss the look Rhysand and Feyre gave each other, the only ones that they knew of that grew wings on their own command were themselves. 

“Those are different from illyrian wings.” This time it was Emerie that spoke up. She was right they were more like the wings of a beast not seen for centuries before Rhysand was even born. They were black as night and pure cobalt blue, the wingspan larger than that of an Illyrian. They were slightly thicker than their wings and went farther down your back by about half a foot. The similarities were the five sharp spikes at the bottom of each wing and a singular sharp spike at the top of each end. 

“Yes yes. I’ve been told it’s likely because I have a different form waiting inside of me to be let out.” You drummed your fingers along the table as you thought about the first time the wings had shown up. It was after you had escaped and you were extremely grateful that they had shown up when they did. They did a splendid job of shielding you until you learned how to fly with them. 

“And who told you that?” Your eyes found the short yet powerful Fae at the table. Amren you’d take it from the description you’d previously been told. She had arrived with Rhysand and Feyre. 

“Helion.” The one name answer seemed to shock everyone around the table. Yet Amren simply narrowed her eyes at you. She was trying to find a reason to tell her High Lord and High Lady to send you back where you came from. 

“And how were you able to get a visit with him?” Rhysand was sitting up straighter in his chair. Helion wasn’t known for being malicious or blind eyed. But taking a visit with a stranger that belonged to no court seemed a bit far fetched. 

“I asked nicely.” The grin you gave him was purely feline and proud. Cassian snorted at the answer though causing you to send him a wink. 

“Why didn’t we see you while we were within the walls of Hybern?” Nesta asked the question lightly. She didn’t like thinking of the experience so she wasn’t sure how you’d react thinking about it. 

“I fought tooth and nail so you wouldn’t. I didn’t want you to see me as I was.” Your mouth grew dry as you finished your sentence. You looked down at the table and started scratching at a non-existent chip with your fingernail. A glass of water was placed next to your hand causing you to stop. You took it greatfully and gulped it down. When you looked back up there were many eyes looking at you that were full of pity. The High Lord went to open his mouth but you cut him off. 

“It is not a subject I would like to talk about. If you don’t mind, I would like for that to be the end of it.” Hands forming into fists you held his stare. He broke it when a hand laid upon his arm. He glanced to the side and Feyre was looking at him, they had a silent conversation before he turned back and nodded at you. 

“Please don’t try to enter my mind again either.” You had felt him trying while you were unconscious. Luckily your shields were still up while you were in your temporary coma. He kept his surprise and embarrassment off his face. Though you could see it in the way he flexed his hand and looked down at his shirt for lint that wasn’t there.

“You must be starving.” It was Feyre that broke the tension. Your stomach chose that moment to let out a large growl in reply. Then the house was setting down food in front of everyone. 

“Uhm?” You looked at the food and then up at Nesta. Then your mind snapped back to the water that you didn't hear anyone get up to give you. 

“The house is kind of sentient.” She gave you a bored look, the others had already started eating. 

“Thank you House.” You called out and in reply you got a plate of berry cobbler. Cassian then mumbled under his breath that he wanted some to but the house only answered with a glass of water. 

“How would you feel about coming to training in the morning?” Cassian’s question had you looking at him while picking up a fork to dig into your dinner.

“I would love to. I haven’t had anyone to train with in a while.” your mind went to your time spent in Dawn, training with the guard there many months ago. A smile graced your lips at the thought of being able to see Thesan and his lover again in the future. The group of you ate in mostly silence. They occasionally talked about the High Lord and High lady’s son Nyx. There was talk about Mor and Azriel. You went to bed that night wrapped in Azriel's shirt, the smell lulling you into your first nightmare-less dream since escaping Hyberns grasp.

A/N: The next chapter will get things cooking a bit. Thank you all so much for reading, likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated.

Tags(open): @theeleggymeggy @wolfsbane44 @moonlwghts @maddietheshoe @hyemishii @fanboyluvr @kmc1989 @acourtofinkandpapyrus @luvmoo

[havin-a-wee]

Doctor's Orders

pairing: gynecologist!harry x reader/doctor!harry x reader

word count: 2.3k+

warnings: smut, fingering

this is so long overdue i apologize but this is a request! i kinda love this piece so i hope you guys do too!

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY

You sucked in a harsh breath as you heard your name being called from the front desk, the smiley old lady gesturing for you to follow her. You timidly walked behind her, your feet shuffling on the obnoxiously patterned carpet that lined the hallways.

You aren’t one to fear doctor’s appointments, in fact, you have never been apprehensive about going to one until right now. This appointment was something you’ve been avoiding for a while since you had moved to London, but there came a point where you couldn’t put it off for any longer. Back in the states, you were comfortable with your gynecologist, and you had no issue talking to her about problems you were having regarding your genitalia. But now that you were in a new city, you didn’t have the comfort that came with visiting a long-term doctor and faced new ones for the first time since you were a child. The rest of the doctor’s visits were pretty standard, but your private parts were something you struggled with understanding, Sure, you have seen porn and had sex, but it was never a fulfilling experience. In fact, you have never reached an orgasm. About a year ago you gave up on looking for men to help you and made it a mission to bring yourself to a climax. But alas, none of your efforts seemed to work. At this point, you were convinced that something was wrong with you, hence the gynecologist visit. Male gynecologist, that is.

Over the past month, you have spent a lot of time researching gynecologists in your area. The first one that came up was the one you are at now, but considering his gender you continued your hunt. But it kept leading you back to this one doctor, Dr. Styles, and that was why you are currently sitting in an exam room in his office.

You reassured yourself by looking up his name on your smartphone, scrolling through the 5-star reviews. The number of people who seemed to absolutely love this guy helped settle your nerves, so you read through them as you waited for a knock on the door.

That knock finally arrived a few minutes later, and you picked your head up and looked at the wooden door. “Come in!”

A head popped inside from behind the door as it was pushed open, and the doctor’s eyes found yours while he made his way into the small room. He’s tall, with a mop of chocolate brown curls on his head and bright green eyes accompanied by a friendly smile. He sat down, eyes never leaving yours until he placed his computer down and the screen lit up.

“‘Ello Darlin, m’Dr. Styles, but y’can call me Harry if you’d like.” He stuck out a hand, and your palm swiftly met his, the two of you looking at one another as you shook hands. His hands were enormous, and the rings placed on his fingers were cold to the touch. “Considering you’re a new patient, I took a peek at y’records and such, and I saw that y’ve always had a female gyno.”

You nodded your head slowly, opening your mouth to respond but getting cut off by Dr. Styles. “So I just wanted t’let y’know tha’ theres nothing t’be ashamed off, and I know what I’m doin’ so I promise you’re in expert hands.”

“Yeah, I was nervous, but I couldn’t ignore the amazing reviews people have given you, so I made an appointment.” You appreciated his reassurance a lot, and it really helped in the easing of your jitters. He turned back to his computer after nodding in response to you, clicking on a few keys before diverting his attention back to you.

“So what seems t’be the problem today Y/N?” An initial wave of shock hit you when he said your name, but it quickly dissolved when you remembered that he literally has access to all your medical information, so of course, he knows your name.

“This is a bit of an odd thing to come in for on my first appointment with you, but I think my vagina doesn’t work.” You let out a breathy chuckle at your own words. Dr. Styles seemed unphased by your forwardness, and you assumed he had heard a lot more abrasive things than that. “I’m a 22-year-old woman, but I’ve never had an orgasm. For the past year I’ve been focusing on doing it without a partner, but no matter how much time I spent or how many fancy toys I buy, I just end up feeling unsatisfied and disappointed.” He nodded along as you explained your issue, placing his chin in his hand while his elbow was placed on the desk.

“Have y’had any STD tests recently?”

“Yes, I had one last week, I’m clean and I’ve never had one in the past.”

“Is there any possibility tha’ you’re pregnant?”

“No, I haven’t slept with anyone in over a year.” You knew what questions he would ask, so to avoid wasting time you were giving him all the information he would need.

“When y’are sleeping with someone, do y’feel any sort of pleasure?”

“Yeah, but it’s just never enough, I guess.” His lips curled into an expression of concentration, and he pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. The room was silent for all of around 30 seconds, but soon enough Dr. Styles spoke up.

“Based on yeh’ history and what y’telling me, it seems that y’just haven’t found the right bloke.” Your eyebrows lifted in surprise at his simple answer. It couldn’t be that simple, could it? “M’guessing y’can’t get y’self off cause’ y’tense and not fully relaxed. And the guys y’ve been with ave’all been doin’ a rubbish job.” He chuckled along with you, and you couldn’t help but agree with him. There was no one you could think of that had actually made you feel good the entire time and had actually focused on your pleasure and theirs. Most of the hookups you took part in were with frat boys who would stick their dick into anything with a hole. “But just in case, lemme’ check y’out just to make sure.”

He stood up from his chair and you swung your legs up on the cot, laying down on it. While you had waited for the doctor, you changed into the gown you were provided with, so there was only a thin piece of fabric between you and the curly-headed man that had taken a seat at the end of the seat.

It was now that you were faced with a dilemma that your anxious brain hadn’t even thought of prior to the appointment.

Dr. Styles was attractive. Like, really, really attractive.

Dr. Styles was attractive. Like, really, really attractive. And probably because of the nature of your discussion (and the fact that your body is severely desperate for sexual release), your core had been heating up since he first stepped into the room. So now, he would lift the skirt of the gown and see a pool of velvety wetness coating the inside of your thighs.

The back of the seat was propped up, allowing you to see him. This was a good thing for him because he could talk to you while he does his job, but it means you will have to look at him after he sees the mess you’ve made.

“May I?” His fingers gripped onto the edges of the gown, and you swallowed hoarsely before nodding your approval. While you know that he probably has witnessed much more embarrassing situations than the one you were in right now, it didn’t make the predicament any better. As you suspected, he kept a straight face when he lifted the flimsy material from your legs. Without taking a second glance, he turned to a bottle on his desk and pumped a dollop of lube onto his glove-clad fingertips. He used his other gloved hand to spread the lubricant, only turning back to you when his two fingers were both well coated in the substance. “Y’alright?” Once again, you nodded at his question. “Tell me with words darlin’, wanna make sure y’comfortable.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. What kind of exam are you doing exactly?” That question popped into your mind right before it rolled off your tongue because you noticed he had never specified exactly what he was looking for.

“M’just gonna use m’finger,” he held his lube-covered fingers, “and feel around, just t’make sure everythins’ fine.”

“Ok, sounds good.”

“M’gonna start now, s’gonna be cold at first.”

You hissed when his fingers met your sopping hole, and you had to resist the urge to kick your legs while he slowly pushed his fingers inside of you. The feeling was strange, but definitely not unwelcome. The contrast from his icy fingers to your warm center was sending a tingling sensation down your spine. You could feel his fingers push around inside of you, caressing your walls. And you know you shouldn’t. But his fingers were hitting all the right nerves, and you couldn’t help but find the experience immensely pleasurable.

Despite your best efforts, a small moan of satisfaction escaped your lips. Immediately, you went stiff, and you could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks. You just moaned while your doctor had his fingers inside you. For a moment you thought he would ignore the sexual noise that you had just made. But he suddenly looked up at you, his eyes previously locked on his fingers.

“Well, if y’moanin’ just from that, y’more sexually deprived than I thought.” He chuckled, and you cracked a small smile, but that was before his words actually hit you.

Was he, hitting on you?

Maybe not flirting, but that definitely wasn’t something that doctors say to their patients very often. His smirk was also giving you the idea that he had certain intentions.

“Everything seem good down’ere, so I think tha’ problem is with the guys y’gettin with, not you. What type of people do y’usually sleep with.”

“When I was sexually active, it was usually frat boys, so I guess I should’ve known I wasn’t the problem.” You let out a small laugh, Dr. Styles seems to have found it much more amusing, as his chuckle came from deep within his chest. A small movement came with the laugh, which also reminded you that his fingers were still very much inside of you.

“It seems y’need someone who knows his way around,” he cleared his throat, and you smiled as you realized what he was hinting at. “and y’my last paitent of the day, so m’more than happy t’help y’out.” He looked down at his feet shyly, and you found it adorable how he was nervous about what he was proposing. But you were on the verge of tears from how hard it was to hold back your physical response to his touches. Your body relaxed when the words came out of his mouth, and you let out the whine that had been building up in your throat.

“Yes-Harry, god yes.” It was the first time you were using his first name, but the smirk on his face showed his approval.

He quickly removed his fingers from your heat, and you whined again, this time in frustration. Losing contact left you feeling cold, but that feeling only lasted a fleeting moment, as soon as he was pushing his fingers into you again, this time bare.

“Y’already so wet love, what got y’this worked up hmm?”

“Y-you, Harry, I want you.” You tripped over your words, but they came out clear enough for him to understand because he began moving his fingers at the encouragement. His fingers began to pump in and out of you, and you knew he must have been right about not being with the right guys before, because the simple movements left you as putty in his hands. You barely got any pleasure from fingering in your other sexual encounters, but you were already a moaning mess underneath the man. He lifted his other hand, which had also had the glove on it removed, and placed the pad of his finger on your puffy clit. You mewled loudly and his smirk widened.

“Any o’those boys ever make y’feel this good darlin’?” You shook your head furiously, and he smiled, rubbing circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves. You were already seeing stars, and you could feel an unfamiliar knot forming in your stomach. “Y’so pretty, did y’know tha’?”

You couldn’t muster up enough strength to respond to his second question, but the loud moan that you let out was enough of an answer for him. His movements sped up, fingers pumping in and out of you and his other thumb pressing circles on your button.

“Harry-”

“Think y’close darlin’? Ready t’come fo’ the first time?”

“Yes, yes..” Your voice trailed off when a guttural moan rumbled through your throat. Although you haven’t had one before, you were sure that he was about to bring you to an orgasm. There was a tight feeling in your stomach and you knew it was just about to burst.

“Fuck-”

The knot burst and your orgasm rolled through your body, reaching every nerve inside of you. The feeling was euphoric, and your senses were heightened as your body experienced this new feeling.

“Thas’ it, good girl,” he cooed, slowing his movements and removing his fingers from your now overly sensitive clit. He worked you through your orgasm until fully removing his fingers from you, and you let out a sigh as he did so. “Definitely not somethin’ wrong with ya’, I can tell y’that.”

He smiled up at you and you returned the gesture, your smile only faltering when he turned away to write something down. You took the opportunity to get up and change, quickly dressing while his back was turned.

He turned in his chair to face you once again, handing you a small piece of paper. You took it from between his fingers to see a phone number scribbled on it in black ink.

“Is Doctor Styles giving me his number?” You said it in a cheeky way, smirking back at him.

“Yes, and he’s telling you to text him when you get home. Doctor’s orders.”

[highladyluck]

Wheel of Time 01x01 liveblog

Ok, time to share my (slightly cleaned up) episode-by-episode liveblog! I will have a longer post later about Mat because those thoughts are more developed and this is more for immediate reactions.

Here’s a teaser:

I love how the camera is doing the work of showing people's POVs- every time the camera was following Mat and then it zooms in on a shiny thing I'm like THAT'S THE INSIDE OF MAT'S HEAD! THAT'S THE LITTLE VOICE IN HIS BRAIN THAT PRICES EVERYTHING HE SEES! THAT'S HIS LITTLE MAGPIE BRAIN CONSTANTLY MAKING SLOT MACHINE NOISES GOD BLESS

Oh hot damn love how they're doing the madness with a person only the male channeler can see (wonder if that's going to be how everyone goes mad?)

I hate that Liandrin is hot. Fuck you Liandrin.

I love all the rituals in the first episode especially!

Nyneave YEET

How dare Egg be so pretty; related, the shades of blue in this episode are so gorgeous

"Something's been driving [the wolves] down from the mountain" (Spoiler alert: It's Perrin)

"Only the sheep to keep him warm"

I love Barney's physicality as Mat!

Also omg Mat I see you have a type

I love how the camera is doing the work of showing people's POVs- every time the camera was following Mat and then it zooms in on a shiny thing I'm like THAT'S THE INSIDE OF MAT'S HEAD! THAT'S THE LITTLE VOICE IN HIS BRAIN THAT PRICES EVERYTHING HE SEES! THAT'S HIS LITTLE MAGPIE BRAIN CONSTANTLY MAKING SLOT MACHINE NOISES GOD BLESS

Soft Rand

I love the women all getting drunk together! It feels so damn refreshing to see a bunch of ladies just living it up in a tavern. It's such a simple genderswap but it feels strikingly fresh and new. Like, this is a fantasy/post-apocalyptic world where women can just get drunk in the local tavern with the girls!!! This is what I loved about the WoT worldbuilding, it removes the gendered existential background dread that I've spent my whole life either indulging or fighting or at least aware of. (and it gives it to men instead of eliminating it altogether! but the first part of the fantasy really speaks to me)

Nyneave like "Imma shank you"; Moiraine like the most dramatic bitch

OH DAMN (from context I assume this was the further reveal of Mat's tragic backstory)

So I'll talk more about this later, but the Mat backstory changes all made sense to me in terms of revealing up front what kind of person Mat is and what his motivations are. Immediately, you see Mat identifying with and also protecting children. And when Natti just straight-up savaged Mat with "you're just like your father, a prick", it's immediately providing groundwork for Mat's complicated feelings towards older and/or powerful women. In the books, one of Mat's whole shticks is that he does a lot of self-destructive things to prove to women in power that a) he doesn't care what they think about his choices and b) he will save them from themselves. The books have the leisure to do this slowly and subtly, but ultimately the root causes are the same: Mat chafes against other's expectations and yet also desperately wants their approval, and Mat has suffered trauma at the hands of women and those with power over him.

The show is gonna make me ship Egg/Rand

The show is giving the people what they want, and what they want is beefcake, god bless

None of the ta'veren are virgins and I respect that

"Eeeey it's Voldy" (myrddraal)

Padan Fain looks so fun!

Re: the earlier Wisdom who got sent away from the White Tower... tbh, especially with the emphasis on how much time passed before the Wisdom came back (she walked for months, really?) I suspect Nyneave got an edited version of that story from said Wisdom. It seems much more likely that she was either too weak in the Power to make it as Aes Sedai and they sent her away, or she got kicked out for something else, or some other thing where she did actually spend time in the Tower before going back. It's possible that the White Tower is corrupt in the classist way Nyneave relates, but I'm still holding onto the idea that the WT is corrupt in an ableist academia way. We'll see.

I have thoughts on Mat, master of petty theft, but I will save them for my Mat post!

Have I mentioned that the landscapes are gorgeous?

THE WIIIIIIIIND THE WIND IS HERE IN THE OPENING EPISODE OF THE FIRST SHOW

Oh geez. Dragon's fang of mutton.

Mat will never take your charity! ...without deep embarrassment

"All we can do is the best we can w/ the life that's been given to us" -Tam

Rituals! Tiny lights in the darkness!

"HEARTBREAK" VO as the camera pans to Mat, beautiful

Me: "Ok, but are they really wrong about single dad Mat?"

What is up with Laila? She's got depression vibes.

SHAKY CAM

Nyneave REVERSE YEET

Love how Mat's like "...no alternatives I guess, it's heroism time"

If you kill Mat's sisters we riot at dawn

Padan Fain like "Oh, that's my cue!" as a Trolloc smashes someone

I LOVE NYNEAVE

Dope! Music!

Tam looks too much like Robert Jordan and it's wigging me out

DANCE TIME (I think this is Moiraine and Lan btw)

Deeply respect these ladies [who are stabbing a trolloc with pitchforks]

Me, knowing some things and watching Perrin and Laila smash trollocs together: It was nice knowing you Laila. Big respect

Ok saidar looks dope

Oh NOT THE BRAID HOW DARE

[Deeply surprised noises when Perrin is the one who kills Laila in a battle frenzy] *pause* "Well, ok, now I get why you did it that way."

Moiraine got shanked. (Not by Nyneave)

Damn, girl. Moiraine "Massive Property Damage" Damodred, they call her

Inns on fire count: 1

Mat just wants mommy to love him

White eyes as foretelling vibes?

Moiraine is so pretty when she laughs

Yay Nyn can still track them if she's not leaving with them :)

Perrin looks fucking gutted :(

You're gonna make me ship Rand/Egwene and I don't need that energy in my life! Egg should only like fuckbois

The Four Ta'veren: Single DILF, Friendly Fire, Ex-Boyfriend, Journey (song) Protagonist

[bruhstories]

I Swear It

Summary: He didn't hate you — you just happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Pairing: Reiner Braun x Fem!Reader Warnings & Content: language, slightly ooc!Reiner in the beginning (I think), unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), so much angst, slight dubcon. Word Count: 1.8 k

A/N: What’s this, two one-shots in a day? Best not get greedy lmao, but this is the saddest piece I’ve written so far. I’m gonna have to give Reiner some good things in the future.

Reiner was done. He was so sick and tired of the fighting, the war, the discrimination. He didn't want his little cousin to inherit the Armoured Titan, but he didn't want Falco to have it either. He hadn't slept in days — whenever he closed his eyes the faces of the people he'd killed popped in his mind, giving him terrifying nightmares. He could blow his brains out, the appeal of suicide enticing him like a mirage in a desert. But then there was you, the kindest woman he'd ever met and the best doctor in Marley. You treated him with so much compassion that his mind thought you were playing disgusting psychological tricks on him. You weren't an Eldian, yet you treated Eldians with respect. You were the only person, aside from his family, who anchored Reiner back into reality, and the only reason he didn't end it all was because he wanted to see your radiating smile again.

When Marley took Fort Slava, you were there, patching up soldiers, good as new, your Y/H/C clipped back, dirt, sweat and blood on your beautiful face. When the army returned to Marley, you were there, carrying soldiers with other nurses, managing the hospital and taking care of the injured. Reiner took lives, like an angel of death, while you fixed the unfixable, like an angel of life. But you happened to walk in on the titan shifter at the worst possible time, gun in his mouth, tears on his cheeks, dishevelled and broken. Instead of your usual smile, he was greeted by shock and anxiety and he dropped the gun, arms hanging by his sides, eyes exhausted. You closed the door behind you and brought a chair from the corner of the room, no words spoken until you sat down in front of him.

"Give me the gun, Reiner." You urged him, voice meek but demanding.

"No." Traces of anger in his voice, you extended your hand, palm facing upwards.

"Please, just give me the gun and we can talk-"

"Talk?" The man mocked you, fingers tracing the barrel. "When did that ever help?"

"It does help if you give it a chance." You tried but he wouldn't listen. Head tilted slightly to his left side, he pointed the gun at you.

"They don't have guns on Paradis."

"R-really?" You stuttered, eyes glued to the gun, heart almost beating out of your chest. "What do they have there?"

"Families. Children. Loved ones." Reiner scoffed. "And lots of corpses. All because of me."

"It's not because of you-"

"Are you sure, Y/N?" He lunged at you, pressing the gun into your temple. "You weren't there to see it, to hear their screams of terror." The man walked behind you and you heard the key click in the door, the hairs at the back of your head standing up.

"That's why you need to talk about it." You tried again, too afraid to turn around.

"Why, so you can tell your superiors?" Reiner propped the gun at the back of your head. Panic instilled in you and you let the tears you've been holding back to roll down your face.

"So you can let it all out." You told him between sobs.

"Let it out, huh? No, Y/N, talking's not gonna help." And then you heard it — the zipper of his beige uniform trousers coming undone. "Take your shirt off."

"Reiner..." But the gun pressed harder.

"I said take your fucking shirt off."

You didn't have much of a choice and your trembling hands moved to the first button of your white shirt. Reiner walked back to the chair, gun still pointed at you.

"You don't have to do this-"

"Why did you have to be a Marleyan?" He cut you off and your eyes found his, confused at the question. "Better yet, why did I have to fall in love with the wrong person?" The second question caught you severely off guard, but you saw an opportunity when he lowered the gun, his grip around the handle loosening. You propped your hands on the chair and with all your gathered strength, you kicked the gun out of his hand, the weapon sliding under the hospital bed. You both stared at each other in confusion for a good second before you both dashed to grab the gun, your thinner arm reaching the weapon quicker.

"One missed shot and every man you saved dies." Reiner threatened as you aimed the gun at his head, your shirt unbuttoned, allowing him to see your exposed bra.

"Take your shirt off, Reiner."

"What?"

"You heard me." You lowered the weapon, pointing it at his chest. "You were right." You watched him like a hawk, brow quirked at his perfectly sculpted torso. "Talking isn't going to help." You threw the gun on the bed and leaped into his arms, pulling him into a ravaging kiss, careful not to draw any blood from the way you bit his lower lip.

"Why?" Reiner asked, pushing you onto the bed, fingers digging into your shoulders.

"Why what?" You asked back, fumbling with the belt.

"Why didn't you just leave? You had the upper hand." He sank his head into the curve of your neck, hungry kisses tingling your skin.

"Because," two fingers gently pushed his chin upwards and you looked him in the eye, "I also fell in love with the wrong person."

"Y/N, I'm so sorry... I don't know what's gotten into me."

"Hey, hey, it's alright." You looped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a comforting embrace. "You're a warrior, Reiner. I've seen exactly what this war is doing to people, good people." Your chin rested on his shoulder, your hand gently caressing his back. "But please, promise me you'll never point a gun at yourself. Promise you'll talk to me."

"I swear it." He pulled back from your arms and kissed your forehead. Your hands moved from his shoulders, down his abdomen and stopped at his bulge. "Can I... can I make love to you?"

"Yes."

Reiner's hand tugged at your bra, pulling it down slightly, enough for your breasts to bounce out of it. He took one of your nipples in his mouth and you threw your head back, your fingers trying desperately to unclasp the stupid belt. He laughed at your struggle, the sounds vibrating against your skin, and undid it himself, his trousers and underwear pooling at his knees. You lifted your skirt up and spread your legs, offering Reiner the view he'd so strongly desired. His eyes darted at the wet spot on your white panties and hunger filled his gaze. You pulled the undergarments off of you as he pressed gentle kisses on your knees.

"You're so beautiful, Y/N. I'll never understand why you chose to fall in love with me." The man's hand snaked around your thigh, his other palming your wet folds.

"I can't choose who to fall in love with, Reiner, but if I could, it would still be you." You smiled, your lips quickly turning into an O as he gently pushed one finger into your cunt. You didn't know how much your words meant to him, how they fought with his desire to die. Another finger and you flexed your muscles, hands gripping the sheets on the bed.

"Fuck, you're so wet." Reiner marvelled your spasms. You were definitely not his first woman, you'd sometimes spot him at brothels as sorrow filled your soul, but you were definitely the first woman he loved.

"Please..." You whimpered and he shot up, worried he'd hurt you. "Please make love to me, Reiner..." You begged him, eyelids drooping and thirst in your voice. His cheeks flushed crimson, albeit being used to prostitutes asking him to fuck them, but they weren't you. They never were. He positioned himself between your supple thighs, cock hard and eager to thrust into you. Reiner looked at you, as if waiting for approval, and you nodded, your hands gripping his muscular arms. He pushed the tip first and stopped as your walls stretched and adjusted to the girth, then thrusted some more. The expression plastered on your face encouraged him not to stop and he found a pace comfortable for both of you. His hands were propped onto the bed, your head between them and you looked him in his amber eyes. They didn't do a good job at hiding the pain and trauma he's been through, but it showed to you that he was only human. Not the spear and shield of Marley, not the Armoured Titan, but Reiner Braun, the man whose wounds you treated, the man you grew close to, the man you missed, the man you loved.

"Shit, you're so tight." He whispered in your ear and you wrapped your legs around his waist, telling him to go faster. You weren't a virgin by any means. In fact, you tried being in a relationship with a Marleyan while he was gone to Paradis Island, but you couldn't keep up with the charade and broke it off in less than two months. His thrusts made you realise who you truly belonged to, and it was none other than him.

"Reiner, I–"

"Love you." The man admitted as you came undone all over his cock, your fingers digging deeper into his arms. He stopped thrusting, instead he held you close to his chest. You felt his beating heart and tears formed at the corners of your eyes, knowing that your love was meant to be kept a secret.

"I love you, too." You told him, your forehead resting on his collarbone. None of you dared to move, afraid that the only moment of peace you both had in a very long time might end. Your head pushed harder into his chest, forcing Reiner to lean on his back as you removed yourself from his cock. You moved backwards on all fours, hovering over his member, tears falling on his naked body.

"What are you doing, Y/N?"

"I wish we could have a family together." You told him before taking him into your mouth. His head tilted to the side, realising that you made a smart choice by finishing him off with your mouth. Had he spilled his seed into you, you'd both be dead. Reiner's breath hitched as your head bobbed up and down faster, faster. The hot liquid tickled your throat and you swallowed every last drop, not wanting to risk anything.

"This isn't going to end well..." The man sighed.

"I know."

He leaned forward and embraced you, his touch needy yet grateful. You returned the embrace, quietly sobbing into his arms.

"I want you to know that I'll always love you." Reiner stated, and it felt like a promise.

"Please, come back to me. Whatever happens, come back to me, Reiner Braun."

"I swear it."

[consumeconstantly]

Summer Photography (aka the thirst trap)

Summary: Marinette is forced to take pictures for Gabriel in order to pay for her summer graduation trip with her best friends from lycee. Adrien, her primary model, wants to avoid the summer heat and pulls in one very attractive bad-boy motorcycle man to be his replacement.

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July in Gotham comes with an almost rancid kind of heat.

The kind of heat that is impossible to banish unless the air conditioning is set to 65 degrees and there’s a dehumidifier in the room. The kind of heat that makes babies cry with discomfort and adults curse whenever they have to take a foot outside. The only age population that enjoys it are the teens. More precisely, the teens are more fans of being on summer vacation, rather than the sticky warmth, but they find ways to work with the heat, rather than against it. Some teens gather on apartment rooftops, taking in the rare, smoggy breeze with pleasure. Others frequent their local swimming pool, an ice cream parlor or convenience store. If they get really desperate, they take shelter in the library.

Should a teen be forced out onto the muggy sidewalks full of sweaty bodies, they drift towards parks or areas of ‘city beautification’ and find a tree to rest their weary bodies under. 

Of course, there are always exceptions to these norms. 

“Marinette,” Adrien groans, sweat on his brow. “Can we please do this not during peak heat?”

“No,” Marinette says. “Your father insisted on having pictures of a male model at precisely two in the afternoon, and it took me months to convince him to let us come on this trip, so we’re not going to do anything to jeopardize it.”

“It’s not like he can do anything now. We’re literally an ocean away.”

“Suck it up, sunshine,” Marinette swats her hand at a lazy fly, not bothering to look up from changing the lens on her camera. “Maybe I’d let you get away with a substitution. Gabriel didn’t specify that the person in the pictures had to be you, but we don’t know anyone in Gotham, and everyone we’ve come across so far isn’t exactly the friendly sort.”

Adrien flicks the collar of his t-shirt, desperately trying to generate some sort of a breeze so he doesn’t melt. “This is all Nino’s fault. He and Alya insisted on going to that couple’s show when he could have been out here, taking my place. If Luka were here, he wouldn’t have deserted me like that.”

“We all know of your and Luka’s undying love for one another, but he is busy touring. He’ll meet up with us in New York, though, and you can have your disgustingly sweet love-fest over there. Meanwhile, I’ll be forever alone.”

“Don’t put yourself down like that, Marinette. At least five people in each city we’ve gone to so far have tried to go on dates with you.”

She crinkles her nose and does a test shot, making sure the light setting works out. “Yeah, but they all reeked of desperation and alcohol. Plus, at least two of them were just looking for a person to cheat with.”

“No good,” Marinette says, frowning at the shadows the tree cast. “Gabriel won’t be happy with these kinds of photos. You’re going to have to move out of the shade.”

“No!” Adrien wails. “I refuse! It’s bad enough that you dragged me out here, but to make me go in the sun? You know I burn easily.”

“Yeah, yeah drama queen, but these photos aren’t going to take themselves, and I’m one hundred percent sure that you don’t want to have to do this twice. Which is what we’ll end up having to do if you don’t get your little butt out into the sun so we can take quality shots.”

Adrien whines before a motorcycle revs in the not so far distance. A very Chat Noir smile creeps onto his face. “I don’t think I will. I’ve just found my substitute.”

Marinette follows his gaze, then shrugs. “If you think you can convince him to substitute in, you’re free to go. But remember, it’s Gotham, and if you get jumped, I’m not going to help. It’s too hot for a fight.”

“You underestimate my charm.” Adrien says, already triumphant.

#

True to form, Adrien somehow manages to get motorcycle man over to her. 

“Not sure how Adrien convinced you to do this, but I guess he gets a free pass.” Marinette knows exactly what Adrien’s going to do with his free time. He’s gone on and on about Gotham’s Museum of Vigilantes, and to be quite frank, Marinette doesn’t want to get caught up in another one of Adrien’s rant sessions on the Bat Family. “Anyways, nice to meet you. I’m Marinette, and my awful boss has come of with the wonderfully creative idea of Summer Heat for a photoshoot in the summer.”

She has a bone to pick with Gabriel Agreste. More than one, actually. In fact, she’d say that out of the 206 (well, 207, if she counts the fracture she got in her left pinky toe after that last akuma battle that weirdly, still hasn’t healed) bones in her body, she’d pick a fight with Gabriel over at least 200 of them. The lack of originality is one thing, but she’s not sure how she feels about his blatant attempts to set her up with her son during this trip. Somehow, he still hasn’t grasped the fact that his son doesn’t swing her way despite having hundreds of pictures of being lovey-dovey with Luka all over the internet. In fact, maybe it’s because Adrien and Luka have that many pictures that Gabriel is trying to push for a heterosexual relationship. A lack of vision both for his photo shoots and for his company. Marinette doesn’t understand how she once looked up to this man.

“It’s no problem. I’ve got nothing better to do, anyways.” 

Marinette blinks, then reassesses the man in front of her. Not only does he have a sinfully attractive voice, but his visual appeal isn’t that bad, either. “It’s still nice of you to do this. Should be a pretty quick shoot. Five outfit changes and a few poses in each-- shouldn’t take any longer than an hour, hour and a half.”

She rummages through her bag, fishing out a stack of paper. “You’ll get paid for your time. $250 for the whole shoot, and if you want to keep one of the outfits, feel free.”

If she’s being completely honest, she thinks that Gabriel’s summer collection is a hot mess, and she doesn’t particularly want the burden of bringing back the disgusting articles of clothes back with her in her suitcase. Should motorcycle man not want any of them, she’ll send them back via express mail.

“Don’t need the money, but I’m trying to stay out for as long as I can. Any way you could make the shoot go on longer?”

“You want to stay out in this heat?” Marinette asks in disbelief, taking out a small bag of makeup to apply to his face. She motions for him to sit in the shade of the tree while she sees what she needs to cover up. 

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Motorcycle man says.

“Like the owner of a custom Harley-Davidson is poor,” Marinette quips. Humming in approval after giving his features once over, she decides that foundation isn’t necessary, only concealer to cover up the dark circles and some old scars.“You have great skin.”

During their summer trip, Marinette has become makeup artist, photographer, public relations manager, and trip advisor. It’s a taxing job, but well worth the reward, which is an all-expense-paid graduation trip with her friends from lycee. Well, Nino and Alya had to pay, but between Nino’s part time DJ gigs and Alya’s ad revenue on the Ladyblog, it wasn’t hard for them to raise enough for the two month long, seven city, four country trip. 

“One of my siblings is insistent that we do our best to minimize the scarring. Don’t know what his deal is, it’s not like our faces are sellable commodities.”

“That’s where you’re wrong-- you’re pretty good looking and could easily go into modelling or acting if you wanted. So props to whoever your sibling is. And thank your genetics too.”

Motorcycle man snorts. “Not cut out for that lifestyle. I like more… adrenaline inducing jobs.”

Marinette almost-- almost laughs. The placement of the scars on his face do imply that he’s gotten in at least one or two knife fights before, and there’s a thin line on his neck that definitely looks like it hurt. Motorcycle man has definitely been in trouble before, but he’s also good enough to get himself out of it. She’s not going to bother asking what his job is. She doesn’t want to be an accessory to any of his crimes. “Action movies, then?” 

“Oh sweetheart, I make action movies look like a kid’s fist fight.”

“Wow, we have a bad boy on our hands, ladies and gentleman.” She finishes applying highlighter and sits back to admire her work. His jaw can cut glass. “Okay, Motorcycle Man, it’s time to take pictures. If you’re good, maybe I’ll draw the shoot out-- I’m not a fan of this humidity.”

Summer is better than winter, if only because she’s acquired a weird habit to almost hibernate when the temperature gets too cold. It’s easy for Marinette to shrug off the heat most days, even when her friends complain constantly.

“The name’s Jason.”

“I think I’ll stick with Motorcycle Man. Alliteration, you know? Now, one hand in your pocket, the other at your collar. Left leg out a little, like you’re ready to take a step-- perfect. Walk forwards a little, yeah, just like that.”

Jason is Adonis personified. The perfect package of cocky, arrogant, and bad boy. It doesn’t hurt that he’s well muscled either-- even Adrien doesn’t have thighs like that, and he spends hours as Chat Noir jumping from rooftop to rooftop. 

“You’re a natural,” Marinette praises. “Have you ever modeled before?”

“Not like this, but I’ve got my fair share of pictures on the internet.”

She’s going to regret asking this. But curiosity killed the cat, not the ladybug. “If not for modelling, then what for?”

“Oh, you know. This and that. A few odd jobs here and there.”

And if that doesn’t make Jason sound more like a criminal, she doesn’t know what will. Marinette decides that she definitely won’t bring up a day job, let alone a night job. 

“All right, next outfit.” She pushes a muscle tank top and light, ripped jeans into his hands.  “You can change in the public restroom, and if anything doesn’t fit, just let me know.”

He takes the outfit, but pauses at one of the other outfits she has in her bag. “Is that… leather and fur? For a shoot with the theme of summer heat?”

“I don’t call the shots, I’m just the poor lackey who has to make them look good. Trust me, if I were in charge of design, the only outfit that might still be in the bag is the one you’re holding right now.” Gabriel is definitely losing his touch. But hey, doing this weird intern summer program for him isn’t the worst thing she’s had to do in her life. It’s good to learn from other people’s mistakes, rather than making them herself. 

“Don’t worry. Crappy fashion isn’t going to scare me away. Have you seen some of Gotham’s villains?”

At that, she couldn’t suppress a laugh. “You’re talking Gotham villains? How about Paris?”

“Paris is some weird alternate dimension. It doesn’t count,” Jason protests. 

“I could say the same for Gotham. Really, why are there so many Robins? Can’t they come up with another name?”

“I almost wish I could argue with that.”

He comes out of the stall, and Marinette feels the summer heat. Jason, Motorcycle Man is ripped. Yeah, his thighs are probably some of the thickest she’s seen, but his biceps are to die for. She’s half tempted to ask for his workout regime, but she’s sure that somewhere he’ll casually throw in ‘beating up random people on the street’ or ‘punching people who piss him off.’ Those are just the kind of vibes that Jason gives off. 

“The arm holes are kinda tight.”

“I’m sure they are,” Marinette breathes, chest tight. Jason’s eyes smoulder. He knows exactly what he’s doing as he places an arm on the door frame and flexes. She thinks she can die happy, now.

They wrap up the shoot quickly. All of the clothes are promptly packaged up except for the tanktop and jeans.  

@jasonette-july-2k20

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For the other jasonette prompts i’ve written for so far, i think i’ll probably continue them eventually, so lmk if you want to be added to the tag list for that. pretty surprised these are getting such a good reception thank you guys for that ;)

[nicolewoo]

Please Daddy Part 5

Pairing: Joe Anaoi X Reader (Roman Reigns X Reader)

Warning: Smut including fingering of a girl.

We were on our way to the club when I got a phone call from Ann. “This can’t be good.” I say as I press call button. “Is everything ok?”

Ann’s voice came through the car speakers. “Yes, but I need you to help liaison tonight.” Club meetings were very involved. First the doms and subs met separately to discuss any issues with the other group. The liaisons of the doms and subs met together before the entire club joined for a group meeting. “What’s going on? Why do you need me?” I asked.

Her timid voice answered. “I’d do it myself, but we are voting on a new member that I think is going to interest all the single subs. I’m hoping you can remind the subs of proper behavior with famous members.”

“Really?” My mind flashed back to when I met Henry. There were so many things to remember about protocol. How we had to handle being out in public. “Who are they voting in?”

Ann paused before answering. “Chris Evans.”

“You THINK every sub will be interested?” I said sarcastically.

Ann laughed at the joke, but the grunt that came from Joe wasn’t a laugh. He was displeased. Jealous maybe. I reached my hand over to rest it on his leg reassuringly. I’d have to be careful to let him know he’s the only man I want tonight.

“Since you’re not interested in him, you should be the one who goes over the behavior standards.” Joe perked up after hearing Ann as I breathed a sigh of relief. Ann had easily picked up on Joe’s jealousy and was able to defuse the situation by saying I wasn’t interested. Thank you Ann!!!

“Oh. Sure. I’ll do it.” I volunteered.

___________________________________________________________________

Ann and I stood in front of the subs. Most were female, but we did have a smattering of male subs too. There was a buzz in the air as word of Chris Evans permeated the meeting room. “Calm down everyone.” Ann yelled above the din.

“Is it true?” Kelly yelled above the noise and captured everyone’s attention, the crowd prodding us along to try and get the truth.

I motioned for Ann to sit. I knew she didn’t like public speaking, and I knew that was why she wanted me here. “Everyone sit please.” I said as I took my spot at the podium. The room quieted quickly. “Yes. Chris Evans is here and has asked to join our club. Yes. He looks better in person than he does on the big screen.” I hadn’t even finished my sentences before the whole room broke out into chaos again. Words like “mine” and “dibs” were volleyed about the room. There was also a commotion about if he was straight, gay or bi or something else.  “Subs, the faster we get through this, the faster you all can meet him, but first…..” The subs began to compose themselves again. “First we need to go over some standards for our behaviors.”

Now that I had everyone’s attention, it was time. “It’s been a long while since we’ve had a star of Chris’ magnitude join.” I heard someone mention Henry. “Here’s what you’ll need to remember. First and foremost, he is human. He has wants and desires like the rest of us, but don’t confuse him with the characters he plays in movies. Chris has a reputation for being an upstanding, kind and generous man. This is his PUBLIC persona. In truth, we know nothing about his preferences yet. I’m sure at least one of you will get to find out soon. For all we know, he could be the cruelest dom in the building, so tread lightly. Get to know him before jumping into signing a contract with him.

Second, give him room! I’m certain a lot of you want an opportunity to play with him, but desperation doesn’t look good on anyone. Let Chris approach you. Those of us who are in relationships will assist with introductions where possible.”

The room erupted again. “Attention!” I yelled over the noise, and the room quieted again. “Next, if you and Chris do end up together, there are complications you need to be aware of. He may or may not want your relationship to be public. If so, you’ll be criticized by his fans, and it will be relentless.” I looked to Ann who cringed at the thought of some of the press she got.

“Everyone needs to remember our #1 rule. Discretion! Just as this club is a safe haven for each of us, it needs to be Mr. Evan’s safe haven too.” There were verbal agreements all through the room. As the meeting went on, I was able to get the subs subdued a bit, but there was a palpable energy about the club for sure.  

We arrived at the dom meeting room just as their meeting was breaking up. Henry quickly found Ann and glued himself to her side, but Joe was deep in conversation across the room.

“Have the subs seen Chris yet?” Henry asked.

I chortled, “I think it’s safe to say he’s going to have his choice of the available subs.”

Ann laughed, “We had trouble keeping them calm enough to have the meeting.”

“That’s good to hear.” I turned to find Mr. Evans walking up to us. To me actually. His eyes raked over me like I was prey and he was stalking. “So, when you say I can have my pick of ANY sub...” he sidled up next to me.

Something about his body language must have alerted Joe because he quickly ended his conversation and was storming to me. “You’re very sweet, but I meant the single subs.” Seeing Joe approaching me angry, Henry turned to see why, and I watched as Henry read Chris’ body language too.

Realizing his mistake, Chris started apologizing immediately. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see a cuff...”

Hen interjected. “My bad. I forgot to tell him.” He said it as much to the approaching Joe as to me. “No cuffs here, mate.” He patted Chris’ shoulder. “We don’t use cuffs here. We use necklaces instead.” My hand shot to my necklace a beautiful ruby surrounded by diamonds.

Joe arrived now, pushing between Chris and I and wrapping his arms around me. I could tell by the look on his face that he was irate. “Daddy,” I whispered to try to sooth him.

“I’m so sorry,” Chris held his hands up. “My apologies.”

Joe grumbled and looked down at me. “Are you ok, baby girl?

“I’m perfectly fine.” I said as I leaned into Joe. “Just a misunderstanding.” I was still trying to sooth Joe’s anger.

“I’m so sorry.” Chris dropped his head in a perfectly rehearsed beg for forgiveness. “I didn’t know.”

“Really, it was my fault.” Henry interrupted Chris.

I needed to defuse the situation quickly, but I wasn’t sure how. My brain raced as I tried to figure what might sooth Joe. Blow job face? Yeah… that should do it. I kept my head down and peered my eyes up at Joe with the same look I always gave him when I blew him. In theory, that should distract him. He paused a moment looking at me. He couldn’t help but smile at my obvious ploy to calm him. “No worries.” He extended a hand to Chris. “Just a misunderstanding.” He grabbed my chin and kissed me, like he was marking his territory.

 “I want to thank you.” I told Ann as we relaxed with our friends.

She looked puzzled. “What did I do?”

“Earlier… in the car…” I prodded.

She reached her hand out to pat my hand and smiled big. “I figured Joe was the jealous type.” She winked at me. “Plus, I didn’t say anything that isn’t true. You really don’t like Mr. Evans.”

“I didn’t say that.” I grinned and the women around me laughed.

Ann turned to see our men sitting across the room playing cards. Following her gaze, I turned to see them too. My eyes locked with Joe’s, and a sinful grin lit up his face. “There’s only 1 man for you right now, and even Chris Evans can’t mess that up.” Everyone laughed. Everyone except me. Joe’s gaze burned through me and my body reacted.

“Do you need to go?” Stephanie asked me, turning my attention back to our friends.

Honestly, I wasn’t sure what Joe wanted, but just as I began to wonder, he nodded at me as if to say Go on. Have fun, and he focused his attention back on his friends. “No. I’ve got time.” I said with my eyes still locked on Joe.

We stayed for a couple of hours catching up. It wasn’t uncommon after meetings for the doms to keep to themselves and the subs keep to ourselves, but before too long, Henry and Chris made their way over to our group. It didn’t escape my notice that Joe immediately headed my way, almost catching up to Henry and Chris.

As the gentlemen neared, Ben, one of the subs, let out a low grumble of approval followed by “I hope he’s bi.”

As the group of doms approached us, I mused at how ALL of the subs quieted down as if we were all under their spell. Joe’s arm quickly wrapped around my waist as he approached me….. claimed me… marked his territory, and in truth, I was thrilled at his possessiveness. More than a few of the subs looked jealously at me with the giant Samoan. He placed a gentle kiss to my forehead and leaned in to whisper in my ear. “Are you having fun?” The sultry tone of his voice immediately turned me on. I took a deep breath in before answering yes. “Do you want to stay here or go home?”

Dammit! He knew what his soft whisper in my ear was doing to me. He’d already begun the scene and we weren’t even alone, but as he towered over me possessively and protectively, I relaxed into his presence and realized it was time to go home even though it was early.

“Henry, Chris.” Joe shook their hands. “It’s time for us to go home.” He kissed my temple as if he was rubbing it in that we were together. Rubbing it in to who though? The dozen or so subs that sat around us? To Henry or Chris? It honestly didn’t matter. If daddy said it’s time then it’s time.

We made our excuses and went to Joe’s car in the parking garage attached to the club. I neared the passenger side door waiting for him to open it as usual. Instead, he reached out putting his hands on the car trapping me between them. “Mine!” he growled as he buried his face in my neck, trailing soft kisses over the hot skin. “Mine.”

“Yours!” I sighed as he continued his seduction on me. He moved an arm long enough to brush my hair off my shoulder to get better access to my neck. My hands clawed at his back as he drove me mad with his teasing.

“Mine!” He looked down at me, locking my stare with his. “Remember that.” His tone was half desperation.

“Yours.” I said sweetly now. “Only yours.” The words seemed to calm him a bit, and he opened the car door allowing me to climb inside before closing the door behind me and coming around the car to the driver’s side.

Once we were on the road, Joe placed his huge, warm hand on my knee, his thumb lazily drawing circles for a minute before he slid his hand up to the hem of my dress. “Pull it up,” he commanded and I quickly did. “Underwear off,” was his next command.

Sliding the silky material down, I held the scant cloth up for him to see. He quickly grabbed it from my hands and tucked it into his pocket. “Mine!” He joked.

I intended to laugh, but his hand shot straight to my pussy, gently running a finger over my slit. When the skin parted and his finger found my moisture, he smiled wide. “Ready for me already?” I felt a little embarrassed at how quickly my body responded to him, so I kept quiet. “Good girl.” He said as he slid his finger up to my clit.

Instantly, he started circling it gently. Damn! He knew exactly how to touch me. In seconds I was already moaning in pleasure. Just when I thought I’d explode from his attention on my clit, he slid a finger inside.

This couldn’t have been safe. He split his attention between driving and getting me off, and as he leaned forward to get a better position to slide 2 fingers deep inside me, I fretted for a second but the pleasure his fingers gave me quelled my fears. Trust him… the first rule.

Closing my eyes and leaning my head against the seat, I surrendered to him.  The bite of the cold winter night nipped at the edges of my consciousness, but the only thing I could focus on was his fingers. They slid in, filling me, out and slid over my clit. In filling me, out sliding over my clit…. It was a beautiful torture.

He built me up until I begged him to stop. “Daddy, please.”

“Please what?” He tried to sound innocent.

I growled in frustration. “Daddy, Stop the car. Pull over… do something. I need to cum.” I whined needily next to him as my hips bucked up to meet his hand.

“Soon baby girl. We’re just a couple of blocks away.” He chuckled. “You can make it.” He teased as he turned onto his street.

I rolled my head back and forth as my hips greedily bucked up toward his hand again. “No. Now, daddy. Please now!”

He quickly removed his fingers, resting them on my leg. Without even taking his eyes off the road he growled out, “Don’t you DARE tell daddy what to do and when to do it.” He acted mad, but when I peeked over at him, he had a devilish smirk on his face.

“I’m sorry daddy.” I hadn’t realized how bratty I was being, but seeing his smirk, I realized he was thoroughly amused. Ok. I can play brat tonight. “I just need to cum.” I sulked in my seat.

He laughed low. “You NEED what I say you need.” His amused tone of voice calmed my overheated body a bit. He pulled into his garage now, coming around to open my door as I pulled my skirt down to cover myself.

Opening the car door, he offered me his hand, and when I stood, I was wedged between the car and him. His presence was overpowering. “Come. Let me show you what you need.” He said.

@mindofasagitarius   @lclb13 @serenityfiretrash @lustyromantic @reigns-5sos @bigpsychicbagelauthor @omg-im-such-a-masochist

[chocoluckchipz]

A Soulmate for Christmas - 3

< Previous

"Dupain-Cheng. We need to talk."

Marinette stopped breathing, sinking deeper under the desk. 

Chloe groaned and took a few steps away. "Don't make me get down there and drag you out. And next time, make sure you aren't hiding right in front of a mirror. Be thankful I didn't out you to Adrien."

Marinette glared at her reflection peeking out from a corner of the mostly covered mirror she’d failed to notice. 

"I suppose you want my gratitude for your generosity?" she huffed, climbing out of her hiding spot to face her old nemesis.

"I’ll do without, but let’s make one thing clear—I did it for Adrien, not you."

"Oh really? I fail to see how this benefits him since, you know, he wanted to find me."

Chloe smirked and looked Kagami’s way. Marinette followed her gaze, only now noticing how intently Kagami was watching her. 

"So, this is her?"

"Unfortunately."

Matching smirks on their lips, Kagami’s eyes held restrained curiosity. Chloe’s? Disbelief. 

Marinette could feel the weight of their judgement increase with each passing second. She scoffed. This crap was tiring to deal with back in the lycée. Now it wasn’t even worth the fight. "Listen, I doubt either of you want me to come in and mess up whatever thing you three have going on, so how about you tell Adrien you mistook me for someone else, the waitress he spoke to was not Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and we all walk our separate ways?"

Kagami folded her arms over her chest, arching an eyebrow. "What about Adrien?"

"What about him?"

"He’s your soulmate."

"He’s engaged to you."

"Did you hear anything we said here?"

"Didn’t have much of a choice."

"Then, you’re aware that we’re faking it. There is nothing but friendship between us."

"So I’ve heard."

"And you still want to walk away?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"She’s always been weird," Chloe snipped. "Adrien deserves better."

Marinette scoffed. "No one deserves a soulmate who humiliates them in front of the whole country."

"You can’t really pick your soulmate, you know," Kagami said. 

"But I can walk away from one who respects neither me nor our bond. Fake or not, he chose to be with you. I’m not going to interfere. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back work." 

Kagami grabbed Marinette’s hand before she could take a step. "You don’t understand. It’s not something he’s doing because he doesn’t respect or want you. Adrien’s practically saving my life with this, risking everything he ever wanted to do so."

Marinette almost laughed. "How is fake dating saving your life, Mlle Tsurugi? Fake dating is for fiction, a good book for a lonely evening or a movie to laugh with friends about. In the real world, in our modern society, it's irrelevant. And especially for someone as powerful and influential as you. You don't need to fake date. You can just say a word and all your problems will float away."

Kagami’s grip on Marinette’s hand tightened as she seethed through her teeth. "You have no idea what you’re talking about."

"Oh, don’t I? I’ve spent enough years in the same class with Chloe to see how people in your circle solve their problems."

"You shouldn’t put everyone in the same basket." Chloe stepped in, wrapping her arm around Kagami’s shoulder. She leaned closer to Kagami, their cheeks starting to glow at the contact, Kagami’s with a bee mark, Chloe’s with a dragon. 

To say Marinette was surprised was an understatement. 

"Just because we live in different circles doesn’t mean our lives are easy or that our problems always go away with a snap of our fingers," Chloe continued. "If you want to think of me like that, fine. Whatever. But not Adrien and certainly not Kagami." 

"I still fail to see the reason why someone would need to fake date." 

Before Chloe could start talking, Kagami cut her off with a wave of her hand. "Marinette, would you mind hearing me out? If you still want to walk away after what I have to tell you, neither of us will stop you."

Perhaps, this was the quickest way to get this over with. Maybe, she was curious herself as to what was going on between the three of them. Whatever it was, Marinette pulled up a chair, sat down and waited.

Kagami settled on a couch while Chloe leaned on its arm. "I was born and raised in Japan in a very conservative family where traditions were the law and whoever broke them was excommunicated forever. When I was fifteen, my mother and I moved to France, and I got to know the more liberal approach to life the French follow. I met Adrien through our parents’ business dealings. We became friends, and for the first time ever, someone could understand me, the life I was living, and the feelings I was suppressing. He wasn’t in any better of a situation at the time, but at least I was allowed to attend a private school. Adrien was kept locked inside his mansion. Later, I met Chloe and discovered the soulmate bond we shared. I was happy for the first time in my life. That is until my mother decided I had to marry one of her business partners’ sons for the sake of the family’s interests."

"A much older male," Chloe scoffed, scratching her nose. "Disgusting."

"Fifteen years older," Kagami confirmed. "And he lives in Japan which meant I would be forced to move back and lose not only my friends but also my soulmate. I would be expected to be an obedient, silent wife for the rest of my life, confined to looking after the house and birthing as many children as my husband wished."

"Ridiculous!" Chloe huffed. "Utterly ridiculous."

Kagami patted Chloe’s hand in a comforting gesture. "Perhaps if I’d never moved to France I would have gone along with her plans without complaining. However, after I had a taste of freedom and saw how happy I can be, I knew I couldn’t give up all of this. Give up Adrien and Chloe. Give up my dreams for the future. So, I panicked and said I was already secretly dating someone and didn’t tell her only because I wanted to make sure it was serious. Mother would’ve never agreed to let me stay if that person wasn’t from her list of approved potential spouses. A list made up of very influential and wealthy people. Adrien was one of them."

"He’s on the list of every Parisian mother." Chloe huffed. "Sucks to be him."

"I couldn’t say Chloe’s name," Kagami continued. "Mother isn't against same-sex relationships, but she considers them just ‘practice’ for the ‘real ones’ because, apparently,  I need a man as a life partner."

"As I said, ridiculous."

"So, I said Adrien’s name, then begged him to play along. We never thought it would get out of our circle. We even developed a plan for how to get me out unscathed and free. Adrien and I were supposed to only play a couple until my birthday in November when I became a legal adult by Japanese law. When that happened, I started transferring my funds to accounts my mother had no access to so I could walk away freely. But that takes time, and two weeks ago she found out and demanded an explanation for the transactions. She threatened to send me back to Japan immediately if she didn’t approve of what I had in mind. The transfers weren’t done yet and she had enough influence to stop it.

"I freaked out again and said Adrien and I were getting married, so I was gathering my personal funds into my own account that I planned to join with my husband’s after the wedding. I told her we were waiting for a special occasion to announce the engagement. She wasn’t buying it. She gave me a week to prove my words. She put a hold on all the transfers until then. It was Adrien who suggested we take it to the media. That way, she wouldn't doubt us, and she’d be somewhat pressured to let me stay in France, at least for the time being. Once the article was out, my mother released the funds, and as of last night, I’m a free woman.

"No one was ever going to announce an engagement. My things are being packed as we speak while my mother and I are out of the house. I won’t be going home with her. I’m moving in with Chloe, and, thanks to Adrien, I’m not doing so without a penny to my name. Adrien never meant to hurt you. He never looked any other woman's way. All he wanted was to help a friend." 

There wasn’t much Marinette could do but remain frozen in her seat, stunned at Kagami’s words. Her defences down, she hated to admit that everything Kagami had said made sense. There was a reason. A reason good enough to justify this whole thing. She couldn't hold this against Adrien. Heck, if any of Marinette’s friends were in Kagami’s shoes, she’d be fake proposing to them too. So, if everything that Kagami had told her was true, then…

"Marinette," Kagami spoke more gently, watching her with a lot less hostility. "For as long as I’ve known Adrien, every summer, every vacation he got, he was travelling to Milan, attending every fashion show and just wandering the streets in hopes of finding you. He painted over and publicly revealed his soulmate mark only because he’s desperate at this point. His father’s been pressuring him to date for publicity for years. He gave him a break when he thought we were a couple, but that ends tonight. And let me tell you, Gabriel Agreste is not the person to care for Adrien’s feelings and desires. He’ll make his life a living hell if Adrien continues to refuse to comply. Please, Marinette. Give him a chance. He deserves it."

"I’m giving him your number as a Christmas present tomorrow," Chloe spoke up. "You have until then to think about it. Let’s go, Kagami. It’s time to set Adrien free and show the world who your soulmate truly is."

"Right." Kagami stood up, giving Marinette one last glance. "The choice is yours, but you’d be a fool to walk away from a man like him. They don’t come as kind, loyal and loving as he is these days."

The door behind the pair closed, leaving only the sound of Marinette’s heart echoing in her ears. She could hardly move. If everything she’d just learned was true, she owed Adrien an apology and, if he wanted one, she owed him a chance. Because while she would definitely want a chance with the man Kagami had just described, she had to wonder if she deserved one at all. 

With a sigh, she stood up and headed back towards the kitchen. 

Later. She’d find him later. First, she had a job to finish and sweets to serve. The rest would have to wait. They’d waited for years. What would be another few hours?

Next >

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[time-and-souvenir]

Dazzled is an Understatement Part II

Summary: Curious about what happened to Victor and MC’s after the end of the Dazzling Date? A continuation from Victor’s POV. Part 2/3 of Dazzled is an Understatement. 

FYI: Some NSFW, spoilers for chp 10 and beyond, spoilers for Dazzling Date and as always I chose a random name for MC.

Wordcount: 3053 words.

Notes: It’s crazy to me that some of you wanted more of this fanfic? Lol! Dazzled was supposed to be a one shot but I decided to write a second part to it to wrap it up. THEN I wrote this and decided, you know what? I’m making this into THREE parts 😂❤️Thanks to everyone who suggested this, liked, commented and reblogged the first part of Dazzled is an Understatement! & thank you for being SO PATIENT, reading and supporting my writing ♥️ Part 3 is coming soon! I hope you guys like it❤️

“Yes, yes. I know Goldman. I am aware of that,” Victor replied in annoyance as he sifted through the progress reports of several projects LFG had planned in the coming week. He had spent many hours writing up the perfect proposal for this new company he was about acquire, it was an offer they wouldn’t be able to refuse. Working together with Goldman everything was moving very smoothly, until the company somehow started to get cold feet. For reasons he didn’t understand, and he wasn’t happy about it; the company knew who he was and what his company did, what in the world possessed them to do this?

“We could rework the offer and add in another department they might like, sir. I’ve been looking over their assets again and it would be very lucrative---“

“No. The offer I gave them was plenty, we don’t bend to someone that is inferior to our company, especially a company we are trying to acquire Goldman,” Victor responded, irritation lacing his tone. The more he kept discussing things over with his assistant, the more heated his blood became and not in a good way. Goldman changed tactics and suggested another way LFG could make things work and the ravenette listened intently. He clicked on his email, looking over the different graphics, information on the company’s growth and some articles of the company’s achievements that Goldman sent him. It was a decent size, but with proper funding, patience and the guidance of LFG it would succeed. A new plan started to form in his head.

“Here is what I want you to do Goldman,” Victor leaned back in his chair and started to rattle off what he needed his subordinate to do. Ten minutes later as their phone call started to wrap up, he felt much more confident with what was discussed. The ravenette had always gotten what he wanted, one way or another and this small little company was next. He stood up and stretched slightly, keeping his phone tucked into his shoulder so he could continue to hear Goldman. He walked over to his home office window, the sun setting in the distance. He had been working from his penthouse for a couple of days now, work had become…somewhat distracting.

“I need you to finish up that proposal within the hour, type it up and bring it over with the other data that we’ve discussed. I’ll give you the final approval so you can take it to their office tomorrow,” Victor paused, shutting his laptop closed and turning towards the door of his office. It had gotten rather late and he needed to make dinner. “If that’s all, I’ll see you----"

“Uh actually, sir?”

“Yes?”

“Miss Juliette has been insistent on trying to schedule an appointment with you. She’s been calling me nonstop for the last three days, almost demanding to talk or see you,” Goldman trailed off, sounding nervous. The CEO paused in the doorway of his home office, his breath almost catching. He closed his eyes and a sigh escaped his lips.

“Do she happen to mention what was so urgent?” He asked as he left the room, heading towards his gourmet kitchen.

“She said she needed to speak to you about something important but did not elaborate beyond that. I am sorry, sir. What would you like me to do?” His assistant asked, he didn’t sound nervous anymore instead is tone was curious.

“Do as I said before, write up the proposal and bring me that data in one hour, Goldman. That is all,” Victor snapped and hung up the phone, he set the device down on his kitchen island and ran a hand down his face in annoyance. He had been dodging Juliette’s calls for almost five days now, five days since their date and the night they had kissed. He swore he could still feel the heat from her mouth on his own and the warmth of her skin as they slept together in her bed. His cock twitched at the thought of her wrapped around him, suddenly remembering how soft and wet her mouth felt.

Groaning, the black-haired male shook his head and walked around the kitchen island, going to one of his cabinets and opening it. He took out his favorite glass and went to fetch a bottle of wine, on a mission to pick out one of his most expensive ones. With the way he had been feeling, he might end up drinking the entire bottle. Victor had no idea why he felt this way, not only had Juliette been his long-lost childhood love, they had somehow found their way back to one another and their relationship was starting to blossom. There was no reason to feel down or disappointed by anything, he had finally found her, and everything was falling into place. Then why did feel so horrid about it? He grabbed a bottle of wine from his collection and went back to the kitchen island, searching for a wine opener from one of its drawers. He found what he needed and made quick work of the bottle before pouring himself a glass.

Juliette had made the first move between them, she had initiated and kissed him. The CEO had been so worried to do anything at first, there was a lot that had happened between them and the years they spent apart stacked between them as well. Everything had been exactly like he wanted with Juliette and more, but he didn’t want to ruin it by pushing her into a direction she didn’t want to go into or wasn’t ready for. His little idiot was a strong and stubborn woman, but he had seen the fear and questioning in her eyes sometimes when they were together, so he decided to be careful. Besides, they had all the time together in the world, his evol made sure of that. Closing his eyes, he downed the glass of wine and poured himself another. He was in complete and utter misery. One, he had missed Juliette desperately. He missed talking to her and frankly he also felt anxious not talking to her. Something he would never admit aloud, but it was something that hovered over him like a cloud. Two, how in the world could he face her after the dream he had? Yes, they had kissed and touched on their date and fell asleep together but having that type of dream while she slept next to him was so mortifying.

Victor took a sip of his dream, letting his thoughts consume him for a few moments. He had been so happy she had kissed him first, it gave him the permission he needed that she wanted that from him. It was still hard for him to do anything, let alone truly touch her because he was afraid something would go wrong. It was as if he thought of her as some expensive artwork and if he hadn’t locked up and put that artwork something horrible would happen. Somehow the artwork would be ruined, or someone would try and steal it; but Juliette wasn’t artwork, no she was the precious little girl he had been desperately searching for years and years. She was real and in front of him, but he was so afraid to touch her, so afraid she would disappear.

Sighing, he downed the rest of his and set the wine glass down. Two glasses should be enough for now, he still needed to eat. Shaking his head, he walked over to the refrigerator and opened it. He scanned the different shelves, trying to come up with something quick but fulfilling, it wasn’t too late but still. Something heavy wouldn’t do. Suddenly, the sound of his doorbell went off and he blinked looking up. Victor shut the fridge and grabbed his phone off the kitchen island, it hadn’t been thirty minutes yet and Goldman had already finished and arrived? And he had a key, why in the world wasn’t he using it? All of a sudden feeling a bit annoyed, the CEO left his kitchen and walked towards the entrance of his home.

Once he got there, he paused and opened up his phone bringing up the old proposal for tor company LFG was soon to acquire from earlier. He unlocked and opened the door, stepping aside. “Goldman, I appreciate your quickness, but why aren’t you using your key?” He spoke without looking up from his phone.

“Maybe because I’m not Goldman, Victor.” A sweet, but irritated feminine voice rang out in front of him. The ravenette started to feel his pulse race a bit and he looked up from his phone, trying to hide the shock from his face. Juliette stood before him, her arms across her chest as her foot tapped ever so slightly on the floor. She was so tiny in comparison to him, yet she looked like she was ready to take him down at any moment. Blinking, he shook his head and ushered her inside, thankfully she didn’t put up a fuss as she entered his home. He swiftly closed the door, the sound of the lock filling up his foyer.

“One moment.” Victor looked at her and tried not to stare, but she shrugged and turned her back to him, making her way into his main living place.

Trying to snap out of his shock, he shook his head and dialed Goldman’s phone number. “Finish the proposal, recheck the data and have everything ready to be discussed tomorrow. Tonight, is no longer available.” He spoke with absolution as he heard Goldman start to stutter in disbelief on the other line. Before his assistant could argue or say anything further, he hung up on him. Goldman had dealt with bigger issues before, he would be fine.

The CEO quickly followed Juliette into the living room, where he found her sitting on his couch waiting. She looked beautiful and lovely as always, even with the annoyance rolling out of  her in waves, nothing could stop how gorgeous she was to him. Victor couldn’t help but smile a bit at how she was acting, the woman before him looked like a very annoyed, fluffed up kitten. He sat down beside her, setting his phone on the coffee table before turning to her, giving the brunette his full attention.

“Why have you been avoiding me? My calls?” Juliette spoke angrily, a confused look into her chocolate colored eyes. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this, it’s one thing to ignore me for work but…” She trailed off, her expression suddenly becoming vulnerable. “We had that wonderful date, I thought we had grown closer. I know you didn’t mean to spend the night on purpose, but I enjoyed waking up in your arms. I know you did too, so I don’t understand,” the producer shook her head back and forth before stopping to look at him again. “I don’t understand why you aren’t talking to me.” The irritation she had come to his home with vanished and a look of hurt crossed her face instead.

Gently, Victor reached out and cupped her face. Moving close to her, his fingers stroked her skin and his pulse quickened slightly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” He spoke softly as he leaned down, pressing his forehead against his. Juliette sniffed and he felt her slender arms encircle his neck. His breath caught slightly, and he closed his eyes for a moment, only to open them to find her gaze focused on his own. Without thinking, the ravenette gently tilted her face up to his and pecked her lips against his. Juliette gasped against his mouth and he smiled in return. He angled his head slightly and kissed her once more, deepening it.

“Victor…” the brunette murmured his name and it was as if the spell that been cast on him broke. He pulled away from her, enough to look down at her face. His fingers still lingered on her cheeks and a look on confusion filled her now flushed face. He had to get better grip on himself and his thoughts, his annoying, tortuous lewd thoughts of her. They had just found one another one again and after seventeen years of searching for her, he still couldn’t believe he had finally found her and the little girl who had saved him all those years ago. He couldn’t risk ruining what they had because of his own carnal, selfish desires. Reluctantly he let go of her face and started to pull away only to find the front of his shirt being grabbed and pulled back toward her. He started to say her name but closed his mouth and repeatedly blinked several times at the look on her face. “I am not a doll or a piece of glass. I’m the woman you love.” Juliette pulled him so closed to her that their noses barely were inches apart. Her dark hues kept moving from his eyes to his mouth and something just snapped inside of him.

The CEO wrapped his arms around her and buried his face into her neck, he felt himself shaking a little. “Is it so wrong that I want to cherish you Juliette?” He murmured into her skin, kissing the spot beneath her ear. He felt her hands move into his hair, her delicate fingers stroking through the strands. “Cherishing doesn’t mean keeping me at arm’s length or ignoring the fact that we want one another.” Juliette’s hands suddenly disappeared from his head and he felt a gentle nudge underneath his chin, he obliged her and looked at her. She kissed his nose and pressed her forehead against his own, her arms immediately wrapping around his neck. “I love you and I want you.” Victor fought the urge to stop and rewind time, but he also didn’t want to make Juliette have to wait any longer either. His little producer had gotten quite bold, maybe all his heavy teasing and business advice had finally gotten through to her.

“I have always loved you,” He murmured against her mouth before pressing a chase against her mouth and a small murmur was her response, her nails digging lightly into the back of his neck. Smiling Victor kissed her again, sliding his tongue past her lips and into her mouth to meet her tongue. His hands cradled and angled her face up to his as they kissed. Juliette sighed and moaned into his mouth as kept his lips against her own, his fingers stroking the sides of her face. Victor pulled away after what seemed like hours from her panting ever so slightly, his cock throbbing and beginning to harden as he stared at her flushed face and wide-eyed gaze.

“Have you ever done anything like this before?” He asked as his hands left her cheeks and moved down her neck, his fingers tracing her body downward until they rested against her hips. The brunette stared up at him for a few moments not saying anything and he was about to say something when she dug her nails gently but with purpose into his neck.

“Some of it. Does it matter?” She asked holding his gaze and ignoring his hands moved and gripped the backs of her legs, he swore he saw her chest rise and fall faster at the movement.

“Hold on tight to me.” Victor replied and lifted her off the couch making sure that her legs wrapped around his torso. She made a small sound of distress, but he kissed her cheek and chuckled. “I’m not going to let you fall, Juliette.” She adjusted herself a bit against him and once she settled into his arms, she pulled out slightly and looked down at him. Her eyebrows rose when he didn’t move, he just stood there holding her.

“Are you sure you want---?”

“Victor,” She cut him off and one of her hands grabbed his chin and pulled his face closer to her own. Her chocolate orbs seemed ablaze with determination, the same gaze he had seem her do many times before either when presenting a report to him or eating one of his meals. He pecked her mouth and moved his hands from her hips to his ass, squeezing the delicate round. The earlier bravo she had had shown him all of a sudden faded and her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red. Smirking, he kissed her again making sure to press his middle especially hard between the spot of her legs. Her hands dug into his shoulders and she let out a low sound against his mouth. Pulling away, he kissed her nose and started to walk away from the couch and living room and moved towards the stairs. “Just wanted to make sure you know what you’re getting into.” Victor kissed her again, breaking apart only for a few moments to angle his face towards her. He reached the stairs and carefully went up them one by one, his fingers kneading and squeezing the brunette’s ass. Juliette kept letting low moans escape her mouth and into his own, her voice was getting louder with each passing moment and he wondered if she had even realized she was making a sound.

Once they reached the top of the stairs, the CEO carried her down the hallway and paused at his bedroom door. Victor broke away from her lips only to find himself pressing his forehead against her own. His dark hues looking into her own gaze as they looked at one another.

“When we go in there I’m not going to stop, so I need to know…” He paused, reaching up one of his hands and caressing the side of her face. “Are you sure?” His thumb traced her mouth before he leaned in and kissed her again. Pulling back his hand left her face and back down to her side, squeezing her there. His hands tangling in the fabric as he took a step forward, pausing in the doorway of his bedroom.

“I’m sure,” Juliette spoke her voice seemingly out of breath, and he smiled in response. Kissing her deeply once more, Victor moved them into his bedroom using his back foot to shut the door firmly behind them.

[bat-besties]

Courtship song

AO3

2.7k

Logince Fluff

When esteemed researcher Logan Crofter needs the help of a musician, famous saxophone player Roman Sanders gets ready for the most unusual project of his career.

-

Logan looked over the application again. Roman Sanders, respected saxophone player, winner of the Australian Jazz Bell Awards 2015 and 2018, with record sales in fifty countries. He outshone every other applicant, but that was what was worrying. Logan knew that his budget could not stretch to the kind of money Sanders would make at his average performance. Still, the musician had known their budget when he applied.

Trying not to overthink it too much, he dialed the number.

After a few moments, it picked up. "Hello? This is Roman Sanders speaking," said a clear, deep voice from the other end and he froze. He had not- expected him to sound like that. Whatever he had expected his voice to hold, it was not a timbre which seemed to be set to the resonant frequency of Logan's heart.

"Hello? Can I help you?"

"Yes-yes-" he snapped back into focus and cleared his throat. "Yes, this is, uh, Logan Crofter, I am accepting your application. You have reviewed the details?"

"I have! It all seems to be very organised," Roman replied. Logan felt his cheeks flood with heat.

"It is very organised," he said stiffly. "It's not your usual caliber of work, I know, but it is very serious. Very important. To me and others."

Roman laughed, not like he was mocking Logan, but in a genuine expression of excitement. "I know! It's important to me too! I always want to do something different, stretch my creativity, so this stood out to me. I think the idea is amazing. How did you come up with it?"

"Oh, you know, research- but more than a little hope. I had to also be creative, in my own way." Desperate times led to desperate measures, which for Logan were increasingly far from the approval of established methodology.

"Wonderful!"

He was suddenly afraid that Roman could hear his heart racing over the other end of the phone line. "Indeed. Indeed. So, I will email you the relevant audio files, then I can set up the studio for you for the 15th."

"Of course- I'll try and immerse myself! Truly get the feel! Any documentaries or anything you can recommend?"

"Oh, I-" Logan adjusted his perfectly straight glasses. "I'll send you a link to some," he said in a high-pitched voice. "And I can- set up the studio for you."

"Thank you, I appreciate it, Logan."

At the sound of his name in Roman's voice, he completely short-circuited. "Yesthankyougoodbye-" He hung up.

For a long moment, he stared at the blank screen of his phone almost breathless. I appreciate it, Logan.

He stood up, irritated, and wondered what in the name of Darwin had come over him. Attraction, he supposed. The musician's voice was simply...attractive.

Would it be egotistical to send Roman a documentary he himself had been interviewed in? It was most informative due to his consultation, but...perhaps it would not look best. Then again, research would probably cause him to stumble upon Logan's name-

He shook his head. He did not have time to deal with this. There were more important things at stake, and Roman Sanders could wait until the 15th.

*

Writing a love song would be stressful enough with a conspicuous and oft-mourned lack of a lover in his life, but as Roman trawled through the articles and videos Logan sent him, what had started as an exercise in eccentricity began to take on larger importance.

As the two emailed back and forth, the nervous, uptight voice Roman had spoken on the phone to morphed into a complete nerd delivering informative ramblings, or, in one YouTube video he'd stumbled upon, a slightly younger version of Logan almost lit up by a kind of tender curiosity.

Therefore, Roman wanted his song to be perfect, and between days practicing and nights researching, he managed to finish the piece only the day before the 15th.

*

As soon as he caught a glimpse of Roman's cloud of hair in the distance, Logan took a deep breath, and pulled on his best cool and professional approach. "Roman! I’m glad you were punctual."

Roman grinned at him. "I thought you'd appreciate that."

And, despite himself, he grinned back. He coughed, and then opened the door so Roman could carry his saxophone case through. "We rented out the space for hours, to give you as much time as you need."

"Thank you," the musician stepped through into the cool air-conditioned reception and wondered why Logan was flushed. "I hope you weren't waiting outside long? I am usually on time! I neither lag nor rush," he joked.

After a moment, the corners of his mouth twitched up. "Ah. Jazz joke. And no, please do not worry. I was not outside long."

As he led Roman down the corridor, he was trying not to look like he was watching him- though he also wanted to be polite- so he walked just ahead, turning his head every now and then. "Everything is prepared for you. We will overlay the drums afterwards, that idea is...really quite impressive."

"Well, the video you sent me gave me the idea! But yes," he admitted, with a bow more flamboyant than polite, "I do think the way I've worked it is quite unique."

They stopped outside the door. "Well-" Logan began, and Roman looked at him with interest. As they made eye contact somehow all the words he wanted to say fell down to bounce around his stomach.

Roman frowned in concern. "Are you alright?" Maybe the researcher got anxious, like Virgil did. "Would you rather I didn't make eye contact?"

"Oh," He adjusted his tie and looked down. "Thank you. No, I am alright with it. It is a threat display in many animals, but not necessarily humans-" He tapped the door-handle. He dimly knew he should cut off now but his clarification was already falling out his mouth. "It is especially seen as a threat among primates, and among those that is most pronounced with chimpanzees- which is why you must never look a chimpanzee in the eye and why zoos should in my opinion warn about body language of primates better, because visitors can upset them. But, then, many animals do become desensitised.” He shook his head. “But really, anthromorphising animals at all is a fool's route." His eyes darted up to meet Roman's once more.

Oh no. He was very, very cute. Roman would never have thought being informed about primate threat displays would be very interesting, but it was incredibly endearing. "You never think animals have their own thoughts and feelings?" he gently prompted.

"No, I know they do," Logan said sincerely. "But they are not the same as human thoughts and feelings."

"This isn't a little like that?" Roman teased.

Logan drew himself up. "No, this is research based."

"Have you set up the studio for me?" Roman asked with a twinkle of humor in his eye.

"I have. For you, a human-" But Roman just caught on you.

Logan unlocked the door, to reveal that the inside of the studio had been decorated with potted plants, the floor scattered with rose petals, a few candles lit, and a framed photo sat on a side-table.

"This is for your inspiration," Logan said with a slight smile. "You may serenade the photo."

Roman burst into a peal of laughter as he put down his case, then blew a kiss to the photograph.

It was a picture of a bird. It had mossy green feathers around its face, then brown ones around beady black eyes and a little beak with nostrils in it.

"I have played love songs for many people in my lifetime," Roman announced to Logan. "But never for, or on behalf of, a parrot."

The kakapo parrot is remarkable for many reasons- it is the only flightless parrot, as well as the heaviest one, and it is historically significant to the Maori. It ought to find mates with males booming to win the attention of females in arenas, but with critically diminishing numbers, competitions to attract mates are not replenishing or increasing the population. And therefore, conservationists must become creative.

"It is not a method which has been proven," Logan clarified, once again. "But any assistance in creating optimal conditions for the kakapo to meet mates is gravely needed."

Roman winked at him. "Don't worry, you already know that I can help set the mood."

"I don't know what you are-"

He undid the clips of his case, then picked up some of the rose petals. "And so, it seems, do you."

"It is of great importance this goes as well as it can do," Logan replied primly.

"Of course, of course, we need the rose petals," he said, with wide, sincere eyes. "For the atmosphere! Here we are, in the arena of love..."

"Actually," Logan couldn't help but add, "the arenas are very large. Each "court" is on average 50m apart, so I would have to be down the street from you."

Roman pouted. "But the benefit of this is you hearing me up close, not at the distance of a music arena. You have front-row tickets to one of the biggest names in Australian jazz." That was, perhaps, arrogant, but Logan appreciated him saying it like the fact it was. He said it like it was a gift to Logan that the musician wanted him to appreciate, not something he didn't deserve.

"Well," Logan conceded, "I suppose that the bird being serenaded is closer to the court."

"I am a proud parrot in my court then!" he said.

Logan nodded. "That is accurate. Judging by your voice, I am hoping your saxophone playing will also be attractive."

Roman paused. "By my voice?"

"It is objectively attractive," Logan said, completely objectively. "Therefore, I hope that your playing shall attract the kakapo parrots. To each other."

"Oh." Roman's eyes widened, then a soft smile spread on his face. "Thank you."

He bobbed his head into a nod, then gestured to the recording booth. "I have been instructed in how to use this, so I am going to go and set it up. You can start when you are ready."

"Just give me a moment to warm up."

"Of course."

As Logan fiddled with the controls to set up the recording for a new song, Roman warmed up, playing through a few scales. He didn't use anything to check his exact pitch, but it sounded right to Logan as he adjusted.

Then he paused, and nodded to Logan through the glass. "I'm ready."

Roman started with a few low, humming notes, similar to the booming of the kakapo, and Logan looked up from the controls, his heart in his chest all of a sudden. He could remember those long nights in a hide close to the arena, hearing the courtships- it was a sound which by rights should be common all throughout New Zealand. Then, the musician overlayed a few long notes, swaying and closing his eyes as he leaned into the music.

It was upbeat, with big dramatic swells every now and again, and Logan, whose mind was always leaping from thought to thought, from analysis to evaluation, was transfixed into stillness.

The smooth sounds, Roman's swaying, the way the dim light of the studio glinted off the saxophone and that earnest expression on the player's face…

All too soon, it came to an end with a final little trill.

*

To ward off stage fright, Roman had closed his eyes against the cute researcher and instead lost himself to his music. As he opened them again, he was met with a beaming smile and round of applause. A residue of nerves mixed with pride to thrill through him. "What did you think?"

Logan beamed. "I think it was perfect."

Roman's face heated, and his eyes crinkled as he returned a genuine smile. "Thank you! So- I'll have some water, have another take or two, and then we can see about overlaying drums and chirping?"

Logan nodded. "I think that is a good plan."

The two of them worked well together- in all honesty, Logan didn't have to input much since Roman was the expert on composition, but he was happy to cede control on a project if he was confident in the abilities of his partner. He was happy to listen to each deliberation, and provide questions if not answers.

They were finished and ready to vacate the studio half-an-hour before they needed to, since Roman helped Logan carry his props back to the van. "No- they just pair for the mating season."

"For now!" Roman declared. "My funky music will create love for a lifetime! That's a joke," he clarified.

Logan laughed. "Well, at least they have great genetic variation."

It was late afternoon creeping into evening outside the studio, and the warm air had begun to mellow and cool. "Are you staying in Auckland long?" Logan inquired.

"Only a few nights. I want to catch a show, but I don't have anything to do tonight. How about you?"

"I should be back at the sanctuary tomorrow. I would recommend the square a few streets from here if you're looking for a good restaurant. I can give you directions?"

"Oh, I don't know," Roman adjusted his saxophone case with a faux innocent expression. "I have to have this back at the hotel for safekeeping, and then it might be harder to find my way there..."

Logan furrowed his brow. "I can give you an address if you wish to use Google Maps?"

He couldn't quite work out if this was a genuine suggestion, or a gentle refusal. His hotel was close, and Logan's van on the curb. It was now or never- "You could take me," he said, with a confidence he didn't feel. "Tell me more about, uh, parrots."

Logan's heart thudded in his chest. "As a social event? Not to do with the project?"

"Social, yes."

"I'd like that." He adjusted his glasses. "I would like that very much, Roman."

They walked back to Roman's hotel, so that he could protect his saxophone, then wandered out along a quiet avenue on the way to the restaurant. The sky had dimmed to soft grey and purple, clouds scudding aimlessly across it. Side by side, they talked and laughed, glances catching on lips, on hands, on each other.

As a tentative test, Logan moved closer, so that their hands brushed together as they walked. When Roman faltered in the middle of his story about a concert, he offered his hand for him to hold.

Roman took it, raised it to his lips, and turned Logan red. Then, Logan mirrored, pulling Roman closer by their joined hands and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. For a long, still moment, they met eyes and forgot how to speak.

"I liked your playing, today," Logan said softly.

His lips parted for just a second before he could manage to say, "And I liked talking with you. Even over the emails...it has been a pleasure-" He cut himself off with a nervous laugh. "A pleasure I can't quite describe."

"We don't always need words for things." Although his hand was shaking, and his heart loud in his chest, Logan's voice was steady. "Music, body language, mutual company...there are many ways to communicate."

"Oh?" Roman murmured.

He nodded, and stroked his thumb over the back of Roman's hand. "I think so."

"Then, may I..." Slowly, he brought their joined hands over Logan's heart, and he moved his other one to cup his face.

Logan's eyes darted up to meet his, all shining with wonder. A breeze shivered through the trees, and although the evening was still balmy, he drew closer together, wrapping his arm around Roman's waist.

They stood in a tenderness of quick breaths and racing hearts, until Logan breathed, "Yes."

Roman dipped his head, and Logan tilted his up, their noses bumping into each other so the kiss was met with the beginnings of laughter. It was gentle, and curious, and as much about their clasped hands and chests pressed together and weak knees as it was the kiss itself.

They drew back for a beat. "How was that?" Roman asked, although his face was hot and Logan was starry-eyes, and he felt like he could faint.

"It was perfect," he said, thrilling again at Roman's voice so close to his face. "Just perfect. But, with these things I suppose..."

Roman stopped breathing.

A mischievous smile crept onto his flushed face. "I suppose we would be remiss for not, ah, testing further."

He burst into laughter. "Of course! Of course! Practice is the key to anything..." And they kissed again, more secure and passionate than before.

- 

This is all based on a true story! Here is an article And here is the song! 

[evabellasworld]

Hear the Wind Sing

For @the11tailedlovesclones, this is my gift for you as part of the @starwarsfandomfests event. Thank you to @lilhawkeye3 for organising this event. I really enjoyed it so far.——————————————————————————————

Summary:  Fox and Riyo were relaxing underneath an ancient tree, wondering about the past and the future of their family they're building.

——————————————————————————————

AO3 Link

Stepping onto a dead leaf that was laying on the ground, Commander Fox was walking down a fresh, muddy road, holding Riyo Chuchi's hand. With a plain white T-shirt and his khaki pants, he gazed at the paddy fields to his left, with the young stalks standing still on the murky water, filled with eels and occasionally leeches.

This wasn't the first paddy field that Fox has seen throughout his life. The first one was when he had to safeguard Riyo from danger. At that time, they hadn't confessed their love towards each other due to the circumstances at that time. It was a day after the whole fiasco at her parent's house that they both realized their feelings towards each other.

Even then, both Fox and Riyo had to hide their relationship from the public, despite a few of them learning their secret. The Jedi who accompanied them were the first to figure it out but promised not to tell anyone about it. His brothers and sisters, Thorn, Stone, Thire, Yves, and Lip knew about them as well but decided to not say a word, though they nudged him about it.

It was difficult to have a love affair in public since he was a clone trooper while Riyo was a senator, and kissing in front of everyone would not only ruin both their reputation but also their career as well. Riyo would have been fired and shamed in public while Fox, on the other hand, would either be decommissioned or euthanized or both.

He heard stories about how his brothers were caught fraternizing with their lovers and were never seen or heard again. His sisters, on the other hand, had it worse. There was one clone who ended up pregnant and as a result, both the mother and the baby were terminated by the Kaminoan government.

Disgusted and angry at them, Fox finds himself cursing the Republic for not only treating them like slaves but also restraining their rights to lead normal lives such as falling in love with someone. Since clone troopers were only manufactured to fight to their death, love isn’t in the manual, but that doesn’t stop soldiers like Fox to lead a private life with Riyo.

It was risky, but breathtaking at the same time for Riyo. The romance novel that she read when she was younger, titled ‘My Dirty Secrets,’ was about an office clerk who met a homeless man down the streets and found a spark between them. As time goes by, they both have a love affair and have to keep their relationship a secret from the clerk’s snobbish family. They both didn’t live happily ever after in the end, as the male lover was found dead in the streets, leaving behind his pregnant lover.

The novel made Riyo tear up and astounded at the same time, as she would read it again and again, just to feel poignant. She dreams about having a secret lover one day and wanting one desperately after finding out her parents were once secret lovers as well. 

Their relationship was scandalous at that time since her father was a rice farmer while her mother was the daughter of an aristocrat. Both sides of the family did not approve of the relationship and did everything they could to end their relationship but in the end, they relented and the rest was history.

Who would have thought that Riyo would repeat history by falling in love with someone that society would never approve of? It's almost as if her parents taught her that love knows no boundaries and accepting of each other's flaws. She wouldn't be dazed if the child that she's carrying in her womb would carry on with the tradition of loving someone that is contrasting from what others expect. Who knows?

“Beautiful day, isn't it?” she smiled, noticing her newly-wed husband gazing at the rice fields. 

“Yeah, it really is a beautiful day,” he smiled back, shifting his attention to Riyo, who was squeezing his hands. “Just like you and the baby.”

She chuckled, covering her thin lips. “The baby isn't born yet, dear.”

“Well, how long do I have to wait until our child is ready?”

“Around 27 weeks,” answered Riyo. “Are you this impatient to see the baby?”

He scratched the back of his black curly hair as if he was caught red-handed for stealing candy from a jar. “Yes, I am impatient to meet our child. It's just that, well, I have been preparing day and night on what to do when the baby comes out and what I say to her when I meet her and such. I-”

“Alright, I get it,” Riyo stopped him there. “You're just excited for the baby, I know. But you don't have to stress on every single detail about our child, you know. All you have to do is to go with the flow, that's all.”

He let out a sigh. “I know, I know, but I just can't help it, especially when it comes to something that is unfamiliar to the both of us, you know.”

“Fox, you took care of kids before,” she placed her hand on his shoulder. “I know that you will be a good father to our daughter. I have faith in you.”

Fox could only press his lips on her forehead as he gave a slight nod. “I'll try my best, Ri. I promise.”

“Glad to hear it,” she gleamed as they both continued walking on the road, rubbing her belly. 

For the past four months, she did everything she could to conceal her pregnancy from the public. Whenever she zipped to the bathroom due to morning sickness, she would claim that she was reapplying her makeup and adjusted her hair to avoid suspicion from her colleagues.

Fox was ecstatic to hear that he was going to be a father, but at the same time, he was nervous. With their relationship in secrecy, there is no way people can know that Riyo was carrying his baby. If they ever found out, their relationship would be doomed, just like the lovers in 'My Dirty Secret.' 

With Palpatine forcing him to work extra hours in his shift, he felt guilty for leaving Riyo all alone in her apartment, throwing up inside the toilet bowl. A normal husband would be ready to assist his pregnant wife whenever she needed his help, but not in his case. 

Riyo continued going up and down in the Senate, pushing herself to make sure Republic bills that would benefit the public would be passed while dealing with her dizziness that would creep from time-to-time.

Fox would check in every few hours and would massage her sore shoulders and back to soothe her dizziness. If he was lucky, he sneaked in a ration bar, which she craves a lot. 

She hated those rations for being too bland and chalky for her taste, but suddenly loved them when her favourite womp-rat stew was nauseating for her. Even those Pantoran milk cookies made her lose her appetite, but at least his brothers and sisters have an excuse to hoard for themselves, much to the Marshal Commander's annoyance.

Hyewon especially would stuff everything in one go while Yves just hides the extras in her secret pouch and eats them as a midnight snack. The worst culprit was Thorn, who had a sweet-tooth among the Coruscant Guards. Not only would he put a few teaspoons of sugar and cream, but he also poured a quarter of a jar of cookies inside the coffee, giving Fox a heart attack.

He loves his siblings very much, but at the same time, he has the urge to just smack them on the head for being dumb, which Riyo finds their bickering rather humorous. Though he doesn't admit it, he does miss them and would call each other every week just to check in with them.

Last he heard, Lip left a toxic relationship with her lover after a year, granting her full custody of her daughter. Thorn, like Fox, settled down with his lover on Coruscant. Thire, on the other hand, replaced him as Marshal Commander and served under the Republic military, this time, being paid for his duty, along with Commander Stone.

His batchmates, Wolffe, lived together with Cody, Tori, Mayyah, and Rex in one cabin, leading a life outside the military, though Tori supported her Jedi General whenever she could, since they're still young and coping with the aftermath of the war. He would like to have a reunion with his siblings one day, but for now, he'll have to catch up on some lost times with Riyo.

As they settled down underneath an enormous tree, with a tyre swing hung on the thick branches, Fox found himself surrounded by a field of pastel pink tulips, which were swaying back and forth with the cool wind. He could only gasp as he began to count every flower that he's gazing at right now. 

He was speechless. Likewise, he had seen pictures of tulips in the HoloNet, he had never looked at them, or even touched them in his life. “Ri,” Fox stuttered. “This is amazing. I've never seen anything like this before.”

She grinned, sitting on the swing like she did when she was a child. “I always come here to either play with the swing or climb all the way to the top.”

“You can climb?” Fox raised his eyebrows, his hands on his waist. 

“Yes, dear,” she chuckled. “I climbed this very tree all the way to the top and pretended that I was on top of the world. It was one of the best memories I had growing up.”

He smiled as he stood in front of her, rubbing his hands on her belly. “Sounds like fun, to be honest.”

“Oh, it was fun. I even sneaked out here in the middle of the night just to see those stars in the sky. You'll get the best view here.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yes. One time, I ran out of the house late at night and climbed all the way to the top of the tree, and guess what? I witnessed not one, but two shooting stars passing by Pantora. Isn't that exciting?”

“What's a shooting star?” Fox asked, who had never done such a thing in his life before.

“Well, it's a star that glides in the sky that grants you a wish if you ever see one.”

“A star that grants your wish? Does it work?”

Riyo nodded. “In a way, it works, though it's rare to see a shooting star in the sky.”

“So, what did you wish for, dear?”

“Well, I wished that I lived happily ever after with a brave knight, and a bright future.”

He let out a snort. “Looks like you only got your second wish to come true, no offense though.”

“Actually, all my wishes came true,” Riyo held his hands, glancing at his deep, brown eyes. “You are the knight that I wished for when I was a child.”

His eyes widened at her words. Surely, she couldn't have wished to be together with him, since they have never even met yet. She was probably imagining a gallant knight that she read in fairy tales, who had shining armour and a handsome look, which admittedly, Fox has none of those. “And how am I the knight that you wished to live happily ever after?” 

“You perform your duty well as a soldier, you protect those who couldn’t protect themselves, and on top of that, you have honour and kindness, and I’m proud that you swooped into my life, commander.” 

He could only hold back his tears as he kneeled on the emerald grass, pressing his forehead against her forehead. His hands were gripped around his waist as Riyo clung her arms around his broad shoulders, feeling each other's hearts drumming in rhythm.

“I'm proud to have you too in my life, To, though I feel that I don't deserve you.”

She raised one of her eyebrows, wondering what he meant. “Fox, don't say that. You deserve good things in your life after what happened in the last four months.”

He could only frown as he recalled what happened on that very day in the Senate building. “Yeah, I remember like it was yesterday. I could never forget it, no matter how much I've tried to move on.”

“You can tell me anything, Fox,” Riyo assured him, even though she already knew what happened back then. “I won't judge you, I promise in the name of the goddess Loona.”

“It all started when I received an order from the Chancellor,” he began. “He informed us that there was a rogue clone who was on the run. According to him, he tried to kill the Chancellor, and we were ordered to hunt him down on Coruscant.”

“So we did. Yves, Duke, Hyewon, Chae, Eren, and Jay, we all had our blasters loaded. We set them to kill since the Chancellor ordered us to do so.”

“But when we confronted him in the warehouse, I just couldn't do it. I had my fingers on the trigger, but I couldn't bring myself to kill him, Riyo. Even though I barely know Fives, he was my vod'ika. I didn't want to take my younger brother's life. Instead, I just let my blaster drop from my arms and sobbed like a child.”

Fox paused for a moment, wiping the tears off his face. “General Skywalker and Rex were there, comforting me. Fives just watched as I told them what the Chancellor ordered, and the next thing I knew, I ended up pointing my blaster at the Chancellor, with General Skywalker and General Windu threatening to step down from duty.”

“And the rest was history,” Riyo concluded, brushing his cheeks with her gentle palms. “I'm glad that you did the right thing, my dear. I know that you wished that you could have acted sooner to eliminate the Chancellor, but your actions have saved the Republic and the galaxy, and for that, we thanked you for your bravery.”

He pulled her closer as he rested his head on her chest, letting his tears carry the rest of their conversation. “I hated him so much, Ri. All those years, he ignored my brother's and sister's pleas against the abuse inflicted upon them, he let them die as they begged for his help to send more troops, he even made us a property that is replaceable. He-”

“It's alright, Fox,” she whispered in his ears, rubbing his back. “He's already gone. The war is over and your brothers and sisters have the freedom to pursue their own life without restraints.”

Riyo took a deep breath as she faced him, never letting go of each other's grasps. “It's hard to live with the traumas after the war. It's hard to face your own personal demons that torment your head. I know it's hard to forgive yourself for not being able to save your siblings from death, but I know you can go through this.”

“You're the strongest man I have ever known, not because of your muscles or the ability to shoot with your weapons, it's because of the way you faced obstacles in your life, Fox. You've dealt with abuse, you've dealt with overworking, you've dealt with prejudices from senators and civilians, and yes, it is torturing. But you know what, you're not alone. You can bounce back from the pit, you can grow to be a better person, I know you can.”

“Thorn believed in you, Wolffe believed in you, Tori believed in you, your brothers and sisters believed in you, and I believed in you. I know you feel alone, but you're not. We'll always be there for you, no matter what.”

Fox could only smile as they let their foreheads touch. Riyo was right. He is not alone in this battle against himself. His friends and family are there to support him through the hard times. Recovering from pain is a difficult path, as there are no right or wrong answers to heal. 

But he can get through this. He will live long enough to witness his child having a family on their own, and he will live long enough to watch Riyo's hair turn grey. As long as Fox and Riyo heat the wind singing their love stories to their children and their children, everything is in safe hands.

[youngbugandtonystank]

I think Peter has a great development in FFH, and one that people sadly go through in the real world: struggling with grief but realizing life goes on. You suggested you analyze Peter’s grief in FFH and I would love that, emotional as it is, it’s inspiring for people going through the same thing. Please do it! Thanks

Hi!

I was going to do the Happy one first but I’ve been wanting to do this one for a while, so I’m going to start with this analysis. Hope you guys don’t mind. Also, I’m sure they were more asks about the FFH one and I’m sorry if I didn’t include yours in the list but my inbox is a mess right now, so I apologize. 

As an expert-master of grief that I am lol I think I really can read Peter pretty well in this movie, one of the reasons I was avoiding this analysis was because it’s too painful for me hahaha, it hits close to home. 

Now, let’s track this down. Peter is just a kid but this kid has been through so much, it’s painful. Peter lost his parents and was sent to live with his aunt and uncle, then he, unfortunately, had to see his father figure; Ben Parker, die in front of him and the result of that gave him a sense of responsibility for the rest of his life: 

‘When you can do the things that I can, but you don't, and then the bad things happen, they happen because of you.‘

He's always walking around with a ton of traumatic and painful memories. 

Let’s be honest, he believes he ‘killed’ his own uncle, that it was because of him that Ben is dead. It happened because of him from his perspective. So it’s natural for this boy to pass through a long process of grief but here’s the catch, Peter never does. Peter always avoids tragedy until it piles up to the point of unbearable. Peter bears with his responsibility and holds himself accountable for things that are not even his fault but this kid is not capable of processing grief the way it’s supposed to be. I think he wasn’t completely healed of his grief from Ben’s death when he met Tony but as the time passed and he saw another opportunity of having that amazing experience of having another male parental figure, he relented. And now I bet he regrets it.

I kinda wish FFH went into more detail with this so certain fans would understand why having Tony was a good thing for Peter. As he got to know Tony, he started to let him in. He saw him as a father figure and relied on him just like any other teenager would with their parents. Peter was starting to process of healing with Tony. One of the things I love the most about their relationship is that they helped each other grow. Tony learned and experienced something new when he met Peter and Peter started to let another figure into his life. 

Many of you don’t like this but this kid did want Tony’s approval. He confirmed this himself:

In all the weirdness and outside-of-himselfness that went along with becoming Spider-Man, that one conversation with Mr. Stark had made Peter feel . . . okay. Normal, even. Something he never thought he'd feel again. Peter knew he should feel all these things without needing Mr. Stark's approval. That your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man didn't need the approval of multibillionaire, Super Hero philanthropists to help out the people on his block. But, right now? Peter wanted Mr. Stark to approve of him more than anything.

And this translates into the movie so well, Tony made Peter feel normal, made him feel understood and that he didn’t need to do this alone. Peter always feels like he’s the only one that can do things. He feels alone. 

He looked from the ship to the other kids on the bus to see if anyone else saw it. Nothing. Just him. As usual.

He even described Ned as ‘blissfully ignorant of any imminent danger.’

So after getting used to just him and May, after meeting Tony, after getting used to being Spider-Man, Peter creates a sense of stability and normalcy that helps him heal and continue with his life at a semi-normal pace. In Endgame, he loses that stability all over again. When you lose something that is essentially keeping you together, you start using coping mechanisms to fill in the spots that you consider empty. The ones that are going to break you. Peter doesn’t feel ready to handle all of that pain at once so he starts avoiding the issue. 

Peter not only lost Tony, but he also lost his life and remembers fighting in a big war where he got attacked multiple times by an alien army and the mad titan that killed him, Tony and half of the universe. Nobody is ready to deal with that kind of trauma. Nobody. 

FFH tells us that it’s been 8 months since The Blip. 8 months Peter’s been avoiding things related to Tony and everything related to Titan in general. He doesn't want to feel the weight of all-consuming grief because one minute he had everything and the next, that disappeared, his semi-normalcy was broken up by waves of tragedy.

Notice how in HOCO he was desperately seeking the superhero big-league adventures; wanting to be part of the Avengers, fighting crime on a bigger scale, fighting villains and more, then in FFH, he was desperately seeking the normal life experiences; romance, field trips, school events, etc. 

And I think everyone around him can feel that coming from him so they make sure to reassure him all the time and he gratefully accepts any kind of reassuring comfort he can get from anyone: 

There are so many hugs in this movie, I can’t keep track of all of them. I was surprised Peter didn’t hug Mr. Delmar too, I think he even hugged his teacher on one occasion lmao

I think we all know who was the last person Peter hugged before all of this:

It’s really sad when he’s trying his hardest to avoid all of his trauma and nothing seems to work for him. He avoids Fury’s calls, tells May he really needs a break and that he really needs the trip, everything to get as far away as possible from New York.

Anything that saves him from thinking about this:

First, look at him. He’s in a room full of drawings dedicated to Tony Stark and the kid is talking about a plan on how to woo a girl, even Ned is wondering what is going on. Then he advises him to not do any of that.

Then, on the plane, he has to actually listen to his teacher talk about funerals and his only entertainment from the rest of the trip is:

Then he arrives and they get attacked by a gigantic monster. And Peter fights this monster. He hears his classmates discuss this and he hears them call Mysterio a combination of Iron Man and Thor. Notice how after this, instead of calling someone for help or find out where did that monster comes from, he just starts talking about his plan all over again, like nothing happened. Anything related to Tony is a big nope for him.

Unfortunately for Peter:

He’s everywhere. Peter is starting to realize he can’t escape Tony anymore. He told Happy that he sees his face everywhere he goes, this is not only confirmation that Peter’s been trying to avoid it but that he can’t no longer pretend Tony’s not there. 

On every occasion someone brought up Tony, Peter couldn’t handle it. He either breaks down or has a panic attack. 

He quickly gets attached to someone else and even tells Beck that it’s nice to have someone to talk to about the superhero world, who used to do that with him? Tony. Peter deeply misses him but he’s not willing to accept the fact that he’s gone, he’s just pushing and pushing that reality away from him. Beck is a great manipulator and he can see that Peter doesn’t want to be reminded of this so he pushes Peter back on the topic: ‘It's a hard path. You see things, you do things... Make choices. People look up to you... Even if you win a battle sometimes, they die.’

He even MAKES Peter see Tony everywhere, he’s using Tony’s death against him. He’s taking advantage of the fact that the poor kid can’t handle his father figure’s death: 

You know he’s the villain and you what he’s trying to do, but the fact that even he can see what Peter’s trying to do is really sad. He later tells Peter this: ‘ I tried to help you walk away. Now you're making me do this…’ and proceeds to show him Tony’s grave, Iron Man’s zombie suit and tells him what Peter’s been thinking this whole time: ‘If you were good enough, maybe Tony would still be alive’

He’s dealing with two things at the same time: grief and trauma. His grief won’t let him breathe and his trauma is not letting him forget. It’s back and forth. If he lets any of these things in, then he knows he’s done for sure. Everything is going to come back in. 

Let's check the boxes:

Peter doesn’t want to remember or touch anything related to Tony.

He doesn’t want to deal with his own trauma/PTSD.

He doesn’t want to carry Tony’s legacy. He feels like he’s not ready and feels like he’s never going to be ready for that.

He’s desperately trying to live his life even if he feels like he’s breaking apart every 5 minutes.

This kid needs help lmao

There are occasions where he spaces out, gets angry, looks like he’s about to choke, etc.

These are the symptoms of someone who’s dealing with PTSD.

When you’re dealing with trauma, you feel the need to shield yourself from everything that might hurt or trigger you. In some parts of the movie, I felt like Peter wasn’t even there. Just think about it. He disappeared and he felt himself disappear before anyone else did. He lost his sense of reality for a couple of seconds but it was enough, life took too much from him in just those seconds. For him, it was 5 minutes but in reality, he lost 5 years. On top of that, you can tell he feels guilty for Tony’s death as well even if its not his fault. 

This is the part that haunts me:

And this is the one that heals me: 

Let’s be clear, this movie is about Peter learning how to be his own superhero and learning that it’s ok if he doesn’t meet other’s expectations. But this kid still needs to process grief, he still needs to work on his traumas, he needs to get some help. He doesn’t just heal after defeating the villain and that’s it. Hopefully, we’ll see that in the next movie.

Ok, off-topic but I swear, when Beck said Peter looked stupid with Tony’s glasses, I was about to throw some serious hands lmaooo

Thnx♥

[lixxen]

Self-Proclaimed Family Dinner

Aaron Hotchner x Male!Reader

Pt. 2/? (1, 3)

DT: @hommoturttle @slut4hotch @sunshine-vangsness @sapphicstruggle

-

For the HotchChat <3 I love y’all.

--

Y/n had never been this nervous in his life. Not when he graduated college. Not when Elanor Kildow asked to talk to him behind the bleachers in gym class in 7th grade. Not even when he went on his first date with Aaron.

That night Y/n and Aaron were hosting a dinner for Aaron’s team. It was the first time that Y/n would be meeting the team. He had heard stories about them and it made him feel like they would eat him alive. Aaron said they might, hopefully in a joking manner. 

Y/n sat on the counter top of Aaron’s kitchen, watching as Aaron moved around quickly. Aaron was cooking something that Y/n had no idea to make. He also didn’t remember. But it sounded good.

“When did you say they would be here?” Y/n asked Aaron, looking towards the large clock hanging on the wall.

“They should be here soon. Ten minutes at most.” Aaron responded without looking up from what he was doing. It looked like he was mixing something in a bowl.

“What do you want me to do?” Y/n asked, just wanting something to do to ease his nerves.

“You can go set the table and go check the driveway. Reid likes to be early but is too nervous to knock on the door.” Aaron looked up finally and smiled at Y/n, who smiled back.

“Got it.” Y/n hopped off the counter and grabbed the stack of plates and silverware.

He carried them out to the dining room and took his time seeing them out, fussing over the placements. He made sure that they were all near and perfect before walking to the front door. He lifted a blind from the window and peeked through. He could see a car outside that he didn't recognize. 

Y/n took a deep breath before opening the door. He leaned against the doorway and looked to the car. He could see a lanky kid about his age in the car starting back. Y/n waved at him before trying to beckon him inside like a wild cat. Slowly the guy opened the door and stepped out. His hair was slightly longer and he was wearing what his best friend would call nerd attire. Y/n found it charming.

The guy walked up to Y/n and hesitated as he stopped in front of him. Y/n offered a hand and smiled.

"I'm Y/n." Y/n tilted his head at the guy as he took Y/n's hand.

"I'm Spencer Reid. I'm guessing you're Hotch's secret lover that he's tried to desperately hide?" Spencer cracked an awkward smile as Y/n laughed. The kid seemed harmless like Hotch described. Also just as young.

"Yeah. He doesn't really want me to get caught up in his work so I stay away from it." Y/n stepped back and opened the door wide. "Come in."

Spencer nodded and shuffled past Y/n, taking off a shoulder bag that Y/n noticed he carried. Spencer placed it on the small table next to the door and looked around.

"I don't think I've ever been here." Spencer mumbled as he looked around.

"Probably because Aaron is a hermit." Y/n joked as he closed the door.

"As hermit as a father could be." Spencer seemed amused by Y/n's comment and turned to him. "I'm guessing he's in the kitchen."

"Yeah. I think he said he's making some type of casserole and salad for dinner." Y/n shrugged.

"Well, it smells good." Spencer commented and turned back to the house.

"Y/n, is that Reid?" Aaron's voice called from the kitchen.

"Yup! He was in his car!" Y/n called back before glancing at Spencer. He toned down his voice to speak to Spencer. "Let's get you settled in."

Y/n brought Spencer to the kitchen, where Aaron was finishing up.

"So, what do you do for a living?" Spencer asked Y/n.

"I'm actually a quality assurance director. It's boring but I get free things and paid nicely." Y/n shrugs.

"Oh that's cool. What type of products do you handle?" Spencer looked interested in the work, unlike how most of his friends were.

"The type of products you find in crast stores, especially the ones where you can get fabrics." Y/n explained and leaned against the counter.

"So you know the ins and outs of the codes and products? That must be interesting." Spencer smiled. Y/n shrugged and glanced at Aaron. Aaron looked back and smiled. 

"It can be. It's just weird knowing how many products can be easily pushed back because of paperwork." Y/n shrugged.

The conversation drifted from there to products that Y/n found weird and Spencer rambling about their origins.

Y/n found it nice to just listen to someone. He had heard stories about Spencer and his ramblings, but he didn't mind it. He was obviously passionate about everything he learns. Just because he knows a lot and rambles doesn't make him weird or uninteresting. 

After 20 minutes, there was a knock at the door. Aaron excused himself to answer it as Y/n and Spencer moved to the dining room.

Y/n could hear the voices of the team members as they all piled on together. It made Y/n feel slightly anxious, but he just busied himself in talking to Spencer as they all filed into the room.

Y/n turned and smiled at the members as they all stood around the table. Aaron slid next to Y/n and wrapped an arm around him.

"Guys, this is Y/n. He's my boyfriend." Hotch introduced them. "Y/n, this is Derek, JJ, Penelope, David, and Emily. They're my team at the BAU." 

"Hi." Y/n smiled at them, leaning into Aaron. "I've heard a lot about you all."

"We haven't heard much about you, but we were excited to meet you." Derek sent a smile towards Y/n.

"He didn't really mention you until we walked in on a phone call and none of us recognized you." Emily smiled. "We respect privacy when it's requested." 

"Well, I'm glad you all get to meet me now. I'm not too scary I hope." Y/n felt more at ease now.

"Anyone close to Hotch is a friend of ours." JJ stepped forward to take a seat and Penelope made a small confirmation.

"Of course, if you're willing to share him." David cracked a small joke and Y/n laughed.

"Of course." Y/n felt Aaron's hand brush over his back, almost in a soothing way.

From there the group settled down for dinner and talked with ease.

Y/n listened and chimed in with no difficulty, which he was thankful for. He felt the connection between them and he could tell they all cared for each other. Y/n could see them extending the same care in love as they interacted; making jokes with him and making sure he was included. They asked him questions about himself and didn't force them, and in turn they answered questions about themselves.

Y/n truly liked the team and he made a mental note to tell Aaron his input about them later on. 

Y/n laughed along with what Emily had said and looked over to Hotch, who was mid conversation with David. The two locked eyes and Y/n knew that Aaron belonged with the BAU, and Y/n belonged with Aaron.

-

"So what did you think of him?"

The team looked up as Hotch sat down at the conference table. They all were writing reports and decided to sit together during lunch.

"He was really nice. Polite." Emily offered. "He seemed slightly uneased when family was brought up, but very open."

"I noticed that too. It seems like he came from a slightly troubled home from what I was getting." Spencer stated.

"He truly seemed to love you, Hotch." Morgan leaned forward. "The kid is a good one." 

"He has an approval from me." Rossi gave a knowing smile to Hotch, one that almost showed he knew that Hotch wasn't willing to let Y/n go.

"He's… he makes me feel whole again." Hotch looked down at the paperwork before clearing his throat.

JJ walked in, holding a file and food in her hands.

"Are we talking about Y/n?" JJ asked with a small smile on her face.

"And how infatuated Hotch is." Emily grinned as JJ took her place beside her.

"Oooh! You need to tie the knot, Hotch." JJ had a twinkle in her eye, one that was devious. 

"Alright guys. Back to the reports." Hotch tried to deter the conversation.

The others just shared a look as they looked back at their work. They all knew he was in love.

[xparadisexlostx]

Palaemon

So this is a ficlet I’ve been working on for a while now. I don’t know if it’s really going to go anywhere, but I’ve worked on the first chapter, editing and deleting shit for a while and while I have some issues with it, I wanna post it just because of all the work I’ve put into it.

This story will have some body gore/mutilation, and especially as it goes on just elements of things that are Not Ok (and I mean that in a SHIELD brought Coulson back to life against his will and I fully believe they do shady/potentially immoral experiments way). 

I have a whole profile for Winnie that I’ll link when I find it lmfao.

“Data log six-four-seven. Project name: Palaemon. This is project head Dr. Winifred Fletcher.” She wanted to make her voice a monotone over the recording, but as she passed the guards at the entry point and headed up the drive she could feel a shiver of fear crawl up her spine that caused an unconscious little quiver in her tone. It’d been a long time since she’d personally done any field documentation. Years, even. Back when she’d been young and zealous and determined to make a name for herself at SHIELD. Now she had dozens of low-level researchers and new hires in those same shoes she had been, eager to run headfirst into danger if it meant getting her approval. She didn’t have time to deconstruct how she felt about that. SHIELD had always kept her too busy.

She pressed the button on her recording device again. “It is May twenty first two-thousand-and-fourteen. I have been called in to assess a scene at cite three-nine-nine. All seven agents deployed are active participants in Palaemon and were last administered compound HDR 3-00-1 six days ago: the fifteenth of May, two-thousand-and-fourteen. All participants were cleared by medical staff before deployment two days ago, with no unusual side-effects documented during examination.”

Her voice had returned to its normal, professional drone, but something was making her deeply uneasy.

She wasn’t afraid of death. She wasn’t even particularly afraid of pain. It wasn’t the dark gravel drive only illuminated by headlights, or the dilapidated building that leaned like its tired wooden bones might snap at any second that sent chills up her spine. Part of the lure of SHIELD was the thrill of danger, and the morbid, twisted curiosity that came from the unknown. She didn’t fear any external force… only herself and the consequences of her own actions.

Her foot pressed just a little too hard on the brake as she stopped, and it threw her roughly against the seatbelt, which locked like a retractable leash around the neck of an ill trained poodle. A little cough left her, and she groped blindly beside her for the gear shift before finally freeing herself of her bindings. She snatched a bag from the passenger seat and pushed open the door. Immediately the night air rushed around her, heavy and humid, clinging to her skin, laying on her chest, and making it harder to breathe. Cicadas were droning a loud, repetitive song in the trees around her, and by the time she began ascending the stairs to the porch, her heavy breathing had fallen in sync with the alien music.

There was a terrible smell coming from the house, like that of wasting fish and burned fat. And someone was crying. Soft piteous whimpers that turned into wails that escaped the cracks of the open windows. Winnie recognized the voice as Veronica Cooper---one of the field agents who had recently joined Project Palaemon. There were other voices, talking in soft, short sentences that she assumed were platitudes that would make the agent calm down, but she couldn’t quite make out the words. She did note, as she pulled on a pair of sterile gloves, that the attempts apparently failed. The crying only grew louder and more desperate. 

She opened the half cracked door and felt a hard lump form in her throat. When the stench hit her eyes they immediately began to burn in their sockets. Directly inside the doorway, a dead agent was lying prone on the floor, his face straight down in a puddle brown vomit streaked with blood that, upon further investigation, appeared to be his own. His body was covered in bites and scratch marks, his shirt was ripped away to reveal a bloated stomach, and in his still clenched fists he was clutching shards of glass. Winnie looked around, her headlamp only illuminating fractions of the hall at a time, each just as bloody and horrific as the scene in front of her. She determined he must be holding onto the remnants of a light fixture that had been ripped forcefully from the ceiling. Wires were hanging from the hole, and directly below, the metal fixture had been discarded---it’s lightbulbs torn out. Why? The shards were too small to use as weapons. Perhaps he’d been holding onto the light as he was being attacked? Possible. But…

From her bag she produced a tongue depressor as she knelt down by the body. Carefully, she pulled back his lips as best she could. Shards of glass glittered in the bright light of her head lamp. They were deeply embedded in his gums and crushed between his teeth. He’d been eating them when he died. That possibly explained the vomit. But what could possess a man to do something like that? 

“Doctor Fletcher?” A man’s voice called. An agent she didn’t know. She heard Cooper screech and then begin to violently sob. The old, thin floors shook as the vibrations from the other room carried down the hall. That same male agent swore, and there was a scraping sound of wood on wood as if someone had run into a table or a chair. She was going to have to make her assessment of the dead wait until she had dealt with the living.

Winnie carried on down the hall, gingerly stepping over and around everything she could. Blood was smeared along the peeling remnants of wallpaper. And there were no lights except for that which came from her flashlight. Fixtures were ripped out of the ceiling, and there was a lamp on the floor that had been violently shattered with three disembodied, mangled fingers laying in the wreckage. She passed the dining room, her light just barely illuminating three mutilated figures. Each with swollen stomachs and eyes that had been torn from their sockets. They had fallen close to the entryway, each with a single bullet hole in their heads. But she couldn’t stop to observe them the way she wanted to.

By the time she reached the living room, Cooper’s wailing was so loud it made her ears ring. There was no light at all coming from the doorway, and she frowned. Her confusion didn’t last long. The second she stepped into the room, headlamp blazing, Veronica Cooper began to screech and howl like a wild animal. She was handcuffed, but it still took two other agents to restrain her. They were trying to keep hold of her arms while a third agent was attempting to put a blanket over her completely nude upper half. 

“Will you cut that fucking lamp off?!” One of the agents hissed as Veronica bit into his arm like a rabid animal. Blood began to bubble out of the wound and dribble through Cooper’s parted lips before the third agent managed to forcibly pry her jaw off.

The doctor hesitated for a moment, needing to get at least a preliminary glance at the agent Cooper. She looked much like the dead bodies in the dining room. Her stomach was heavily bloated, and one of her eyes was missing from its socket. Claw marks and bites were all over her exposed upper body, and her hand was missing three fingers that Winnie assumed matched those she’d seen in the hall. 

She turned off the headlamp. 

Immediately Cooper went from a raving wild woman, to a crumpled, sobbing creature. When the blanket was brought back to her, she didn’t resist. At least not that Winnie could see. Granted, she couldn’t see much. The only light in the room came from a trickle of moonlight that snuck its way through the torn curtains.

“Agent Cooper.” The doctor stepped forward blindly. It didn’t draw any visible or audible response from the agent. “Agent Cooper, can you understand me? It’s Doctor Fletcher. Can you tell me what happened?”

No response.

One of the agents restraining her chimed in. “When we arrived at the house Agent Cooper and three others were alive. Cooper was in the hall, and we managed to restrain her. I heard crying coming from the downstairs bathroom. There was also gurgling and---running water. No one responded when I called out for them, but when I stepped into the room and they saw my headlamp, they started screaming. I ran, thinking I could calm them down or find some way to restrain them if I could get back to the other agents, but they pinned me down in the dining room, and Tillman and Renolds were forced to open fire. When the scene was secured we attempted to speak to Agent Cooper, but she was confused. She hasn’t said much aside from ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘please’ or ‘water.’”

She nodded and bit the inside of her cheek. “And the others? This was a seven man team. We’re missing two agents.”

“We searched the house and the two exterior buildings but they were clear. Best guess is when things got weird they bolted.”

 “Or they did this to them and fled the scene.” The man who had been bitten growled. He was holding onto Veronica with a vice grip now. She couldn’t see him properly, but the way the poor girl’s shoulder was awkwardly raised while the rest of her shadowy form slumped lifelessly toward the floor was proof of his tight hold on her. “We got a search team out in the forest looking for the-shit!”

Fletcher saw his shadow contort awkwardly as he tried to maintain his grip and distance himself from Veronica all at once.

“Jesus fuck-Renolds grab her. Grab her!” 

“What--why? You’ve-”

There was a thud as the agent dropped her completely and stepped back. “She’s licking the blood off my fucking arm!”

“Water.” Agent Cooper was hoarse from all her screaming, and there was desperation in her tone. The men shuffled awkwardly as Veronica attempted to get closer to the bleeding man again. “Please! Water!”

“Can’t you give her something?” 

“No.” Fletcher said, her response automatic. She wasn’t sure what was turning faster, her mind or her stomach. But she knew that they couldn’t give Veronica anything. Not yet. “There’s a medical transport outside parked behind me. They’ve been instructed on what to do, but ride with them back to HQ and help them keep her contained. Afterwards my staff will assess any injuries you have and release you back to your duties.”

There was a long silence.

She was glad it was dark. If her light was still on, she would have likely seen disgust on their faces. It was on hers. Here she was denying Veronica even the slightest semblance of peace. It was callous at best, and unforgivably monstrous at worst. But HDR 3-00-1 was one of the most bizarre drugs she’d ever worked with and these were their first human trials. Any drug, even a mild sedative, could interfere with accurate lab results. As soon as she’d been given a full examination, her team would give her the best care SHIELD could offer. Fletcher would make sure of it.

One of the men cleared his throat. “The search party will radio you directly if they find anything.”

The agents had to carry Veronica out of the house. She fought them all the way down the hall, but once she saw the light of the med-transport there was no containing her agonized screams. When her cuffs were released she began clawing at her own face, and when the agents pulled them away, she fought them like a wild animal. One of the med staff caught a foot in the jaw as they laid her onto the metal gurney and pulled the straps up to restrain her. Even after one of the men pulled off his jacket and draped it across her face to blot out the light, she continued to howl and buck against the restraints, nearly tipping the gurney onto the ground. The last thing she heard as they pulled the doors shut was Veronica Cooper’s raspy, haggard voice begging for water.

[ihatecoconut]

Perfect

Cross Posted to AO3

“Katherine wants to marry you.”

“Katherine wants to… what?”

“Marry you.”

Davey, rather than continuing their pattern of repeating things the other had said (which had been known to go on for a while) responded by staring at Jack, utterly baffled. Jack stared back earnestly. There was an odd feeling surfacing and settling itself low in Davey’s stomach.

“Why?”

“Oh!” Jack’s face brightened slightly, “Well you know how Pulitzer don’t approve of me?”

“You work for him.” Davey pointed out flatly, trying to process the fact that he was apparently going to get married to one of the loves of his life.

“Sure, but he don’t want me running around with his daughter.”

“I am not following you at all.”

“He approves of you!”

Davey pulled his cap off and ran a hand through his hair, “We’re both newsies, we’re both poor, I don’t-“

“Sure, sure, but you had an education and stuff, you know, you can make something of yourself!” The earnest expression was back on Jack’s face and he was gesturing pointlessly, as he normally did when he got himself worked up, and Davey would only ever admit it to himself but he found it so endearing when Jack did that.

There was another round of staring at each other, where Davey wasn’t sure if he should address Jack’s continuing self-deprecation or the matter at hand.

“I’ll talk to Katherine…”

Jack nodded brightly, “Good plan! She’s at work.”

“Wha- I didn’t mean right now.”

“Why not? No time like the present right?”

Davey laughed, even more confused than he had been in the face of Jack’s overwhelming enthusiasm, “I mean…”

“Seize the day, Davey!”

“Alright, alright… I’m going.”

Jack nodded, “I’ll see you back at the lodging house later?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Jack nodded again with the bright and hopeful expression that seemed totally out of place for the conversation they were having and jogged off in the other direction. Davey could hear him yelling made-up headlines even as he moved out of sight.

The Sun’s office was only a few minutes walk from the World’s distribution yard, so Davey turned, put his hat firmly back on his head and started out. Thankfully, both he and Jack had been there many times to see him, and the receptionist just waved him through with a friendly smile and no longer brought out a list of questions to ask them before they could get past the front desk.

Katherine had her own office on the second floor- by all accounts she was too junior to have her own office, but when she had started the male reporters hadn’t wanted her out on the floor with them, and nobody had moved her back out once they got comfortable with the idea. Davey knocked on the half open door, peering in to see her frowning down at her typewriter.

“Come in.” She called absent mindedly, not looking up until Davey firmly shut the door behind him. “Oh, David!”

“Hi Kathy.” He replied, smiling and opening his arms to accept the hug she got up to give him.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” she told him once they had separated, “you should have said something, we could have gone for lunch!”

“To be honest, I wasn’t expecting to be here today,” he laughed, the odd feeling that had surfaced when Jack had started talking finally settling, “Jack sent me.”

“Oh.” Katherine said, and the happy playful air of before was gone unexpectedly, she sat back down and waved a hand at the other chair. Davey took it, starting to worry.

“He, uh, he said you wanted to marry me.”

Katherine blinked at him, “He said what?”

“You wanted to marry me?”

She tipped her head back and laughed slightly, bringing a hand up to fiddle with one of her hair clips, “I don’t know why I let him do anything,” she said, smiling sympathetically.

“So, you don’t?”

“No! No, that’s not what I meant, I just…” she trailed off, looking at Davey as if he would provide the words she was looking for. Unfortunately for both of them, Davey was utterly lost,

“Kath, I’m not really sure what’s going on here, but maybe I should go.”

“No!” she jumped up, putting out an arm to stop him from moving. “Alright, look. Jack and I talked about this for a while and we decided we were going to do something today, but apparently we had different ideas about what to do.”

“Ok.” Davey said, because she had obviously left a pause for him to respond, but he had no idea what to say.

Katherine sat down again, suddenly, and pulled her chair forwards until their knees were touching. “Jack’s in love with you.”

Davey blinked at her.

“I’m in love with you too.”

They stared at each other, both hoping that the other would say something, so they didn’t have to.

“Kath…”

“And!” she continued, slightly desperately, “I think you’re in love with us as well, I’ve seen the way you look at Jack, and he says you look at me the same way.”

Davey blinked at her again, trying to process the sheer amount of unexpected information he was getting. Her eyes were wide and desperate as she stared at him, and at some point, she had taken one of his hands in both of her own.

“I am.” He found himself saying, “I am in love with both of you.”

She nodded, eyes still wide and desperate, but also tinged with a little bit of hope.

“What… what are we gonna do?” He continued, glancing down at their joined hands, and turning his over so they could actually hold hands.

She lunged forwards and kissed him.

It wasn’t the best kiss Davey had ever received considering it was a little messy, a little desperate and they were still clinging to each others’ hands like they were their only lifelines, but it was definitely above all the ones he had experienced as a little boy with the girls at the Synagogue. Katherine pulled back after a few seconds and her pupils were wide and dark, and it was the most beautiful Davey had ever seen her.

“Jack said Crutchie said we could have the penthouse tonight.” She told him breathlessly.

He nodded, “I’ll be there,”

Katherine smiled in response to that, wide and gorgeous. “I’ll see you then.”

They let go of each other then, although Davey would admit that his hand trailed on hers, and he got up to leave; behind him he could hear Katherine moving her chair back to its rightful position.

“So do you?” he found himself asking, hand on the doorknob,

“Do I what?”

“Want to marry me?”

She went an interesting shade of pink at that, and waved her hands at him. Davey let out a breathless laugh and walked out, leaving the door the same amount of ajar that it had been when he had come in.

*

“You,” Katherine began, hoisting herself up onto the penthouse, “are an idiot.”

Jack looked up from the sketch he was doing that looked a hell of a lot like her and Davey, and blinked innocently, “me?”

“Yes.” she continued, situating herself comfortably, leaning into his side so he knew that she wasn’t actually mad “I cannot believe that you told him that. More to the point, I cannot believe you told him that and he still said yes.”

Jack’s face broke out in the widest smile she thought she had ever seen, “he said yes?”

“Yes,” a third voice said, and Davey’s head peeked anxiously over the edge as he clambered up, “If that’s still alright?”

Jack laughed and lunged forwards in much the same manner Katherine had done earlier, only he pulled Davey fully onto the roof before he kissed him.

“It’s more than alright.” He said,

“It’s perfect.”

[gin-and-luce]

You killed our dog! Adriana of The Sopranos gave me strength to navigate life after a breakup during a global pandemic lockdown

I’m going through a breakup. It’s come at the worst time but also the best time. He ended things with me (more on that later) after three years in the most Beta-Male way...but this is what happens when your type can be boiled down to softboi. I can’t see my friends in the conventional way, so I made some new ones on screen to help me navigate the end during quarantine.

Over ten weeks ago I started watching The Sopranos. It doesn’t need justifying, everyone knows it’s the best television series of all time, but I’d never seen it, and I knew a global pandemic induced lockdown would provide optimum viewing circumstances. My favourite thing to do is completely throw myself into the female narrative and experience I’m watching on screen. I prefer a long deep drama over a film. I like being able to see my girls every night. 

People have said to me before “you should start a blog”, but I could never escape the feeling that doing so is massively narcissistic because it *is*, unless you have something actually relevant to write about. Alternatively, the image of Gretchen Weiners leaning in and going “you let it out honey, put it in the book” floats across my conscience, and everything embarrassing that I’ve ever done, plays in a montage in my mind. 

Who gives a fuck what I have to say about anything…….. especially about a cultural phenomena that is quite literally regarded as the best TV show of all time?

I’d been wanting to write this after I watched Long Term Parking. I lay in the dark for 45 minutes after the episode ended. I’d never felt like that watching a television show or film before. My throat had seized up but I didn’t cry, even though I felt like it. I knew it was coming from the moment Adriana met the agent. I wasn’t surprised, but I was heartbroken and absolutely fuming. I still am. 

I’m not angry with Christopher, Tony, or Silvio, but just the general unbalance I’ve felt when I’m in a relationship. The loss of self, relationships being a series of compromises. From what I have found from my own experiences and my girlfriends’, women are just much more willing to compromise, but don’t consider it to be a compromise. Men can only take into consideration their own reality, an evolutionary selfishness that just doesn’t translate. 

Just as lockdown began I texted my boyfriend to say I loved him and I missed him. He responded with “Can’t say I feel the same”. Nearly 3 years were over just like that. We had the obligatory phone call, where I was hysterical and he was smarmy and smug. Yet when it was over, I felt nothing. It’s allllll a big nothing.

My personal Gospel is Sex and The City (shout out to HBO!). This was my Berger moment. He essentially scribbled “I’m sorry, I can’t. Don’t hate me” on a post-it. The irony of the whole thing is that when we watched it together, he himself said he was most like Berger. Thinking about it makes me wince.

My life opened up in front of me, I was exposed to his weakness regarding the situation in full when his sister-in-law messaged me on Instagram a few days ago. He hadn’t told his family, nor had he told his flatmates (another shout out to my sleuths at the back, you know who you are!). 

The Sopranos is a show about life. The Mafia structure provides a vehicle for us to question morality and mortality. You take what you get from it. When I watch it again at a different stage of my life, I will get something else out of it. 

For me now, while I stew in my own emotion during quarantine, Adriana represents emotional labour and the expectation for women to behave in a certain way in relationships. 

At first when my ex’s family members were messaging me, I was confused. It is frankly humiliating to smile as if everything is normal, so as to protect someone that in the end would not do the same for me. I know he wouldn’t do the same because there was just no courtesy in what happened weeks ago. I am trying to move on but things like this stunt your personal growth.

The struggle with emotional labour hones a guilt that someday I’ll regret giving my early 20s to something that didn’t work out. I felt like I was on borrowed time.

These are obviously my own insecurities spurred on by the fact that I’ve read enough “10 things I wish I knew in my 20s” blogs to know that these are my selfish years. Still, it is ultimately devastating to see the last 3 years of your life conclude via a text that displays a failure to realise that there is no real clean cut for a long-term relationship. 

I respect him for the blunt statement because it means I get to reference the Berger SATC breakup and say “casually cruel in the name of being honest” (Taylor Swift, 2012) a LOT, which softens the pity in the social scenarios that I invent in my head in the shower.

When Tony calls Adriana to tell her Christopher has tried to kill himself, that was like my final phone call too. This is the end. Her youthfulness was why I related to her most in the show, but at the same time having nothing to lose made her easily expendable. Youth makes you put 100% into something knowing it is a gamble. 

I’m not comparing my ‘borrowed time’ to Adriana because she ends up dead, but there was a disregard for her life that was so harrowing because she did nothing but try and do the right thing. I watched Adriana put Christopher first willingly for 5 series. He supported her music management dreams but ultimately ended up making it all about him. He gave her the Crazy Horse but this ultimately was just another mob hangout. He sat on her dog, he continued to use heroin, shag other people, and so on.

“You could start writing again,” she tells him in her last episode, to which he responds  “I could do my memoirs, finally,”. Here is Adriana still!! STILL!! catering to Christopher’s ego to give herself some confidence. Very me.

All the way through she was just too good for him. Her ties to the Famiglia aren’t as tight as Carmela and Co. No children, still young, there’s chance for Adriana to get out if she wanted to. Of course this makes her prime FBl bait, but shows she sticks by Christopher through everything purely out of love. In the end she dies on her knees, subservient, with Heart’s Barracuda the last song she hears. I know Adriana had to go. That’s the way it is in the Famiglia because Christopher took an oath. But in a way she also had the carpet ripped from underneath her, just like me. 

There are lots of men writing on the internet about how Adriana is greedy and hypocritical. I just don’t understand where this reading is coming from other than obvious misogyny. I’ve read others that say if she was really that strong she would have simply left the relationship years ago. I believe that she believed things would improve for both of them, and that most people are just slut shaming her for her past. 

Still, Drea DeMatteo won a Best Supporting Actress Emmy for the episode. Fuckin’ A. 

I rooted for the woman. Before I was made redundant while working from home, I would spend half my life at my desk willing it to be 5:30pm, so I could slither back to the settee and spend the other half of my life in New Jersey. I’d phone my mum to discuss the episodes. She loves the show too, it’s always been a favourite in my household. We’d talk about the women like they were our friends and how we relate to them. The Sopranos is like a big mirror urging you to question everything. The answer to life is simply what are ya gonna do? 

Men love making things black and white so it is easier for them, when really women are in the background sorting out the shades of grey. 

Don’t get me wrong, Adriana’s significance is massive, albeit more so because of her death. You watch Christopher and Tony’s relationship start to crumble afterwards. It's shattering to see the disregard for Christopher’s sobriety and how despite his loyalty, he still sees him as a liability and weak. 

On the other hand, for Adriana’s sake, I am still enraged that he couldn’t see the bigger picture at the time. She is collateral damage in his path to finding his precious arc - “Wives, girlfriends, they can complicate life in a major way” Tony expresses to Jennifer as he runs from his own guilt. 

Christopher is desperate for Tony’s approval but is more than happy to use his blood connection as a protective leeway whenever he steps out of line. Again the irony is that he comes to tell Tony about Adriana first, just as the old Famiglia values say he should, but there is no real personal reward for doing so despite the personal sacrifice. 

I think Christopher regretted it in the end, and rightly so. When he is faced with his potential alternate life at the gas station, we assume that this was what made him go to Tony. It’s a family with loads of kids. Adriana probably can’t even have kids??? What kind of male logic?!  #justiceforadriana

I can’t help but feel for him when JT screams “Chris, you’re in the MAFIA!”. It’s the same kind of reality check that Chief Cubitoso gives Adriana, it’s an ultimatum and it’s the realisation that they are trapped in this life. Just ask Gene.

Carmela knew. I read her dreams as a testament to a woman’s intuition. She knows her friend isn’t what everyone is describing, she knows Adriana wouldn’t just disappear. She is all too aware of the emotional labour Mob women carry. When she sees Adriana with Cosette on the banks of the Seine, it is as sad as it is when we dream about people who have died. 

There is a scene in an early episode where Carmela says “Don’t we all?” in response to Meadow squealing “She’s MARRYING a BABY?” at a painting of The Marriage of Saint Catherine. I thought about this again when Christopher dies. Carmela passes her instinct off as hysteria, she isn’t to know. “So quick to blame, what is the attraction in that?” she cries during the aftermath of the car crash. There is a critique in her own femininity here that just makes you want to shout “NO CARM!!!!!!!”. As she believes she mothers Tony, there is the double-edged sword whereby he protects her through keeping her in the dark. “Heaven only ever sees my love making a fool of me” sings Emmylou Harris at the start of season 5. Carm’s power is taken away but she doesn’t even know. 

Carmela dedicates her life to being a mother but it’s not enough to save Meadow from her surname. We get some sense that AJ ‘Break Stuff by Limp Bizkit’ Soprano might be on a new path when he feels like the burning of his car among the autumn leaves of death was cathartic. As a man, he just has more freedom anyway. 

Miss Meadow gained her independence by getting her driving license, but in the end we see that she is still held back in the final scene by her inability to parallel park. She slots right in, eventually. As she does, she slots into the Soprano cycle after years of doing the most to get out and pave her own way. After every breakup with someone without links to the Famiglia, no scrubs, she returns and dates someone closer to home. Her career path is left tenuous to us, it would be all too easy for her to become a kept woman, which feels like it is the only real option should she settle down into the lifestyle with Patrick Parisi. It isn’t what she envisioned for herself, so part of me wants to hope that her story ends up a little bit more like Elle Woods. Legally Italian. 

I probably wouldn’t even have remembered her saying anything about parallel parking if I wasn’t terrible at parallel parking myself. It’s the pepperings of these subtle callbacks that make the show so beautiful. As the guitar solo plays on during the frustration, you’re invited to reminisce over Meadow’s journey. I fully wept watching her struggle to get the damn car parked because I’m trying to get my car parked too. Don’t stop believing, Meadow. 

I admire all the women in The Sopranos. The show is feminist, and that is a hill I am prepared to die on. It’s definitely up for debate as it is obviously littered with gratuitous nudity and women are commoditised. We have to allow this for cultural context for the show, but real life is basically exactly the same too? 

I read a post on Reddit where a dude is asking whether he should watch the show with his girlfriend. He types ‘“It’s a masterpiece of film but she probably wouldn’t get into it as I am”, and you don’t have to look much further to find more comments about how women and their puny minds just won’t get it. It’s an odd perspective to take given that Tony’s psychiatrist is a woman, but of course women could never grasp something so complex. It’s bullshit if you ask me, the female narrative prevails throughout all scenarios. 

The Pine Barrens seems to be everyone’s favourite episode. It’s not my favourite but there are two major elements that resonated with me. The first is Meadow looking down at the three letter words Jackie Aprile Jr had placed on the Scrabble board, and the second is when Gloria says to Tony:

“What you said was that you didn’t wanna piss me off..which implies that you’d have to deal with me, which is more about sparing YOU than my fucking feelings”. Don’t need to elaborate on that. Rest in power, Gloria. Legend.

Of course I could write pages and pages of hot feminist takes on all of the women - Jennifer, Janice, Livia, Angie, Svetlana, Charmaine. Lord knows I could probably write a book on Tracee.“ 20 years old, this girl”, I bashed Living on a Thin Line by The Kinks for about a week after that episode. It is the male gaze of the show made me love the women more. Carmela is my mother and I’ll probably name my first born Meadow. 

Carmela is the powerhouse and backbone of The Soprano household even though Tony provides. She represents stability, emotional labour, and putting on a brave face regardless. In some ways, it is as if Carmela represents the human emotion side and the fragility of organised crime. She is secure, but not enough, and her lack of ability to stand on her own two feet plagues her conscience through time. She is totally complicit, but must be to ensure her future with Tony as he pays anything to roll the dice just one more time. At the end of Long Term Parking, she and Tony stand looking at where she will build her spec-house. The forest looks the same as where we lost Ade, it’s a grim reflection that Carmela wouldn’t have this life if it wasn’t for the quick disposal of those like Adriana.   

Yeah okay, what the hell is a show with a feminist underpinning trying to say about wider society about a woman who exercises her beauty, loyalty and ambition?? Is it that she is not to be trusted?? Adriana’s a rat, but before this she is already deemed “damaged goods” anyway. She dresses provocatively, but that’s because she just looks MINT always. You would dress like THAT if you looked like THAT. When you Google her, ‘Adriana Sopranos Tennis’ comes up. I roll my eyes. Fucking men, eh? To take it down to a basic Sixth-Form-Poet reading, Adriana is Curley’s Wife and Daisy Buchanan all in one. She loves a red manicure too, and it might have worked out better for her if she had played the complicit beautiful little fool. 

This isn’t ‘Why The Sopranos is good!’, but a love letter to Adriana and her strength, because there is basically little or no content written on the women of the show when I have Googled.  I needed there to be more things written about her that isn’t just “bitch had it coming” when in fact she is a martyr. 

When Adriana was on screen, there was my mate. I knew her, she wanted what I wanted, but she sacrificed so much of herself for others and it was heartbreaking to watch. She barely gets a look-in in early episodes, but when she does she is usually wearing something animal print, which automatically made her the number one character on my radar. I am choosing to believe the theory that she is the cat in the final episode too. 

Still, I have been struggling and questioning why an episode that aired 16 years ago, with no plot that links to my own circumstances, has had such a monumental impact on me. 

I saw a tweet that said “have we ever sat down and thought about why relationships only work if the guy is more invested than the girl or is that just something we accept” (@anugov1). Adriana invested more in Christopher, even in the end, than she ever did herself. 

As I navigate this transitional period in my life, I am Adriana driving in the vision we see when we think she is going to start her new chapter. We can’t leave the flat, I have no job. The Sopranos has provided the most cathartic escapism for me. As I enter into whatever new world follows this nightmare, I wanted my mate Adriana to find her new world too, turning the classic rock up to 11.