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hockeywhy · 4 years

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caught in the middle (1); m. barzal

SYNOPSIS: For the sake of your friend’s wedding with Tito, you and Mat agree to maintain the facade of still being the happy couple everyone sees you as. But the act comes with its consequences, one more taxing than the other. WARNINGS: language. WORD COUNT: 11.2k A/N: I am so excited for this because it contains some of the tropes I enjoy seeing in fics, and I was dying to also put out some new content as opposed to only reposting my old writing. I wish I wrote this when I was still decent at doing the thing, but I hope that this is still an enjoyable read that makes you look forward to the next part! Title is based off Alexander 23′s Caught in the Middle which is such a good song and I really recommend. Sections in italics represent flashbacks.

PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

“We’re getting married!”

You gasped, bringing both hands to cover the lower half of your face as your jaw dropped at the announcement. It shouldn’t be so surprising – you would’ve bet even your most prized possession that this was bound to happen at some point eventually – but knowing this was actually now a sure thing sent a thrill through you. It didn’t take long for the shock to wear off and in place of it, your expression mirrored that of your best friend’s: the wide grin, the bright eyes and of course, the giggles of sheer excitement as soon as the news sunk in. Elise was glowing and next to her, Tito embodied the idea of what the world’s proudest man would look like.

“Oh my god!” you gasped, and Elise burst into laughter, not hesitating to jump out of her seat at the same time you did so that the two of you could embrace. Among your squeals and giggles, you could faintly make out the sound of hands being clapped, then caught sight of Mat and Tito hugging. Over Elise’s shoulder and over Tito’s, you and Mat exchanged smiles and you couldn’t help the chuckle that left your mouth as soon as he winked at you. “Congratulations!” you said as soon as you broke apart, though the two of you still held hands. Immediately, your gaze fell down to her hand where a ring now rested, and you couldn’t help but wonder how you hadn’t taken notice of it earlier. “Just—when? How? Where? Who else knows?”

“We don’t have a date or venue set yet, but we wanted you and Mat to be the first to know,” Elise informed you as soon as you took your seats again.

“We have a favour to ask from both of you,” Tito supplied. As soon as he said it, you felt Mat’s hand wrap around your own and the two of you exchanged a brief look during which he squeezed your hand gently, before diverting your attentions back to the soon-to-be newlyweds.

Newlyweds. The immensity of the word sent a discrete shiver down your spine.

“I can’t imagine asking this of anyone else: I want you to be my best man,” Tito directed at Mat.

“You shouldn’t even think of asking this of anyone else,” Mat responded immediately, and the two shook hands on it. You couldn’t help but think that if they weren’t as comfortable as they were now, they’d probably hug again, do their typical pats on the back or fist bump as they usually did, but Elise’s head now rested on Tito’s shoulder and Mat’s hand was so warm, so firm atop your own.

“Be my maid of honour, please?” Elise asked. “I can’t think of anyone more suitable than you and Mat as best man and maid of honour. We’ll return the favour of course,” she added playfully.

“I’ll hold you to that,” you warned without hesitating because after all, you had no reason to – and you knew Mat would agree with you.

Although the two of you hadn’t touched on the subject yet, there was an unvoiced knowledge shared between you that eventually, this would also be you. Eventually, Mat would ask you and your heart would grow and your soul would warm, and you would say yes. Yes, yes, yes.

As you all settled down to hear a replay of how Tito popped the question and Elise accepted the ring, Mat’s thumb began caressing the back of your hand. Though the gesture wasn’t a novelty, you couldn’t help but take notice of the way your heart fluttered each time he seemed to linger more on your ring finger. It wasn’t difficult to imagine a ring wrapped around it but neither of you were in a rush: you simply waited for the right time to take your relationship to a point in which it would become a forever thing, fully confident it wasn’t a question of ‘if’ but rather, ‘when’.

This was anything but the right time.

You frown as you cast a glance down at the phone resting on your lap, eyes narrowing a little at the name which brought the display to life for the second time in the space of less than a minute. You click the side button twice, silencing the vibrations of it and from your side, your colleague leans in to whisper to you.

“You can take it if it’s urgent. I’ll fill you in afterwards.”

“Thanks,” you whisper back. “I think it can wait until the meeting wraps up though.”

Luke gives you a well, if you’re sure look as he leaned back in his chair and you flash him a grateful smile.

Still, it is difficult for you to settle comfortably in your seat again and much to your chagrin, you find yourself crossing and uncrossing your legs as if the call had sent some sort of signal to your entire body kickstarting jitteriness you can honestly do without. Not long after you find some comfort and energy to draw yourself back to the present, your phone buzzes again – only once this time, indicating a message.

I’m waiting for you in the lobby.

Fuck, you curse inwardly, locking the phone in frustration. As quietly as you can, you gather your notebook and work tablet then lean in towards Luke who met you halfway. “Have to run but let me know if I miss anything important.”

“At the current rate, I wouldn’t count much on it but will do anyway,” he states as quietly as he can and the two of you exchange sly, conspiratorial smiles before you excuse yourself quickly and very quietly while making a swift exit.

Internally, a string of curses follow without a break in between, and you have to physically bite down on your lip out of sheer fear one might unconsciously slip out. If anyone would be in your shoes, though, they wouldn’t blame you for it. You are the type of person to stick closely to any plans and agreements made, so the fact that he just chose to turn up so unexpectedly doesn’t sit right with you. Not anymore, that is. Besides, you had both agreed to do this after your workday ended as opposed to midday and definitely not in this place. Now, you have to brace yourself for coping with a foul mood on top of whatever else the rest of the day would throw at you.

“You’ve got a visitor,” Rachel announces quietly in a sing-song voice from behind the reception desk as you approach. She doesn’t bother masking the giddiness in her tone and you struggle to work up as genuine of a smile as you can when she nods her head towards the waiting area.

“Thanks, Rach.”

“Bet he must be so happy your redeployment to the Baltimore offices was cut short so quickly,” she coos.

“Sure is. We’re still on for tonight?” you ask quickly in an attempt to drive attention away from the subject before she can try to lead into it too far for your own comfort at the moment.

Rachel’s smile falters a little, her expression somewhat quizzical. “Don’t you want to postpone so you could spend some time with him? You only just got back yesterday, after all.”

You swallow uncomfortably before shrugging. “We’ve got plenty of time to do that. So tonight, okay? I’ll catch you later.”

“Your call. See you then, Y/N!”

You only had just a split second to brace yourself for what is ahead of you, so you draw in a breath then slowly exhale it as discreetly as you can while cutting your way across the lobby. Since agreeing to this meeting, you prepared yourself as best as you could, imagining every single scenario and devising the appropriate plan for it: from the way you presented yourself to what you said, you had a mental plan for everything including a few backups just in case. The only thing you hadn’t factored in, apparently, was how little was under your control and you hated that. Each step you take made you feel less and less prepared for what is ahead, and the thought rattles you. If you were swift enough on your feet, you could just about make a quick turn and dip into the hallway leading to the visitor restrooms. All you need is just a few more seconds. A little alone time for you to run over your lines in your head.

Except—

Mat looks up at the same time you take a step sideways, ready to bolt towards temporary safety. His eyebrows rise a little as if surprised by the sight of you, but you refuse to appear outwardly deflated by the turn of events. Instead, you square your shoulders, tip your head back a little and arch an eyebrow. You can do this. You note he is dressed casually, and his hair is pushed back underneath a black cap.

Unless there was a change in schedule, Thursdays were scrimmage days.

Your jaw clenches ever so slightly as you recall that with so much ease. Then again, you basically built up a collection of information that was practically helpful or useful to exactly no one over the course of the past few years. It’ll probably take just as much or maybe more to replace that with something different, so you try cutting yourself some slack whenever you are willing to.

“I thought we agreed on five thirty,” you state coolly, pitching your voice at just the right tone to also express surprise.

Mat pushes up from the armchair, returning whatever magazine he’d picked up back on the nearby glass table. “Sorry, I tried calling earlier this morning to ask if we can reschedule but it went straight to voicemail.”

Oh. You mentally curse yourself for not charging your phone as soon as you made it home from the airport the previous night or bothering to check the voicemail message you’d been notified of once it did begin charging earlier this morning at your desk.

“They rescheduled the viewing of the new arena for this evening, and I was in the area, so I thought I’ll drop by just in case,” Mat continues, throwing a cursory glance around the place though to you, it seemed more like a way of having a break from the eye contact. You don’t complain; you welcome that.

You open your mouth, ready to berate his poor timing but even you could admit you carry some fault here too. Only a little. You bite down lightly on the tip of your tongue, before nodding towards the seats though you didn’t wait for Mat; you sit, deciding he could make up his own mind if he wanted to follow or not.

“How was Baltimore?” he asks after a few moments of awkward silence while settling in the same armchair he previously occupied.

“Mat,” you say, hoping it comes across as more of a warning than a plea. You can’t deal with small talk and a part of you thinks that’d make the entire deal even more difficult to go through with. He presses his lips together into a thin line and you take that as your sign to continue. “Elise told me she’d like us to be at the venue a day in advance of the rehearsal dinner if we can. I’ve already arranged my leave for that, so it’s not a problem for me. I’m planning on making my way there sometime tomorrow afternoon.”

“We can go together then. I can pick you up after work.”

“There’s no need—”

“Y/N.” The sharpness of his tone catches you off guard and you can swear Mat was equally surprised by that, though only for the briefest of moments. He slides forward a little in the seat almost as if he is more than ready to leave but Mat has never been one to back down so easily and you doubt any of that changed during the course of the past three months or so. “You were the one who insisted we go through with this and I’m trying. I really am, but you’re not giving me anything to work with. So please. Let’s just put everything to the side, do what we need to do and then it’s done.”

Done. Like it is a task, like it is something you needed to cross off a to-do list, scrunch it up then trash it.

The finality of the word is so heavy that it feels as if it had managed to knock out all the air in your lungs. You and Mat were running headfirst towards a fork in the road, and deep down you knew that was truly it. If until now the two of you have been dancing around each other, playing pretend as if you were kids living in a world of fantasy, you know that eventually, you have to let light shine on the truth: whatever lay ahead, you and Mat could no longer walk the same paths. It is just a matter of admitting it not only to yourselves, but also to the people you were lying to.

Lying for, you prefer.

Defeated, you slump in your own seat a little, legs crossing and fingers tapping lightly against the back of your notebook. “Be at my place by two. I’ll have everything that I need ready the night before so we won’t need to wait around.” A pause, and then, “how’s Tito?”

Mat lifts a shoulder in a casual shrug. “Excited. Nervous. It’s the only thing he talks about in the locker, outside of it, on ice and off ice. How’s Elise?”

“Same deal with her. I never knew there were so many shades of blue before, but I’ve been proven wrong before.”

A pause follows that could easily be attributed to the group of people rushing into the building and allowing noise from the street outside to filter in while the doors were kept open, but you can tell there is more to it than that if you are to go by the shift in Mat’s expression. His expression changes and you find you can’t quite read into it or guess what could be going on through his head. You try not to focus much on the little voice inside your mind that was bothered by it but find it takes a considerable amount of effort to do so. Force of habit, you conclude.

“You don’t say,” Mat finally responds. There is a hint of accusation in his tone. Or regret. Maybe both.

Your lips press together firmly, a light frown forming on your face but chose to let that slide. Not only is the lobby of your workplace the least suitable place to have an argument about the two of you, but you find that even those short moments of seeing Mat face to face months after you called it quits appears to take a toll on you. You feel tired, worn out and willing to be the first one to back down for once.

It is cruel irony that a big red neon EXIT sign is visible from the corner of your eye.

You release a quiet, long sigh then stand up from the seat. “Well, I guess we’re done here? I do have another meeting to prepare for, so…” You trail off, already backing away a few steps.

Mat opens his mouth as if ready to say something else but promptly presses his lips together, deciding against it. He gives a swift nod of his head then stands up. It’s then you notice the two Styrofoam cups in front of him and the neon EXIT sign imprinted in your mind starts flashing temptingly at you. Mat is a step ahead. He holds out one of the cups towards you and you are ready to tell him off for it, but he cut in.

“Thought I wouldn’t drop by empty handed.” When you don’t make a move to accept it, his eyes briefly peek behind you. “Rachel’s all eyes this way, by the way,” he informs you and a brief glance over your shoulder confirms Mat hasn’t been lying.

As soon as you turn to look towards the reception desk, Rachel grins, waves quickly at you then turns back to her computer screen. Begrudgingly, you accept the cup of coffee and force a tight smile.

“See you soon,” you say by way of greeting and didn’t wait to hear a response from Mat.

It isn’t until you scan your pass to cross the security barriers and make a turn out of sight that you take a sip from the drink and almost immediately wish you didn’t. It’s your order to a T. The two of you even brought a coffee machine that would let you replicate it on days when you didn’t feel like leaving the comforts of your apartment, especially days when Mat didn’t need to get up early for practices or scrimmages or evening games. It stayed with Mat when you left and the memory left a bitter taste in your mouth, despite the gentle sweetness of the beverage.

Without thinking twice, you throw the cup in the nearest trash can.

As soon as your order is set on the table, you ignore the basket of fries and reach straight for your glass to take a long sip from the straw, letting out a content sigh as soon as you felt satiated enough.

“Long day,” you state in response to Rachel’s raised eyebrows but she seems to accept that by raising her own glass. You clink yours against hers, take a smaller sip then set it back down on the table. “What time do you think you’ll make it over to the hotel?”

“Well, I was thinking of trying to get there by midday on the day of the rehearsal dinner but it’s starting to look more like late afternoon. I’m…” She trails off, and you can just about pick up on her hesitation and the way her gaze shifts over to the side momentarily as if avoiding something or considering whether to continue that. You move in your seat, peeling your back away from the plush backrest to lean in a little closer.

“You’re…” you trail off, voice peaking just a little into a question in an attempt to prompt her to continue.

Rachel takes a deep breath in, shoulders visibly drooping and when she looked back at you, she did so with a look that could only reflect…shame? Embarrassment?

“Luke and I are sort of thinking of coming along together.” At the sight of your widened eyes, she quickly adds, “just as friends! We’re still working out through a few things and we’re taking it slow. As in, much, much slower than the first time around.”

“No way! That’s… Rach, that’s so good. I’m happy for you both, seriously.”

You find that you truly believed that, though it wasn’t a surprise to you. You had introduced Rachel to Luke while she visited you in Baltimore and at the time, he worked with you there also. Initially, you didn’t think much of it - you simply invited her to come along to a few after work drinks and the two kicked it off easily that night. Very easily apparently, because as the night started coming to an end, Rachel prompted you to go ahead without her. Ready to say you weren’t going to leave her own her own, you shortly found out exactly why: you watched with plenty of amusement and fascination as she and Luke climbed into a taxi together and whizzed off to his place, undoubtedly. That was pretty much their start and continuation. Her visits to Baltimore were more frequent and though you were seeing her often enough, it definitely wasn’t as much as Luke saw of her. And you were fine with that. They fit almost perfectly and it only took a few more meetings for them to label themselves as a couple.

Things began crumbling as soon as Luke had moved to the New York office just a few weeks before your own return. While he seemed fine with the idea of Rachel working in the same place, that wasn’t also her take on things.

“It’s weird,” she told you through the phone. “It just… It’s so weird. I’d be seeing him at my place or his and in the office? No thanks. That’s way too much for me, you know?”

It made sense, of course, and though you rooted for them, you didn’t want to push her into something she wasn’t comfortable with. Yet, there was a tremble to her voice, a sort of uncertainty that made you think otherwise. It wasn’t that Rachel didn’t have any feelings for him - maybe she was simply shocked to see him walk through those glass doors one morning to pick up his brand new ID and claim what would soon become his permanent desk across from yours.

“Thanks,” she tells you, pulling you back into the present. “But like I said, slow and easy does it. We’ve been talking more and that makes a huge difference.”

“For sure. If communication isn’t the backbone of a relationship, I don’t know what is,” you agree and wasn’t that ironic? You’re hardly in the position of giving any relationship advice at all or saying what is good for one and what isn’t. Not anymore. Not when your own had fallen apart.

Rachel grins. “You’d know. You and Mat have been together for… how long now?”

You should’ve seen it coming a mile away. You swallow uncomfortably, take another sip of your drink and take a few fries just to buy yourself a little more time. “Maybe four years? Don’t really keep track of that anymore,” you said as casually as you could muster, lifting your shoulders in a shrug.

“I think I’d stop doing that eventually too at the rate you two are going. Honestly, I would’ve bet anything you would’ve been the first to tie the knot. Actually, thinking about it,” she says, clicking her fingers in recollection, “Elise said the same thing to me the other day when we caught up on the phone. She went—“

You don’t really register her words. There is a low ringing in your ears and an uncomfortable draft sweeps in the locale as the entrance door somewhere behind you is being kept open, no doubt a large group making their way in; it sends shivers down your body, but really, you are pretty sure you can’t only attribute them to a brief gust of wind. After all, your sweater is keeping you sufficiently cosy and warm. In front of you, Rachel continues praising your relationship with Mat, talking about how anyone took a look at you both and would say, whatever they have going, I want it too and you are trying so, so hard to block out as much as you can of it. You can stop her, of course; distract her with whatever random topic and you know she’d go with it but your jaw is locked in place, teeth clenched uncomfortably. You blame that and the way your nails dig into the palms of your hands on the sting behind your eyes and the sudden heaviness weighting down on your chest.

It isn’t so much the pain of your relationship ending that was rendering you in a state of daze, but the shame of what you and Mat agreed to do: pretend the two of you were still the happy couple Elise, Tito and everyone else thought of you as just to not spoil whatever luck they thought you’d be passing on to them by being their main witnesses. And then, once the event passes and they would return to New York from the honeymoon you and Mat would soon gift to them on their wedding day, you’d tell them the truth. Or part of it anyway. Definitely no mentions that the two of you were childish enough to play pretend; just a simple, clean break timed just perfectly with your request to be permanently redeployed elsewhere. Preferably, as far from New York City as possible so that you no longer have to walk the streets you once both did or yearn to once again visit that perfect pie place the two of you once dubbed your own.

“We’re not together anymore.”

The words stumble out of your mouth in a desperate now or never manner. Despite the anxiousness that came with the act, you find relief in it also. It feels freeing to be able to admit the truth to someone that isn’t only yourself though perhaps you should’ve thought of this more carefully: the idea of now needing to come fully clean to Rachel is somewhat daunting, mostly because of what she might say in response to the front you and Mat are trying to uphold. But for the first time in what feels like too long, you no longer feel like a fraud; like a person lying to everyone around them.

“Wait.” Rachel frowns, and it was obvious she doesn’t quite know what to do with that information or how to best process it. Her head tilts a little, palm idly rubbing against the side of her neck so you take the initiative to come across as unbothered by this as possible by leaning into the seat, legs crossing as you fiddled with the drink’s straw. “What? I’m confused. Didn’t Mat just drop by earlier? You two seemed okay. He was…fine when he came in. We didn’t talk much, sure, but he was all smiley and just…normal.”

You laugh quietly and shortly. “It’s been a while now. Maybe two or three weeks before I left for Baltimore, I think. It’d be pretty worrying if he was still hung up about it. After all, we both agreed on it. And this,” you add, a little more disheartened and embarrassed. “This…thing we’re doing. We promised Tito and Elise we’ll be there for them on their big day and we will. But they had this… I guess, idea of us being an ideal couple. Whatever that is,” you continue more quietly and with a roll of your eyes. “He wanted to tell Tito, but I didn’t want to spoil Elise’s day, you know? So he agreed. Took some convincing because it feels so… Gosh, it sounds so stupid, doesn’t it? Pretending we’re still together just to spread some fake cheer around.”

“Oh, honey…” Rachel whispers and you read the sympathy in her voice. Not that she makes it particularly difficult to take note of. “But… I thought everything was okay. Actually, way more than okay. Perfect, even. What…uh—“ She trailed off awkwardly, but you could easily fill in that gap.

What happened?

You bring the beverage to your mouth, this time drinking from the glass directly as opposed to using the straw. The mixer stings your throat this time around but the small ice cube you take into your mouth numbs it away pretty quickly. Slowly, you chew it to small pieces and speak only when you finish it.

“I thought long and hard about this the first few weeks after we called it quits,” you admit. “We always talked about what bothered us or if there was something on our mind, but at one point we just… We stopped wanting to compromise. When I was put forward for Baltimore, it was going to be a permanent thing. Mat was happy, sure, but I could tell he wasn’t being entirely honest with me, you know? When I called him out on it, he asked me well what about us? And I said we’d be fine. Baltimore isn’t a different continent. It’s not even a different timezone. He could come over when he had free time and if he didn’t, I’d always spend weekends in New York anyway. It’s Baltimore, Rach. Not fucking San Francisco or whatever. Eventually, he told me exactly what was on his mind: he couldn’t do long distance. Not even for a short period of time while I figured out if Baltimore is really what I wanted. Isn’t it a bit hypocritical, though?” You question, but it’s clear Rachel feels a bit awkward about giving her take on it right now, so you make it easier for her by responding to your own question. “I felt lonely too when he was on the road. I was worried he’d find someone different, someone much better while away. He never gave me a reason to doubt him, but a small part of me still thought what if. This happened right before he was on the road again, actually. We didn’t call, barely even texted those weeks and then when he returned, we decided it’d be best to break up. Didn’t take us a long discussion to get to that conclusion because at that point, it just… I don’t know. It felt like we didn’t have much to say to each other.”

Rachel presses her lips together, the frown still on her face and hesitantly, she asks, “who said it first?”

“I did,” you respond without hesitating. “He wanted a break while we work it all out but come on, Rach, a break? Look me in the eyes and tell me people really believe in breaks and they come back to each other as if nothing happened.”

“I mean…” she trails off, pointing at herself by way of explanation. “Look at me and Luke, I guess.”

You shake your head. “Nope. Not the same thing, trust me. This was for the best, Rach. It’s much neater to call it quits. That way, neither of us will feel obliged to hold back if life puts something different ahead of us.” You pause for a moment, teeth biting into your lower lip. “They said they’ll always have me back there if I decide on it, so who knows. Once I wrap up the project their called me back for, I might just take them up on it. Not quite a promotion, but it’ll be a good sidestep and maybe a change of scenery is what I need.”

“And do you think it’s good? What the two of you are doing right now?” Rachel questions, not at all deterred by your weak attempt at trying to divert conversation to a more work related topic. “And I don’t mean it just for Elise and Tito’s wedding, but for you and Mat generally speaking. I mean… the two of you have been together for a pretty long time. Doesn’t it… Isn’t it odd?”

“It’s not normal, that’s for sure,” you confirm. “But it’d be weirder for everyone if we were to tell them we’re no longer together given we’ve been asked to do what we need to do. Rach, promise me this stays between us, okay? Promise. I know how it sounds, I know how it’ll look but trust me on this, okay?”

She fixes you with a sceptical stare, a look that holds yet more questions than certainty but eventually, she nods her head and relief washes over you at the gesture. “I’m sorry it happened, Y/N,” she offers, voice warm and sympathetic as she places a hand on the table palm up. “And I’m sorry you went through it alone.”

You smile softly and reach for it, returning the squeeze she gives you. There is comfort in the gesture, comfort in her words and you find yourself rooting for it, so grateful to have received it. “The worst part is over, but thank you, Rachel. “It means a lot.”

“Feel like carpooling with Luke and I?”

“I’m good,” you assure as you both relax back into your seats. “Elise wants us there the day before the rehearsal. I guess just to have some familiar faces around that aren’t just wedding planners, so Mat and I agreed to go together tomorrow. Promise I won’t lose my shit if our song plays on the radio,” you add jokingly and find yourself laughing along with Rachel.

“What song’s that?”

Too many, you think, although one in particular stands out to you. “Brett Young’s In Case You Didn’t Know.”

A tray containing an assortment of dishes is set on the table and shortly after, an ice cold pitch of sangria accompanies that. Eager to cool down, you reach for one of the empty glasses to pour yourself a drink but Mat’s quicker. He takes them both, filling your glass first before his own. You laugh to yourself and Mat grins at that, briefly looking towards you as he fills his glass. You’re about to take a sip, eager to both quench your thirst and cool down but Mat takes the initiative of initiating a toast by raising his glass a little, elbow resting on the table.

“What’re we toasting for tonight?” You ask, imitating his pose by leaning forward a little. “To our first holiday together? To how perfect the weather’s been so far? To how I mastered paddle boarding way before you did?”

Mat laughs, lowering his head as he did so but when he looked back up at you, he clinked his glass against yours and held it there. “To all of that. To one of the many, many holidays we’ll have together. To this moment right here, to us, to you.” He pauses and the strobe lights of the bar switch from dark blue to hot pink, and the way Mat stares at you in this moment makes your heart race inexplicably. “To how much I love you.”

He takes your breath away. Draws it right out of your lungs and you feel heady. It’s the first summer with Mat, the first I love you from him and it suddenly feels as if this bar is too small for the both of you. You love him, and he loves you too and the only thing you could imagine doing is jumping in his arms but there’s a table between you and sangria topped wine glasses in your hands, and he’s wearing a pristine white shirt that looks incredible against his tanned skinned and there’s a lot of people around (the majority significantly older than both your age and Mat’s combined) so you simply grin and carefully lean forward more, pressing a kiss to his mouth.

“I love you,” you murmur against his lips and even if your voice is low compared to the loud, cheesy country music blasting through hidden stereos, you know Mat catches on to that.

“I love you,” he says right back and before you pull away, he bumps his nose against yours gently, making you giggle.

You both take a sip of your drinks and you smack your lips together, content with the turn of the night.

You and Mat had been dating for a few months, but this was the first time the two of you will spend back to back nights and days together without needing to rush somewhere. Of course, a part of you was anxious about it - while it was easy to spend a few hours together now and then, maybe even the odd night together, it was entirely different being together pretty much all the time. There were habits and quirks you each had that might get in the way, but your worries were soon put to rest. You and Mat had wonderful chemistry together, easily able to spend your time together but also still enjoy each other’s company while doing separate activities. You didn’t want to rush into things and you made no move to do so, but it was ever so easy to imagine what living with Mat would be like. And sure, you were well aware of the fact that it wouldn’t always be sunshine and rainbows; the two of you would eventually transition out of this honeymoon-type period of your relationship, but something told you life would Mat would never bore you. It’d never make you wish for anything different.

“Give me a second,” Mat says and before you could ask him what he meant, he’s out of his seat and you follow him across the bar, a little confused.

He makes his way past the bar, past the pool tables and stops in front of what is undoubtedly a jukebox. Curious, you arch an eyebrow and watch as he fiddles with finding the right amount of change before inserting the coins in the slot. It takes him a while before he finds whatever song it is he wants and it takes enough time for him to make it back to your table before the jukebox and sound system registers the request. You don’t recognise the first few notes at all, much less the accompanying guitar strings but you don’t have time to search your memory for a title.

Mat stops by your side, holding a hand out to you. “Dance with me.” It’s more statement than question and under any circumstances, you may have felt a little awkward about doing this, but it’s the heat of the moment and your giddiness that pushes you to your feet, hand in Mat’s.

The two of you are beaten to an emptier area in the establishment by two other much older couples that were closer to it anyway, and you find that gives you a bit more of a boost also. Mat pulls you to him, wrapping one arm around your waist while holding on to your free hand while you hold on to his shoulder with the other. Your fingers lightly clench and unclench the soft material of his shirt, lowering your head a little and you smile against the back of your hand. It’s so painfully cheesy and there’s nowhere near enough other people dancing along to the song but you love it much more than you thought you ever would.

“Know what I’d invest all my money into?” He asks you suddenly.

You pull back a little, still swaying along with the song. “Cryptocurrency seems like a safe bet right now.”

Mat laughs, that big hearty laugh of his that makes your smile wider and when it passes, he presses a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Well, I’m glad one of us has a good head on their shoulders, but no.” He shakes his head, then laughs again, shorter and quieter as if recalling your response. “A time machine. I want to stop time right here and right now so that we can be as we are for a little while longer.”

“Cheesy,” you joke, despite the warmth coursing across your entire body and the jelly-like feeling forming in your knees. “But perfectly understandable.”

“Eventually, we wouldn’t need it, but it’d be nice to have one for tonight.”

“Eventually? How so?” You question, then narrow your eyes a little, the gesture playful. “You plan on getting bored of me and breaking up?”

“What!” He exclaims and pulls you in just that much closer. He lets go of your hand only so he could bring his to your chin, tipping your head back a little. “Never,” kiss, “say that,” kiss, “again.” The final kiss you share with him is a little longer and you take the liberty of bringing your hand to his chest, palm pressing against it to feel the thump of his heart against his ribcage momentarily. Then, slowly, you graze the tips of your nails along his exposed collarbone and peck his lips once more before pulling away. It’s then that the song’s name and artist comes to your mind, almost as an afterthought. From hidden speakers, Brett Young declares I couldn’t live life without you and Mat gives you a pointed stare. “Damn, he said it before I could.”

“It’s the thought that counts,” you assure him. “Either way, I think I prefer hearing it from you, Barzal.”

“I’m pretty sure I couldn’t live without you,” he recites and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. He sways you both in a more exaggerated manner that makes you cling to him more out of habit than necessity. You’ve known you’d trust Mat with anything, but each day, he seems to do something that makes that thought solidify more and more in your mind. The comfort and safety that brings wraps around you like a warm blanket.

Be it the hot weather, the somewhat stifling interior of the bar, the sips of sangria on an empty stomach, the euphoria of the moment or all things combined, you nod quickly. And from somewhere in the depths of your mind, the very bottom of your heart, you respond with, “I can get used to this day after day. So don’t let me go, baby.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he whispers, tone full of care and love and warmth. He gives you his promise without hesitation and you know it’s bound to stick.

Your phone buzzes once.

I’m downstairs. Need help with your bags?

You push up from the comfort of your couch and make one last round of your apartment to make sure you had everything you definitely needed from where it was placed.

I’m good. Will be down in a minute, you text back but don’t pocket your phone right away. Instead, you stare at the screen for a little while longer, half tempted to scroll through the thread of messages. They’d provide a stark timeline of when things started going wrong and you would probably be able to see exactly how things changed between the two of you from the moment you suggested a mere break wouldn’t do it. But doing that would be like breaking a streak you had going for sufficient time to earn a pat on your back. The journey of getting to a point where you were sufficiently okay with being in Mat’s presence without any other company was a long one and the last thing you needed was to recall how it once was.

You and Mat started out as friends after Elise introduced the two of you just a short while before he started his professional career with the Islanders. She talked about how the two of them met in school and how great of a guy he was; real down to earth, funny and incredibly ambitious - traits she also assigned to you, and therefore thought the two of you would get along great. She wasn’t wrong about it. You knew a little about hockey, going to games every now and then mostly whenever Elise dragged you along but you found that Mat made the game more enjoyable. He explained it to you in a manner that didn’t make you feel belittled or as if it should be something you already knew of, and didn’t mind explaining some things more than once. On the other hand, you introduced him to your own hobbies and the little world you created for yourself in a city as big and busy as New York. You showed him the more lowkey but homely establishments, including your favourite pizza place that - unbeknown to you at the time - would become yours and his, and even took him to a few student bars where you regularly beat him at pool while he showed off at darts. Occasionally, it felt weird to watch him unwind in such…normal places and ways while on other days, he shone on ice and was easily one of the best rookies emerging from one of the country’s most well known sports leagues. Yet despite that, you found that athlete Mat wasn’t all that different from Mat the person.

He never put a front and his genuine manner was refreshing to you, particularly during a time when you were still a college student and a good portion of the guys around were textbook frat boys. Being around Mat was comfortable and safe. You didn’t feel the need to speak a certain way or be a different person, and retrospectively, the way you felt towards him developed almost organically. You felt yourself gravitating towards him and were pleasantly surprised by the moments when he’d seek you out first. A day off here and a day off there until eventually, you found yourself spending much of your free time with him and vice-versa.

Falling in love with Mat was easy. Being without Mat was difficult. But, thankfully, not impossible apparently.

Convinced you packed everything you needed, made your way out with a duffle bag on your shoulder and a suitcase at your heels.

True to his word, Mat was parked in front of your place and as soon as you pushed open the building’s door, he looked up from his phone and made his way over to you. The last thing you needed was to make the journey any more awkward or difficult for the both of you, so you didn’t argue when he took the bags from you to stow them away in the trunk.

“Are you going across the country?” You ask, peeking into the trunk while he plays Tetris with the bags.

“What?” He questions, evidently distracted by the task at hand but straightens up when you delicately place a hand on his arm, pushing him to the side a little.

“You’d think you’re going across the country for like, two or three weeks rather than a couple of days,” you repeat. “Maybe put that smaller bag sideways? That might let the bigger suitcase fit.”

He follows your guidance and sure enough, that does the trick: the suitcases fit perfectly in the trunk and you grin to yourself, triumphant.

Mat steps back, closing the trunk and brushes his hands together. “Thanks,” he says and you nod, heading towards your seat in the front. He follows you inside just as you click in your seatbelt. “I don’t think it’ll take us more than two or three hours to get there if traffic’s as good as it was when I checked it a little while earlier. Got everything?”

“Everything important that is. Everything else, I’ll just worry about and pull my hair out when we get there,” you tell him and you can’t help feeling proud for being able to keep conversation light and as normal as you can.

After all, you’ve known life before Mat and you’re rediscovering it after him too.

Mat laughs ever so quiet, and from the corner of your eye, you catch him brushing his hand across his mouth though he’s a few seconds too slow in trying to mask his smile.

“I think I’ll need to fill up soon, but let me know if there’s anywhere else you want to stop along the way,” he tells you while pulling out of the parking spot.

You nod even if he probably might not see it and take the liberty to scroll through radio stations. Mat doesn’t seem to be against it, so you continue switching to them until, a little frustrating that nothing seems to work for you, you connect your phone to the car and play one of your playlists. A mix of upbeat pop and an assortment of viral tracks fill in the silence for a while, and the act of singing along in your head takes your mind away from how it almost feels as if you’re sitting on needles. It takes a conscious effort on your behalf to remind yourself to loosen your shoulders and stop fiddling too much with your hands, and you’re glad Mat seems to be plenty preoccupied with driving. Once upon a time, he would’ve immediately picked up on even the most mild of your discomforts and tried to do anything he could to alleviate them. You don’t know how much, if at all, Mat changed during the time you spent apart but you want to think that you no longer wear your heart on your sleeve as much and your emotions are much more guarded, especially in his presence.

Apparently, though, there’s only so much he can take with silence filled in by music because once he’s off busier streets, he leans in his seat more comfortably and you can tell he very briefly turns his head towards you. “Think they’ll like their wedding gift?”

You direct your gaze away from the flashing scenery outside to Mat. “Absolutely. Who wouldn’t like it? Trust me when I say Bali’s been a place Elise always wanted to visit and I can’t think of a better time than now,” you assure him.

“If they don’t, it’s on you,” he says and it takes you a beat longer to realise he’s just joking so you huff out a laugh, relaxing back in the seat.

“If they don’t, they can give one of the tickets to me and I’ll happily go there.” You cast a glare out at the scenery ahead, eyes narrowing upwards towards the overcast sky. “I don’t think summer will ever come at this rate. I’m starting to hate it here.”

“Doubt Baltimore was any better,” Mat points out.

“Hardly,” you sigh. “Maybe I’ll ask them to send me to Miami instead. That’d be much better.”

Mat clears his throat quickly, shifting a little. “So, are you planning on going back to Baltimore or... Why are you back?” You catch sight of the frown forming on his face, and he quickly shakes his head as if trying to rid the hint of accusation from his voice. “That sounded wrong, sorry. But just genuinely curious. I thought a permanent move was on the table?”

“It was. Still is, but they needed me back here to wrap up a project. It was a pretty bad move on their behalf to send me there before we had that wrapped up nice and neat, bow and all, but I guess…” You trail off, shrugging a shoulder. “Guess we’ll see what’s next after that. They do want me back there, though. It just depends how long it takes for things here to fall into place.”

“Fair enough.” Another pause, another moment for him to press his lips together in silent deliberation. He did that often, and you wonder if that remains a habit still. “Was it a promotion? I forgot, sorry.”

“All good,” you assure, brushing off the apology. “Not a promotion per se, but a sidestep with just a slightly bigger paycheck. The office there is a bit smaller than the New York one so maybe there’s a higher chance of getting promoted sooner, but I don’t want to jump the gun on that yet. How did things work out for you guys this season?”

The Islanders had a good season, making the playoffs but fell just short of making the semi-finals, you knew that. After all, you hadn’t removed the Islanders game and news alerts from your phone and you put that on your laziness. You wouldn’t shy away from admitting to him you still followed the team’s progression, but you preferred not to.

“Could’ve been better but there’s lots to learn from it,” Mat tells you and there’s a trace of excitement and determination in his voice. “Next season will be even better, I guarantee.”

It’s a staple Mat response, one he always gave if he felt a game didn’t end in their favour or he didn’t do as much as he thought he should have. Sometimes, it took him some time to accept it. Usually, it came to him after pushing himself in training, after going that extra step in the gym, after re-watching highlights or coach videos and always - always, you’d assure him that it takes a team to move forward, not a single person. Always, he’d kiss you and tell you he loves you and always, you’d spend those moments wrapped up in each other’s arms, more often than not with Mat’s head resting against your chest and your leg slung around his hip.

“Plenty of time to lift that cup, Barzal,” you assure him. “Sure, the sooner the better but there’s always a right time for everything.”

“I hope so,” he agrees pensively, and lingers on that thought.

You let him to it, directing your attention back to the view outside and only now and then picking up your phone either to switch songs or browse through a few applications. A part of you feels almost obliged to try and push for conversation but you avoid doing so. The last thing you need is to make it painfully awkward for the two of you and you figure Mat could always do that himself if he feels like it. So, you let your mind wander to better things - to the upcoming rehearsal and the wedding itself, to how good Elise will look and how Tito will be so proud to watch her walk the aisle towards him. You imagine their reaction to the gift you and Mat contributed towards and smiled to yourself, knowing it was a perfect pick for them both.

You don’t think about telling Elise you and Mat had lied to them. You don’t think about passing this hurdle - the final one before you two will become strangers to one another. You don’t think about how the next time you might both see each other again, you’ll both have such different lives that for a brief moment, the surprise of it will knock the air out of your lungs before you remember: that’s him without me, and this is me without him. And you won’t be the first or the last people to break up, but a part of you is certain what the two of you had was unique and could’ve been grand. So much grander.

You become more alert to your surroundings when he starts slowing the car and you notice you’re pulling up into a gas station. As much as space allows you, you stretch out a little and Mat stops right by one of the pumps.

“Want something for the road?” You ask him, unplugging your phone and taking your card from your bag.

“Hold on, I’ll come with you,” Mat tells you and it doesn’t take long for the refill to happen before you both walk into the station’s store, beelining for the snack aisles even if you have only two hours or so until you reach your destination.

“Oh gosh, those are going to be a nightmare to clean up if you spill any in the car,” you groan quietly as he browses through the variety of Nerds flavours.

“But they’re so good though,” he shoots back and flashes a smile that is nothing short of sly when he picks up two boxes instead of one.

“Yeah, until the flavour runs out literally two seconds after you put them in your mouth. I mean, enjoy that but I’m different,” you boast and pick up a bag of sour candy.

“You just like obliterating your taste buds.”

He’s not wrong. Sour candy and spicy foods are your guilty pleasures, and have been for the longest time. You don’t try to look into how easily he recalls that because, you tell yourself, there’s nothing to look into. It’s a mere fact that anyone who knows you would easily recite.

“You’re wrong and you know it, but admitting that is difficult so it’s fine, Barzal. No hard feelings,” you throw back, snickering as you head over to the fridges for a bottle of cold water. Instinctively, you grab another for him and instinctively, he takes your candy and the water to pay for them but you still tag along with him in the queue.

“No shot. I like some spice but to the point where I literally can’t taste anything else? Hey, remember that one time when you made something… Can’t remember what it was but it was so…” He purses his lips and you laugh because yes, yes you remember it so clearly.

“So good you ended up crying over it?” You offer.

“More like, I wasn’t crying but it was so fucking spicy, Y/N, holy.”

“You survived though, didn’t you?”

“I only did because there isn’t a thing you do I don’t like,” he says and then, seems to catch himself but a second too late. “Didn’t like,” he corrects quietly but the damage is done.

You swallow uncomfortably, directing your gaze away from him but don’t hesitate to nod towards the outside. “I’ll head over to the car. I’ll text Elise to tell her we’re close.”

“Y/N—“

But you’re already taking steps towards the exit and out of ear shot, making a beeline for the car. Your heart thumps rapidly and uncomfortable in your chest and find that pressing a palm to your left side doesn’t make it any better. You know it’s an innocent mistake and there are some habits that die hard, but the way he phrased it triggered your fight or flight instinct instantaneously and despite yourself, you leaned towards the latter. You enter the car and take the time to compose yourself as much as you could. The last thing you need is to have a conversation with Mat about this because you didn’t want to have it - it shouldn’t happen for the sake of avoiding making the situation even more uncomfortable. It was an innocent slip up, no doubt, and you should’ve braced yourself to speak of Mat in present tense as opposed to past tense in the presence of others but it comes to you harder than imagined.

It’s odd how you both once knew so much about each other, everything even, and now the two of you are reduced to dancing around all that and making conscious efforts to keep your conversations as short and banal as possible.

You try and busy yourself with formulating a message to Ellie, one that’s long enough to try and make you seem as busy as possible by the time Mat returns to the car, but every line you wrote, every mini paragraph going into dull details about the trip and where you guys currently are seemed like an overthrow. So, you delete that also and simply text her an OTW just as Mat sets the sweets on the centre console and the bottles in the cup holders.

He doesn’t start the engine immediately and your mood quickly switches to frustration. Sure, you hadn’t handled it in the best way possible but trying to have a conversation about it wouldn’t make it any better. Or at least, it’s just something you didn’t want to have to think about for the remainder of the journey.

But he does just that, because that is what Mat always did: he talked with you.

“I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable,” he begins, “I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did. It’s force of habit more than anything else.”

“It’s whatever, Mat, so just move past it. I did, simple as that,” you tell him neutrally.

There’s something in that response he must have not liked because you pick up on his small huff and shortly after, the car starts and you’re both on the road again. This time, with silence between you and an atmosphere so heavy it makes you wish you weren’t speeding down an Interstate just so you could open the window and let some of the air in.

The hotel the wedding will be held at lies in front of you, sprawling and secluded and perfect for an event like this. Tito is already at the entrance and when he spots Mat’s car, he waves quickly while Mat quickly flashes the headlights before pulling into an available parking spot.

“There they are!” Tito says by way of greeting and you walk right into his outstretched arms, hugging him. “Can’t believe so much time passed since we last saw each other. What is it, two months? Three?”

“Three,” you confirm once you pull away so that Mat could hug him also. “It’s good to see you too. Where’s Elise?”

“She wanted to check on some small details and said she’ll meet up with you guys in a bit. So here I am, the welcoming committee,” Tito explained and when he and Mat stepped apart, he reached out to give you another short hug which you accepted. “So how was Baltimore? Don’t suppose you liked it all that much if you’re back so soon. This guy was happy about it,” Tito adds, nodding his head towards Mat who was already busy emptying the trunk.

You press your lips together, displaying a small smile. “Baltimore wasn’t too bad but they missed me here, apparently. Can’t complete a damn thing without my two cents so here I am for now.”

Tito frowns, but the expression is very brief. “For now? We’ll need to talk more about that later so Barzy doesn’t mope around as much as he did back then.”

You throw a quick glance towards Mat but he’s looking away towards whatever interesting spot on the ground he found, pointedly ignoring you. “I’ll have a word with him about it later,” you tell Tito lightly and together, the three of you make your way inside, towards the reception.

“I think Elise is in the room at the end of the corridor if you want to say hi,” Tito informs you and you jump at the opportunity.

You follow the corridor, making a right turn and continuing along the dimly lit hallway leading to what the signs informed you to be Conference Room 1. The door is slightly ajar and you begin picking up on the buzz of activity coming from within and soon enough, you’re face to face with a spacey room boasting an array of flowers and various arrangements tastefully decorating tables and drooping down from the ceiling. No doubt, the effect will be lovely during the night when colourful neon lights can be turned on. You spot Elise easily: she’s in the midst of the room with what is undoubtedly the scrapbook of ideas she’d been carefully putting together since Tito asked her to marry him. Outwardly, she’s all smiles and laughter but you can imagine the amount of effort and planning putting all of this together and working with planners takes.

When she spots you, she squeals in excitement, sets her book down and dashes across the room to engulf you in a hug, making you stumble a few steps back.

You burst into laughter and wrap your arms around her, squeezing her with just enough force to try and communicate how much you missed her but not so that it was uncomfortable.

“I missed you! You’re here!” She exclaims, stepping back to look at you in disbelief then hugging you again. “Oh my gosh, I’m so happy you’re here! Where’s Mat? Is he here too?”

“Of course he is,” you assure her with a laugh. “I missed you too.” You throw a curious glance towards the room over her shoulder, nodding your head towards it. “How’s it going? Need me to take over for a bit?”

“Maybe later. Definitely later. Come on.” She wraps an arm around yours and leads the way out of the room, undoubtedly back to the reception area where you left Mat and Tito. “Please tell me Baltimore is off the table. FaceTime is fine, sure, but it’s not great, you know? I need the real deal next to me. Besides, I’m not sure if you heard, but Mat wasn’t Mat without you.”

“So I heard, but forget about us!” You said in a desperate attempt to try and steer attention away from the subject. “Tell me about how everything’s going. Are you still nervous about it? Because trust me, Elise - you have absolutely nothing to be nervous of. What I’ve heard of so far and what I’ve seen will make it the absolute best day, surely.”

“Of course I’m nervous,” she tells you and to demonstrate, she holds her free hand in front of you and sure enough, there’s just a slight tremble to it. “Please lend me some of those nerves of steel of yours, Y/N, I’d do anything to have even a small percentage of them right now.”

“Pft, as if. Those are all show, trust me.”

“I’ll take even that. Oh, Mat!” She greets as soon as the two of you reach the reception area and Elise spots Mat.

Much like you and Tito, they hug and when she steps back, she immediately stands next to Tito who doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. They exchange a quick kiss and you smile at the happiness and bliss they’re clearly surrounded by.

It’s the slight pressure on your lower back that makes you jolt a little on the spot and it’s then you realise Mat had gently placed his hand there to encourage you a little closer. It takes effort on your behalf to follow his guidance but you move towards him, though you wish you could physically wince at how undoubtedly stiff the two of you must look. Or hopefully, not greatly so because neither Tito nor Elise comment on it or shoot you any funny looks as the four of you engage in brief conversation, mainly surrounding the trip here and any other guests they expect to receive today.

You don’t hang around much, though. Elise’s phone begins buzzing incessantly and she’s whisked away by the message received, but not before she fixes you with a pointed stare and demands the two of you have drinks later in the evening. Tito follows her also, even if he informs you and Mat that he feels as if he’s running around in the right places only because of Elise and the wedding planners, but you encourage him on by joking he could maybe turn a few candles on the tables this way or that for some extra oomph.

“I can’t imagine how she does it,” you admit to Mat once the elevator doors slide shut soundlessly and the car begins moving upwards to your floor.

“Pretty sure it’s not that big of a deal to her, given what all this is leading to,” Mat tells you and you detect a hint of detachment in his voice.

You don’t welcome it, of course you don’t, but you choose to not point that out to him. The last thing you want is an argument to break out the relatively okay mood the two of you have managed to hold, recent events that could be erased from memory aside. Instead, you simply stand back quietly, eyes glued on the red digital numbers aside until they come to a halt on the ninth floor where the elevator stops and you’re both left in a silent, dimly lit hallway.

Mat has the key to the apartment Elise told you the two of you would be in and just before tapping in, he hands you your own copy of it. Up until this very moment, you hadn’t thought very much of the overnight arrangements. You were pretty sure you meant to ask Elise a bit more about them at some point but both your attention and hers were pulled in different directions and here you were, stepping into your place for the next couple of nights, Mat trailing a little behind you.

You stop, arms folding across your chest and you feel Mat stop somewhere close behind you, looking into one room.

“I didn’t think this through,” you state neutrally.

Ahead of you lay only one bed.

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl fic #*#the synopsis sucks but i'm bad at short summaries lol #i had this idea since i first joined hockeyblr and i'm happy to have finally found the motivation to write it #anyway i have a vague idea for some scenes #and there will probably be three MAYBE four parts to it

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spnfanficpond · 3 years

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May 2021 Angel Fish Awards

(Angel Fish design by @slytherkins!!)

WELCOME TO THIS MONTH’S ANGEL FISH AWARDS!

Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words.

The monthly Angel Fish Awards are peer-nominated, meaning ANYONE (you don’t have to be a member) CAN NOMINATE ANY POND MEMBER’S FIC. Everyone in this community deserves to be showered with love and feedback, and we hope that this fun, thoughtful award will do just that.

Be sure to read through this whole post as people who were nominated more than once only had one tag activated for tumblr tagging purposes!

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, HERE ARE THIS MONTH’S ANGEL FISH AWARDS!

Nominated by @mrswhozeewhatsis

Dean's Last Summer Day by @cloverhighfive

I'm not sure I have the words for this one. Destiel, kinda fluffy, kinda angtsy, will DEFINITELY make you cry? Keep the tissues handy, because this is just too beautiful!

~*~*~

Nominated by @firefly-in-darkness

Life's Lessons (series) by @deangirl93

This series was AMAZING! I loved every second of their story and I was hooked from beginning to end!

~*~*~

Nominated by @emblue-sparks

Succubus by @samsexualdeancurious

Loved how their banter was so on point and Sam was so gentle with Dean.

Reassurance by @ samsexualdeancurious

Loved how chill and collected Dom Dean was, even when Sam wasn't.

Three Plus One Equals Four by @ samsexualdeancurious

Thoroughly impressed with how she balanced four guys so well, it can be daunting to write but she did well and it was hot!

Pineapple & Pizza by @ cloverhighfive

Because writing miscommunication & confusion over a pineapple sex meme is the Destiel trope we never knew we needed! Dean's promise to Cas he can see his "little pineapple" later was so damn CUTE.

White Chapel by @bees0are0awesome [Editor's Note - Bees appears to no longer be at this URL. If anyone knows them and where they've moved to, please let us know!]

This Destiel Jack-the-Ripper(esque) thriller was suitably chilling. The way she characterized TFW was so well done and the research put into the fic, even so the characters spoke in the period English vernacular, was incredible.

Wedding Gift by @lifeisdabubbles-undersalmondean

As a Chevy enthusiast, I love authors giving Baby some love. Getting to drive Baby would be a dream come true, I loved it!

~*~*~

Nominated by @negans-lucille-tblr

Bringing the Heat by @becs-bunker

Hoooo boy. This one was so hot, I needed the pool from the fic to cool me down. Bonus points if Sam was in it 🤣

You Broke Us by @hoboal87

This one is a delicious mix of angsty and dark and smutty! Love it!

~*~*~

Nominated by @supernatural-jackles

I Fell For You by @luci-in-trenchcoats

This story is a true masterpiece! The relationship from the very start of the series, up until this point is something I love to read about. It's just so healthy and real feeling that I just can't get enough of it. This series brings me an immense sense of comfort, which is one of the things I look for in a series. Michelle does an exceptional job at it on a regular basis, and yet, can still knock me off my feet with it. This series is a must read!

A Little Trip - Amusement Park by @mariekoukie6661

So proud of Marie for finishing this fic!! It is everything I want for the Winchester brother's to experience!! It's fun, and sweet! Marie did an amazing job with it ♥

Perfect by @ mrswhozeewhatsis

Honestly, I just love this fic! It hurts me in the best ways and it reminds me of the reason why I fell in love with fanfiction. The way my heart tugs in my chest reading this is one of the best feelings I have. I search and long for fics like this and this one is perfect (no pun intended). Michelle does an amazing job at making me feel!

Do It For Me by @thoughtslikeaminefield

This one is so damn good and hot and everything you need from Dean Winchester! I don't have words for this one other than it is a MUST READ!

Always There to Get Me Goin' by @ luci-in-trenchcoats

Ackles arm porn!! Okay, but really! This fic is just as hot as it is sweet! I love the dynamic in their relationship and it feels so comfortable!! It's a must read for all Ackles readers!

~*~*~

Nominated by @princessmisery666

Toes In The Sand by @fangirlxwritesx67

This ripped my heart out of my chest but then wrapped it sugar coated candy and put it back.

F*** the SPN ending. THIS. THIS RIGHT F****** HERE is how it ended and no one can tell me otherwise. I’ve been looking for something for so long that would ease some of the hurt of the show being over and HATING the idea of Sam living a life without Dean. But this healed this fangirls heart.

[Editor's Note: Consider this nomination seconded!! This is so good!!

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Nominated by @slytherkins

One Plus One Makes Five by @thegirlwhorunswithwinchesters

The sweetest, fluffiest thing I've ever read. Happy!Domestic!Dean is just *chef's kiss* And the ending? Just precious. This fic is a tiny morsel of toothrot, and it's fantastic.

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Nominated by @peridottea91

Sleep Tight by @thinkinghardhardlythinking

This was all manners of hot and was just a different concept than what I usually see from smut fics, especially Sam x Reader fics. I loved it!! 10 out of 10!!!

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Nominated by @wildfirewinchester

A Stranger In Need by @percywinchester27

This is by far one of my favorite Sam fics lately. He's witty and kind, and he doesn't reveal everything about himself up front, even though he never lies or covers up the truth. Ana writes his character so well in all of her stories, and the reader is both relatable and believable. I swoon every time I read this fic because a) I love Sam Winchester, b) it's beautifully written and I can focus on what's happening instead of trying to decipher what the writer is trying to say, and c) it's such an interesting plot that it pulls you write in!

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Nominated by @katelynw93

Trainwreck by @msmarvelouswinchester

This fic was so beautifully written and it made me feel so many different emotions. It was heartbreaking and full of so much angst and fluff and uuuugh, there aren't enough words to describe this fic. It's wonderful. <3

Hunted (series) by @that-one-gay-girl

This series and this author are both wonderful. There are so many emotions that have been put into this series and I'd be a mistake not to read it! <3

Always There by @sams-sass

This fic brought me to literal tears. It was so thoughtful and sweet and exactly what I needed to read when I read it! It's amazing and so wonderfully written.

Sweet Dreams by @winchest09

This fic made me feel so many, many good things. I looooved very bit of it! If you're a Sam girl than this is DEFINITELY the fic for you!! It's hot and steamy and just... delicious. It's a must read!

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Nominated by @cloverhighfive

Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones, but Words Might Get Me Laid by @slytherkins

You know how it is. You've read a few things from an author and then BAM you find a thing you haven't read and OH

This one, it's got a great progression, a great pull and tug between wanting, needing, but being stuck. And then it's hot and soft in the best of ways, so much consent, and even if it's hot it's fluff. Cas and Dean are so in character. It's the best of everything.

And of course, keeping it as close to canon feels as possible, that little angsty twist.

But oh. They're together so that counts for everything.

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Nominated by @fictionalabyss

Fairy Tale by @wingedcatninja

I haven't had a lot of time for reading lately, but I've been enjoying the little prompt drabbles that have started coming out for June. So far this one is my favourite that had me laughing. I can just picture Dean's crazy frantic screams rofl. I'm genuinely very excited to see what the rest of the month holds.

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Nominated by @peridottea91

In Search Of A Happy Ending by @idreamofplaid

Omg this story!!!! It was domestic and short but sweet and fluffy!!!! Just *chef's kiss* perfection!!!

THANK YOU ALL FOR THE AWESOME WORK AND GREAT FEEDBACK!

These are not actual awards! This system is set up so everyone in the Pond has a chance to share the love and promote a fic/author that has grabbed your attention. The more people that participate, and the more everyone remembers to submit their own fics after posting, the better this will be :D

THANK YOU ALL AGAIN, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!

#angel fish awards #angel fish awards masterlist #spnfanficpond #fan fiction #fanfiction #fan fic #fanfic #spn fan fiction #spn fanfiction #spn fan fic #spn fanfic #supernatural fan fiction #supernatural fan fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #fic rec #spn fic rec #supernatural fic rec

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tribus-mantodea · 4 years

Photo

[ ...closer than would one expect. ]

Bear with me, this came to me last night like a fever dream and I cannot restrain myself.

Summary: The maiden wishes to find her life companion, but before doing so, she would like to be better capable. Said life companion may or may not be... right... there...

It’s strange that she manages to get to the place she’s stuck at to begin with as well as manage her way back (maybe by an infectious acid trip, who knows), but that certainly says something about her self-preservation skills, right? Maybe?

Sometime after gaining the Lords’ respect, Cloth decides she’ll linger a few moments longer... find a nicer spot to nap in that isn’t preoccupying the only place looking suitable for any potential outsiders. Inevitably, she hears something odd and decides to investigate (spikes are a trifling matter anyways).

--Oho! Hello! The two meet, and Bretta swings right-on hard into her initial bout of infatuation. Bretta’s awkward and says something along the lines of how she should get going, but Cloth proceeds to hit her with an offer of accompaniment for a lil’ while. (She’s sure maybe the bug can defend herself, but also, if she gets to meet another strong bug along the way to fight? That’s the life.)

They make it to Dirtmouth in what’s relative silence since Bretta doesn’t want to say anything too horrific or wind up spilling out a bunch of things (and she’s generally just a bit timid, something that reminds Cloth of herself). They part ways, and, well. Bretta hyperfixates and there is a Cloth made out of cloth and several other things like stories that were told and --

Honestly speaking, Cloth moves around. A lot. Bretta figures that out eventually after her interest is subdued to a nice simmer, and she supposes maybe it’s better for her to move on instead of waiting for someone to drop by. She thinks it’s a little too much to go and say goodbye, but being reminded that Cloth was a wanderer, she’s like... Oh. Maybe she’ll ask a thing or two, say something (but she’s conflicted, because what if that just makes her want to stay even more just like her--).

Instead, Cloth is like. Aye, a wonderful goal! So you fight? Not really? Hmm... would you like to practice and travel with me a bit until you feel comfortable, friend? Oh? Good then!

And it’s a lot of tropes. Pinned down and bested, yet instead of mockery the warrior whose fiery energy was alluring beyond her rough exterior offered her hand(?) and their little clawsies touch in an area not at all pristine and nice and with only their breaths held and passionate yet soft gazes locked and... Well. Maybe that’s just how she remembers it. The other times usually resulted in her being rendered unconscious due to a lovely and solid thwack on the head.

[ As far as fighting goes, she’s a craftsman at heart and has a shoddy nail that could be used for carving if she so chose to sculpt. Bretta’s seemingly more on the defensive/flight/sneak 100 side than outright confrontation (due to the plot-armorlike shell she has that’s almost entirely immune to piercing/slashing strikes).

They do this shebang for a while. Enough that Bretta began to recognize that she’s straying away from her goal and feeling too comfortable around this stupid big burly cute cool cicada. And yet it’s pretty nice? And yet maybe, just maybe, her soulmate was in fact her this entire time? Watching over and guiding her without wanting to ever let her know to break the illusion?

Okay she’s very self-aware of how obsessive she is, but in the end she does know she likes her, and maybe one thing led to another and maybe they’re a little more than mere friends.

#;;bonds denser than orange juice #;;art #;;a heart forged into nail #| 2021 #\\#[ Forgive Me. I Am So Dumb. LOL ]#[ I was like. ''Man. What do I do about th... OH... MAYBE?'' ]#[ Currently also considering shoehorning Myla in there but oh geez at what cost. ]

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cavehags · 4 years

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i realize this will probably bring up old drama so you might not want to answer it. but do you ever regret, however on purpose or on accident, bringing all that unnecesary hate towards Katara? i'm really sad and dissapointed tbh. i'm a woman of color and katara was so important to me growing up. my favorite animated woman ever. and then this resurgence comes and theres so, so much unnecesary hatred for her and everyone ignoring everything that makes her a good character.

(2/3) 2- and you know, i expected this from the male side of the fandom. they were misogynistic to her and the others even back then so i would expect it to be even worse with how internet culture is more mysogistic now that ever. and i wasnt wrong. male atla fans had some truly horrible takes and views that just came across as racism and misogyny. but, i expected these circles to be better. to be a safe space for us woc who love this character. but i found the same weird hatred for her.

(3/3) 3-i just, i cant believe i feel less welcome now that i did even back then. and back then i didnt even paricipate really. but at least i could enjoy fandom content without stumbling into misogyny and racism every other post. also sorry for sending this to your personal blog b i just wanted to let you know you controbuted to that too even if it wasnt your intention. at least you realized that and arent contributing to it anymore right? cause honestly the hate has only gotten worse not less.

hey anon. thanks for asking this question, because i hadn’t addressed this topic previously and this gave me an opportunity to do so.

no, i don’t regret publicly interpreting a character whom i love through a nuanced and human lens. and i don’t regret combating the one-dimensional interpretation of this character, which posits that she’s merely an vaguely defined object of attraction for some boy or another, and a singularly gentle, mature, maternal figure whose sole purpose in life is to nurture others. those interpretations suck. they rob her of the humanity and complexity that make her character unique and they stem from misogynistic tropes that reduce women to the services they can provide to men. the thing in the world that matters most to me is fighting misogyny, and this trend to diminish a proud and powerful and angry teenage girl by exaggerating only her most socially acceptable traits is misogyny.

unlike you, i did not grow up watching avatar: the last airbender. the shows i watched growing up did not have a lot of girls who felt real to me. the girls i saw on tv growing up were simple. they were the main characters’ crushes. they were simple, desirable, usually sweet and loving, and not much else. if they had a flaw, it was that they were, at best, “awkward.” whatever that means. or if they were the protagonists, which was rare, they were nice enough and tried to do the right thing, but they never had strong feelings like resentment and anger. they weren’t allowed to be unfeminine which meant they weren’t allowed to be bitter, angry or in any way flawed. they didn’t look like the version of girlhood i knew to be true for me personally, which included a lot of anger and frustration and powerlessness.

that crappy representation left me with internalized misogyny that chased me for longer than i’d like to admit. i did not learn to think of girls as humans who could be as interesting and flawed and messy as the boys were. i did not value myself as a girl, and later a woman, because i thought the best thing a girl could be was... bland. boring. pretty, but empty. passionless.

it would have meant the world to me to see a character like katara.

because katara is angry. she has every right to be: she’s had so much stolen from her, including her mother, her people, and her childhood. katara has a short fuse. she yells. she snaps. she fucks up. sometimes she makes mean jokes! i never saw a single one of those dreamily perfect cartoon love interests make mean jokes when i was a kid. she is extremely idealistic--it’s her defining character trait--but we see the bad side of that as well as the good. we see that her need to help others leads her to act rashly, to get herself into danger, to put others in danger too.

and she has her very own arc. it’s not about her love for another person, either (what a snooze of a storyline); it’s about growing up and learning to break down some of that stubborn black-and-white thinking that we all indulge in as children. it’s a true coming-of-age arc and it belongs to a fourteen-year-old girl.

when i, to use a phrase i find crass, “entered the fandom,” i quickly realized that other fans’ perceptions of katara did not line up with the things i valued most about her. other fans seemed to valorize her most socially acceptable feminine qualities: her generosity, her kindness, her dedication to helping others. and of course i love those parts of her--i love everything about her--but what is really remarkable about avatar: the last airbender is that katara’s many important virtues are also counterbalanced by equally significant flaws. a good character has flaws. katara is a good character, and a deviation from the characters who made up my formative media landscape, because she has flaws. her temper, her idealism, her stubbornness--these are flaws. flaws make her seem real and human and challenge the mainstream sentiment that girls are not real or human.

it simply did not occur to me that celebrating these aspects of katara that make her a realistic and well-written teenage girl would spark ire from other adult fans. it absolutely did not occur to me that i would then be blamed for somehow causing misogynistic interpretations of this character, particularly given that misogynistic interpretations of this character are the very thing i sought to correct when i began to blog about this television show.

i’m told there are “fans” on instagram and tiktok who think katara is whiny, annoying, and overly preoccupied with her trauma. i do not use instagram or tiktok, so i wouldn’t know, but i’ll take your word for it. respectfully, however, they didn’t get that from me. misogynistic takes on katara have existed since before i came along. i have never, ever called katara whiny. and seeing as i have been treating my own PTSD in therapy for nine years, you can safely conclude that i don’t think anyone, katara included, is overly preoccupied with their trauma. that’s not a thing. do i think she’s annoying? of course not! as a character, she’s a delight. does she sometimes find real joy in aggravating her brother and her friends? yes, because she’s 14. i, an adult, am not annoyed by her. sokka and toph often are, because that is katara’s goal and katara always succeeds in her goals. she’s not “annoying.”

if there are “fans” who are indeed following lesbians4sokka and somehow misreading every single post and interpreting them to mean that we hate katara and they should too, i don’t really know what you want me to do about that. l4s has over ten thousand followers and we have already posted so many essays disavowing katara hate. our feminist and antiracist objectives in running the blog are literally pinned with the headline “please read.”

furthermore, you cannot reasonably expect my co-blogger and me to control the way our words will be received. we should not have to, and are not going to, add a disclaimer to every post saying that when we critique or make jokes about a teenage girl we are doing so through a feminist lens. our url is lesbians4sokka, and we are clearly women. if that alone doesn’t make it obvious, then refer back to that pinned post.

it is indescribably frustrating, and really goddamn depressing as well, that people are so comfortable with the misogynistic binary of Perfect Good Women and Flawed Wicked Bitches that they perceive any discussion of a woman’s flaws to be necessarily relegating her to the latter camp. if that is how you (a generic you) perceive women, then i’m sorry, but you’ve internalized sexism that i cannot cure you of. and it’s unjust to expect my friend and me to write for the lowest common denominator of readers who have not yet had their own feminist awakenings. we do not write picture books for babies. we write for ourselves, and with the expectation that our readers can think critically. reading media through a feminist lens is my primary interest; i have no intention of excising that angle from my writing.

as i go through my life, i am going to embrace the flaws of girls and women because not enough people do. as long as the dominant narratives surrounding women are “good and perfect” and “unlovable wh*re,” you’ll find me highlighting flawed, realistic, righteously angry women in the margins. and for what it’s worth, it’s not just katara. i champion depictions of angry girls in all sorts of media. that’s sort of my whole thing. my favorite movies are part of the angry girl cinematic universe: thoroughbreds, jennifer’s body, hard candy, jojo rabbit, et cetera. on tv, in addition to katara, you’ll find me celebrating tuca and bertie, poppy from mythic quest, tulip and lake from infinity train, korra, and more. i adore all these women and see myself in them. i hope you find this suitably persuasive to establish that i have sufficient Feminist Cred, according to your standards, to observe and write about these very flawed and human fictional women.

what i’m saying is this: i decline to take responsibility for the misogynistic discourse orbiting a children’s cartoon. as someone who writes about that series from a perspective that seeks to add humanity and nuance to the reductive, one-dimensional, overwhelmingly sexist writing that already exists, i am pretty taken aback that i am the one being blamed for the very problem i sought to address. except not that taken aback because i am a woman online, haha! and this is always how it goes for us.

finally, i think it sucks that you’ve chosen to blame me for a problem that begins and ends with the patriarchy. i can’t control the way this response will be perceived, just like how i can’t control the way anything will be perceived because i am just one human woman, but i do hope you choose to be reflective, and consider why you’ve chosen this avenue to assign blame.

#anyway! this answer is too long and it's undignified to answer ''fandom drama'' queries on le blog #but here we are in 2020

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cal-puddies · 4 years

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remember when we couldn’t take the heat || ashton irwin

a lovely anon requested another trope fic for @kindahoping4forever and i to tag team, so we did.

As always Crystal is amazing and please share love with her as well (i do share any comments you all leave with her as well!) With her help I really think we were able to take this to next level, so it would not be this good without her! I hope you all love it!

You check your bag one last time before zipping it shut. You check your phone, seeing you still had about an hour before Michael and Crystal picked you up on their way to the airport.

A week long getaway at an all inclusive resort with five of your best friends (and one last minute addition of a new significant other) was exactly what you needed.

You thanked your lucky stars every night that Kay Kay was too busy, meaning Ashton had decided not to go. The two of you had never gotten along and you don't think you'd ever be able to relax if he was there.

So you're more than disappointed to see him strolling up to the gate. The second you spot him, you groan to Sierra, “You guys promised me he wouldn’t be here.”

She frowns and rushes over to have a quick sidebar with Luke. She returns, super apologetic and quickly explains that Ashton's relationship had recently blown up again and that he had texted Luke last night some vague questions about the trip but they had no idea that meant he intended to tag along.

“Well. He better not be next to me," you pout, crossing your arms.

But of course he is, because why not start off your relaxing vacation this way? And instead of seeming heartbroken about his break up, he’s flirting with all the flight attendants and every girl in line around him, until he sees he’s sitting next to you. He plops in the seat and immediately scrunches his face up.

“There’s gotta be another seat,” he grumbles, flagging down a flight attendant who assures him it's a full flight and there is in fact not a single other seat available.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me," Ash murmurs after the flight attendant walks away.

“Not like this is my dream flight either, buddy,” you groan.

Sensing the already mounting tension, Luke looks across the aisle with an apologetic smile to you and mouths ‘Sorry.'

Ashton immediately pulls out headphones and makes a big show out of ignoring you. He pulls his leather jacket off, accidentally elbowing your shoulder and smacking the sleeve in your face.

“What the fuck, Irwin?" You seethe.

He glares at you and shrugs, going back to his music.

Who the fuck wears a leather jacket to a fucking beach getaway? Could he look any less practical? You wonder briefly if he even brought anything suitable for the weather before you realize you shouldn’t give a single fuck about what’s in his bag.

You successfully ignore each other through the rest of boarding and take-off. At the earliest possible opportunity you order a drink and he comments, "A little early, don't you think?" You search your mind for a better retort than "Not when I'm sitting next to you, asshole" but then you realize it doesn't matter what you say because he didn't even bother to take off his headphones to make his remark.

To compound the dirty look you receive from him, Luke and Sierra order a drink for you as well. You gratefully chug both before ordering another, grumbling under your breath that this flight could not be over soon enough.

Ashton makes nice with the flight attendant and even takes his headphones off to flirt with her a bit. You roll your eyes at whatever bullshit lines he's feeding her and think now would be the perfect time to doze off for a cat nap if his voice wasn't so fucking loud.

You huff as she walks away, “Can you keep it down loudmouth?” You adjust your cardigan against the side of the plane and close the window shade, crossing your arms over your chest, leaning your head against the balled up fabric.

“I’d like to be able to see the sun," Ashton says, putting his sunglasses on and flipping the shade up.

You grit your teeth, “What’s the fuckin point if you put the sunglasses on?”

“Does it inconvenience you?” He asks, looking at your face and finding you must agree. “Then that’s the fuckin point, Princess.”

Your eyes narrow as you stare at him in disbelief, but you manage to keep yourself from selecting one of the literal hundreds of insulting comebacks you have running through your mind.

Guys like Ashton live off of getting reactions from people and the best way you could stick it to him is to simply not give him one.

You lean back in your seat and shake out your sweater, draping the sleeve over your face to create a makeshift eye shade for your nap. He scoffs at your actions, clearly hoping you'll take the bait and when you don't, you feel his glare on you for several beats before he pulls out his phone to find another way to entertain himself.

You’re able to ignore him for the rest of the flight, and you feel accomplished knowing it's driving him nuts that you’re no longer reacting to him.

You wait patiently to get off the plane, getting more than mildly annoyed at Ashton’s impatience. But you try not to say anything. He gets out of the row and you let Sierra and then Luke out across the aisle. “You two can no longer be trusted,” you jab at Luke.

“I’m sorry, bub,” Luke gives you an apologetic smile. “I didn’t know he would really come and I wouldn’t have wanted you to miss this.” He tries to explain with a pout but you just roll your eyes at the giant man in front of you.

You manage to claim your baggage without incident and you narrowly avoid the misfortune of having to sit next to Ash on the shuttle to the resort. Luke, obviously trying to win back your favor, offers to let you sit with Sierra and he sits in the open seat next to Ashton.

“Just don’t let him get to you,” Sierra says. “We’re still gonna have fun and there’s enough of us that you shouldn’t have to interact.”

Her reassurance helps soothe your nerves for the time being.

When you arrive at the resort, everyone mingles and chatters excitedly in the lobby while Luke and Sierra check your party in. Calum and his girlfriend keep Ash occupied and away from you and you couldn't be more grateful, taking the opportunity to make small talk with Michael and Crystal.

Check-in is taking a lot longer than it should and you crane your neck to try and see the front desk from where you're at. You happen to catch Sierra's gaze from across the room and she offers you a forced smile before she quickly looks away. Whatever's happening, it can't be good and you have a sneaking suspicion it has to do with the last minute addition to your trip.

When Sierra and Luke come back, they both refuse to make eye contact with you, making you even more suspicious. They hand out key cards to the other two couples and then both take a deep breath and look between you and Ash.

“What?” You ask point blank.

Luke purses his lips together, “They’re booked, they don’t have a room for Ash... but... your suite has a couch...”

“You’ve actually gotta be kidding me,” you quip.

“We won’t even be in the rooms except to sleep, it’ll be fine babe!” Sierra tries to convince you.

You groan, not even bothering to look at Ashton. “Fine.” You grit your teeth.

Ashton is obviously not thrilled with this arrangement either and you see him pull Luke aside, animatedly waving his hands as he complains.

You take the opportunity to head up to the room first in hopes of marking your territory: claiming the good drawers, the prime counter space in the bathroom. He needs to know you're doing him a favor by letting him stay in your room.

Ash comes in while you’re setting up in the bathroom and he immediately tries to stake claim on the bed. He’s flung himself across it when you come out of the bathroom.

“Keep dreaming, Irwin.”

“I got here first,” he states, tucking his arms behind his head with a smug look on his face.

You push his boot-clad feet off the bed with a huff. "Yes, you got here to MY bed first," you say with exaggerated enunciation. "MY bed in MY room. Since it was booked for ME. Since I was INVITED on this trip."

“I was invited too,” he reminds you, standing up, ready to argue.

“But you declined! And reinvited yourself literally last minute. If you had agreed when you were originally asked, we wouldn’t be sharing a fucking room," you say with exasperation.

"It worked out though," he shrugs dismissively.

You feel like your eyes are about to pop out of your head as you glare at him. "Does this seem like things working out to you?!"

“Honestly yes. We’ve both got a place to stay, I get to be here with my brothers... besides... Rock Star here, need I remind you, I don’t sleep on couches,” he starts.

“Blow me with that bullshit,” you quip. “This trip was supposed to be relaxing and now I can’t get laid because I can’t bring anyone back here... AND I have to see you literally first thing in the morning... AND you’re trying to take my bed... it’s the couch for you, Irwin. I don’t give a fuck who you think you are. And I think your BROTHERS would back me up on this," you say mockingly.

“I don’t know why you have to be such a bitch about this. And of course Luke will back you up, he’d hate for Sierra to be mad at him,” he rolls his eyes.

“I think he’d hate to know what a fucking diva you’re trying to be,” you sneer. “Why can’t you just go crash on one of their couches?”

"Like I said, I'm not trying to sleep on anyone's couch, sweetheart," he explains, the condescension dripping off of his words. "Plus, there's no way I'm about to be anyone's third wheel, something you clearly have no problem with."

You take a beat, pinching the bridge of your nose and taking two deep breaths. “Hate to break it to you Rock Star, but you ARE a third wheel on this trip. I just wanted a vacation with friends... but, as per usual your thotty ass comes along and turns it into my own personal hell. I paid for this room, so you can find yourself on the couch, freeloader.”

He gives a single snort in response which honestly infuriates you more than if he had come back at you with some long-winded monologue. He drags his suitcase to the couch and busies himself with unpacking, slamming drawers and grumbling every step of the way. You can't even be happy about winning the bed argument because you're so worked up now you can hear your heart pounding in your ears.

You grab your phone and angrily text Luke and Sierra, “Does 5sos really need a drummer? Can he be replaced? Because the current one is about to be dead.”

Luke responds with the crying laughing emoji which has you about to launch your phone across the room. Sierra is typing for quite a bit but eventually just ends up sending a simple "Hang in there sweetie, it'll be worth it tomorrow!"

You call room service to order a bottle of vodka, it’s the only way you’ll be able to deal with him. You hear Calum in the room and make an appearance, plastering on a fake smile. He gestures to his girl, “We were just gonna go check out the resort, wanted to see if you guys wanted to come?”

“I’ll pass thanks, I just ordered some room service. But Ash, you should absolutely go,” you encourage, gritting your teeth.

“Gladly... who goes on vacation to sit in their room anyway?” He quips.

Rather than fight in front of Cal, you give the group a sickly sweet "Have fun!" and breathe a sigh of relief when they shuffle out the door.

You take the chance to relax, changing out of your plane outfit and into something more appropriate for the more tropical setting, you open the balcony doors and wander out onto it. It really couldn’t be prettier. You’re drawn out by a knock on the door and you think it must be room service, but it’s Luke, Sierra, Michael and Crystal. Luke is holding your bottle of vodka.

“Had it charged to our room,” he says, thrusting it toward you. “We wanna go exploring. But let’s all get a drink first.” He smiles, “Save this for later.”

“Ash still here?” Crystal asks, peering into the room.

“He went with Cal... thank god,” you grumble. You set the vodka on the bedside table and grab your bag and sunglasses to head out with them.

One drink with the group becomes two which becomes decidedly more than two and they convince you to explore with them. By the time you get back to the room, Ashton has returned and is lounging on the couch as if he hasn't a care in the world. "Hey roomie," he dryly greets you without looking up from his phone.

“Hey asshole,” you slur, followed by a hiccup. You walk toward the bed and kick your shoes off, and very quickly follow it up with peeling your top off. “Why’s it s’hot?” You hiccup again and land haphazardly on the bed.

"AC wasn't acting right so I called the front desk and they said someone could look at it tomorrow," he explains noncommittally. "I, however, had the decency to leave my clothes on because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

You scoff at his implication. Or you mean to, at least. Despite the climate of the room, the events of the day combined with your intoxicated state has you drifting off before you know it. As you fade into unconsciousness, you think you hear Ash snipe in the distance, "If you barf on the bed during the night, I'm not helping you clean that shit up."

You make a mocking tone at him, you think. And you’re out.

After an evening of drinking, you wake up at 3 AM, needing the bathroom. You immediately notice you’re somehow tucked in bed, even though you’re 90% sure you passed out halfway on it. Your shorts are unbuttoned but not off and all the lights in the bedroom are off. When you make your way to the bathroom, you peek over at Ashton on the couch and he’s sprawled on his stomach, only in his boxer briefs. It’s then you realize it’s still ungodly hot in the suite. You shut the bathroom door, turn on the light and take a quick look at yourself in the mirror before deciding you need to wash your face before going back to bed.

You're in no rush as you use the toilet, wash your face and brush your teeth. It's been an exhausting day and you could use the alone time. You're careful to shut off the light before you open the door and start to tiptoe your way back to bed.

You nearly jump out of your skin when a gruff voice barks at you, "Think you could make any more noise in there, princess?" You're livid but you say nothing and lay back down.

When you wake up in the morning, you’ve managed to almost completely forget about sharing your room with Ash. So it’s a rude awakening when you find him emerging from the bathroom with a towel slung low on his hips, water dripping from his hair, muscles rippling as he starts digging through his drawers.

“Oh... the princess has decided to grace us,” he rolls his eyes, seeing you’re awake. “You’ve got like 45 minutes till we all do breakfast and judging by the way your phone has been buzzing, someone thinks I killed you last night.”

You groan and wipe your hand over your face, “More like making sure I didn’t kill you.”

As you reach for your phone on the nightstand, you realize the sheets are sticking to your skin which is covered in sweat. "Did the front desk say what time they were coming to fix the air? And Jesus, as if this place wasn't humid enough, why exactly did you need to take the world's steamiest shower?"

“Gotta relax these muscles after sleeping on the world's most uncomfortable couch, sweetheart,” he retorts. “And no, I was not given an ETA but I’m sure when we go down for breakfast you can complain again. Maybe if you do it, it’ll get fixed faster,” he snarks.

You roll your eyes and grab something to wear from your drawers, slamming the bathroom door behind you.

You take a cold shower, partly to wake you up and partly to cool you down (and mostly because Ash definitely used all the hot water on purpose). Even without creating steam, the bathroom is sweltering so as soon as you get dressed, you crack the door open in hopes of maintaining some airflow. You throw your hair in a ponytail and are applying a basic face of makeup when you feel Ash's eyes boring into you.

You look behind you through the mirror and see him propped up against the door frame, observing. "We're just going to breakfast, not the royal ball, Princess. You don't need all that shit."

“Why’s it any of your business?” You ask, staring at him in the mirror. You wait a beat and then work on finishing your makeup, topping off with mascara and lip gloss.

"Just an observation," he begins but is cut off by a knock at the front door. He leaves to answer and you take a few deep breaths to relax yourself. All you have to do is get down to breakfast and then you can enjoy the company of the people you actually came on this trip to spend time with. You hear Ash loudly joking with someone and you exit the bathroom hoping to see a handyman on the receiving end of his banter, but it's just Luke and Sierra.

Sierra smiles at you, “Hey beautiful, how’d you sleep?” She asks.

“I think the only reason I slept so well is because I drank so much. It’s fuckin hot in here.”

“It’s bad in our room too,” Luke shares. “We tried to call maintenance but no ETA on when they’ll be up, sounded like we weren’t the only ones suffering.” He shrugs.

Sierra notes your look of concern and interjects, "But we've got a ton of fun shit planned for the day so we won't be in our rooms too much anyways and hopefully it'll all be sorted when we get back!"

Luckily you were able to get some much needed space from Ashton during breakfast. You sat at opposite ends of the table and Sierra and Crystal did their best to keep your mind off of things.

"Sorry I'm being such a bitch, you guys," you confess during a trip to the ladies' room. "I don't want you to feel like you have to baby-sit me the whole time, you're supposed to be enjoying the time off you have with your guys."

"Babe, we get it," Crystal reassures you. "It's not like this thing with you and Ash is anything new, we're all used to having to navigate it."

"And it's fine, sometimes people just don't get along," Sierra chimes in. "You're not obligated to like all of your friends' friends. We’re all adults, we can handle it."

After breakfast you do a few touristy things and a little bit of shopping before going back to the resort to prep for some much needed beach time.

Ash scoffs as you sort through bikinis, “How many of those fuckin things did you need to bring? Are you going to be ready anytime soon?”

“It’s not like you’re actually waiting for me anyway,” you murmur, otherwise ignoring him.

But he’s not ignoring you, he’s watching your body move through the space, clad only in the bikini you selected. And it almost makes him more annoyed the way you definitely seem to be so confident in it. “Was that your best one?” He snarks.

"Sorry that some of us are actually into making an effort," you shrug. "And why is it your new favorite hobby to just stand there and watch me get ready, don't you have anything better to do?"

You shove past him in the doorway to fetch your beach bag out of the closet. The room's swampy temperature has not improved and you hate that you can feel the transfer of sweat from his skin to yours when you brush up against him.

“I was just trying to be polite and wait for you to head down but I didn’t realize it'd be such an ordeal,” he grumbles, slipping his sandals on. “Fucking ridiculous,” he mumbles to himself.

“No one asked you to wait, just fuckin go, Irwin. I don’t need an escort,” you exclaim, pulling on a pair of shorts.

“An escort is probably the only way you’d get laid with that attitude,” he gruffs, slamming the hotel room door behind him.

You ball your fists up in rage and whip a sandal towards the door. It hits with a satisfying smack and you can't help but wish you had tossed it 15 seconds earlier so that noise would've come from the back of Ashton's head. You walk over to retrieve your shoe and are startled by the knock at the door.

You open it to find Cal with a half-amused, half-concerned expression on his face and his girlfriend looking bewildered. Their relationship was new and this was really the first she had experienced your dynamic with Ash in all of its dysfunctional glory.

"You doing alright?" He inquires, trying to peek inside the room behind you.

"I'm just ready to lay in the sun and not think about anything,” you say, grabbing your bag off the counter behind you and closing the door.

Turns out the sunshine and drinks was exactly what you needed to calm down and within an hour you were laughing and playing in the water with everyone, though you had to watch Ashton flirt with everything that moved, even encouraging them to call him “Daddy, because all his friends do.”

As much fun as you're having, you can't help but notice the heat of the day doesn't seem to be passing. Tired from being in the sun, everyone agrees to head back to their respective rooms for a short rest before meeting back up for a late dinner. You know even Ashton must be spent when the hot wind starts blowing your beach hat off your head and he retrieves it and returns it to you without comment.

“D’you wanna shower first?” He asks, when the two of you return to the room. “Think you got some extra sun,” he mentions. “I can put aloe on if you need.”

“First shower would be great, thanks,” you yawn. “You'll probably need some aloe on your neck and shoulders. I have some if you didn’t bring any,” you offer and then head for the bathroom.

You take your brief shower and come out in just a towel. You grab the aloe, gently toss it to Ash and he makes quick work, lightly coating your red skin in the gel.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

“Don’t mention it,” he says, capping it and heading for his own shower.

It doesn't hit you how weird it was to have a pleasant interaction with Ash until after you're dressed. You're rooting around in the suite's fridge for cold water and without thinking, you place two on the counter. You stare at the bottles for a beat, almost as if they appeared there on their own.

"One of those for me?" Ash's voice asks from behind you, startling you out of your confusion.

"I... guess so?" You answer with a shrug, turning to hand him the beverage. He's shirtless and the pair of athletic shorts he's chosen for his post-shower attire hang low on his hips and you wonder why you've made note of that.

“Thanks?” He replies, equally confused. “Wanna watch some tv?” He asks.

“Sure,” you shrug. He clears his stuff off the couch and you sit at opposite ends. You doze off before you even decide on what to watch.

You awaken to the sound of both your and Ash's phones vibrating on the coffee table. You're disoriented but cognizant enough to realize you must have slept through the time you agreed to meet for dinner.

“Oh shit,” you murmur, wiping the sleep from your eyes. You grab your phone and look at the texts and quickly shoot off a reply.

-fell asleep, be down soon-

You gently shake Ash, “Hey they’re waiting on us, we fell asleep.” You wait to see him open his eyes and then you flit off to change into a sundress. “Why is it so hot? It must be cooler outside by now.”

“Open the balcony door,” Ash sleepily replies, peeling himself off the couch. He quickly changes into black jeans and a short sleeve button down.

You throw on sandals and mascara and are ready, quickly, which he appreciates.

Some of your friends trade surprised looks when they see you two peacefully arriving together but none of them comment on it.

You join the group and you all walk together to the restaurant you agreed on for dinner, at the far end of the resort.

Since you and Ash delayed things slightly, the place is crowded and you have to wait by the bar while the staff finds seating to accommodate your large party. Ash volunteers to order drinks for everyone while you wait and you can't decide if it's endearing or annoying that he brings you a vodka soda without you having to tell him what you want.

Once you’re seated, Luke and Sierra voluntarily put space between you and Ashton but he still ends up across from you. You don't mind his presence as much as you thought you would.

The air conditioning appears to be working on this side of the resort, the cold drinks are flowing and you feel yourself truly relax for the first time since you arrived. You even catch yourself laughing at a couple of playfully snarky comments Ash tosses at Luke's expense.

You reach across the table to grab the pitcher of water as you’re all winding down and your arm knocks Cal’s drink, spilling it all over him and Ash. Ash blows his top, going out of his way to make a scene. Everyone tries to move past it but you know all the headway you two had made going into tonight was probably ruined as he refused to let it go, continuing to groan about his wet shirt and jeans.

"If the air hasn't been fixed, our room is probably so hot it'll dry the second we walk in," you joke, trying to lighten the mood.

"Is this fucking funny to you?" He sneers, forcefully tossing his napkin on to the table.

“It is kind of funny, Ash,” Cal says, trying to calm the situation down.

“I said I was sorry,” you shrug. “It’s not like I meant to.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he snarls, storming off to the bathroom.

Defeat settles into your features, upset from the interaction, being tired and the ungodly heat you knew you were about to face. “I’m gonna head up to bed,” you announce, kissing Sierra and Crystal on the cheek. You wave at the rest of the group while Luke stands to give you a hug.

You hear Cal’s girlfriend, “That was a little harsh of him.”

“It’s just the way they’ve always been,” he explains quietly.

When you pass by him, Michael stops you and offers to walk you back since it's dark out and a bit of a journey to where your rooms are but you wave him off, you're looking forward to being alone.

Heading out of the restaurant, you cross paths with Ash and his eyes shoot daggers at you but he says nothing. As you push through the door, you hear him loudly complain to nobody in particular, "She gets to run off and act like this is MY fault again?"

You ignore it, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

Once you get back, you change and pour yourself a vodka soda. The room is still unbearably hot so you lay across the bed checking your phone, and take advantage of the breeze coming through the balcony door.

About 20 minutes later, you're in the bathroom washing your face when you hear the front door slam and Ash barges into the suite like a tornado; he cranks the TV for no apparent reason, bangs around in the fridge and slams some drawers with little regard for who or what he disturbs. You give a silent thanks for the fact that the surrounding rooms all belong to your friends so you don't have to feel embarrassment on top of everything else.

You brace yourself for whatever you're going to encounter on the other side of the door and turn the knob. You immediately stumble on Ash's still damp clothes, which he evidently stripped off as soon as he walked in the room. You roll your eyes but as an act of good faith, pick them up and hang them over the side of the bathtub to dry. You exit the bathroom once more and find him standing in front of the balcony, clad only in his boxer briefs. "How is it still so goddamn hot in here?" He says, exasperated.

“I don’t think they even came to look at the AC,” you observe. “I really am sorry about the drink, Ash,” you murmur at his back. You’re having a hard time tearing your eyes away from his back and thick arms. Your eyes take in the tattoo on the back of his neck. You let out an audible sigh, accidentally.

“Don’t mention it,” he says looking back at you, face red, indicating he was still kind of heated.

"It's just... we had a pretty nice time this afternoon and I was kind of starting to enjoy the peace," you start.

"You know, that's one of the things I've never liked about you?" He says with a calmness that betrays the harshness of his remark. "You're one of those people who can't STAND not being liked by everyone. I feel bad for you." His brow furrows as if in deep thought.

“I don’t need everyone to like me, I just need to know what the fuck I’ve ever done to you, you fuckin fake deep thot. You know everyone sees right through your bullshit? Your fans and your friends, just humor you.”

"You seem to put a lot of stock in what other people think, is all I meant," he says, seemingly unaffected by your words. "And you especially seem to pay a lot of fuckin attention to what people think about me."

“I actually couldn’t give a fuck less what people think about you, but when you parade around like some sort of imbecile, having random people call you ‘daddy’ because wow what a fuckin turn on - girls with daddy issues- it’s fuckin ridiculous, Ashton. You walk around here acting like I have the holier than thou attitude but it’s you thinking you’re some big shot because you have a few gold records. That doesn’t mean shit in Hollywood, every third fucking barista has a gold record and then flopped. Congrats you’re well on your way to being a 4th rate barista, I’m sure your father is so proud.”

Even as it left your mouth, you knew the dad line was too far.

You stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, your words hanging in the air. His jaw twitches but doesn't clench. You briefly think to apologize but part of you is still stunned by what you just said and part of you doesn't want to prove his point about caring what he thinks. He considers your statement for a beat more and then finally, he chuckles darkly. He stalks past you without a word and slams the bathroom door.

You stalk toward the bed and grab a pillow to scream into. It’s barely been a full 24 hours and you’re convinced you’ll have the drummer of 5sos dead within another 24. You’re pissed at him for being cocky and hot... wait, what the fuck? You’re pissed at your friends for putting you in this situation.

You forgo the glass and grab the bottle of vodka, setting up on the balcony because at least it’s cooler than the room, and you seethe.

You instinctively start to text Sierra to vent about the incident but ultimately decide you and Ash have done enough damage to everyone's morale for the night. You settle for absentmindedly playing a game on your phone to take your mind off things. You eventually hear Ashton back in the room but you promise yourself you're not going to be the one to apologize first. He has to come to you. And it’s just easier if the two of you let it cool for a minute.

He comes out to the balcony, watching you shotgun straight from the bottle. He drags a chair to the other side of the balcony. “I know you know that was a cunty thing to say,” he says quietly. “You’ve definitely got a way with insults though.”

You don’t respond because you don’t know how, but you exchange a glance in acknowledgment.

You both sit in silence and while the tension between you is thick, you're still able to find comfort in the relatively cool night air and the unspoken truce. You zone out, questioning if this trip is even remotely salvageable and how to proceed with Ashton from here. After a while, you look down at your phone and notice the time, you've been out here longer than you thought. You glance over at Ash, who's scrawling away in some sort of journal, with those goddamn headphones on again.

You stumble over to him and tap what your brain notes is an unreasonable large shoulder, "Hey, 's late."

“Careful, Princess,” he says, pulling his headphones off and resting them on his neck, he checks his phone for the time. “Yeah, it is. Let’s get you to bed.” He breathes, standing quicker than you thought any person should.

He holds your arm, walking you to the bed. You know you’re drunk but you can’t help the words that spill from your lips, “Should stay in tha bed.” You don’t let him go as he gently pulls from your grasp.

“You're drunk and we’re both likely to be pissed in the morning. I’ll get you a water,” he mentions, walking away.

You do everything in your power to stay awake for the 90 seconds he’s away and you latch back onto his larger than normal forearm when he comes back. “Don’t leave me alone,” you whimper.

His gaze focuses on your hand on his arm and then shifts to your face, which he searches carefully. "You're not serious," he declares.

"Bed's closer t’window, can leave it open." You sit up and take a sip from the water he sat on the nightstand. "You'll be more comfortable. No big deal." You shrug and lay back down as if this offer was the most casual conversation you've ever had. To be honest, it probably was one of the more casual conversations the two of you had ever shared.

“I’m not staying because you asked,” he clarifies. “I’m staying because that breeze can’t be beat.”

Ash climbs in the bed in just his underwear and he scoffs a little when you strip off your shorts and tank top, leaving you in a sports bra and panties for bed. “Why are you constantly taking your clothes off in front of me? Sobriety might do you some favors,” he grumbles, getting comfortable on the other side of the bed.

"Doing you a favor by letting you see my bangin' bod," you drunkenly giggle. "And please, I've seen your naked torso more times on this trip than I've seen my own." You blow a raspberry that goes on for a little longer than you intended, given your inebriated state.

“Well you definitely take care of yourself.” He agrees, ignoring your childish behavior.

You plant a pillow between the two of you and turn off the lamp, “Night ‘Shton.” You murmur, cuddling into the bed.

“Night.” He stares at your back in the dark for a while. Not understanding this new feeling creeping up, or caring why the hell you look so good. It’s not the first time he’s seen you like this, but it is the first time he’s wanted your attention.

You wake up a few hours later, dying of thirst. You spot the water on your nightstand and lunge for it a little too quickly and your head starts to spin. As you gulp it down, you remember you invited Ashton to stay with you and your eyes dart to the other side of the bed. The moonlight pouring in from the open balcony shines on his near naked form and it's a sight to behold. You look him up and down, though you're not sure why. You think to yourself how much easier it is to find him attractive when he's not speaking.

You admire him for as long as your drunk brain can handle, before drunkenly texting what you think is just Sierra -he’s pretty when he’s quiet- and you barely put your phone face down on the table before passing back out.

Your drunk brain processes your slight attraction and the fact that you begged for him to stay better than you’d ever let your sober brain and it creates quite the dirty dream about the man sleeping next to you. Your brain reminds you just how much of a man he is and how easily he’d toss you around.

You’re awoken by your own moan and open your eyes to see Ashton staring at you from the next pillow, eyebrow cocked.

"Sleep well, princess?" He smirks.

You shove your pillow over your face, half out of embarrassment, half out of necessity because the sun shining into the room is BRIGHT and your head is pounding. "It's too early and I'm too hungover for you to use that tone of voice with me, Irwin."

“Not very often I have girls moaning in bed before I’ve even touched them,” he says, sounding bemused.

You groan and reach for your phone, closing one eye and turning down the brightness before unlocking it. You realize the text you thought you sent to Sierra also had Luke, Michael and Crystal on it. Luke commented about you getting soft for Ashton, which vaguely enrages you around your headache.

“Not like I’m moaning for you,” you quip, slowly moving toward the bathroom.

Ash is still laying on the bed when you return. “Still fuckin hot,” he grumbles.

Your phone buzzes and you look at it, Luke had forwarded a text from the hotel, - heat warning in place, advising everyone stays inside, hydrated and cooled.-

You throw yourself back on the bed in disbelief. "This can't be happening."

Ash turns on his side to face you, a little closer than you'd like both because of the heat and because of the dream you had. "What's the matter, princess?" He says with a teasing lilt to his voice.

"Stop calling me princess," you grumble and shove your phone in his face.

“Yeah, I already saw. Don’t worry I plan to escape this room as soon as humanly possible,” he admits. “Just waiting for Cal to get his lazy ass up.”

“Are you ever just like... nice to anyone?” You shove your face back in the pillow. The sun really is too bright and you can’t take it.

"Are you ever just like... not super judgmental?" He mocks, getting out of bed and pulling the curtains shut for you. "I've been pretty nice the past couple nights putting your drunk ass to bed. You thought I was nice enough when you begged me to sleep in your bed."

“I didn’t beg for anything from you. And I’m more than capable of putting my own drunk ass to bed... you just think you’re better than everyone because you got sober when you realized you couldn’t handle your alcohol. Seriously, if the worst fuckin thing I’ve done is offer you a spot In my bed where it’s more comfortable then that’s worlds better than the damage and destruction you’ve undoubtedly caused in your drunk state,” you spew.

"You're unfuckingbelievable, you know that?" He shakes his head. "There's no WAY anything I've ever said to you has warranted some of the shit you've said to me recently. You always gotta take it too far, always gotta get personal. And I’M supposed to be the asshole?"

“Just shut the fuck up, Ash... I can’t. I’m done. I don’t have the energy. This trip was supposed to be relaxing.” You groan, plopping the pillow over your head.

"Cool. Good talk," he says dismissively and heads for the shower.

You stick your middle finger up in the direction he headed off. You sigh loudly when you hear the water turn on. “What the fuck happened,” you ask yourself, exasperated, thinking over the last couple days and how the day before you and Ash had been chill for at least a few hours. “I just need to shut my fucking mouth,” you decide. “The only way to salvage this trip now.”

You must have dozed off again because the next thing you know Ashton is standing over you -shirtless in those athletic shorts again, goddammit- and poking at you with his room keycard. "The fuck?" You say with only moderate interest.

"Oh good, you're up," he jokes. God, he's insufferable. "Cal and I went downstairs and they've closed the restaurant dining rooms but they're still offering room service. I need to know if you want breakfast."

“Yeah... pancakes.” You wave him off. “..Bacon and hash browns...” You murmur out, going back to sleep.

A short while later you wake to the smell of maple syrup. You drag yourself out of bed and follow the scent to where Ash is sat on the couch, already eating, full breakfast spread out on the coffee table. "Gee thanks for letting me know the food was here," you snipe without thinking. Dammit. You've already forgotten your plan to keep your mouth shut.

Luckily, as you've learned is the norm, he's preoccupied with something on his phone. "Uh-huh," is the only response you get.

You grab your plate and get a water out of the fridge and then sit at the end of the coffee table furthest from Ashton.

“I hope it cools down some tomorrow,” You mumble, mouth full of food.

“What was that? Speak up princess,” he says pointedly to you.

“I just said I hope it cools off. So we can go back to the beach tomorrow,” you shrug, digging into your food.

"You mean we all didn't fly all the way over here to sit in our hotel rooms with broken AC?" He mocks for no apparent reason.

You roll your eyes but keep your mouth shut, not looking to give him the benefit of another snarky comeback. You eat as much of your plate as you can manage before heading off to shower. To your slight dismay, he’s still sitting on the couch on his phone when you get done.

“Ash.” You mention quietly, his head tilts up but his eyes don’t leave his phone. “Do you think you could do the aloe again?”

His eyes snap to you and he stares for a minute before nodding. “Uh... yeah,” he agrees.

You grab the bottle and sit next to him as he does your back and your shoulders. “Sorry I always take it too far,” you apologize.

He breathes out forcefully and you can feel it on your neck. It gives you goosebumps. He seems to be choosing his words carefully before landing on "Just seems like you don't think about some of the stuff you spit out in anger." His hands stop working over your skin. "I talk shit and yeah I get you think I'm an asshole, but I have never nor would I ever say anything to you as disrespectful as some of the things you've said to me," he says with a quiet firmness.

You nod, because you know he’s right and you chew on the inside of your cheek for a moment, thinking carefully on your own words.

“I know. I don’t have an excuse. You get under my skin and it’s always guards up with you. Sometimes we’ll be just fine and then you’ll turn on a dime, like last night at dinner. Easier to push you away and keep you at arms length than to let my guard down because I don’t know when you’re gonna snap.”

"Right because this continues to be exclusively my fault," he says condescendingly and sits back on the couch.

You take a few deep breaths and then get up, leaving him to sit while you go change.

You come back out, sports bra and lounge shorts and look at him.

“I’m just trying to be nice. It’s my fault too, I know that. I was explaining why I get that way. I know I’m like that, and I’m working on it. I was just trying to clue you in on a trigger.” You sigh and then head back to the bed, collapsing on it.

He bounds over to you, not ready to let this go. "Sorry to break this deluded narrative you've constructed, princess, but 'I'm only a bitch because you make me one' isn't a trigger, it's an excuse and a weak one at that."

His face is flushing and his chest is bright red. You know he's getting heated and you know it's not just the tropical climate of the room.

"You've been like this with me from the second you met me, it's like you never had any intention of liking me and fuck getting to know me." He raises his voice, "If I'm such a shitty person then why are literally all of your friends friends with me? You ever think about that, sweetheart?"

“Well that's a two way street, Irwin,” you huff out. “You’ve never tried to get to know me either. So before you come over here acting like you’re any better than me, remember when you point a fucking finger there’s three pointing back at you.”

You stand to square off with him, like the fight is going to get physical. You know better than to think Ash would lay a hand on you but you’re prepared for anything in this moment. The blood is rushing in your ears again.

"I never said you were a shitty person," he says lowly, stepping closer to you. "I just said you were a judgemental, inconsiderate hypocrite and I don't like you."

“I’ve never said you were a shitty person either, I just think you’re an asshole with entitlement issues that definitely needs to take a look in a mirror when slinging his insults,” you say quietly, also stepping closer to him.

"Sounds like we have a lot more in common than we realize then," he challenges, staring you down with fire in his eyes.

“Seems like if either of us had taken even five minutes to consider the other, then maybe this all could have been avoided.” You don’t waiver, standing your ground. “And maybe, we could have spared our friends.”

It seems like he's about to move somehow even closer to you but the sound of his phone buzzing on the coffee table cuts through the tense air. "Finally something we agree on," he mutters under his breath as he stomps away to check it.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. You realize it was in anticipation but you don’t know what you were waiting for.

You collapse back on the bed, grabbing for your phone. You make a mental note of how his phone is more important than any person in front of him and you slink back into your normal feelings about him.

A couple hours pass of you dutifully ignoring each other with your phones. But the heat is unrelenting and eventually the scorching sunlight starts pouring in directly onto the bed. Even with the curtains shut, the warmth is sickening and you have no choice but to find another place to relax.

Obviously the balcony is out of the question until the sun sets. You huff to yourself and head for the couch where Ashton is sprawled out.

“Can I sit?” You ask.

“Your space is over there,” he says pointing to the bed. “This is my space and it’s probably best we keep the two separate.”

“It’s too hot over there, even with the curtains closed,” you whine.

“It’s what you wanted,” Ash cocks an eyebrow and doesn’t move a muscle.

"Are you fucking serious, Irwin? You're being a child, just move over."

He looks directly at you and stretches his large frame even further down the length of the couch.

"Sorry, Princess. No room at the inn. Think I saw a cot in the closet."

“Selfish prick.” You mumble, turning to walk away.

But that gets him up. “What’d you just say?” He asks, tone sharp.

“I called you a selfish prick,” you whip around, saying it louder.

"Aww, did Princess get her feelings hurt because someone finally won't cater to her every fuckin whim?"

“Literally nothing about this trip has gone my way. You show up last minute and I have to share my fucking room with you because there’s nowhere else for you to stay? Excuse me for thinking for a minute that you might be fucking polite enough to accommodate me a little. Thankless asshole.”

"Didn't realize you were so affected by the mere presence of me," he says with a dark cockiness. He gets in your face. "And I'm gettin real tired of hearing you call me an asshole, Princess."

“And I’m getting real fucking tired of your condescending ‘Princess’ nickname, so I guess we’re both just fucked here.”

"Ohhh I think the name suits you just fine, Princess." He's impossibly close to you now, practically nose to nose. "Unrealistic expectations for everyone and everything. Particular. Judgy. Demanding. Keep waiting for you to tell me to bow down, Princess.”

“I doubt you're good at anything that’d require you to be on your knees, including bowing down.” Your eyes narrow.

“Shouldn’t I say that to you?” He snorts.

"Well then we'd have to add 'liar' to the list of your many offenses."

“Can’t make claims like that without backing them up.”

You roll your eyes. "Is that the only way to get you to shut the fuck up for once? Figures," you sneer. You involuntarily lick your lips and you regret it the second you do, he definitely notices.

“Blow. Me. Princess.” He enunciates.

You're not sure where this audacity comes from but you grab at his crotch. OH. He's more than half-hard in your hand. Your heart is pounding from what you assumed was anger but you're now realizing may be something else. You lean into his ear, hardening cock still in hand and challenge breathily, "Make me."

He inhales sharply, “Gladly.” He pushes you to your knees, pushing your hand away so he can drop his shorts, he does a couple quick tugs to get himself fully hard before pressing his tip against your lips. “Open.” He quietly demands in a way that says not to fuck with him, so you do what he asks.

He taps his cock up and down, over and over your open lips. You make a point of maintaining direct eye contact with him when you jut out your tongue defiantly, catching on a vein, making him groan.

You grab it from him and he easily lets go, curious of what you’ll do. You lick the underside from base to tip and slowly rub your hand over his length, placing sloppy wet kisses along the shaft to slick him up more.

You start suckling at the head, hoping to coax out some precum and you'd never admit to it but you accidentally let out a small moan when you feel the substance on your tongue. By the way Ash is tangling his hands in your hair, you can tell he's getting impatient. "Figures you'd be a fuckin tease," he critiques.

You slowly lick the tip a few times before taking him in your mouth, hoping it will shut him up. You slowly work your mouth up and down his cock, not really trying to take all of him, but enough to keep him quiet. Your eyes are still locked on his as you palm his balls.

He bites his lip and you wonder if it's because he's trying to hold back a snarky comment or a moan. You wonder why you care. Rather than unpack that thought, you decide to press your luck and take him down further. He's larger than you realized and he hits the back of your throat before you're ready and you gag. He grunts approvingly.

Of course he does, you think to yourself, annoyed.

His hand tightens more in your hair and he pushes you further, silently encouraging you to take his cock in your throat, so you do. He lets out a loud guttural moan.

“If I’d have known the way to shut you up was to put my cock down your throat, we would have done this years ago.” He gently caresses the side of your face.

You wish you didn't lean into his touch but you do. You wish you didn't like the weight of his cock on your tongue as much as you do but that's another thought entirely. You quickly determine you like this experience much more when your mind is quiet so you focus on making him moan loud enough to drown out your thoughts.

You confidently bob your head on his cock with the occasional detour to tongue at his balls. You make sure your methods are as loud and as messy as possible. He's easy to read, you know what he likes without you being told.

Your jaw aches a bit from having your mouth open that wide for him but it’s a minor inconvenience for hearing his moans, tasting him. Shutting him up.

“I was wrong about you,” he murmurs. “You can suck a cock.” He smirks and you flick his thigh.

You give him a good suck just to hear his breath catch before you pull off. "And I was wrong about you," you pant, wiping your mouth sinfully. "Turns out there is one thing about you I don't mind." You flick your tongue over his slit to punctuate your point.

He snorts and looks down at you, yanking your hair so that you meet his gaze. "Tired of you running that goddamn mouth of yours, Princess. Mind if I fuck it?"

“Wish you’d fuck something around here,” you saltily reply.

“I promise I’ll find another wet hole to ruin as well.” He grips your hair in both hands and guides your mouth back on his cock. He gets a couple slow test thrusts in to get you used to it before he starts full force face fucking you. It doesn’t take long for him to grunt and fill your mouth with cum and he holds you on his cock, without being in your throat. “Swallow it,” he demands.

You moan around him and do as he says, though you intentionally let some dribble out of your mouth, mostly to be defiant but also because you think that's something he'd like to see.

“Cheeky little fuck," he murmurs, wiping the cum with his thumb and pushing it into your mouth. “Better than I thought you’d be for a pillow princess.”

“Not at all a pillow princess and you'd better be returning that favor.”

He clicks his tongue and pulls you up off your knees. "There you go with your demands again, Princess," he says, stripping you naked in record time. "But I'll definitely do you a favor, sweetheart. I'll bet you've been dripping for me since you first got those pretty lips around my cock."

“Try when I first got my hand on your cock.”

Ash looks at you, gropes both of your tits and pinches your nipples, pulling them a bit. You let out a little whine and he smirks and drops to his knees, quickly hooking one leg over his shoulder. He flicks his tongue along your clit before licking around your opening. “Very wet... Princess likes to suck cock.”

"I like doing things I'm good at." You hope it comes out as confident as you intended but an accidental whine swallows the last word of your sentence.

Ash pulls his face away and chuckles. He slides his hand up your thigh and lightly rubs your slit with his fingers before applying pressure on your clit. “I’ll give you credit, you were good at it.” He smirks, quickly pushing the two fingers in and then pulling them out with a bit of a twist, at an agonizingly slow pace. He watches your face and feels you get a little wobbly on one leg so he grabs you, pushes you back onto the couch. He wraps his arm around one thigh and pushes your other to spread you. He continues the slow pace with his fingers and rolls his tongue over your clit.

You run your fingers through his hair and breathe deep. You'd be lying if you said he didn't know what he was doing. He catches your clit between his lips and sucks hard. You shudder and tug at his hair harder than you mean to. For a split second you think to apologize but he lets out a groan indicating he didn't mind the pain one bit. He sucks over your clit again and you pull even harder just to hear that noise.

The back and forth continues until he draws out a very loud moan from you. You don’t even think twice about the fact that your friends' rooms are around yours. “Fuck, Ashton, yes!” You whine.

He pulls back to nip and suck marks onto your inner thighs. "That's the most positive thing you've said to me this entire trip, sweetheart, I like it." He lifts your leg and pushes his fingers in as deep as he can. "Princess gonna do me the honor of cumming for me?"

“Please make me cum for you!” It sounds desperate even in your own ears but you can’t seem to care about it.

His smirk is definitely making you more wet at this point and he notices. “So slippery in here. Can't believe I finally found a way to make you agreeable," he taunts, slowly thumbing your clit.

You hate that his cockiness is threatening to send you over the edge at this point. "Ash... God, Ash, please," you plead.

“Alright alright... don’t need you begging me just yet.” He brings his mouth back to your clit and sucks hard so you’ll yank his hair. His fingers are pumping at an ungodly pace.

“Yes fuck right there, like that.”

Your chest is heaving and Ash thinks he likes the view. “Can you be any louder?” He teases.

"Give me a reason and we'll see," you manage to pant out.

He sharply slaps your inner thigh, over one of the marks he'd already left, fingers grazing your pussy as he does. You do indeed, cry out louder.

"Don't get smart with me when I'm about to make you cum, sweetie, you won't like the outcome. I promise you," he warns.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please make me cum,” you whine. “Ashton, please!” The whine is loud and the moan when he goes back in with three fingers is obscene. He pushes you until you fall over the edge, chanting "Ash" and tugging his hair while he slowly licks over your clit.

You whimper and writhe as he expertly works you through your orgasm, easing the curling of his fingers as he feels you finish pulsing around them. He dutifully cleans you with his tongue until you're pushing his head away, too sensitive to take any more stimulation.

He lifts his fingers to your mouth and traces one across your lips, coating them in your juices. You look directly at him as you lick them carefully, groaning at your own taste. You keep the eye contact going as you reach for his hand and draw the rest of his fingers into your mouth, sucking them clean.

“Naughty little slut, aren’t you?” He comments, watching in awe. “Be surprised if our friends didn’t just hear that little show.”

“Like I give a flying fuck," you murmur, pulling his fingers from your mouth.

He smiles as he runs his hands over your tits, giving them an appreciative squeeze. "Gotta tell ya, Princess, I'm finding that you're full of surprises."

You sit up and reach for his cock, which you're pleased to find already hard for you again. "Gotta tell ya," you mimic his smarmy cadence. "I'd rather be full of this." You give him a squeeze for emphasis.

He grins and gets in your face. "Greedy too?" He places his hand over yours and you begin slowly stroking him. "My kind of girl." You feel his breath on your face and you wonder if he's finally going to kiss you. You wonder why you want him to.

Instead of waiting on him, you push slightly forward and press your lips to his and the kiss quickly gets deepened.

When you come up for air, he cocks an eyebrow at you, “Couldn’t take anymore of your talking.” You shrug.

He pushes forward and kisses you again. “I want you over the fuckin couch,” he growls. You know he means business, so you quickly turn.

His first priority is to land a hard smack on your ass. You probably should've expected it but you yelp loudly nonetheless. Satisfied with both your reaction and the red mark decorating your ass cheek, he delivers a blow to the other side to match.

“Fuckkk me," you moan, wiggling your ass in front of him.

"Oh is that what you want from me, Princess?" He teases, running his cock over your thighs and ass, everywhere except your throbbing core. You hear a whine you don't recognize escaping your throat when you feel drops of precum drizzling onto your skin.

"Even with my ass in the air for you, you've still gotta talk shit," you groan in frustration.

He slicks the tip through your folds and you press your face against the back of the couch in anticipation. “If you fuck half as good as you lick, I think we can be friends," you smirk.

“All you need to worry about is if you can take my cock.” He lands another smack to your ass.

“My throat took it just fine.” You look over your shoulder and wink at him.

"Alright, alright, that's enough out of you," he starts to push in and you gasp at the feeling. He snorts. "My throat took it just fine," he mocks, sinking in more.

He does a couple shallow thrusts before pushing in further. You push your hips back to meet him, taking his cock all the way.

You moan loudly, “Never been so full in my life.”

Ashton spanks you again, ensuring he's gonna be leaving your ass red and sore. He gives a couple slow thrusts and then stops. “You want this cock, Princess? Get it.” He lands a smack to the other side of your ass.

You take his challenge, finding a rhythm as you throw yourself back on his cock. He watches, fascinated at the sight of his length disappearing inside you again and again. He holds your hips tight enough that you'll undoubtedly have bruises. "You look real good fucking yourself on my cock, Princess," he groans.

“Feels phenomenal," you breathe. You brace your arms on the back of the couch and look back at him while you take his cock. “Fuck yes, Ashton,” you pant.

He takes mercy on you and grips your hips tighter, deciding to take over for you. He pulls one leg up, rests his foot next to your thigh for more leverage and starts to pound into you.

The noises filling the room are obscene: heavy breathing, skin slapping against skin, the slick sounds of your arousal, the endless moans, groans and curses pouring from both your and Ash's mouths.

He pulls you by your hair up against his chest and roughly turns your face so he can sloppily kiss you. He pushes your face away when he's done. "All our friends definitely already heard you cum for me, think this time I can make you scream loud enough the whole floor will hear?"

“I don’t care who hears us at this point, I just need to cum on your cock,” you breathe. “Please," you ask nicely, tossing a smile over your shoulder for him.

The grin that graces his face says it all. He goes harder still. Your quiet whimpers quickly escalate into loud moans of begging.

He smacks your ass a few more times as well as your upper thighs for good measure. He presses into the already forming bruises on your hips. "Pleeease... Ashhh... Fuckkk," you whine, each word at least two syllables longer than usual.

He yanks on your hair and leans in to calmly command, "Cum for me, Princess. Wanna feel you all over my cock."

It sends you over the edge and you lean heavily against the back of the couch while he continues fucking you through your orgasm. His pace increases and then you hear his breath catch and you feel him cum inside you. He stays tucked against you for a minute. He shallow thrusts all the way in once more so you’ll remember how it felt.

“Holy fuck,” you groan.

Ash pets your hair and pulls out. You instantly feel the cum dripping down your thighs. “Don’t move,” he warns. He comes back moments later with a washcloth and cleans you up. You stay in position, panting over the back of the couch because you're unsure if you can even move at this point.

He runs a hand down your back with surprising tenderness. It's then that you realize how goddamn sweaty you are because of course you had to decide to have the most intense fuck of your life in a room that feels like it's on the 4th floor of hell.

"You ok, Princess?" Ash asks, sounding a bit unsure of himself. It's so unlike him. You're kind of into it.

“Yeah… it's just fuckin hot and now I’m fucked out. And I fuckin love it," you mumble against the couch.

“Wanna grab a cool shower... together?” He asks, ready for you to bite sarcasm at him.

“You might have to carry me, legs aren’t working,” you chuckle.

He stands and gestures for you to climb into his arms, "Well then, Princess, your chariot awaits."

You roll your eyes but you notice you don't feel your blood boiling as much as it usually does when he calls you that. You shift on the couch, he scoops you up and carries you into the bathroom, sitting you on the counter while he gathers towels and turns on the shower.

Once you’re under the cool water you relax and regain some composure. Ash gently grabs your chin and softly kisses you. “Gonna be honest, that’s not at all what I expected from you," he states and then fits your lips back together.

You raise an eyebrow, "Oh yeah? You spend a lot of time wondering what kind of lay I'd be, Irwin?" You tease, softly biting his lip.

“Well no... not really. Maybe a couple masturbatory fantasies about hate fucking you, but you were tied up and gagged for those…" he explains, gently rubbing his soapy hands over your red ass and bruised hips. "Just with who you’ve been to me, I didn’t assume you’d beg to cum on my cock."

You smirk, "Tied up and gagged, huh? Well let's put a pin in that conversation..."

He shakes his head and grins at you.

"To be honest I didn't expect to hear those things come out of my mouth either," you admit, pausing to hiss when his fingers brush over a particularly sore mark. "But to be fair, based on your past behavior I didn't see you as the type to gingerly clean me up after you came inside me."

“I’ve got a thing for after care, not really a 'fuck em and leave em' type of guy,” he shrugs.

“What are our friends gonna say?” You wonder.

“I have no idea but I’m betting both of our phones are buzzing off the hook right now," he laughs.

“No doubt about that... so are we going for round two later or was this a one time thing?” You smile playfully.

He purses his lips as if deeply considering it and you briefly wonder if you'd gotten too comfortable and embarrassed yourself but then he presses you up against the shower wall.

"Like I said before, such a greedy Princess," he teases before crashing his lips into yours with a groan.

After a short makeout, you end your shower and the first thing you both do is go to your phones. Ash snorts. “Cal just sent a bunch of the side eye emojis," he announces.

“Crystal and Mike want to know where I am because something is definitely going on in my room,” you giggle.

You change into your shorts and a fresh bralette and Ash pulls the black athletic shorts back on. He gives you a quick kiss but is interrupted by a knock at your door. He answers it as you settle on the couch.

It’s Luke and Sierra. Luke seems chill but Sierra pushes her way into the room and looks astonished she sees you on the couch.

"Hey sweetie," she greets you with what sounds like surprise in her voice.

"Hey guys," you start but you can tell their attention is focused elsewhere, eyes darting around the room and exchanging wide-eyed glances with each other.

Ash shoots you an amused look but you subtly shake your head at him, waiting to see where this goes.

“Hey… just wanted to check on you guys. There was a lot of noise coming from what we thought was your room.” Sierra looks confused.

“What kind of noise?” You ask.

“Sex noises, moaning, ‘fuck Ashton that’s so good’,” Luke mocks, eyeing the two of you.

Sierra playfully jabs him in his side and he yelps. "Or you know, something like that," he offers half-heartedly.

Ashton, barely keeping in a giggle, says with concern, "Oh I definitely didn't hear anything like that, did you Princess?"

“No... don’t think so, Ash. We’ve just been watching TV,” you explain to the suspicious couple.

“In here? In this room? Together?” Sierra clarifies, so much doubt in her voice and on her face.

“I swear we heard someone moaning Ashton’s name. Asking him to make her cum. Begging, really,” Luke muses with a smirk.

There's another knock on the door and Luke opens it. It's Cal, having walked over from across the hall. “Ok so did you guys hear that too?” He asks.

Luke stands in the doorway discussing the mystery with Cal while Sierra bewilderedly studies your faces.

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing when you hear Cal thinking out loud, "But how would he get a girl in here without her knowing?"

"No, man, she's been here the whole time."

"The WHOLE time?"

"Apparently."

"Well... I mean… Maybe… No..."

Sierra’s eyes narrow at you, “It was the two of you.” She determines, looking between you and Ashton. “You two hooked up...”

“You said I was crazy for suggesting that!” Luke laughs.

“I didn’t think she’d do it.” Sierra laughs in disbelief. “Holy shit.”

You realize Michael and Crystal must have visited Cal's room to discuss the incident because he shakes his head and announces behind him, "Mike, you were right."

You hear a shout of "Yay! No, wait, ew that's weird. Not yay" mixed with a quieter "Whyyy?" that must've come from Crystal.

You didn't think you were the blushing type but you feel your cheeks getting warmer and you hope everyone will assume it's the heat. But Ash notices and starts waving your friends out of the room, "Ok folks, show's over."

"So we're right then?" Luke teases.

"Get the fuck outta here," Ash playfully shoos him away.

Luke and Cal shuffle out while Sierra turns back and mouths "Oh my God?" at you and mimes for you to text her.

As Ash shuts the door behind them, you flop onto the bed, exhaling loudly. He laughs and climbs on next to you. He kisses your shoulder reassuringly. "You good?"

You turn to face him, "Yeah, they're just. A lot sometimes." He snorts in agreement. "Fuck, they're gonna be so obnoxious about this, what should we do?" You ask, curious for his opinion.

"Well," he starts but then kisses you long enough that you begin to wonder if he forgot he was in the middle of a sentence. He pulls away and looks at you mischievously. "I say we give them about 15 minutes to settle back into their rooms and then we really give them something to talk about."

Tag list: @cocktail-calum @1dthewantedlove @youngblood199456 @lustingforwunder @calumsphile @neso-k @rosecoloredash @radmcqueen @justayoungandwisefangirl @itsnotmyblood @lietoash @pushthetide21 @5sosfanficrec @therealmrshale @fallfrxmgrace @lukashemmos @justarandomgirlthatyoudontknow @5sos-microwave @madbomb @sweetheartmendes1000 @literally-anythin @lfwallscouldtalk @clemmingstylins0n @ccnicole02 @lustingfor5sos @buteverythingiscopacetic @rosesfromcth @bodaciousbonzi1996 @ashtontotheirwin @captainam-erika-trash @xxgendurvikixx @jazzyangel242 @bluebabycal @rhiannonmichellee @iovehemmings @glitterycalum1205 @katcontreras @cashtonasfuck @ificanthaveu @kindahoping4forever @here-for-the-uproars @canterburyfiction @opheliaaurora @queer-5sos @banditocth @gigglyirwin @glitterycalum1205 @rebelwith0utacause

gc tags: @sublimehood @sugarcoated-pain @5sosnsfw @angelbabylu @aspiringwildfire @irwinkitten @lashtoncurls @myloverboyash @singt0mecalum

masterlist || ashton || calum || luke || michael

wanna be tagged? go here

#it's ashton smut #ashton irwin #tropes on tropes on tropes #cass #crystal #friendship 🦦🦦#galaxy brain #idk where this came from #it's a 30 page doc #stay wet #enjoy #this is what we spent all night writing #crystal really is that bitch

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naerysthelonesome · 3 years

Text

Time spent together

Just a bunch of 3am coffee-induced Litpollo fics (they’re all related)

Part 1

College AU

Lit (Lityerses. Poor boy) is staring at Apollo, the tall, tan, lean but muscular, paragon of beauty with the most beautifully sculpted face I’ve ever seen (And believe me I’ve seen plenty), who’s currently shooting hoops in the basketball court. Off to the side, giving him pointers he does not need, is the smart-ass, Annabeth Chase. All right! Maybe I’m being a little harsh, but I’m really only here to talk about Lit and Apollo.

Oh look! Apollo’s attempting a backward jump shot.

Whatever. I’m sure he succeeds. The boy just cannot miss.

Let’s get back to Lit, shall we?

Of course. OF COURSE the angsty gay boy, with absolutely no social skills, falls for the gorgeous jock with a reputation for dazzling smiles, and leaving behind a trail of broken hearts.

May they can both bond over having the two most ridiculous names on campus.

If only I could tell Lit he looks ridiculous with his jaw hanging open like that. If only I could tell him that his being distracted by Apollo has put him in the path of that idiot Percy and his skateboard. Alas, I am only the narrator.

Percy crashes right into Lit, and they both tumble onto the ground like the pin-heads they are.

At least that caught the attention of the two blondes that caused this. They both jog over, Apollo letting out a short bark of laughter and Annabeth looking slightly concerned.

“Y’all okay?” the boy asks, standing over the two dark-haired dummies, shining like an angel and looking more picturesque than ever with the sun behind him.

“I- uh- Yeah”, Lit sputters. Of course he sputters. It’s quite understandable, honestly. At least he accepts the thinly veined, corded arm Apollo’s graciously reached out toward him.

“Percy! How many times have I told you to please watch where you’re going?” Annabeth asks exasperatedly. Percy does have quite a hit list.

“How can I look at anything but you, when you make it a point to look as gorgeous as that”, he says cheesily, gesturing up at her from the ground.

That draws a reluctant grin out of the girl.

“Oh shut up Perce!” she say, then turns to Lit, NOT graciously reaching an arm out to Percy.

“Sorry about that. My boyfriend’s a ditz”

“Yeah sorry”, Percy says standing up and grinning, “My girlfriend’s way to distracting for me not to be”.

I’m gonna throw up. Or at least I would, if I had a physical body.

“You are okay though, right?” Percy says to poor Lit, who’s been subjected to this disgusting gooeyness.

“Oh. Yeah yeah”, He says, now brushing gravel off his pants, “All good here”.

Annabeth mumbles something to Percy about getting late to class and they rush off. I really couldn’t care less.

Except.

This leaves Lit alone with Apollo.

Finally. They need to start talking. Like NOW. I can’t handle them throwing more furtive glances toward each other, and neither of the oblivious oglers picking up on any of it. IT’S BEEN TORTURE. (I should know. I’ve been tortured before.

“Oh! But how, Great narrator?!” you ask, “If you have no body?”

Well if you had any idea of the rules of etiquette, you’d know that that’s an incredibly rude question to ask. Therefore, we will be moving on)

Oh My God (not that I have one)! They’re talking! Now look what you’ve made me do. I’ve missed part of their conversation!

“Of course I like literature”, Lit says with a scoff, as if it’s obvious.

“All right all right”, Apollo relents, and then after a pause, “Can I walk you to class at least?”

“Oh” Is all the Lit the love-struck fool can say.

“Oh come on”, the golden boy say, grabbing Lit by the arm and hauling him in the direction of the west wing.

“Wait dumbass. I gotta get my books first!” he says pulling away from Apollo.

He runs a hand through his curls, and a blush creeps up Apollo’s slender neck. Of course, Lit doesn’t notice. It’s like they’re trying not to see the tell-tale signs of fist love!

“Just wait here a second, and I’ll fetch them”, Lit says and dashes away without waiting for a response.

Apollo’s hands find their way into his pockets, as he schools his face into bearing a nonchalant expression. Oy.

There’s students milling about, gossiping and trading notes. It’s a fine summer morning. The wind is whistling through the big birch tree, and blowing through the hair of the two girls kissing under it. Oh look! There’s a lone grasshopper…

Well this is boring. How do other narrators do it? Where on Earth is Lit?!

Ah finally. Here he comes, three large books in his arms. The collar of his shirt is wet, and his face looks considerably less splotchy. Well that explains why he took so long.

“Three books? For English lit?” Apollo asks, his arms completely devoid of books, or any other classroom material.

“I get bored”, Lit shrugs as if that explains everything.

So English lit must’ve been what they were discussing before. Unless they were exchanging famous quotes of love and desire from popular classics, which I highly doubt, that was a boring fist conversation.

Ah well. They can make up for it later.

Our journey through the green and into the classroom is entirely uneventful. I would’ve thought Apollo, being the confident social butterfly he is, would have at least struck up a conversation with Lit, but apparently feelings get in the way of such things.

How tiresome.

“Settle down. Settle down”, the woman at the front of the class says, sharply rapping her knuckles against the desk. Her name escapes me…

Anyway, Lit and Apollo make their way to seats as far away from each other as they can manage, both looking slightly disappointed when the other doesn’t stop them. Dorks.

“Now as I mentioned last week, I will be assigning each of you a project partner. I expect you to put in equal effort and come up with creative and suitably appropriate papers”, Ms. Teach says, picking up a list of names. No, that’s not her real name. I wish it was. It would’ve been suitably appropriate.

She rattles off some names. Someone complains. She patiently listens to their complaint and comes back with a refusal. The student angrily flops into his seat, waking up the peacefully snoring person beside him. They glare at him, then at the class and Ms. Rap-knuckles. No one pays them any mind.

Lit listens intently and Apollo pretends not to. There’s a bee merrily buzzing around the classroom. It bangs against a window, then bangs itself against the window again. Interesting. I think I need coffee. I can’t drink any but it sure does smell good…

“Apollo and Lityerses”.

Oh. Now this is a great turn of events!

“Seems fitting”, Ms. Good-at-student-pairing says, with a slight smirk.

Lit looks surprised and angry all at once, his face flushed. Apollo looks like he’s trying really hard not to care, but his mouth is threatening to betray him and reveal his, already quite clear, happiness.

The teacher continues to pair off students, as Lit stares furiously at his book, as if he’s trying to ignite the pages. Apollo looks at his nails, then at Lit, then back at his nails.

A half hour later the bell, blessedly, rings. Lit’s hurriedly making his way to the door.

But why?? He’s going to have to spend time with Apollo anyway!

Oh good, Apollo’s caught his arm.

“Hey we should talk about the project”, he says.

“What’s there to talk about?” Lit replies.

Um… is his crush’s presence causing his brain to malfunction?? I wouldn’t really be surprised if that were the case, consider that his crush is the magnificent Apollo.

“You know… Where we’re gonna do the project, what topic we’re going to pick, et cetera”, the blond says slowly, as if he’s worried about the same thing.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to worry about it. You go shoot hopes, or dazzle people, or whatever it is you do, and I’ll finish the project. I’m not great at working with people anyway. You’ll get your credit”.

Apollo looks high-key offended for a second, but then laughs.

“Is that all you think of me Lit?” he says, “That I’m just some dumb blond jock trope?”

“‘Mythological retellings’ is one of my favorite topics to read about, so that’s the one we’re choosing for our project”, Apollo continues decidedly.

“What? You don’t get to pick the topic by yourself”, Lit snaps at him.

“Why not? What’s wrong with it? Too challenging for you?” Apollo says, smirk gracing his perfect lips.

Everybody here who knows Lit knows he can’t help but rise to a challenge. Now the topic’s practically set in stone.

“Of course not.” Lit says, resentful but stubborn, “Fine then. When do we begin?”

Apollo smiles wide this time, and I can see the blush creeping up Lit’s neck.

“Meet me at the coffee shop just off campus. 3p.m. Right after class”.

#litpollo #litpollo fanfiction #lityerses #apollo #toa apollo #toa #trials of apollo #unreliable narrator #percabeth #just a tiny little bit

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neon-junkie · 4 years

Text

Sinners Prayer

Summary: Dutch has asked you and Micah to tag along for the evening at the Mayor's party, but the catch is that you two have to go as a pretend married couple.

Pairing: Micah Bell x f!Reader

Word Count: 6557

Rating: SFW

Tags: Friends to lovers, Strangers to lovers, Fake relationship/marriage, Saint Denis, Shady Belle, Party, Dress up, Formalwear, Slow burn, First kiss, Flirting.

Notes: God I LOVED writing this, which is why it's sooooo long. I've had this fic idea lingering in my head for months now as I'm a sucker for the whole fake couple/marriage trope, but it feels so good to finally write this<3

Obsessed is a strong word to use, especially when it's relating to a stranger. But maybe it was the right word because you found yourself swooning over this man over and over, despite barely ever speaking to him. You were in the same camp, sure, but that didn't mean much apart from sometimes riding by his side during a mission, or sitting on the same log as him at the campfire. You'd exchanged few words and you somewhat hoped it'd stay that way, knowing exactly the kind of man he was.

Was this secret obsession something to do with past trauma? your previous encounter with a toxic man that you thought you'd gotten over? or was Micah really just meant to be yours?

But seriously... Micah. Micah Bell. Micah Bell the third, in fact, because somehow his shitty family had managed to breed more than once.

You want to feel sick every time you see him, you really do, just like everybody else in existence does, but you find yourself gazing at him from the other side of camp every single day, so drawn to various little bits of him.

There's the scar on his chin, the one that starts at his split lip, and you're curious as to how he got it, but not as curious as to if you'd be able to feel it when you press your lips against his. You try to tell yourself that his facial hair is stupid, but he always keeps it so neat and clean, and you can't help but wonder what that 'stache would feel like brushing over your thighs as he kissed along them. And his hair, his scraggy shoulder-length hair, the dirty blonde locks that you just want to run your fingers along and grip onto if you had the chance to ride him.

You're doing it again.

You give your head a little shake as you snap out of your daydream, straightening your back and taking a swig of your drink. It's late, and you're enjoying a beer before bed after finishing your shift on guard duty. Micah's sat at his usual space by the campfire in your line of view, and thankfully you haven't zoned out staring at him else, well, that'd be embarrassing.

Micah also seems zoned out, staring at the fire with his hands dangling freely down his sides, one ankle crossed over the other. He lets out a sigh and rolls his head back, staring up at the stars before looking over at you.

Oh shit.

You quickly look away, taking another sip from your drink. You can feel Micah's gaze still on you, but when you do finally peek over, he's back to staring at the fire.

You've accidentally met his gaze a few times before, a mix of you meeting his, and him meeting yours. At least it wasn't always you staring at him, he seems to have an interest in you too, though the two of you rarely ever interacted. Micah had, for some reason, kept his distance from you, despite his blatant and poor attempts of flirting with other women of the camp. Maybe you just weren't his type? But then why would he always stare at you?

Your beer is finally finished and you turn in for the night, following your nightly routine and climbing under your blankets, only to stare at the tent walls and think about Micah.

Ugh. That man, if you can even call him one.

You're a sinner, just like the rest of this crazy bunch that you run with, but it seems whatever Gods float about in the sky continue to ignore your prayers, despite them being desperate.

Please, please can they just stop this attraction to him? Please. There were so many better men out there, a handful of which you run with, but you find yourself worryingly obsessed with this foul man, yet you can't seem to stop it.

You roll onto your side, letting your eyes fall shut and as always, drift to sleep with the hopes that you won't be obsessed when morning comes.

Morning does come, and oh boy, does it hit you hard.

Dutch was quick to call you upstairs to the balcony by his room, telling you to finish your breakfast first, but hurry up as soon as possible.

"It's a party," Dutch tells you. "The mayors' party," Dutch smirks, raising his hands as if he was waiting for you to jump with joy.

"And...?" you question.

"Well. I've picked a fine bunch to tag alongside me, but I'm asking you specifically to help with a special task. Myself, Hosea, Arthur, and Bill will be mingling as singles, but we need a couple to go. We need a couple to weave their way in there with all the others and see what they can find. Maybe get invited to some fancy private getaway or... whatever it is those upper-class city folk do in their free time," Dutch explains, speaking with his hands as always.

"Dutch," you laugh. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm unfortunately single," you tell him as you shake your head.

"I know, just like the rest of camp, but I'll make suitable arrangements for you, my dear," Dutch replies.

"What about John and Abigail?" you ask, the only couple that springs to mind.

"I wouldn't dare ask them, not after that whole fiasco that happened with our dear boy Jack," Dutch says as he shakes his head. "You can say no if you want to, but I could really do with this."

You let out a sigh but then ask "what arrangements are you thinking?"

"Well..." Dutch begins. "I wanted you to be a part of this job to begin with, I knew that as a fact. You've got a good charm and I've seen you gussy up folks before. You know exactly what you're doing, and I need that strength right now," Dutch compliments, though his tone of voice and the way his eyes begin to avoid yours makes you fear for the worst.

"Trelawny's going to take you into the city to pick out a dress for you, the women have already said they'll help get you ready for the party-"

"Dutch. Who am I going with?" you cut him off, noticing the way he's avoiding the elephant in the room.

"I put a lot of thought into this, ___. I really have. I've gone through all the members of the camp-"

"Dutch," you sigh as you cut him off again. "Just tell me."

"Micah," Dutch says as his eyes meet yours. "Like I said, you can say no if you'd like. I just know the two of you would be able to make this work, and I could really do with this," he explains.

"Have you already asked him?" you question.

"I have, and he said he's happy with it if you're happy with it," Dutch tells you as he watches your expressions and body language, though you surprise him as you show no signs of discomfort.

"Alright, I'll do it," you shrug.

"Thank you, my dear," Dutch grins as he places a hand on your shoulder. "It's this evening. Trelawny will be waiting for you outside the tailors in Saint Denis, and make sure you're ready a little early. I want time to run through the plan before we set off."

The Gods were definitely mocking you at this point, sat up there on their high horses, laughing and pointing down at you as they continued to worsen your situation. Really? A party with posh folk? And you have to pretend to be a couple with Micah? You barely know him for starters. What if you two really weren't meant to get along? The last thing you wanted to do was cause a scene after Dutch had asked you so kindly to go in there and fish out information for him.

Trelawny seemed in his usual cheery mood when you met him, helping you pick out something nice. Honestly, the dress is gorgeous, and you feel beautiful wearing it. You have no problem playing dress up, sometimes secretly looking forward to it as you rarely get an occasion to wear something other than your usual attire.

The women shower you with compliments as they help do your makeup, picking out some nice matching jewelry that compliments your facial features, along with a pretty necklace that seemed to draw even more attention to your cleavage. You haven't worn a corset in a while, and the sight of your boobs bulging up against your chest was clearly meant to be a distraction to try and lore out some weaker men. Maybe Micah would end up dragging them off to the side, only to knock their lights out and loot them for "looking at my woman!"

Ugh. Your stomach hadn't stopped turning like a stormy sea the second Dutch had told you who you were going with. You hadn't seen Micah around the camp all afternoon, probably mentally preparing himself for whatever shit-show that was about to happen.

Well, you were ready.

Mary-Beth was quick to run out of the house and draw everybody's attention, attempting to give you some kind of grand reveal, as if the camp had never seen you in a dress before. They have, but this was the fanciest you'd ever worn; with your hair up in a do that took all afternoon to keep in place, and jewels that perfectly matched the shade of your makeup.

"She's ready!" Mary-Beth squealed, attracting the attention of Dutch and Arthur as they lingered over, the rest of the camp perking up their ears and eyes. "Now, you better all flatter her 'cause she seems a little shy, and we spent all afternoon helpin' get her ready, but-"

"Mary-Beth, please," you sigh as you exit the house, not wanting the grand entrance that she would want. There's still a mix of oo's and aah's throughout the camp, and Susan is quick to rush over and take your hands in hers, looking like she's about to cry.

"My dear, you look so wonderful," Susan tells you.

"Thank you, Miss Grimshaw," you reply as you give her hand a little squeeze.

"She's right, ___. Trelawny and our women have excellent taste. Thank you, all of you," Dutch tells them as he speaks to the camp, then turning back to you. "Are you ready, dear?" he asks.

"Physically, yes. Mentally, no," you joke, though you're serious.

"Well, it'll have to do," Dutch nods.

"My my," a dreaded voice calls out. Micah's approaching, stopping just beside Dutch as he speaks to you. "Ain't no way you can go the party like that, sweetheart. You're gonna knock 'em all dead with them pretty looks of yours," Micah compliments.

Your stomach begins to turn again, though you begin to question if you should curse the gods or thank them, because the sight of Micah in a tux is one you could get used to. He's dressed like the other men, a smart black tux with a white shirt and bowtie. He's clearly had a bath, as his hair looks the cleanest you've ever seen it, nearly bunched into a low ponytail with a few loose strands shaping his face. Micah always keeps his facial hair clean, but it's freshly trimmed and perfectly shaped just underneath his jaw.

You notice Arthur already glaring at him in the corner of your eye. Why Dutch didn't ask Arthur to go with you was beyond your knowledge, but something tells you he has a deeper reason behind picking the two of you to go together.

"Thank you, Mister Bell," you softly reply as your eyes meet his.

"Guess that makes you Mrs. Bell for this evening," Micah smiles. "Don't it, Dutch?" he asks as his eyes quickly turn to Dutch's.

"It does! Now, let's all get going before we're even later than we already are. I'll go over the plan on the way there," Dutch huffs as he waves his gloved hands about, hurrying everybody along to the stagecoach that was waiting.

You're about to walk off, but Micah's sudden movement catches your eye. He offers you his hand. "Gotta look the part, darlin'," he tells you.

"Oh! I just remembered!" Micah says as he suddenly moves his hand away, reaching into his pocket to fish out a pair of gold wedding rings that he no doubt had stolen recently, specifically for this event.

"May I?" Micah asks, holding out his hand again. You take it, your soft palms gently settling in rough ones. He flashes you another smile, then flicks his eyes down to focus sliding the wedding ring onto your finger. The sight of that alone is enough to make your knees go weak, but you try your hardest not to pass out, and thankfully Micah doesn't seem to notice how lovesick you're feeling.

The ring is only slightly too big, and hopefully, you'll notice it if it gets close to slipping off. He quickly slips the other one onto his own finger, and takes your hand again, his eyes finally moving away from yours as he leads you over to the stagecoach, following behind the others.

The ride there isn't too bad, and the plan seems simple enough. Steal nothing, only information. Only your 'husband' was most definitely not going to do that, even if he doesn't tell Dutch about it.

He helps you out the coach, gently tucking your hand around his arm as he walks with you into the party. Surprisingly, Micah didn't bring his guns with him, making a comment to you under his breath about how he doesn't trust anybody with them. That's understandable.

Dutch and Arthur head upstairs to do whatever it is they were going to do, speak to Jack's surrogate father or whatever, leaving you and the others to wait on the balcony.

You rest your hands on the railing, looking down at the mishmash of strangers below. Micah removes his hand from yours, resting it on the small of your back as he turns to speak to you.

"You nervous?" Micah asks.

"I'm sure I won't be after a couple of drinks," you joke, turning your gaze to meet his. You've never seen his expression so soft before, and have his eyes always been that blue? They're an icy shade, maybe a warning sign about his cold heart, but he's making yours burn up with his stupidly sweet smile and that stupid cute little ponytail that he just had to tuck his hair into.

"So now I gotta take care of my drunk wife whilst also lookin' for leads?" Micah jokes back, though there's something about him calling you his 'wife' that makes your stomach turn faster than it ever has before.

"I ain't gonna get drunk!" you laugh. "Your wife can handle herself, thank you very much," you raise your nose jokingly.

"You sure? Cause if I remember rightly, the last time you got drunk you tripped over and almost fell in the campfire," Micah chuckles, watching your expression drop. How did he remember that? That happened months ago!

"I'm a changed woman," you reply, "for tonight," you add.

"Sure you are, Mrs. Bell," Micah grins as he moves a few loose strands off your face. "Then after tonight, you can go back to fallin' into campfires."

"And would my dear husband not save me if he saw me falling into one?" you question.

"I ain't really your husband, sweetheart. Not unless you wanna keep that ring on and keep playin' dress up with me," Micah replies, trying to make it sound like a joke, but you both know that if you said yes, Micah would happily continue your fake marriage.

It's a good thing Dutch arrived when he did, cutting you off as you opened your mouth to speak, but you were thankful as you hadn't even thought of a reply.

Dutch gave you all another pep talk before shooing everybody off on their way, and you were thankful a server passed you as you reached the bottom of the stairs, taking a glass of champagne for yourself and thanking them, Micah grabbing one for himself also.

Your hand finds Micahs arm and he walks with you a while, eyeing up any obvious leads as you pass through the strangers. You come to a stop at the back of the party, pulling Micah to one side as he rests his hand around your waist. God. You could get used to Micah having his hands on you at all times.

"You see anything obvious yet?" you ask Micah before taking a sip of your champagne. At least it was decent, not having that awful cheesy flavour that cheap bottles had.

"I ain't been lookin'," Micah replies, making you snap your eyes over to his with a little scowl on your face.

"What?" you ask.

"Hard to focus on a bunch of snobby strangers when I got this pretty woman clinging onto me," Micah grins. You realize that your hand had come to rest on his forearm as his hand had found your waist, clinging onto him a little too tightly, your body practically pressed up against his. At least the two of you looked like a couple.

You go to take a step back, but Micah is quick to pull you against him more, holding you firmly in place. "I'm jokin', sweetheart," he tells you. "I've spotted a few here 'n' there."

"You better not be lyin'," you tut.

"You not trust your own husband?" Micah smirks, chuckling even whilst he has a sip of his drink. "Besides, we ain't even planned our story yet. How we gonna mingle with other couples when we don't even know how we met? Or when we got married?" Micah asks.

He's right, the two of you had no time to prepare your story, but you're far from earshot of these strangers, so now would be a good time to get your stories straight.

"Well, what have you got planned then? Seeing as you brought this up?" you question.

"Nothin'," Micah shrugs. "I figured I'd ask my lady, seeing as you women tend to fantasize about these situations." You can't deny that, because little does Micah know, you've had a few fantasies about the two of you getting together for quite some time now.

"Do I look like the type for romances, Micah?" you ask.

"Do I?" Micah replies. Good point.

"Well..." you sigh, trying to think of a few ideas. "You plan how we met, and I'll plan our wedding?"

"Sure, darlin'," Micah nods as he finishes off his drink.

"Wait here. I'll go get us a refill," you say as you take Micahs empty glass, finishing off your own, and wandering off back into the party to find your next round of booze.

Micah watches you leave, tucking his hand into his pockets to fish out a cigarette to enjoy whilst he waits and ponders.

Finding a server wasn't hard, and you thanked them as you swapped your glasses over. On your walk back you overheard another couple talking about how they met, saying she was a server on one of the ferries and he was there to gamble, only he ended up spending the night distracting her from her job.

You find your way back to Micah, who's just finished his cigarette, stomping it out on the ground with his polished black shoes. "I picked you up at a bar," Micah tells you as you hand him his drink.

"What? No," you scoff, scrunching your face up at the generic and boring backstory.

"What else you got then, sweetheart?" Micah asks before taking a sip from his drink.

"I just overheard a couple say that they met on one of those gambling ferries. She was a waitress and he spent the whole night chattin' her up."

"You wanna steal their backstory?" Micah tuts. "Dutch said we shouldn't be stealin," he says as he shakes his head jokingly.

"We'll just change it a little... I was a bartender and you spent the night chatting me up," you suggest.

"A woman bartender?" Micah questions your suggestion.

"Times are changing, Micah. It's believable," you reply, getting a little defensive.

"I didn't mean it like that," Micah says as he raises his hand. "I like it. And we met 4 years back, got married in April last year. How's that sound?" he asks.

"Good," you nod, realizing that you'd done each other's jobs rather than the ones you assigned. "You ready to mingle?" you ask him.

"Fine," Micah sighs.

Neither of you wants to do this, both forcing a fake smile and kind accents as you speak to the strangers. After an hour, you haven't found much, a few mentions of summer homes and private boats, but nothing within the area.

You're a few more glasses in, beginning to feel ever so slightly tipsy, but you needed that buzz to help you get through the smugness of these strangers.

"You want another?" you ask Micah who has barely sipped on his current one. He's only drunk a glass less than you have, but he doesn't seem affected, though his tolerance is probably higher than yours.

"I'm alright, my love. I'll wait here for you," Micah tells you as he moves his hand off your waist, letting you wander off into the crowd.

You're still not used to the pet names, but you hope they continue to roll out of Micahs mouth, seeing as you no longer had that sickly feeling in your stomach. It seems your nerves had finally calmed down, being replaced by a warm and gentle buzz instead, though that's probably the alcohol in your system.

You thank the waiter as you take another glass and turn to leave, but overhear the most hideous voice you've ever heard call out to the same man you just thanked. You attempt to walk away, but quickly stop and look over your shoulder, face scrunching up at the sight of quite possibly the rudest woman you've ever seen, if you can even call her a woman.

She drones on and on, insulting this poor stranger that was only trying to do his job. God. The way she spoke to him made you sick, and before that little voice in the back of your head can stop you, you've already approached her and cut her off, attempting to speak to her sweetly.

"Are you an entertainer?" you ask.

"What on earth are you yapping about?" She questions as she looks you up and down in disgust.

"Well, it's a very good act you've got going on here. Playing the stereotypical obnoxious upper-class woman, though I wouldn't recommend performing it when you're not on stage," you respond, acting as if you genuinely thought she was a man in drag.

"Well, I never!" She squeals. "You've got some lip on you, little girl. Do you now know who I am?"

"Oh, I do apologize, madam. What's your act called? Maybe I'll drop by to hear you squeal on stage next time I pass the theatre."

You can't hold back the grin creeping across your face as the stranger's face turns red, her huffing and puffing attracting a handful of eyes nearby. Thankfully, the poor served had managed to sneak off, so at least she wouldn't take it out on him any more than she already had.

She goes to open her mouth again but is quickly cut off when Micah appears by your side.

"Oh, I do apologize for my wife's behaviour," Micah says with a wave of his hand. "Sweetheart!" he says as he turns to you, putting his arm around your waist and beginning to walk you away. "What have I told you about feeding the animals?" he says in clear earshot of the woman.

The both of you don't get to see the woman explode as you rush off, but your grins are as wicked as each others as you lead Micah to the back of the party, giggling devilishly.

You can still hear the woman protesting as she's asked to leave, and is eventually dragged out, which was more than satisfying to watch. The party returns to how it formerly was, the strangers barely looking your way as it seems you'd done everybody a favour.

Your eyes meet Micahs, his arm still wrapped around your waist as your hand rests on his shoulder, your body pressed against his. Both of your grins remain there as the two of you look at each other, suddenly realizing just how pressed up you were against your 'husbands' body.

"I ain't seen that fire in you before, sweetheart," Micah tells you.

"There's a lot of me you ain't seen, Micah," you reply.

"Ooooh," Micah sighs as he chuckles. His head dips down slightly, speaking more directly into your ear but far enough that he can still see your reaction. "Well if you'd be so kind as to show me," he flirts.

Your knees feel like giving up on you, and you're thankful that Micah's grip is tight enough around your waist to hold you upright. You go to open your mouth and invite him to find out, but you're cut off before you can even make a sound.

"Mister and Mrs. Bell?" A familiar voice asks. Both of your smiles fade as you turn to see Dutch standing there, his brows slightly furrowed. "What the hell was that?" he whispers through gritted teeth.

"She deserved it," Micah shrugs, his voice returning to his usual tone as he softens his grip on you.

"What happened?" he whispers.

"Dutch, trust me, anybody would have done the same. It seems I did everyone here a favour," you reassure him.

"I don't care if she deserved it or not. Just stop drawing attention to yourselves, please!" Dutch hisses.

Micah raises his hand innocently, "sure, boss," he says.

"We'll keep quiet," you add on.

"Thank you, now go and mingle," Dutch attempts to force a smile, waving his hands about as he encourages you to head back into the crowd.

He doesn't walk away, so you're forced to drag Micah back into the handful of strangers and continue where you left off, doing whatever you can to find at least a little something to take back to the camp.

Thanks for ruining the moment, Dutch.

The whole time you're speaking to these strangers, all you can think about is the flirtatious glisten Micah had in his eyes when he said that line. His hand is around your waist once more, only you're well aware of the way his hand is slowly trailing down you, eventually resting on your tailbone, a little too close to your ass, though you wish he'd move his hand a little lower.

A stranger quickly thanks you for having that woman kicked out of the party, and your bitching session about her is cut short from the loud bang coming from the sky. You almost drop your drink, surprised to hear what sounds like gunshots, only to turn and see the sky glowing an array of colours.

They're fireworks. You've heard about them before but never seen them, and despite how pretty they are, you wish they were a little quieter. Sure, you're a gunslinger, but loud noises still make you jump, despite being somewhat used to them.

Micah stands almost directly behind you, moving his hand to your hip as he pressed his body against yours. You relax against him, your back pressed against his chest and shoulder. Micah places his empty glass on a tray that trails past him, using that same hand to brush a few strands of hair from your face, catching your attention as you move your gaze off the fireworks.

"You think we're doing a good job, sweetheart?" Micah asks.

"A good job of what, exactly?" you reply.

"You know exactly what I'm on about," he chuckles. His gaze was soft on you to begin with, but it softens out even more as you make him laugh.

"I think we're doing well, but we can always do better," you flirt.

"Oh?" Micah smirks, picking up on your hints. "And how are we gonna do that, my love?"

Micah boldly places a gentle kiss to your temple, your heart fluttering as his 'stache brushes against your skin, a lot softer than you thought it'd be.

"Well, for a start, you could kiss my lips rather than my temple," you reply, just as boldly as his move.

"That so?" he smiles.

"It is so, darling," you reply.

"Just you wait," Miah grins, kissing your temple again. "I ain't gonna let that happen in the middle of these folk," he explains.

"That's alright, Mister Bell. I can wait," you reply as you rest your head against the crook of his neck, angling upwards so you can continue to watch the fireworks.

Micah places another kiss to your temple before wrapping his arms around your waist, enjoying the way your hand rests on top of his, the other one still holding your glass. He continues to place gentle kisses against you every so often, holding your back firmly against his chest.

Little do you know that Micah's heart is also racing just as fast as yours, his stomach feeling just as sick and his knees feeling just as weak. All those times he'd accidentally met your gaze from across the camp were times when he'd been admiring you, watching you from afar as he tries to figure out a non-creepy and non-cheesy way to talk to you.

When it comes to one night stands and quick hook-ups, Micah will blurt a few stereotypical pickup lines out and hope for the best, but he's been lovesick the second he saw you, and his feelings continued to grow the more he saw your personality come out within the camp. He felt a little jealous at first, finding a woman who's just as good with a gun and knife as he is, but the thought of "but what if she was mine?" struck his mind, and he then decided that he just had to have you.

Micah struggles to talk to women, he's barely interacted with them, and it's even worse growing up without a female role model in his life. But the camp continued to move and hunt for money, and when Micah found out that Dutch was invited to the mayors' party, he finally saw his chance. Despite trying to recommend taking another set of hands along, without Micah making it obvious that he wanted an excuse to talk to you, Dutch quickly picked up on what was going on and decided to stir the pot even more.

Originally, Micah just thought Dutch could do with his help and maybe take one of the ladies, but Dutch is smart and picks up on little things like the two of you admiring each other from afar. Dutch grinned as he thanked Micah for his suggestion, and then said he could do with a fake couple there so they had all their options open. Micah was quick to dip his hat over his face and blurt out "sure boss, I'll leave it to you," scurrying off when he realized that he'd dug this hole a lot deeper than it was meant to go, but he swallowed his fear and went along with it.

And here the two of you are, Micah leading you over to the gazebo at the back of the mayors' house to have a "little talk about the leads we've found." There's another couple stood on one side, but the gazebo is big enough so if the two of you stand on the other side and speak under your breaths then they won't hear you.

"Well, what you think?" Micah asks as he gently removes your hand from around his arm, holding it lightly in both of his hands as he leans back against the railing, crossing one ankle over the other.

"We got a few bit here 'n' there. It ain't been easy," you shrug. It seems that despite every single person here being an obnoxious prick, they had their guards up around strangers, not letting things slip out too easily.

"But have you had fun?" Micah chuckles.

"I've had fun playing dress-up with you, Micah," you grin, noting the way Micah's fidgeting with the ring on your finger, probably slightly nervous.

"We can always do it again some time," he flirts. "Maybe go to one of them fancy poker games they host at the saloon here," Micah suggests.

"Oh, I bet you'd enjoy that," you giggle. "Gambling, liquor, and me sittin' on your lap."

"How could I not enjoy that?" Micah asks as he stands upright. "But is it a sin if I do enjoy it?" Micah asks, his tone turning slightly stern as he looks into your eyes.

"Do you want it to be?" you ask, watching as Micah moves your hand from his to rest on his shoulder, his hands finding your waist.

"I ain't really bothered, sweetheart," Micah tells you with a little shrug. "Sin or not, I'll have you on my lap, so I'll be happy," he adds.

"You know, we ain't gotta play dress up again just for you to have me sit on your lap," you flirt as your other hand comes to rest on his shoulder, slowly wrapping around his neck.

"Don't say that, darlin'. Cause we both know that you'll get tired of me constantly takin' up that offer," Micah jokes.

"You think I'm gonna get tired of you, Mister Bell?"

"You might," Micah says with a shrug. He moves one hand off your waist to gently cup your chin, making sure your eyes are on his. "Mrs. Bell," he says with a grin, noticing the way your heart flutters at the sound of it.

"I bet you I won't," you smile.

"We'll just have to see about that, won't we?"

"We will, Mister Bell."

Micah gently moves his hand from your chin, gently brushing it along your jawline as he cups it, his thumb rubbing slowly over your cheek. You melt into his touch, and the sight of that is enough to pop Micah's patience.

He finally dips his head down, gently pressing his lips against yours, though he's not surprised when you begin to kiss back, deepening the kiss. Micah's hand moves from your cheek, joining the other one around your waist as he holds onto you, pulling your body against his.

Despite how firmly his lips are pressed against yours, his moustache is a lot softer than you imagined, running against your upper lip, lightly tickling you. There's the strong taste of champagne on his lips, and a faint taste of tobacco on his tongue as he slides it against yours. It's a good thing Micah has your body pressed up against his, holding you firmly, as you can feel your knees getting weaker by the second.

Micah lets out a soft sigh as he moves one hand to gently cup the back of your head. Your fingertips brush against his low ponytail, a style that you hoped to see him wear again. Maybe he'll keep it for this upper-class poker date that you'd both just planned, and even though neither of you said it was a date, the way you were gazing at each other says otherwise.

There's a sudden cough, and that's when you realize that someones been coughing to get your attention a few times now. You were far too engulfed in locking lips with your 'husband' that you didn't notice poor Arthur standing a few feet away, trying to get both of your attention.

Micah momentarily breaks the kiss to mumble "go away, Morgan," before bringing your lips back to his, continuing where you left off.

"We're leavin', Micah," Arthur tells him in a stern voice.

Micah ignores him, and although you feel bad for Arthur being there, you're not willing to break this kiss for anything. You've waited far too long for this.

"You two, come on," Arthur sighs, and Micah finally breaks away from you.

"Fine," Micah frowns as his gaze meets Arthurs. Arthur ignores his attitude and walks off, heading through the slowly-dispersing crowd to find the others.

Micah doesn't say anything but flashes you a cheeky smile as he offers his arm once more. You take it, and he leads you through the party, meeting the others who are already climbing into the stagecoach when you arrive.

Micah does most of the talking on the way back, telling the others about the few leads the two of you had found. His hand rests on your knee the whole journey back, and Dutch seems to notice it, smiling to himself.

When you arrive back at camp, Micah offers you his hand as he helps you down from the stagecoach, and despite being back, his hand still lingers in yours whilst you say goodnight to everyone.

"You want me to walk you home, Mrs. Bell?" Micah jokes.

"Oh, you're so kind, offering to walk me ten steps," you giggle.

Micah does it anyway, stopping outside your tent.

"I err..." Micah gulps, his eyes flicking around the camp, then back to you. "I had fun tonight. Now I know we didn't get many leads, but I still enjoyed myself."

"I did too. Maybe we'll make up for our losses when we go on that upper-class poker mission," you smile. Micah's eyes widen a little.

"You were serious about that?" he asks, a tint of doubt to his voice.

"I was. But I understand if you're tired of pretending to be my husband already," you jokingly sigh, bringing a smile back to Micah's face.

"I ain't ever gonna get tired of it. But if you're up for it, then well, I guess I better start lookin' for a way to make it happen," Micah replies.

"You let me know as soon as you find it."

"Anyway, I ain't gonna keep you up. You get to bed, sweetheart," Micah says as he takes hold of your hand, placing a gentle kiss against your knuckles.

"You still ain't learned where my lips are, have you?" you flirt, watching Micah's eyes light up at your comment.

"I guess you better show me then, Mrs. Bell," Micah grins, his face dipping down to meet yours as you lean up to kiss him, your arms wrapping around his neck once more.

Micah doesn't keep you up for too long, softly kissing you goodnight and finally letting you turn in. You hear him walk away as you close your tent flaps, taking your time to get undressed and get ready for bed. The whole time you're changing, your stomach is still turning with butterflies, in shock at tonight's turn of events, even though you adored all of them.

In some ways, the Gods finally did answer your prayers, giving you the sinner you fawned over rather than taking your feelings away. Either outcome would have been fine, but you definitely preferred this one, especially now you had a date lined up.

Maybe those romances that Mary-Beth reads aren't so silly after all.

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misssakurapetal28 · 4 years

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9 Reasons Why People Might (and CAN) Ship Apritello in Rise!

1). It kind of follows the "childhood friends to lovers" trope. Usually from all the anime (and occasionally cartoons and other types of media) that I've watched, there's a "friends to lovers" trope and/or "childhood friends to lovers" trope. It's usually when...welll...when friends start to feel romantic feelings towards each other, become a couple or start to date. Usually when that's the case, the friends usually have good interactions or/and know each other more personally than anyone else does. Usually those main things are enough to make a relationship. 2). Even if they do start dating, I don't think things will change THAT much. Maybe some sweet and cute couple moments every now and then, but besides that, does Donnie and April HAVE to be lovey-dovey like every couple media tends to portray pairings these days? Donnie and April can just watch Netflix and chill. Have fun and hang out like they normally do? I see them as just teens who do what they want and don't follow couple clichés. They might date or be a couple, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t still friends. 3). Interspecies relationships have happened before in shows. Though I haven't personally watched shows that did have interspecies relationships, I know they exist. So why Rise should be an exception? And NO. Apritello is NOT bestiality. In 2012, April is half-muntant/kraang and there’s a possibly that Donnie MIGHT have human DNA too from Splinter. In Rise, Donnie does have human DNA inside him from Splinter.

And EVEN IF one or both of them weren’t half mutant/human, it STILL isn’t bestiality. Bestiality is when a human is in a relationship with an animal basically (just look up the real definition if you want to know). Donnie is a mutant turtle (a mutant with human DNA in Rise). He also has a consenting mind. So at best, it’s a interspecies relationship. Now if you personally still don’t like the pair because you personally don’t like interspecies relationships neither, then that’s your preference and I respect that. However, I still think interspecies is LEAUGES better than bestiality in my opinion. 4). Their adorable babies and they generally look cute together. Nuff said ^^ Donnie and April reminds me of the famous "opposites attract" trope too. April, the feisty, headstrong tomboy with the cleaver, sass master Donnie is just interesting dynamic to me. Their personalities compliment each other. Their flaws and virtues compliment each other. I just belive they work well together. Also, angst possibilities. LOTS of angst possibilities. Just saying...

5). Most Apritello (or April x Turtles) haters/T///cest shippers are total shallow hypocrites. Like I’ve mentioned before, It really baffles me and annoys me that TMNT fans look down on others for shipping Apritello (or any other April x Turtles pairing) just because they personally see (or always saw) April being a big sister to the guys when the same kind of people are perfectly fine with shipping T///cest, pairings that involve the turtles together. At least people who don’t ship neither have the excuse that they see all the teens as siblings and it’s wrong to see them as anything else, but AT LEAST April and the turtles aren’t REALLY related. Like I said, sometimes people who grew up together/childhood friends DO and CAN get together.

Now...People who ship t///cest...that’s THEIR business (I personally despise it). They can stay in their corner and I can stay in mine. Heck, people even have the right to dislike Apritello from any incarnation (especially by 2012 Apritello’s track record), but don’t you dare criticize or looked down on others who do like it when t///cest in that logic isn’t that much better. Now, I personally like 2012 Apritello (or at least mostly the fandom version of it) and I honestly take some interest in the Rise version of it too (however, this one has less attention and love), but if someone else just personally doesn’t like it, that’s perfectly fine too. However, the point that I’m making is that I wish that people don’t be so shallow when it comes to the very little people who does ship Apritello in this incarnation. People liking Apritello isn’t a bad thing. It’s just the way it has to be handled.

BTW: I can also get people disliking Apritello in the 80’s series and the 2003 series because April was in her 20’s, but in the 2012 and 2018/Rise series she isn’t! She’s 16.

6). You can ship what the hell you want.

I know Rise! Apritello mostly comes from that fact that it was a thing in 2012, but so? People still have the right to ship it. Also, it seems like they have at least some kind of development or chemistry. Now, I’m not going to lie. The chances of them being a couple or even having ANY KIND of romantic feelings in this series is slim because:

1. It’s a kids show. It’s more of a silly/comedy kid show than any of the other previous TMNT incarnations ever were. So this incarnation of TMNT might not be suitable for actaul romantic themes. I mean, there’s the “romantic”/complicated relationship between Splinter and Big Mama, but that’s about it.

2. Again, it’s a kids show....about kids and their (mis)adventures. April is 16 and Donnie is 14. I doubt that romance is a big thing for them right now at this point in their lives. Not to say crushes can’t happen, but...yeah.

3. April most likely sees Donnie as a brother and vise versa. In fact, it WAS confirmed that April sees all the turtles that way. Also, most Rise fans sees them as such, even before Rise began.

4. I know some don’t find a problem with this (including myself), but Donnie is a mutant turtle while April is a human girl. So people might find that weird or claim it is bestiality (even though it’s not). Hence part of the reason why I think one of the creators/writers said this. Speaking of...

5. Seems like they don’t ship it romantically. Heck, they even claim that others (or 2012 Donnie’s crush on April, it’s really unclear) as “pervy” for it (which I disagree, but I digress).

HOWEVER, despite all this said, who’s to say that anyone still CAN’T ship it? HECK, who even says that the possibility is COMPETELY off the table? You see that I said the possibility of them happening or having any romantic feelings for each other are SLIM, not INPOSSIBLE. Like I said above, I’m one of the those people who watched TMNT 2012 who actaully shipped Apritello.

Now, I’m not going to sit up here and say that Donnie’s crush (and in my opinion, later love) for April was the healthiest thing in the world. I’m also not going to say that Donnie and April’s characters where the best here. Because it wasn’t, it was a result of bad writting from the writers part. But...Apritello in TMNT 2012 in canon wasn’t that bad sometimes per say. I personally love Apritello for what it could’ve been more than anything, but canon Apritello? It wasn’t THAT bad. Again, it was just how it was written. If it was given more of proper writting, I really think Apritello could of been like, one of the most amazing and complex ships in media history??? But Alas...

However, unlike 2012 Apritello (unfortunately), I do think Rise “Apritello” is being handled A LOT better, healthier and more natural this time around. Even if it’s not the creators/writers intentions this time around to make any kind of romance for the two, they still have great development together, but I belive that they are close. Now, in MY personal headcanons, I headcanon that Donnie didn’t initially romantically like April from the start. I even made a headcanon that when they first met, they disliked each other (but that’s a different story for maybe another day). So things basically just went the same as it is in canon.

However, ever since the snow day episode (which I kind of headcanon in a scene that wasn’t shown like this), Donnie gain a tiny crush on her (which grew little by little). Now by NO MEANS that it’s as big and crazy as 2012 Donnie’s crush, but a crush no less. Now, do or will they get together in my headcanon? Well, I don’t know yet. Because my feelings for this pair tend to go back and forth.

The point is, people ARE allowed to ship Apritello if they want to. People shouldn’t have to feel hesitant or bad to ship them just because others see them as siblings (which again, they are not even related) or because people don’t personally like it or see it as right. I also don’t feel like people have to stop shipping it just because of the common headcanon that April is a Lesbian.

And that’s another thing. Look, I have NOTHING against the popular headcanon of April being a lesbian (and I also understand why people would think that). That’s cool. You can have ANY KIND of headcanon for ANY character you want. However, in my personal headcanons, I see April as Bi (but maybe a little more interested in girls). It’s not only because I ship her with Donnie though, but it’s because it’s never been confirmed that she’s not interested in guys too though.

Just because she’s bit of a tomboy and has no interested in Dale (a character that BARLEY made ANY appearances and the fandom seems to already hate him for SOME REASON), that doesn’t automatically mean that she’s ONLY into girls. I mean, you can headcanon ANYONE the way that you want, but her being Bi is MY opinion and MY headcanon.

My point: Ship what you want and don’t give dam what ANYONE says, even if it is Apritello.

7). They make a pretty good duo. Shown in episodes like “The Purple Jacket” and “Donnie v.s. Witch Town”, the two make a prefect duo! They also seem to have a better understanding of each other and care about one another a lot. They love each other and kick butt together! ^^ 8). This is my personal taste, but they are like the sun and moon :) This also plays into my “opposites attract” theory when it comes to them. Also, read more up about the concept of “yin and yang”. It will make A LOT of sense when it comes to these two! 9). It can work out platonically AND romantically. Like I’ve mentioned above, it means they are dating/are in a relationship, that doesn’t mean that they can’t also be friends. However, that doesn’t mean they won’t work out just as good as friends. That’s just how much understanding that they have for each other and how good they work out together :)

---

Wow, I wrote a lot! lol If I took any of this all out of context, I’m sorry for that? lol But I just wanted to make the point that shipping Apritello in this incarnation isn’t bad like some people make it out be. It’s just as fun as shipping any of the other popular pairs in in this incarnation. I like Apritello, both 2012 and Rise. If you do too, then you should be allowed to without feeling bad about it. Just remember that!

Let’s enjoy these two dorks together, ok? :)

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1dcraftawards · 4 years

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November Author of the Month...

Drumroll please.... our November Author of the Month is none other than the incredibly talented...

@all-things-fic !

Congratulations to a wonderful author, Liz! You can check out our interview with her below!

1.Did you start writing fanfiction for One Direction, or was there another fandom that you wrote fanfiction for before this?

I have one fic that I wrote for One Direction Fanfic Archive, that will never see the light of day. It was really awful, but everyone starts somewhere. I’ve shared it with two people on Tumblr and we just laughed about it.

I’ve also written a Niall Horan fic which has been flagged for how explicit it is, which is quite laughable as it’s tame in comparison to the Harry stuff (eek!)

2. How old were you when you started writing fanfiction?

I was a teenager when I first started writing fics. I don’t know if I would consider it “proper” fanfic though as it was riddled with cliches.

3. What’s been your favorite fic that you’ve written to work on so far?

For the longest time I was proud of the second part of Divorce Harry and specifically the second part. It just felt real to write. I can’t even explain what it is about that piece.

I think at the time it stemmed from an ask I received where I was asked if I was a parent - I’m not - but this someone said I portrayed aspects of a marriage and how children can tip the balance really well.

The sheer bitterness of two people in love and the juxtaposed feeling it brings was an interesting dynamic. Being bitter and in love? How? It happens. You love someone, but bloody hell don’t you hate at the same time.

And I think on the hand Quarantine Harry is the opposite side of the same coin. I love it because it’s so happy. When you’re smitten and basking. Your baby waking you up at 3am and meeting your husband on the landing with the freshly made bottle is a time to enjoy because you’re doing it together.

But soon enough the third child is sprawled out in your kingsize bed and their foot is pressed against your ribs and you're tired. This isn’t me saying the two stories are linked (I do get those theories quite a lot haha)

4. Do you prefer AU or OU?

Definitely more of an OU gal. I’m massively into writing things “realistically” because I think it’s so relatable and helps draw readers in more so. Especially if the writing uses and references visuals that readers are aware of.

5. What’s your favorite trope to write?

Would we call a long-term relationship / established relationship a trope? If so then this is my favourite. Writing characters who know how to push each other’s buttons, knowing what they can and can’t say to get the other going. Being able to write two people who can share as little as a glance and know what the other is feeling.

Sprinkle a bit of angst on the top for good measure.

That’s my kryptonite.

6. What’s your ideal space to write in?

I tend to write when I’m in bed quite a bit, usually really late at night and on my phone rather than my laptop. Often lying in the dark. Sometimes first thing in a morning.

7. How do you get motivation to write?

This one made me laugh considering I’m unable to finish a single piece of writing at the minute.

Pictures are quite inspiring. New images of Harry can usually start something in me. The images of him in the whacky joggers for example from set have inspired a scene in Quarantine Harry (who knows for which part just yet!).

8. Do you typically like to listen to music when you write? If so, what do you listen to?

Very rarely listen to anything when I write, I tend to like silence really. Sometimes this is so I can dictate into my phone.

9. Your dialogue is some of the best I’ve ever read on tumblr, how do you plan conversations in your fics?

Thank you for the compliment, it’s really nice to read that you think so highly of my dialogue. I don’t really plan them - conversations or my fics. I’m quite visual in how I write, so anything that you’ve read I’ve most likely had it play out in my mind and typed it as it’s moved. For dialogue I tend to speak out loud as I’m typing to try and get the pacing right for the conversation.

No, I don’t try to do a Manc accent… Just in case anyone is wondering haha!

10. What is your writing process like?

I write what I see and then hope it fits. Honestly it’s pretty chaotic. The only time I tend to plan is when I’ve got a lot of different scenes written and I need to know if they’re suitable for an update or what order to place them.

Then I read through them and think about the characters and how they would be a certain time and move the documents into another document. Then I close all the tabs and cry cause my motivation is nonexistent.

11. What’s been your favorite scene to write from Quarantine Harry?

One that hasn’t been shared haha! I’m joking (maybe).

From part one my favourite bit has to be the part where she makes up with him by taking him a cuppa and he gets a dig in about how she hasn’t brought any biscuits with her. Also the bit where he says “come an’ love me” meaning he wants to cuddle. I’m quite conscious I don’t really ever write soppy fics, so when I’m writing “fluffy” aspects they’re more so everyday affections. Like, you know someone is properly in love with you when they’re doing the washing up cause you’re busy, or they’re taking out the bins on bin day. That kinda thing.

From part two absolutely the entirety of the morning where she takes the pregnancy test. That was the part I had as clear as day and I worked backwards to the opening scene. I really loved the idea of Harry knowing his partner is pregnant before said partner knows. Him knowing his lovers body like the back of his hand so much so that he’s able to pick up on the smallest of things. I knew I had to write it.

And how he casually suggested she took the test, by pressing a kiss into her back. His face finding that test and then being an insufferable sod and pleased with himself cause he’s in the know about the outcome before the MC.

12. Is there a schedule you follow in terms of when you write? Or are you more impulsive and just write where and when you can?

So impulsive it’s actually embarrassing. I cringe at myself. I know I’ve mentioned this loads but I really write what I see. So if I’m not seeing anything, I’m not writing. It’s quite frustrating.

13. What is one thing you wish you would’ve known before you started writing?

To not talk about your writing before you’ve finished it. I feel like I massively let people down when I post sneak peeks and then I can’t deliver because life gets on top of me!

14. What do you prefer writing, multi-chaptered fics or one shots?

One shots and then if they develop into something more that can be exciting!

15. What's your secret to portraying such a complex and interesting relationship between your main characters??

Personal trauma…… *tumbleweed at another one of my poorly thought out jokes*

I’m a bit stumped on how to answer this one. I think being well read(ish) helps you create complex characters and relationships, not saying that I am but I’ve read a fair few books. Life in general helps too, sometimes personal relationships. Just growing up. My fic when I was younger was nowhere near the type of things I’m writing now but I’ve got a couple (okay, more than a couple!) of years on myself since then.

I think just apply your own lived experiences and call upon emotions you may have felt through certain times that you’re writing should you have experience it.

Partly I also think so many of us are a little bit nosy. Sometimes we all kinda want to be the fly on the wall in the home of couples to see if everything is a rosy as it seems or as intimate. Or whether it is just raw passion with a couple of arguments thrown in for good measure.

16. What Harry era/mood/look/vibe/song/etc. do you get most inspired by?

What’s weird is my favourite era of Harry is 2014, but I wouldn’t want to write him like that. The current Harry is quite marvellous. I’ve never known anyone like him, he really is fine wine (the real album title…. ‘we’ll be a fine wine’)

If you’re asking what mood I like to see him in, it’s either when he's pensive and looks a touch pissed off with a crease to his brow or when you watch his joke his eyes before he’s even said it and he’s amused/pleased with himself.

His current look, mainly late 2019/2020 is quite something (hence the quarantine fics)

I tend not to get inspired by his songs but my two faves if I had to pick would be Woman and TBSL. I think they’re massive Scorpio energy and would make great premises for a one shot sometime!

I’m not sure if I even answered this how you wanted it answer but hopefully it was something haha!

17. Who or what inspired you to start writing?

I’ve always loved writing, I think it’s because I do a lot of it with my line of work. The person that gave me the push on this site was actually an account called @meetyourmouths. The lovely Iz is no longer on tumblr but she wrote a Harry piece that just made me think ‘fuck it’ and I posted Practicing. If you go to that piece the authors note makes mention to Iz.

I would also say @stylishmuser was one of the first people to reach out to me and be encouraging which has always stuck with me. Massive love for, P and still talk to her all these years on.

I’m now sat here thinking about listing all the lovely lovely people who have been so nice to me both in regards to writing and outside of it and I’m conscious I’m not mentioning them. The troubles of being a bit of a people pleaser. Hopefully those people know I love ‘em… You know?

18. Some readers are wary of leaving feedback because they're unsure how the writer will take it, how do you personally like to receive feedback? Do you want to be critiqued, or would you like to just know if they did or didn't enjoy what they've read?

First thing I’d say is please don’t ever think as readers you can’t be negative. Sure there is a way to present the feedback to the author cause writing can be quite personal, but everyone has room for growth.

Just come chat to me. Can be about anything and everything. A simple ‘loved the update’ to ‘this bit was rubbish’. I’m open to all feedback.

One thing to remember is there are a lot of writers out there so there is something for everybody. If a fic isn’t for you there are tons out there waiting for you to go and grab ‘em!

19. Is writing a hobby or do you have aspirations of writing professionally outside of fanfiction?

I used to think it was mainly more so a hobby, and I do still lean towards this. However, now I’m not so sure. My problem is I tend to have long spells of not being able to find balance in my ‘real life’ job and the extra-curricular stuff.

I’m dragging myself here but I don’t think my fics have much plot to them. I’m more so about writing the everyday life and I don’t think there is a market for that really (unless you have something explosive happen somewhere).

20. And finally, What's your purpose for writing? What do you hope to accomplish?

For a while I wanted to write Harry being insufferably British. I found it quite hard to find writings that I thought wrote him using Britsh-isms (is this even a thing?) and types of phrases that are common over this side of the pond. I wanted to put that out there for someone who may have once felt like me.

Mostly, I just want to put pieces out that take people elsewhere, even if only for a couple of minutes. A lot of the world is a bleak place, if you find my little corner on tumblr and it makes you smile, that’s achieved something, hasn't it?

#author of the month #aom #November2020 #aomnovember2020

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mandoalorian · 4 years

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Delectable [Maxwell Lord x Reader]

Summary: This was meant to be a one shot but I had so fun much writing it I honestly want to make it a series. Fluff with some light angst and mutual pining tropes. Reader has an infatuation with her boss, Maxwell Lord but gets mixed signals and is unsure if he feels the same way.

Warnings: alcohol consumption.

Pairing: Reader x Maxwell Lord

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There was no denying that you and Maxwell Lord had chemistry. You had been his secretary for the past two years, serving under him every second of every day – and you wouldn’t want it any other way. You knew all his little secrets and of course the pay was good, it was Max Lord after all. But it was the little things; the way your heart jumped when you brushed shoulders with him in the corridor and the frenzy of butterflies in the pit of your stomach when you were called into his office. You weren’t just his secretary, you were… something else. He gave you a sense of belonging and importance. When he worked late, and everyone else went home, you would stay the night in his office to make sure you could be there if he needed you. Maxwell didn’t ask for much from you – he had his own personal assistant, but he liked your company. You knew you were special to him because you were told by your colleagues that secretary’s had come and go prior to you, but he always made an effort to make you stay. Your colleagues had never seen Maxwell be so infatuated with anyone the way he was with you. Yet, he kept everything professional and you got the hint. He wanted you here, but you could never show him how much you needed him. Through pay rises and buying you random expensive gifts, he thought he could buy his way to your heart but truthfully, he owned you from the second you laid eyes on him.

You tapped your fingers against the front desk, bored, zoning in and out of whatever was playing on the radio. Wake me up before you go-go ‘cause I’m not planning on going solo. You couldn’t help but bop your head to WHAM’s latest release when your phone buzzed, interrupting your empty thoughts. You looked at the display and saw it was Max. You glanced up to his office door and then back down at the ringing phone. You were based right outside his office yet he always called you when he wanted something from you. You took a deep breath and straightened your posture, as if he could see you, and answered the phone.

“Y/N, can you come into my office?” His voice was like Bourbon. The way the words lingered on his tongue made your knees weak and your head spin.

“Of course.” You croaked out in attempt of sounding as gracious as possible. He hung up the phone and you sunk into your chair, face palming and rolling your eyes back annoyed at how pathetic you probably sounded. You pressed open your desk drawer and quickly checked yourself in the mirror, barely re-styling your hair and touching up your lip gloss. You stood upright and entered his office, conscious of the way you presented yourself in front of him

When you entered his spacious office, he was stood looking out the large windows behind his desk that overlooked New York City. You were blessed to be based at the top of his skyscraper and to have such a beautiful view of the bustling city beneath you. He was wearing his tailored grey suit, which tugged on every piece of muscle and sculpted his body so perfectly. You couldn’t help but check him out. It was like he could feel your eyes burn into him when he turned around to face you. His face always caught you off guard. It was so mesmerising. You found yourself staring at him for an extended period of time in silence, and he was gazing at you back. He tilted his head slightly and looked you up and down. Your eyes followed his and you realised he was checking you out too. Immediately, your knees felt weak. You walked to the seat opposing his desk and sat down. He watched your every movement, probably taking in the way you stumbled under his stare.

“I think it’s going to be another late night tonight.” Max said, matter of factly. He pointed over to a stack of papers on the other side of the room. “Contracts to sign… and you know, business stuff.” He shrugged.

“I understand.” You told him and he briefly nodded at you.

“You don’t have to stay. You know that, right?” Max walked up to you in your chair and crouched down to your level. There was barely any space between you both and you could’ve sworn you were close enough to feel the heat radiate from his skin. His voice was low and raspy, and his eyes were dark like chocolate. You gulped nervously. He knew you wanted to stay. He knew you lived alone, no family in New York, no partner… you were so certain that he knew how much you wanted him. As if you couldn’t make it any more obvious. He was wrapped around your finger.

“I want- I want to stay.” You stammered and his lips curved into a smirk. You felt your cheeks burn up and you broke eye contact with him, looking at your red heels, dragging them across the carpet anxiously. Max stood up so he was towering over you, making you feel small and vulnerable – and yet, safe in his presence.

“So I’ll see you, tonight.” Max said and you stood up realising it was your queue to leave. “When everyone goes home, come to my office.” He instructed you and you nodded obediently. He flashed you one of his award winning smiles and you turned away, scurrying out of his office and back to your desk outside. That’s all he wanted. He called you into his office to ask you if you’d spend the night with him. Your mind was racing. Okay, that’s not exactly what he said. He was going to be working. And you were to be…

You cursed under your breath. He just wanted your company. You found your mind racing until the end of your shift as you played out every possibility of what could happen tonight. Or so you thought. When the sun had set and you glanced up. His personal assistant, Rebecca, said her farewells to Max and she closed his office door. You stood up, preparing yourself to enter his office but Rebecca snapped at you. “He told me to tell you, five minutes.” She snarled. You furrowed your eyebrows at her tone.

“Excuse me?” You saw red. Your survival instincts kicked in. You knew when you had rivalry, and Rebecca was exactly that.

“He’s been talking about you all afternoon,” Rebecca rolled her eyes and looked you up and down in disgust. “Don’t know why. Five minutes.” She repeated before walking away, taking the elevator.

Whatever. She was just his personal assistant. But- she was beautiful. Long black hear and emerald green eyes. Suddenly you felt extremely insecure. You slouched back into your chair and began to pick the nail polish of your nails feeling defeated. There was no way you could ever come close to competing with Rebecca’s good looks. You lost track of time and broke out of your disorganised thoughts when Maxwell approached you.

“You staying out here all night?” He asked, checking his gold Rolex wrist watch. “I told Becky five minutes. Did you not get the message?”

Becky.

“Yeah,” you mumbled. “I did.”

“It’s been 10 minutes.” Max informed. You were avoiding eye contact with him, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. “Doll, is everything alright?”

Your heart skipped a beat at his choice of nickname for you. Doll. His concern put you at ease and you were able to relax. He leaned close to you and placed his fingers under your chin, tilting your head upwards so you were finally looking up at him. He moved his hand upwards and his fingers met your lips as he traced the outline of them. You were as still as possible, refraining from opening your mouth just slightly and nibbling his fingers. When he eventually moved his hand away from your face you caught his signature smirk once again. The same smirk that made your knees weak earlier and made you feel all kinds of things you shouldn’t be feeling about your boss. You followed him into his office. The lights were out and it was candle lit, with a silk blanket on the floor, two wine glasses and a bottle of New York’s finest Chateau Latour red wine. You looked at him in awe only to see him beaming, looking… proud? You were speechless. Had he done this, for you? On the floor was a little wicker picnic basket with a baguette sticking out.

“I know how hard you work,” Max said softly, his hand meeting the curve in your back. You shivered at his touch and let out a light gasp. “So I wanted do something special for you.” This time, you felt his eyes burn into you.

“Sir…” your voice was barely above a whisper.

“Please doll, call me Max.” He said, lowering his hand down your back. You nodded in response. He pushed you gently towards the silk blanket on the floor and took your hand, guiding you to the ground. He then proceeded to walk over to his desk and tapped a button on his phone, creating a buzzing noise. You wondered what he was doing but it would soon become evident. He sat down next to you and began to pour you out a glass of the red wine. “So… do you like this?” He asked.

“I-“ you started. You figured you better take a sip of the wine in hope you could relax a little. “I never thought. I mean,” you tried to choose your words carefully as the pressure hit you under his gaze. “This is amazing.” You breathed.

He mumbled something incoherent and leaned into you. You could smell his aftershave that probably cost more than your NYC apartment and you felt the hairs on your arms spring up. His lips were less than an inch away from your neck but just then, his office doors sprung open and a band of three men in stripy shirts and berets walked in holding violins. You raised your eyebrows and Max groaned after being interrupted, repositioning himself more suitably for his guests. “Max… what is this…”

The three men began to play their violin pieces and you stifled back laughter. Okay – what was going on? What kind of game was Maxwell Lord playing? You looked over him and watched him take a sip of his wine. You were in such disbelief. You and Max listened to the violinists play for a good twenty minutes and finished the bottle of wine between you both. You felt yourself feeling a little tipsy but sober enough to not forget a moment of this simply surreal experience. Max had removed his grey suit jacket and unbuttoned the top three buttons of his white shirt, exposing his tan chest. If it was up to you, and maybe you had a few more glasses of wine in your system, you’d get him to unbutton the rest and take it off completely. But you weren’t yet drunk enough to take it that far with your boss. You had, however, felt increasingly more relaxed. The violinists left and you finished picking at the baguette Max had brought. It was just you two.

“Why?” You asked, breaking the silence. His head snapped to look at you. “Why all of this? For me. I don’t. I don’t understand.”

Max hesitated but then replied. “You work hard.” He replied simply, avoiding eye contact. It didn’t add up. It didn’t make sense. All of this. Expensive wine, violinists, dining on the floor of his office and laying on a silk rug. All of this, for you. “I gotta show you something,” he reached behind him and grabbed a controller from the shelf – one you had never seen before. “This is a new piece of technology. No one else in the tristate area has one of these.” He told you, passing you the controller. “See that red button? Press it, and then look up at the skylight.”

You followed his instruction and pressed the button. The skylight above you opened up, mechanically like nothing you had ever seen before, exposing the abyss above.

“Wow…” you whispered, admiring the way the pearly white stars pierced the velvety blue black sky. “It’s beautiful Max.”

“I know,” he murmured. But he wasn’t even looking at the sky, he was looking at you, taking in your beauty under the moonlight.

Just then, he pressed his lips against yours, taking your breath away. You gasped, opening your mouth a little only letting his tongue slip in and deepen the kiss. His lips were sweet like honey. You pressed your body into his and he held you close as your fingers laced his blonde hair. This right here, in this moment, was what you had dreamed of since the very first moment you laid eyes on Maxwell Lord, all those years ago.

---

Okay, part two will be coming soon. Thanks for reading!

#max lord #pedro pascal #maxwell lord #ww 84 #wonder woman #wonder woman 1984 #fan fiction #fluff #angst #fic #one shot #mutual pining #dc comics #dc #dc movies #diana prince #wonderwoman #reader x max lord

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thejustmaiden · 4 years

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Fiction and Real Life Go Hand In Hand

This blog goes out to all those pro-Sessrin fans out there who refuse to acknowledge the very real effects fiction can have on our world and vice versa. I highly encourage other Inuyasha fans who defend/enable these shippers to read this, as well. I assure you, by no means are my intentions here to stir up trouble. Honestly, I just want some good healthy discourse for once if that’s not too much to ask. If you do decide to engage, please be mindful of that and treat others with respect and I will do the same in return. All in all, the goal of this blog is to exercise my right to speak out and be critical about content I believe to have very potentially detrimental repercussions. I ask that you not attack me or insult me simply for stating an opinion. Thank you!

It’s like the title says, meaning fiction does matter. Where do you think we get ideas for all the stories we tell? Where do we draw inspiration from in the first place?

Real life, that's where! And yes, always with a touch of imagination! Long story short: fiction matters because real life does.

Allow me to elaborate.

Shippers of the Sesshomaru x Rin (Sessrin) pairing say it's not fair of us to throw around serious accusations or use certain deragatory terms that suggest such awful acts like child grooming or pedophilia because of the harmful implications. One of their reasonings being that some people IRL have actually lived through these traumas, so we shouldn't dare to assume they're comparable since one is just fiction and the other is not. But this isn’t about which is worse than the other, because they’re both super problematic. All we’re literally doing is making a link between grooming in real life and grooming in fiction. They mirror each other. Same issue; different mediums. We’re not undermining any one’s past experiences with grooming or the like, nor are we prioritizing fiction to diminish real life abuse. They’re both awful in numerous ways and that’s all we’re trying to say. In fact, if anything we’re attempting to demonstrate just how crucial this correlation is between them. In order to protect past victims and prevent future ones, we must remain vigiliant of the content we consume, and yes, sometimes that means we have to challenge it too. Just because it’s widely-viewed does not make it widely-accepted or well-received. It is paramount that we educate ourselves on how to be more critical of some of the harmful tropes and images that are still way too prevalent in mainstream media. Sexualizing young and pre-pubescent girls is way more normalized than some of us even realize. It’s sad but true that Sessrin is just one of many examples. I know it feels like society has failed us in a lot of ways, but it’s never too late to re-evaluate and re-learn better and more improved ways of viewing and processing information presented to us.

Our mission: Let’s not show our kids that grooming or any other form of abuse are acceptable if they may ever come to experience or encounter it themselves. Be it the real world or on screen. Deal?

There have been a number of occasions where real life victims do speak up against the Sessrin ship and express how extremely uncomfortable it makes them feel by what it represents. The problem is that it’s becoming more evident now that many of their fans will dismiss anything purely on the basis that we pose a threat to their ship and nothing more. What it comes down to is they have no real leg to stand on and cannot possibly top any of what we have to say so instead they simply disregard it. Our inconvenient truths don't fit into their ideal *cough* OOC *cough* narrative so they just choose to be willfully ignorant. It conflicts with their fantasy, so rather than present a sound argument of their own, they flat-out reject it and offer no plausible back-up behind their reasoning besides "I don't interpret it that way." GUYS, CHILD GROOMING IS NOT UP FOR INTERPRETATION.

Just because you so desperately want your ship to come true does not mean you can up and decide to redefine a word so that it caters to your stance. Remind yourself that these are complex AND objective terms that we have no right to fiddle with to serve our own selfish purposes. This is why we can conclude that there's no debate about Sesshomaru's actions towards Rin embodying child grooming.

I apologize if any of my words are triggering by the way, so please feel free to take a break and return later if that’s more suitable for you. it's just really important that everyone in this fandom comprehends the extent in which Sessrin going canon is catastrophic. And no, I'm not exaggerating; I'm simply speaking the truth. Shippers justifying these horrible acts- yes, even in fiction- is usually due to the stubborn refusal to hear us out. No offense to anyone (just stating facts), but more times than not antis like myself feel as if we’re talking to a brick wall when we interact with Sessrin peeps. They go in circles and never expand on their perspectives.

Just a head’s up: THIS GETS LONG. Stick with me. :p

Just look at their take on the Inukag vs. Sessrin relationships for example. This isn't a question of age gaps, this is a question of physical/emotional compatibility. Inukag are the same age mentally wise regardless of one being demon and the other not, whereas Sessrin is not and never will be, and yes, even once she's an adult. The thing is we have debunked this time and time again, because they’re not the same and therefore not comparable, but for some reason these fans won’t drop it. Nothing has changed in their argument, yet they’re persistent in bringing it up. I choose to not go into more detail, since like I said, you can find it around everywhere. I just wanted to touch upon it briefly to prove a point. Maybe it will come up again later in my blog though!

Where was I earlier? Right, child grooming! Haven't you guys realized that what you’re doing is precisely what child groomers do to make excuses or deny any grooming took place at all? (FYI: I’m not accusing you of being child groomers yourselves.) “They reciprocated so the feelings are mutual" is a typical groomer response, but of course it varies. More often than not, victims of grooming aren't even aware they've been groomed until much later. That's how manipulative groomers are that they can legitmately convince you that maybe you're wrong in questioning their motives. Perhaps in the victim’s mind that because one huge indicator of grooming never actually took place it technically cannot constitute as grooming. They start to doubt themselves even though their intuition is telling them something’s off. They should just ignore it then since it can’t possibly be grooming if that one particular thing never happened, right? Wrong, grooming isn’t strictly this or strictly that. It's much more complicated and multi-faceted. This is why the “but Sesshomaru left Rin in the village” point upsets me greatly. HE WAS STILL INVOLVED IN HER LIFE, Y’ALL.

On top of that, are you aware that this is the exact same kind of predatory mindset pedophiles use to describe their infatuation with children? They'll say things like, "I don't see them as an adult and a child. I see them as two people with a soul connection." Okay no joke, I wish I was lying, but that is literally a point one pro-sessrin fan on here recently used to defend this ship. It both astounds me and terrifies me that they don't see the glaring similarities they share in common with actual pedos.

Alright, I want to quickly return to what I was saying earlier about fiction's impact on real life. (Sorry, I’m a bit of a scatterbrain!)

The characters and their worlds in our stories that we dream up and bring to life are nothing short of awe-inspiring and magnificent if we so choose them to be. If it wasn't for our imaginations, stories like Inuyasha would have never come to exist. Fiction provides us an amazing outlet where we are given the opportunity to express ourselves and explore its infinite creative possibilities.

But strip away all the demons and magical components of this show we all love so dearly and what are we left with?

At the very core, Inuyasha is a story that's very reminiscent of the human experience: love, camaraderie, a sense of purpose, and much more!

So perhaps we got a full-fledged dog demon like Sesshomaru, but does that necessarily mean we can't relate to him or understand him simply because dog demons don't exist in the real world? Well, I hope that's not how you view it or else you're missing the whole point of why humans create stories to begin with. We create them to make better sense of and thus connect with the world we live in. And when you really think about it, our stories are just a celebration of life- both our struggles and our triumphs. Now I'm no philosophy professor, but I'm pretty sure they'd say I hit that nail right smack on the head. ;)

All shitty jokes aside, the whole reason I’m mentioning this specific example in the first place is because this recently came up with another Sessrin supporter. That supporter tried to defend the ship by stating that we aren't allowed to use Sesshomaru as an example to judge by since his kind don't exist in the real world.

Now if it isn't evident already, this "it's just fiction" argument is a popular go-to stance many Sessrin fans will resort to once they've run out of ideas and are metaphorically backed into a corner. The funny/sad thing is that they seem to sincerely believe this is strong enough evidence to defend their ship with, but per usual, they fail to see how hypocritical that would be. I’ll clarify soon down below.

Seriously, since when did we decide that fantasy- or any story genre for that matter- stopped reflecting the real world we live in? I mean, we humans are the ones writing these stories. Our human influence is bound to make an impact in some capacity. In fact, we want it to!

Obviously none of us have ever met a dog demon like Sesshomaru, because how could we? Let me tell ya, this is gaslighting at its finest! This is a fictional story with fantasy elements, so of course there will be beings and creatures in their world that don't exist in our own. Does that somehow translate to the fact that nothing from the story of Inuyasha can be applied to our own personal stories or that there aren't meaningful messages to be taught and learned?

So on the flipside, if they're not screaming at us "it's just fiction" for the hundred billionth time, then they are, believe it or not, doing the reverse and comparing it to real world history. One instance of this is how they tell us we're making a big deal about something that isn't real, but go right ahead and use the history of feudal Japan to support Sesshomaru's decision to court (aka GROOM) a young girl because that's how it was done back then. And so, your point being?? It wasn't right then just because it was legal, and it's most certainly not right now. This is how all of their arguments go by the way, where you'll constantly witness a cherry-picking approach. It's agonizing to endure contradiction after contradiction in their arguments filled with nothing but holes in their logic.

I'd just like to add that if we're overreacting to this fictional ship like they love to say we are then technically so are they. They tell us things like "grow up" or "nobody is telling you to keep watching," yet fail to realize they're reacting just as fervently as we are but just on the opposing side of the same damn argument. I find it interesting how they're as invested in this show but pretend they aren't then STILL have the audacity to say it's only us who care this much!? So thank you Sessrin shippers for further proving our point that fiction is more than capable of affecting reality and the people- YES, US- who reside in it.

It's insane that people act like pedophiles and other creeps don't enjoy entertainment too like the rest of us. Believe it or not, they look just like you and me most of the time. Yes, that means they can easily pass as a “regular guy” if they so wished to. My question to you is how do you think pedophiles will take it when they discover others- underage fans more specifically- who dig the same kinda media they get off to? Maybe not in the exact same way, mind you, but there's a thin line between them when you really think about it. I mean, what other explanation is there for why literal pedos on the internet have been known to sneak into pro-sessrin group chats here on Tumblr before? (Thankfully, they were later kicked.) I know that for a fact! It's almost as if the universe is trying to tell them something they refuse to listen to elsewhere. Hhmmm I wonder what that may be.

I imagine it’s possibly one of the hardest things to admit out loud and to themselves, but I can almost guarantee you that most of these Sessrin shippers who are victims of CSA and who still see no issue with Sessrin must be living with some sort of unresolved trauma caused by the very abuse they claimed to have undergone. It's been proven that victims who do not seek or properly receive the help and treatment they need in order to address and live with a traumatic experience such as this are more likely to perpetuate that very same abuse themselves in some way, shape or form. What if in this case fiction is enough for them, but who's to say it won’t eventually manifest itself in other more dire and far-reaching ways? It's not like we haven't seen this vicious cycle before, and I can promise you that Sessrin won't be the last. LET'S STOP NORMALIZING & GLORIFYING THE ROMANTIZATION & SEXUALIZATION OF CHILDREN. Fictional example: Usagi Drop. Need I say more? Real world example: Woody Allen. Again, need I say more?

Bottom line is that Sessrin shippers don't want us to think too critically about this ship of theirs, because if we dig too deep then they're forced to face the very troubling implications this pairing really stands for. Of course they'll never admit to them, because instead they rather double down and grasp at the same old straws as long as it means their precious ship is protected at all costs. Screw everyone else if that's what it takes, because they'll threaten to burn down legit buildings in real life if that ensures Sessrin goes canon! (True story, this happened on Twitter.) They’ll taunt and bully anyone who disagrees. Even if all you literally say is that you don’t like the ship, they’ll gang up on you. Tell them about your past experience with being groomed? They’ll laugh in your face. I wish I was kidding, but I assure you I am not. And they say we're ridiculous and taking this way too seriously? Yeah...

The typical behavior of a Sessrin shipper demonstrates an overly aggressive front since they're usually on defense mode anyway. They only want to ship their sick ship in peace in other words. But just because neo-nazis have a right to spew their bigoted ideology, doesn't mean we don't got the right to punch them! Freedom of speech doesn't equate to freedom from consequences. And Sessrin shippers wonder why they got so many haters. Just sayin'.

Their presence on other platforms like Twitter and Reddit are some examples of how delusional and unstable some Sessrin fans are capable of becoming. Even recently, an anon here on Tumblr sent Richard Ian Cox (English VA for Inuyasha) a totally uncalled for ask telling him that "sessrin is love and there's nothing he can do about it." (That's not verbatim, but if you're interested I'll link you to it.) It appears they discovered that he didn't like Sessrin based on how he had been replying to asks, and just for that reason alone they thought they had the right to harass him. For simply stating his opinion, y'all. They didn't even have the decency to show their face either. Talk about immature and cowardly!

Just yesterday (or was it the day before?) a fanatic Sessrin user on Tumblr- who’s also been known for hateful remarks on Twitter but those tweets have of course been deleted since then- went out of their way to not only lurk in a group chat they don’t belong to on here but to then proceed to harass a few of us in there. They had the guts to take screenshots from that group chat, tag us in posts on their page regarding what they read in there, and without our knowledge or permission went ahead and actually blogged them?? I mean, who calls out people behind their backs while they're just minding their own business?? It worries me how unhinged and out of touch with reality some Sessriners are. Not all of them, but a whole lot of them.

It seems all they are doing is looking for trouble, as they just can't stand how much we hate this ship. So it's more than okay if they love on their ship but it's not okay if we don't and we should just keep our mouths shut. But since when do Sessrin fans have authority over our opinions? Even if they were officially canon, nothing is ever gonna change our opinion. Now when they actually do decide to participate in discourse with antis, you'll see them fishing for excuses to bow out. How they normally go about this is by fabricating a way to blame us antis for their exiting a conversation as if we're being the irrational ones here.

There’s no denying that some antis can also be overly blunt or aggressive (nobody is saying we’re perfect here), but speaking for myself, I know I would never make such nasty comments about other fans and their personal lives. And honestly? It would make me feel like shit talking bad about someone I don't actually know. Nah, I won't stoop to that level or give haters that satisfaction. I may not attack them as people, but that doesn't mean I can't attack some of their messed up ideas that threaten to distort how we should or shouldn’t perceive certain dangerous situations and events. Seeing as how for me this is more than just a matter of opinion- it's a moral responsibility and even an obligation.

I know it's difficult to remain civil when things get heated and people start taking things personally- yet more proof that fiction impacts our lives- but that's the only way any of us will ever have constructive discussions about serious topics like this. Unfortunately, Sessrin shippers, from what I can tell, are incapable of engaging in real discourse for the most part. They may be vocal but that doesn't mean they can pack a punch. I’d really love to be proven wrong someday.

Okay, moving on! If they're not involved in some big-time gaslighting then they're using their infamous strawman argument approach.

Sessrin fans’ sole purpose isn't really to defend their ship, per se, but rather to deflect and antagonize. They like to mislead in order to shift the focus/blame onto their opponent or something else that's not related so that they can stray from the main point.

Take the drama CD for example. It's officially NOT considered canon, right? But that hasn't stopped many fans from referencing it anyway so let’s too consider it for a moment. The point is that they use its "existence" whenever convenient then deny it or downplay it whenever it’s not. So on one hand, it's plain as day that they celebrate it as proof of a romantic future for Sessrin. But then later once we point out to them that Sesshomaru is essentially confessing to Rin that he will wait for her until she's of age, they'll brush it off and quickly add that they didn't interpret the scene that way and leave it at that. I mean how else would you interpret it? And if it's not a proposal of sorts then why exactly are you bouncing off the walls about it to begin with?? If that's all it means is nothing then why are we even talking about this?! You see what I mean here??! And somehow we're the crazy ones?

Let me to be frank with you. If you haven’t listened to it already, this proposal he offered her sounded like a declaration of love in a multitude of ways, which is wildly inappropriate since Rin was only 12 at the time. Signifying that Sesshomaru was/is indeed grooming her. Well, that is if you choose to recognize the drama CD. Nevertheless, whether you do or not, I personally hate that this non-canon satire is even associated with the Inuyasha name to begin with. Ugh.

Intentional or not, Sesshomaru made a deliberate decision in that moment to tell a little girl- and not just any little girl mind you but a girl he's taken in under his care for a good year- that he would wait for her if she so chooses once she's old enough.

The issue is that it isn’t only age of consent we’re concerned about regarding this pairing. What Sessriners fail to see is that this grown male authority- her vassal, her guardian, her adoptive father, or whatever you wanna refer to him as- is basically making a move on this girl he had in his company for quite some time. There's no sugarcoating that. Us antis call it how it is, and I'm sure as fucking day other people who don't watch the show would most certainly agree that the Sesshomaru/Rin bond is filial. Set aside those rose-tinted glasses of yours, and going by everything we’ve been delivered in the manga and parts of the anime (and NOT the drama cd), there are literally no hints that indicate a blossoming romance between this adult male demon and this small human girl he’s taken under his wing. You can imagine them all you want if it pleases you, but that doesn’t mean they’re there. Adult!Rin is a figment of your imagination, nothing more. The idolization of this pairing is pretty disturbing seeing as all we have to go off of in canon is Child!Rin. There have only ever been sweet and innocent moments passed between the two, which is why I’m positive that an unbiased viewer or an outsider would state their dynamic resembled something akin to a father-daugther relationship. I would bet a shit ton of money on that, believe you me!

Rin's inhibitions are low because children are naturally naive and don't know any better. Remember, she adores and trust this man with all her heart, so why would she think any of this so-called grooming is not normal behavior. (I only say “so-called grooming” because I don’t think Sesshomaru bringing her gifts in the village has to be a romantic thing.) Or how would she ever be able to understand that she’s being taken advantage of if she has no previous experience with it? Maybe if she was present for that time Inuyasha and the gang scolded Miroku when they had learned that years previous he had supposedly proposed to this young girl in the village they were visiting, then Rin would. And he didn’t even assist in helping raise her but look at how they reacted! How is this any different than Sesshomaru hooking up with Rin later? It’s actually worse in Sessrin's case. Do you honestly believe that Inuyasha and the others would take kindly to this?

It's not uncommon and considered harmless for young children to have crushes on adults, after all, but the adults in these scenarios should never resort to using and abusing the position of power they held or continue to hold over this child for any reason whatsoever.

What I'm trying to get across here is that no matter how you spin it, Sessrin can NEVER be deemed a morally acceptable pairing. Like ship what you want, we're not saying you can't ship Sessrin. What we're saying is this:

STOP referring to their bond as "pure" and not expect backlash for your grossly inaccurate statements. Just admit it's toxic, because it's extremely harmful to many viewers- and not just victims- to pretend and suggest otherwise.

Please remind yourself of the very real canon fact that Rin traveled with Sesshomaru and they established a bond all while she was just a girl. Oh, and he saved her life too many times to count, not to mention brought her back from the dead TWICE. This is why I don't care much for your counter argument "that dynamics can change over time," because although that's true, like with everything in life there must be standards we adhere to. Exceptions to rules, if you will. Our own basic morals demand it.

For instance, it’s normal that some childhood friends begin to like each other as more than friends years down the road. Nothing wrong with that, because that's a natural and healthy occurrence. Now you cannot apply this to an adult and a child for obvious reasons, but what you also cannot do is apply this to an adult who met and knew another adult while they were still just a child. Why? Well, because it'd be like betraying and perverting that former child's view of you. They were never your equal because your established dynamic resembles that of one an adult posesses with a child even once they've grown up. Think about it this way: it's in the same bracket of family members or family friends who've watched you grow up and mature into an adult. Then later just because they're all grown up, does that mean that those children "are not off bounds" - that's quoting a Sessrin shipper by the way- to these certain family members and family friends?

If you're still struggling to grasp this, I urge you to take a moment (or all the time you need!) to really put yourself in that child's shoes and self-reflect. Would you truly be alright with a family friend you haven't seen in years (but sorely missed because they used to occasionally babysit you) just someday coming back into your life and then very inappropriately flirting with you or even making sexual advances on you? (Sorry for the run-on!) Or even worse, can you picture this happening to one of your own children??! Seriously, ask yourself that and sit with that for a while and really take it all in. It’s not fun, I know, but if that’s what it takes to help you finally understand then please try and practice more ways to utilize your self-awareness in the future. It’s for everyone’s benefit, not only yours, I promise! You'll also find it makes it tremendously easier to empathize with others.

I got news for those fans who don’t view Sesshomaru as a father figure to Rin. The title we give him doesn’t hold as much weight as a lot of us are making it out to be. Let’s try to be neutral here and stick to the hard facts, shall we?

*Sesshomaru is an adult male authority whose protection Rin is under*

*It’s safe to assume that Rin has grown attached to him and maybe even looks up to him*

*They care about each other and the other's well-being*

*He has has played a crucial part in her supervision and care for a significant period of time (yes, even if it’s just passing a message along to Jaken)*

Not so random anecdote: In an Inuyasha episode I recently revisited, Sesshomaru had just rescued Rin from Kohaku who had been possessed by Naraku and was ordered to kill Rin. Anyway, at the end of their scene you can hear Jaken ask out loud, “what should we do for dinner, Lord Sesshomaru?” And that’s about the most domestic thing I’ve ever heard come out of his mouth. They’re such a family dammit and nothing will ever change that!! <3

This is precisely why I could never in a million years view those past students of mine in a romantic light. I don't care how many years have passed, it's just not possible for me. Just the idea of pursuing a romantic and/or sexual relationship absolutely repels me.

Speaking as a former teacher, you don't need to be a parental figure who's around all the time in order to have great love and affection for a child. I would've done absolutely anything in my power to protect them even though they weren't my own. Then again, I did consider them my children in a way even if wasn't in a familial sense. Does that make my love for them any less unique? No, it's just different but not inferior. When you stop to think about, it really doesn't take as long as you may think to establish rapport with a person, particularly children. Connecting with a child is almost instant (but of course some are more receptive than others), and once you do make that special connection one can only make with a child, a strong and overwhelming need to guide and protect them kicks in almost automatically. The unconditional love an adult feels for a child is powerful and constant, and nothing should ever change that. As much as some of you really want to believe otherwise, that feeling doesn’t just go away because they turned 18. In your eyes, they’ll always be that kid.

I get it, sometimes when we escape into these fictional worlds of ours, it's difficult not to project our own wishes and desires onto certain characters. I don't blame fans for picturing themselves with Sesshomaru- I know I did haha- but never once did I self-insert myself as Rin. I know she's one of the biggest catalysts for his character growth- if not THE biggest- but how and why does that need to turn romantic? There are other antis who I have spoken with on this. They informed me that they used to live vicariously through Rin and ship them together, as well. As they got older, they later learned how weird and twisted this ship actually was. That's what's supposed to happen, y'all, you're supposed to grow out of that fixation.

Now take your mind out of the Inuyasha universe for a second and hypothetically (or not hypothetically if you have kids) answer me this: if and/or when you ever have a child, would you genuinely be comfortable with the idea of them dating and eventually marrying their father’s best friend who was also there to witness them grow up? Be honest please.

I highly doubt you would want that- or at least I hope not. You see, that's another MAJOR point I've made a few times already and yet you Sessrin shippers continue to avoid the question. It's pretty obvious it hasn't been rhetorical either. Ignorance is bliss?

Finally, I’d like to address one more point. It seems there is a HUGE misconception and I'd like to clear it up real quick. That is Sessrin shippers misinterpret one of the issues we have with this ship. They chalk up our complaints of Sessrin being canon (which is a LIE, nothing has been confirmed yet) to us just being salty because that somehow means our ships aren't or won’t be. I assure you, readers, other antis and I will attest that this ain't about dumb shipping wars, this is so much bigger than that!!!

I noticed recently that some Sessrin fans have even begun calling us Karens lolol like if anybody is a Karen it's them! This ain't about some mere difference in taste, this is very likely to have LONG-LASTING NEGATIVE EFFECTS. Sessrin going canon is a very harmful message to send viewers and children/teens especially. So if anything, it’s these shippers who are being the entitled ones here thinking that the fact we don’t support their ship is the worst thing in the world. NO, THE REAL PROBLEM IS CHILD GROOMING. GET OVER YOURSELF.

Out of nowhere, some of them even started assuming all us antis were white, which in their books is also equivalent to Karens or even white supremacists somehow?? Those aren't one in the same, but it's easy to make it appear that way when the US is currently tackling major systems of oppression and racial injustice. Because to them, all antis must be from over here. (Yes, I'm American. But no, I'm not white.) How else can anyone explain not shipping Sessrin, right?! Somehow they have it in their heads that ALL of Japan and surrounding places are super approving of this ship, and that everyone else isn’t because of their upbringing and “Western way of thinking.”

To give you an idea of what I mean, look back at what I talked about earlier with their incessant mention of Sessrin vs. Inukag. Because THIS is another popular example of how these shippers present their side and then ignore all the facts. Many fans have already proven how fucked up and inaccurate it is to label whole countries and cultures. It’s like they simply think mentioning it makes it count even though we’ve discredited their points over and over. Nah, you got to back it up with good reasons that support your side of the argument. That’s How To Have An Argument: 101. So at the end of the day, all they're actually achieving in doing is making dumb and entirely unrelated accusations based on nothing just to lead to deductions that are equally unfounded. Nothing at all is accomplished but more gaslighting and hurling of insults on their part = a complete waste of time for antis = an excuse for them to peace out early from the conversation & that’s what they wanted all along

We’ve reached the end (finally! sorry for all the rambling!), and I hope those of you who stayed till the end or read enough can take something positive out of this. As many Inuyasha fans are aware, there will be a livestream with the VAs for Sesshomaru and Rin coming out within the next few hours. We don’t have all the details yet, and afterwards we probably still won’t. I’m not just talking about Sessrin here but about the sequel in general. Whatever happens, please just remember to be kind to one another. If you don’t think you’re capable of doing that, then it’s best you vent and fume elsewhere. Easier said than done, I know, but just try. Throughout this blog, I admit there were moments where I got frustrated and took some jabs at Sessrin shippers. Please believe me when I say that I do not and would not ever wish any of you ill will.

Inuyasha was such a huge part of my childhood, and I’m not gonna lie, I’m anxious as hell that Sunrise will ruin one of the best things I loved about this show. So pardon me if my reactions are too visceral for your liking. haha Also, like the movies and the drama cd, this sequel is not in fact canon. Therefore, for those of you who disagree or who still plan to enjoy this new series, respect the fact that some of us fans will definitely “cancel” it if we feel that’s what we have to do to come to terms with it and move on. Fans have that right, after all. Why should we get on board with something if it’s so uncharacteristic of and unrecognizable from the original source material? If all this is some sort of cash grab of Sunrise’s doing, then count me out. I truly hope that this sequel turn outs being a lot more promising than a lot of us are expecting. I’m begging you, Sunrise, I wanna believe you’re better than this. Please and thank you!

By the way, if you’re interested, feel free to check out my two other blogs on this same subject. Click here and here. The last two screenshots do not come from something I’ve written myself. If you’d like to read more from where those came from, let me know and I’d be more than happy to send you the links. Okay, bye for now. Peace out and stay safe, everyone!

#inuyasha #hanyo no yashahime #anti sessrin #sesshomaru #rin

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