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#this one-shot is another one i haven’t read since I posted it in October
compacflt · 9 months
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This is niche (maybe) but please share more about ice and mav at Oshkosh!! Do they go yearly? Or just the one time? Are they part of any aviation enthusiast communities???
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yes yes yes!!! going to air shows is 100% a date for both of them. i feel like: a couple things:
- they’ve both probably seen the blue angels so many times it’s not super exciting anymore, and until they retire & become private citizens it’s also too big of a Thing for them to go, so they try to go to civilian/private air shows if they can
- one exception is fleet week for obvious rzns. They both probably have to do shit for fleet week on the reg. Ice especially
- i do keep thinking it would be funny for mav to do like a two year tour with the BAs at some point but there wasn’t room for that in the narrative so it’s Schrödinger’s headcanon
- before they retire their schedules are super crazy packed & don’t always line up, even if they request certain dates (like each other’s birthdays, Xmas, thanksgiving, Oshkosh etc) off in advance, so Oshkosh specifically doesn’t become yearly until after they retire. But after they retire they do annually fly in to Oshkosh in their p-51. lots of picnic lunch breaks in Reno/Omaha/Boise etc
- theyve been to the big international air shows (farnborough, Paris, NOT dubai for security/gay people issues, etc) together a couple times when they can swing it. (Me looking for any excuse to send them back to europe on vacation) but before they retire it’s also probably a Thing. So Thing-ness (public & Navy engagement etc) has to be accounted for when they’re planning their trip. they do have a responsibility to rep the Navy as best as they can etc etc
- Thing-ness also has to be accounted for when joining aviation enthusiast groups… after they retire & get married hell yes!!! they probably have a ton of civilian aviation friends & are pretty involved. not before their marriage though. It takes a while for them to come out of the hidden little shell they’ve been living in for thirty years & make friends as a real couple. but they do eventually.
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ofthecaravel · 6 months
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You Get Everything You Want
A 'You Don't Go To Parties' AND 'You Know How To Haunt' Halloween Special/ Mini Fic/ Oneshot SEQUEL
Summary: One year after the events of You Know How To Haunt and six months after You Don't Go To Parties, Sam sets the stage for a very happy and healing Halloween
Tags: POST confession YDGTP Sanny, reference to YKHTH, SMUT PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS IF YOURE A BABYCHILD PLEASE, M/M oral and handjob, dirty talk, hair pulling, teasing, idk the works, happy ending
Words: 5.7k
A/N: Don't look at me bro I don't even know. A treat for all my wonderful citizens of Caravel Nation who have been so so so so sweet to me about everything I make so BOOM here's some porn
~~~
“Is it…the astronaut?”
“Danny, we were 7 the last time I wore that costume.”
“I don’t know, I’m running out of options!”
“Well, keep guessing then!”
Danny sighed dramatically and flopped back onto the bed. Their bed, which was something he’d been really enjoying dwelling on. Danny had stayed true to his promise and followed Sam after graduation, which had led them two towns over and into a sizable apartment and jobs that they both actually enjoyed. A summer spent moving and acclimating had eventually cooled down into a nice, comfortable autumn, and now that Halloween was around the corner, Danny was watching in complete confusion as Sam took a spontaneous interest in it. Since the very first day of October, Sam had been teasing Danny about how great his costume was going to be, despite Danny’s repeated reminders that they a) had absolutely no friends in the area to show it to, b) Sam promised that they wouldn’t go to parties anymore and c) Danny wasn’t really planning on dressing up at all.
“I am reminding you once again that our current Halloween plans are to get drunk on the couch and watch The Exorcist,” Danny laughed, lolling his head on the pillow as he desperately tried to guess Sam’s costume.
“And I am reminding you once again that I also want to watch Young Frankenstein,” Sam shot back, finally peeking his head out from the bathroom. “Also, I don’t care. I’m dressing up and you’re going to lose your mind.”
“Just tell me,” Danny whined, putting on his best pleading face. Sam met it with a smile and a roll of his eyes, completely unaffected by Danny’s begging in a way that Danny wished he could be when it came to Sam. 
“No,” Sam said with a click of his tongue. “If you haven’t guessed it by now, that’s on you, buddy. You have to wait until the 31st.”
“I despise you,” Danny replied dramatically, flopping a hand over his forehead and sighing deeply.
“Yeah?” Sam laughed, peeking his head out from the bathroom again and tossing a crumpled up foam wedge at Danny. “If you hate me so much, then why am I covering up a hickey before work?”
“I know nothing about that,” Danny hummed, sitting up a little bit and giving Sam his best, most innocent smile. 
“Well, someone got a little carried away,” Sam groaned, smacking his neck with another little, white sponge and sighing. “You’ll pay for this.”
And pay for it he did. Just not in the way Danny expected.
-
Danny didn’t see Sam on Halloween morning, knowing that he had an important project in his lab that had been keeping him for more mornings than Danny preferred, so Danny enjoyed the luxury of sleeping in a little bit and doing some general tidying around the apartment. In the afternoon, he decided to run out and grab some last minute Halloween candy and other tacky goodies to appease Sam’s sudden lust for Halloween spirit, enjoying raiding the aisles of their Twix and plastic spider bounties. 
When Danny got home, he announced his presence and saw Sam’s satchel on the kitchen island accompanied by the sound of the shower running. 
“Hey!” Danny called down the hallway, dropping the paper grocery bag on the counter and starting to pull out its contents.
“Hey!” Sam echoed in a higher pitch, his voice dampened by the rush of the shower. “How was your day?”
“Boring!” Danny yelled back, loudly crinkling the bag of candy in his hand. “Got you some treats for our spooky evening!”
“Ooh! Thank you!” Sam replied. “You don’t have a costume, right?”
“Fuck no!”
“Good!”
“Why?”
“I have one for you!”
“Aw, man, Sam!” Danny groaned. “I hate costumes!”
There was a single beat of silence before Sam replied.
“Yeah, I know!” Sam answered, a weird tone in his voice that made Danny knit his eyebrows in analysis. “I’m remedying that! You’re welcome!”
Danny groaned again and Sam made a loud kissy noise, carrying on with his shower while Danny dumped candy in one of their only big bowls and read the instructions on a pumpkin shaped frozen pizza.
Now, Sam was always one to take a really long time in the shower, but he was usually pretty ready to go once he was out of it. However, this time, Danny was sitting around for much longer than he anticipated. When the blow dryer turned on, he started getting suspicious.
“What the hell are you doing in there, Kiszka?” Danny yelled down the hall again.
“I don’t want wet hair for my costume!”
“You and that damn costume,” Danny muttered to himself, shaking his head and grinning fondly. As much as it bugged him, Danny absolutely loved it when Sam dedicated himself to a cause, especially when it was ridiculous. 
“What’d you say?”
“Nothing, dear!” Danny replied innocently.
“Yeah, right!”
10 more minutes passed and Danny let out an exasperated sigh and hauled himself off the couch, making his way down the hallway towards their bedroom. 
“Hello?” Danny sang, rapping his knuckles on the closed door. “Is my boyfriend there? He promised he’d do shots with me.”
“He’s busy!” Sam sang back, his voice accompanied by the slight sounds of clothes rustling. “Can you come back later?”
“It is later,” Danny complained, leaning his forehead on the door. “Come on, Sammy, I miss you. I bet your costume is amazing how it is, now come on out and eat all this stupid candy with me.”
“I need to finish my hair,” Sam answered plainly.
“You started doing your hair half an hour ago!”
“Well, it’s not done!”
“Oh, my god,” Danny responded, a genuine irritation starting to pull at his muscles as he gently banged his head against the door again. “Seriously, Sam, come on. Halloween is wasting away!”
“5 minutes, baby, I promise,” Sam obliged, his voice taking on a gentle quality that always brought Danny to his knees. Danny sighed and murmured an “okay, love you” before trudging back to the couch. He knew that any sort of relationship with Sam meant working on Sam’s time schedule and nobody else’s, so he decided to just wait it out like he always did. Until, of course, curiosity began to overtake his annoyance. He’d spent this whole time being frustrated over Sam’s mystery costume instead of wondering what about it was so damn important, and suddenly Danny felt the minutes passing even slower as his mind started to race with images of Sam in a myriad of skimpy costumes.
So when Sam finally called out “Okay, come here!”, Danny’s knees banged into the couch’s table and he jerkily sprinted down the hallway, bursting into the bedroom to see…that Sam wasn’t there.
“Sam?” Danny asked the empty room.
“Go sit on the bed!” 
Sam’s arm peeked out of the bathroom door and waved Danny in the direction of the bed, and Danny obeyed with a confused and wild grin on his face. He smoothed his pumpkin orange sweater and spread his legs casually, his knees swinging back and forth in anticipation.
“Okay, close your eyes,” Sam’s voice piped up again, this time with an unusual nervous tinge. Danny laughed and Sam made a noise of frustration. “Just do it!”
“Fine, fine,” Danny giggled, closing his eyes and smiling. 
Without his eyesight, Danny relied on his hearing to guide him through the next few minutes. He heard the bathroom door open again, and after what he guessed was a moment of Sam checking to see that Danny had in fact closed his eyes, he heard Sam’s soft approach. Danny felt the pressure of Sam’s legs between his as he stood in front of him, and he relaxed when Sam’s hand softly came up and smoothed Danny’s hair lovingly.
“Thanks for being patient with me,” Sam said quietly, and Danny’s smile split into a grin when he felt the welcome warmth of Sam’s lips giving him a quick kiss on the crown of his head. “I just thought this could be a fun little surprise for you.”
“Can I open my eyes yet?” Danny asked.
“Mm, not yet,” Sam answered, and Danny could hear the smile in his voice when Danny let out a dramatic sigh. “You only have to be patient for another minute. I want to see if you can remember without looking.”
“Remember?”
“Yeah,” Sam muttered shyly. Danny felt Sam’s hand grab Danny’s and move it to the smooth skin of Sam’s thigh, and Danny immediately flushed at the contact. He’d thoroughly enjoyed having a whole summer of Sam in the little shorts he exclusively wore, and Danny was happy to get a taste of it back after the past month of jeans and joggers. Danny grinned further as he gave Sam’s thigh a squeeze, wringing a chuckle from Sam before he went quiet again and slowly moved Danny’s hand further up. Danny wrinkled his nose in thought as he finally felt a brush of fabric on his wrist, his hand venturing upwards of his own accord now and grasping the soft fabric of what he assumed was Sam’s boxers as something else blanketed his hand and wrist. 
“Is this…” Danny finally said. “A skirt?”
“Ding, ding,” Sam answered cheerfully, continuing to play with Danny’s hair with his free hand, his other still firmly gripping Danny’s wrist as his thumb swiped over Sam’s hipbone. 
“Freaky,” Danny smiled, wiggling his eyebrows. “I don’t think I’ve ever-”
With a jarring rush, a memory long buried came crashing down on Danny and stunned him into silence. He was about to say he’d never seen Sam in a skirt, but he had. On one, horrible Halloween night that he’d desperately tried to forget back when trying to forget interactions with Sam was a daily activity. Danny first and foremost remembered the fight that neither of them could pinpoint an origin to, as well as the miserable, slow ride he had driven alongside Sam on the sidewalk, refusing to get into Danny’s car and hurling obscenities while Danny pleaded with him to get in. But what Danny also remembered was the costume that Sam had worn and nearly driven him insane with: a simple cheerleader outfit. Still keeping his eyes shut, he tilted his head up at Sam.
“No way,” Danny breathed, his hands now roaming freely over the skirt and crop top as Sam hummed at his touch. “You kept it?”
“Of course I did,” Sam chirped, giving Danny another kiss on the head. “I had this sick determination that it’d get some proper use one day and, you know, lo and behold.”
“Did you wear it just to rile me up?” Danny asked hurriedly. “Can I look now?”
“Yes, and yes,” Sam giggled.
Danny’s eyes shot open and sure enough, there was Sam, standing cocky and gorgeous in that same cheer outfit from a year ago. It seemed like forever and no time at all at the same time. Sam had let his hair grow out over the spring and summer, and it swung gloriously in a ponytail with the same tacky blue scrunchie. A few stray pieces framed his face as he smiled triumphantly down at Danny and Danny thought for a moment (and deep down he really believed) that Sam might be the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. And here, standing barely clothed in a cheap costume he’d been hyping for a month straight just to turn Danny on, Danny thought he might also be the hottest person he’d ever seen.
“You just gonna sit there with your hands under my skirt?” Sam teased, shimmying his hips slightly to make the pleats of his skirt flip and brush against Danny’s hands. 
“Isn’t that what you wanted?” Danny countered, moving backwards a little bit and using his grip on Sam’s hips to pull him forward and down onto Danny’s lap, which was already sporting a considerable tent in his jeans. Sam’s cheeks started to glow pink and his grin grew even more sly as he settled in Danny’s lap as Danny’s semblance of restraint started to slip from his grasp as his palms slid over Sam’s soft sides and up and down Sam’s thighs. Danny let out a rattling sigh as his lips finally met Sam’s neck, eliciting a quick whine from Sam as Danny breathed in his sweet scent and began to leave long, lingering kisses, which were really more of an excuse to lap at Sam’s skin and keep him as close as possible. He babied the sensitive spot under Sam’s jaw that always drew the most noises from Sam, who he could feel was quickly hardening as he clung to Danny and giggled faintly.
“No more hickeys, thank you, so keep those teeth away,” Sam hummed as Danny’s pace started to pick up, his fingernails now digging into Sam’s skin and his teeth grazing Sam’s throat as his mind melted into blank bliss. Danny just laughed against Sam’s neck and nudged Sam down to meet him, finally giving him a heated kiss that made Sam exhale loudly through his nose and grasp Danny’s jaw as they sank into a familiar rhythm. 
“Can I ask you something?” Danny rasped, pulling back and yanking the scrunchie from Sam’s hair, causing it to fall all around them in a silken curtain. 
“Sure,” Sam answered, his eyes still greedily glued to Danny’s lips as he squirmed in Danny’s grasp to chase any kind of friction he could get. 
“What did you want to happen at that Halloween party?” Danny asked, arching a questioning brow at Sam while beginning to push his skirt further up. “Did you think I was gonna lock the door and have my way with you away from listening ears?”
“Maybe a little,” Sam mumbled shyly, his voice barely audible as he watched Danny’s hands grip and dig into his thighs, revealing his thin underwear with the skirt out of the way. 
“You probably wanted them to hear, though,” Danny murmured, giving Sam a kiss on his neck while his thumbs slowly hooked Sam’s underwear, the pad of his right thumb just barely kissing the very tip of Sam’s member. “Right?”
Sam answered with silence, still watching Danny’s infuriatingly slow movements. Danny smiled and kissed the apple of Sam’s cheek before removing a hand from Sam’s groin and sweetly sliding it into Sam’s hair before firmly tugging. Sam’s head jerked up to meet Danny’s eyes and Danny gave him a look.
“Right?” Danny repeated, brushing his nose against Sam’s so their lips were just barely touching. “Tell me.”
“Right,” Sam echoed obediently, his eyes glazing slightly as he swallowed and Danny knew he had him right where he wanted him. “I always wanted you to just do something. Anything, really.”
“Aw, you’ve always liked being my pretty little thing to fawn over, haven’t you, baby?” Danny cooed, nipping at Sam’s bottom lip and pulling away before Sam could return the favor. “Although I admit I’m a little surprised that you’re into the whole slutty cheerleader thing. Kind of basic.”
“I am not basic,” Sam scoffed, and Danny laughed appreciatively at his disgust.
“Fine, fine, maybe you’re just into the whole slut thing in general,” Danny hummed, shifting Sam off of his lap and tossing him onto his side on the bed, where he landed with a laugh as Danny rolled next to him and started attacking his neck with kisses again.  
Eventually, they ended up with Danny straddling Sam’s lap as he pinned him to the bed, his affection growing increasingly aggressive as all of Sam’s perfect little noises urged him on. Danny finally reached down to tear off Sam’s dizzying little skirt, but in the process of yanking it down his legs, he felt the cheap material rip in his ironclad grip. Immediately, they both froze and looked at the chunk of fabric in Danny’s palm, the both of them breathing heavily before Sam looked up with round, pleading eyes. 
“You like that?” Danny asked, a little bit of cockiness lacing his voice. Sam instantly began nodding and scooted his hips further against Danny, pressing into him.
“The rest, rip the rest,” Sam begged unabashedly, tossing his hair off his shoulders and staring him down. Danny smiled haughtily and obliged him, reaching up under Sam’s top and grabbing the collar before yanking down, keeping firm eye contact as the thin garment ripped loudly in his fist. Sam’s chest started heaving even more as Danny lazily tossed it aside and settled over Sam’s reclined figure again, letting Sam reach up under his own sweater and grab desperately at him while he kissed and sucked on Danny’s jaw and neck.
“Not gonna let you rip this one,” Danny joked softly, working the sweater over his head and dropping it on the carpet. “Not that I think you could.”
“How rude,” Sam muttered, not stopping even as he spoke.
“Someone’s greedy tonight,” Danny pressed on, allowing himself a moment to start to unbutton his pants and slide them down while Sam was lost in his haze. “I’m starting to think you never wanted to watch a movie.”
“My plan was if you forced me to start the movie, I’d just start sucking you off,” Sam chuckled, the warmth of his breath in Danny’s ear setting every nerve in Danny’s body alight as he began to picture it. Sam was obsessed with keeping his eyes on Danny while he did it, blinking and batting his lashes like it was nothing at all while Danny gripped his hair and writhed at Sam’s touch. The more Danny focused in on the feel of Sam’s lips on his neck and face, the more he began to crave the soft, spit slicked pressure somewhere else. 
“You should show me how you would’ve done it,” Danny purred, grinning when Sam pulled away with his eyes lit up and his hands already beginning to brace on Danny’s hips. Danny moved off of Sam and shifted to the side of the bed again, letting out a small laugh when Sam scurried off the bed and immediately sank to his knees in front of Danny, looking up at him in patient awe. Danny’s stomach fluttered at Sam’s unfettering devotion, and he cupped Sam’s cheek lovingly, pressing his thumb against the soft indent in Sam’s bottom lip to give him something to suckle on while he eagerly pulled off Danny’s boxers. Without even a moment of hesitation, Sam was on him, drawing a rare shocked whine out of Danny when Sam immediately sank his mouth over Danny’s dick and hollowed his cheeks, his tongue pressed firmly and his eyes fluttered shut. Danny tried to say something, anything, but the overwhelming and unrelenting sensation of Sam’s perfect, expertly trained mouth rendered Danny speechless and reduced him to loud, shuddering breaths and hums. 
“Sam, come on, slow down,” Danny finally choked out, lacing his fingers into Sam’s hair and pulling him off of him. Sam’s eyes met his, looking frenzied and nearly crazed as spit rolled down his chin and his flushed lips stretched into a lazy smile while he caught his breath. He went limp in Danny’s grip as he always did when Danny touched his hair in any capacity, giving Danny a moment to think when he remembered the glittering scrunchie on his wrist. With shaking hands, he pulled it off and smoothed Sam’s hair back, tying it up with a snap of the elastic and tightening it just rough enough for Sam to wince and flush. Firmly, Danny kept his grip on the scrunchie and guided Sam back down, unable to help his own smile when Sam kept his eyes on him when his sweet smile closed over his cock again and welcomed it readily. Danny set the pace this time around, keeping Sam slow and steady as he sucked and lapped while Danny’s breathing picked up and he felt his release approaching far sooner than he wanted. In moments of pure pleasure and connection like that, Danny wished time could stop and they could stay in frozen ecstasy forever, only restarting and stopping again to give Sam his own turn. With Sam on his knees with the remnants of the cheerleader costume, Danny thought for a moment about Halloween night the year previous. He had erased and rewritten the ending of that night a thousand times in his head, and this felt like the ultimate redemption and the perfect ending he had dreamed of. God, the only thing he’d wanted to do was lock the door and make Sam pay for all the tension and frustration with his hands and cock, and the memory of those emotions made Danny’s grip tighten and pick up the pace. Sam seemed to notice this, his eyes going soft and dopey as his neck bobbed faster and faster and he started to choke out spit slick whimpers and gags in response. The pleasure was overwhelming and it wasn’t long before Danny realized he was a goner.
“It’s all yours, baby, all yours,” Danny breathed, his mouth dry and his hips now bucking into Sam’s mouth as he felt his muscles contract and his adrenaline buzz. “Take it, take it, take it, take it-”
Sam let out an unexpected, needy whine and Danny’s hips bucked one more time before he was pushed over the edge, letting out a relieved, stuttering groan as he came hard and painted Sam’s throat. Sam, ever the obedient angel, only waited until Danny was finished to bring his hands out from behind his back to give Danny a few last pumps that made Danny cry out and fall flat on his back, his spent cock leaking one last time. Sam cleaned him up dutifully as Danny heaved and stared at the ceiling, his breath rattling in his throat as he swallowed and came down from his high. 
Danny was only shook from his delirium by the warm, gentle presence of Sam kissing the still shivering insides of his thighs, which made Danny smile as he wiped sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. But Danny only sat up when Sam’s usual kisses turned into gentle nips and suppressions of stilted breaths and moans, looking down curiously at Sam as he realized that Sam was grinding down on the ground with his eyes closed and his mouth pressed feverishly to Danny’s skin. 
“Hey, bunny,” Danny said quietly, as if not to disturb Sam from his haze. When Sam was in this state of mind, it was hard to shake him from it until he came. “How are you?”
Danny softly put his hand on Sam’s cheek and Sam nuzzled into it, kissing his palm and trying to suck at his fingers as Sam’s hips rolled and pressed down into the carpet, his movements practiced and shuddering. Danny got a chill watching Sam try to relieve himself in such a desperate, mindless way, and he suddenly felt a loving mercy. Sam’s pleasure was really Danny’s, and he always wanted to help. 
“Come here,” Danny urged softly, shifting back on the bed to give Sam enough room to sit on his lap again, which Sam did quickly despite his wobbling legs. He straddled Danny’s wide, toned thigh and let out a content sigh, his cock still restricted by his underwear as he started grinding again. Danny let his hands settle on Sam’s hips and he applied just enough pressure to give Sam a lot less freedom to rock, keeping him flush and anchored as Sam frowned petulantly and his hips struggled to jerk. 
“Not gonna be that easy, honey,” Danny smiled, kissing Sam on the cheek and looking down at the visibly dampened fabric of Sam’s tented underwear. “But you like that, don’t you?”
“It hurts,” Sam mumbled, his words soft and whining as he fought for friction. “I’m close.”
“I know, I know,” Danny whispered soothingly. “But you haven’t earned it, have you? Kept me waiting all month for a costume that got ripped in 20 minutes, and now you’re almost ready to cum without me doing a damn thing. That’s no fun.”
“Sorry,” Sam whispered back, his motion slowing as he shrank in shame. But his cheeks were still rosy and his arms lifted to circle Danny’s neck and Danny knew that he was still more than happy to be where he was. 
“You better be,” Danny replied darkly, his nails digging into Sam’s skin as he pushed him down even harder on to his thigh. “Did you like having the control for a little bit? Stringing me along like you used to, you little fuck?”
“Yeah,” Sam answered honestly, his voice soft and hoarse as he kept his head down, his eyes glued to where his knee was pressed to Danny’s flushed cock. 
“Fuck you for that,” Danny hissed in Sam’s ear, biting hard on Sam’s earlobe and releasing his grip ever so slightly to allow for Sam’s jerk reaction. He jumped a little before grinding down again, his movements incessant as his throat leaked a pathetic whine, swallowing a little like he was about to cry. When Danny grabbed his jaw and forced him to look up, he could see the tears glossing Sam’s sleepy doll eyes as he stared pleadingly at Danny. 
“Isn’t it so much easier to just let me do everything for you?” Danny pressed further, falling into his old habit of talking Sam through it with a barrage of questions that scrambled him into a babbling, empty headed little toy with a thousand buttons for him to press. Sam nodded immediately and Danny grinned victoriously.
“See what happens when you try to take over?” Danny purred condescendingly, fully removing his hands from Sam’s hips and smoothing them down Sam’s legs and then up over the curve of his ass, pulling Sam closer and causing him to cry out from the sudden friction. 
“Danny,” Sam whimpered, his voice cracking as he wordlessly began to reach his peak. “Come on, you’re being so mean to me.”
“But that’s what you wanted,” Danny assured confidently. “It’s always you being my sweet thing to love on. But there’s a reason you picked that costume to remind me of that night…that fucking night. You don’t want to feel like you’re my perfect angel.”
Danny paused for a moment, and Sam watched him as he let the tension stretch and thicken. It was delicious, and infuriating, and Sam was dizzy and tearful and horrifically in love. 
“You want me to feel like how I did that night,” Danny continued, his words like a revelation as he shook his head slightly at Sam, his lip curling a little. “And you want to feel like I fucking hate you.”
Sam didn’t answer, his back arching inwards as he buried his head against Danny’s neck and gave a pathetic little buck, his body communicating what he couldn’t with words. Danny chuckled lightly, taking in this new information and letting it sink in. He expected to be uncomfortable with the thought of talking to Sam like he had always wanted to when they had been in that frustrating space where Danny was never sure whether he wanted to fuck or fight him more, but he wasn’t. 
This night wasn’t just a fun tease. 
It was a catharsis. 
Maybe Sam hadn’t been entirely aware of the ground he had laid with this plan, but Danny was a little impressed. Honestly, it made him love Sam all the more. But those warm feelings were not what either of them needed at that moment, and Danny was going to take advantage of this while he could.
“I did hate you,” Danny whispered, hooking his fingers over the waistband of Sam’s underwear and finally pulling it down, drinking in Sam’s immediate gasp  as his stiff dick met the cool air. “You hated me too, probably. Unwarranted, but I get it.”
Danny pulled on Sam’s ponytail to free his face from Danny’s neck, holding his palm under Sam’s mouth and suppressing a loving smile as Sam immediately spit, still unable to look Danny in the eye. Danny finally put his hand to Sam’s dick, pumping slow and hard and Sam fell into the warmth of Danny’s shoulder again as he let out a long, low groan. Danny loved all of Sam’s high pitched squeals and cries, but there was something about the sounds from deep in Sam’s chest that gave him a different thrill. He kissed Sam’s neck and leaned his head against his, his ear in the perfect spot to hear every tiny sound. 
“You were such a fucking bitch,” Danny growled, his speed picking up ever so slightly as he let his mind wallow in the dark places he hadn’t touched on in over six months. “I used to think about you bending over those randoms like you gave a fuck and just fume. That’s not what you needed, that’s never what you needed. You needed this. To shut the fuck up for once in your life and just take it.”
Mirroring Sam’s frenzy from early, Danny took his grasp on Sam from zero to 100 in a moment’s time, his wrist aching as he stroked and pulled despite Sam’s sharp cry in his ear to slow down. 
“You wanted me to fuck you, so here I am, fucking you,” Danny smiled, cupping the back of Sam’s head and pushing him back against his skin, muffling his whines and gasps. “Fuck, fuck you, baby. Fuck. You.”
With a cresting sob, Sam arched and came in Danny’s hand, his chest heaving as Danny’s frustration melted in an instant and he immediately began a stream of whispered praises into Sam’s wild hair. Danny began to panic slightly when Sam’s small sobs into Danny’s neck continued. When he leaned back to assess Sam, he worried that he went too far when he saw Sam’s face flushed and streaked with large tears that still pooled in his pale waterline. Sam sniffed and gave him a little smile, chuckling scratchily while Danny kissed his face and held him flush to his chest, fervently asking if he was okay and apologizing profusely. 
“No, no, I’m fine, Dan,” Sam insisted, his voice very fond as he pushed Danny’s hair back and pressed his cheek against Danny’s as he leaned into him. “Great, actually. Just got overwhelmed. s’good, baby, it was really, really good, I’m okay.”
“My poor baby,” Danny cooed, twisting to keep kissing Sam’s cheek and then migrating to his lips, still whispering sweet nothings between hot, wet kisses. 
“Stop, I’m gonna cum again,” Sam giggled as Danny kissed his neck. “Where are my boxers? Lemme off.”
“No, stay here,” Danny complained, locking his arms tight around Sam’s torso and falling backwards again, sending Sam sprawling on top of him and making his ponytail smack Danny in the eyes. They laughed as they struggled against each other, with Sam finally rolling off of Danny and the both of them laying in the silence following their laughter for a moment before Danny spoke up.
“Happy Halloween,” Danny grinned, turning to look at Sam. Sam smiled back at him and Danny felt his heart flutter. At the end of it all, it was all just Sam, wasn’t it? He was everything. It washed over him in the wake of the tired old anger he’d tapped into that he realized was really, truly gone from his heart. He accepted it with a sigh and it seemed like Sam had heard each and every one of those thoughts, knitting his brow sympathetically for a moment before smiling wider and scrunching his nose at Danny.
“Happy Halloween indeed,” Sam said with a teasing flair. “We need to throw this blanket in the laundry immediately. And I might need to be thrown back in the shower.”
“Roger that,” Danny sighed. “Are we really not gonna watch a scary movie?”
“We can!” Sam assured, looking over the edge of the bed for any stray shirts or sweatpants. “I just want to be clean first.”
“No blow drying this time,” Danny instructed, rolling onto his stomach and grabbing his sweater from off the floor and tossing it onto Sam’s head. “Here.”
“Yes,” Sam said excitedly, finally standing up and then swaying slightly when his knees threatened to buckle. “Woah, shit.”
“Yeah, man, you had quite a ride,” Danny teased, which Sam received with a disgusted scoff and a kiss on Danny’s forehead before he set off towards the bathroom. “Wait, bring me a washcloth!”
“Yes, sir,” Sam replied in a mocking, breathy tone, and Danny rolled his eyes fondly at Sam’s immediate return to attitude. “Wait, oh my god!”
“What?”
Sam let out a little laugh and walked out of the bathroom as soon as he’d ducked through the doorway, holding his hands behind his back with a barely contained laugh.
“Hold out your hands,” Sam said with a grin. “I forgot to give you your costume.”
“Oh, right,” Danny replied with a curious lift of his eyebrow, cupping his palms and closing his eyes again. “Forgotten in the heat of the moment, I guess.”
“You’re gonna love it,” Sam giggled, letting something cold and something fabricky settle in Danny’s palm. “Surprise!”
Danny opened his eyes and immediately scoffed with a laugh when he saw the glasses and bowtie in his hand, giving Sam a “Really?” look. 
“Dang, this was going to be a full blown roleplay, huh?” Danny teased, making a grab for Sam, causing him to try and snake his way out of Danny’s grasp while he blushed.
“Maybe I think you’re cute in glasses,” Sam flirted, playfully swatting Danny’s shoulder before turning towards the bathroom door again. “Plus, you are a nerd.”
“What are you, 9?” Danny joked. “You’re literally a scientist, I’m pretty sure that makes you the king of nerds.”
“Bow down, then, biatch,” Sam said with grandiose. Danny immediately started booing him and Sam slammed the door behind him, his laughs muffled by the wood. Danny stared at the door, the smile still heavy on his face as he listened to the shower turn on and the curtain rustle, finding it almost unreal that it was Sam in there. In this apartment, even. With Danny. And on top of that, with him in the way that he’d always dreamed. Whatever nightmare they’d endured had melted into what Danny was convinced was a dream, and as he sat stripped and sore, he prayed for the first time in a long time that he’d never wake up. 
~~~
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violette-hue · 1 year
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I posted 250 times in 2022
That's 140 more posts than 2021!
116 posts created (46%)
134 posts reblogged (54%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@ceo-of-daichi
@kagejima
@witchthewriter
@kingdaddydaichi
@violette-hue
I tagged 147 of my posts in 2022
Only 41% of my posts had no tags
#matchups - 63 posts
#fandom match ups - 63 posts
#thank you! - 53 posts
#i hope you enjoy! - 42 posts
#match up - 42 posts
#violette-hue - 24 posts
#match ups - 22 posts
#haikyuu - 20 posts
#game of thrones - 14 posts
#harry potter - 14 posts
Longest Tag: 55 characters
#i’m really hoping i get an apple pencil to try some art
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
First Time Headcanons
(George Weasley, Fred Weasley, Bill Weasley, Draco Malfoy)
Requests are open
500 Match-Up Event
Minors do not interact. 18+ only.
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George Weasley
He'd be very nervous, but not because it's hist first time. It's yours.
And he really doesn't want to fuck it up
He loves you so so much, he just wants everything to be perfect
He has thing whole night planned, right?
To wine and dine you, to woo you some and then make love to you until dawn
When it comes down to actually doing it, he's so shaky, poor baby had a little hard time pushing into your entrance
But when the pink head of his cock buries into you, he's a moaning mess
It's not as magical as he thought, but it was so worth it
The aftercare is so sweet
He makes sure to give you a hot towel and give you lots of kisses and cuddles
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723 notes - Posted October 5, 2022
#4
I just read ‘Let’s get to know one another’ with Robb Stark and Reader and fell in love with it! Since your requests are open, is it possible to get a second part to this fic?? Like with Talisa trying to hurt the reader after the reader and Robb reveal that they are expecting a child?? And Robb panics and freaks out on Talisa and is super worried about the reader and confesses they love the reader?
Summary: Part two to Let’s Get to Know One Another. Talisa is not happy and threatened that you are expecting Robb’s child first.
Trigger Warning(s): pregnancy, vomit, mentions of vomit, violence, mentions of violence, jealously, cheating/affair, mentions of an affair, unedited
Word Count: 2.6k
A/N: Thank you so much! I happy you loved it 😊 Hopefully you’ll love this one just as much! I , however, don’t think this is one of my best works. I don’t think Talisa is an aggressive person to hurt anyone, so I  had to kinda make things up. Sorry if you don’t like it!
500 Match-Up Event
Requests are open!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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You knew Talisa would be a problem from the moment you agreed that Robb could have his affair. As of late, she had been pining for his attention more than usual. Of course, Robb had obliged. You couldn’t understand how Robb could make love to you one night, then rendezvous with Talisa the other.
To make matters worse, your feelings had grown for Robb. So much so that nearly the scent of him lingering on his pillow called you down. You loved him with every fiber in your being. If only Robb felt the same way.
You sighed, pushing a fat sausage across your plate. You had no appetite, the smell of the sausage making you more nauseous than anything. You didn’t want sausage, you didn’t want eggs or toast. You wanted stew. A nice, rich and warm beef stew. You sighed again.
“Are you alright? That’s the second time you’ve sighed,” Robb asked, looking over at you with worry.
You looked over at him startled. “I’m fine, My Lord,” you responded, placing your fork down. “Just tired.”
A couple of guards snickered, no doubt their minds in the gutter. Robb shot them a glared and they immediately ceased.
“You haven’t even had a bite of your food,” he stated, reaching over to grab your hand. He idly brushed his thumb along your knuckles.
You smiled at him in hopes to quash his worry. “I’m not hungry, my love,” you said and blushed at the pet name. We’re you allowed to address him like that in front of everyone?
Robb’s eyes softened and he smiled back. “Please do try to at least eat some of your breakfast.”
You nodded, removing your hand from his to grab your fork. All you had to do was eat one sausage, then Robb would be content. You stabbed the sausage with your fork and took a small bite. Nausea rolled through your body like violent waves and you fought to keep the small piece down. You took another bite, this time bigger and chewed. Robb smiled to you and started conversation with his mother, his eyes away from you. You took a few more bites of the sausage, chewing the meat, but not swallowing it. Once it was gone from the plate, you stood, silently excusing yourself and made way to your chambers.
Unfortunately, you weren’t able to make it to your chambers before you doubled over and vomited. A nearby handmaid rushed to your aid, pulling your hair out of your face and rubbing your back.
“Are you alright, m’lady?” she asked, helping you step away from the bile.
You shook your head. “I’m so hungry,” you said, wiping your mouth with your handkerchief. “But I can’t stomach breakfast.”
The handmaid smiled sheepishly. “Would you like to make a request of the kitchen?”
You thought for a moment. You didn’t want to bother the kitchen staff with a silly request. But, ultimately, you didn’t think you could stomach anything but beef stew.
You nodded. “Please—beef stew.”
The handmaid arched her brows, a look of surprise drawn on her features. The surprise quickly left and was replaced with a small, gleeful smile.
“I’ll let the cooks know and bring the stew to your chambers.”
You nodded and made your way to your chambers. Tiredness seeped into your bones out of nowhere and you sat down at the foot of your bed. Perhaps, if you just lay down for a bit...
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1,004 notes - Posted May 27, 2022
#3
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Geralt.
Summary: Geralt saves you from vampires and you won’t stop rubbing your ass against him. 
Trigger Warning(s): minors do not interact, smut with very little plot, cursing, violence, death, almost dying, chocking, unprotected sex, slight/lowkey breeding kink(?)
Word Count: 4.2k
A/N: My first Geralt fic :) Hope y’all enjoy!
Requests are open!
Winter had always been so harsh, too harsh for your liking. You watched your breath come out in white wisps and frowned. Though you had always enjoyed the white flurries descending from the sky, you much more preferred them from indoors. You must have been the biggest fool you knew to be out in this type of cold. But the rumors the locals fed you were far too interesting for you to ignore.
You needed the coin just as badly as you needed some warmth. And safe lodgings. This job would provide enough money for hot food in your belly, a new set of warmer clothes, and lodgings. All you needed to do was kill this vampire. But sneaking around in the woods lead you to a nest. With multiple vampires. If you survived, if you actually managed to kill this entire hoard, you’d surely demand more payment.
But that was the last thing to have on your mind. Not as one of the vampires snuck up behind you and took a good bite from you neck. You could feel the blood in your body being sucked out, could feel your limbs go numb as the vampire fed on you. 
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1,081 notes - Posted May 29, 2022
#2
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Let’s Get to Know One Another
Summary: Robb Stark has to pick a wife out of Lord Frey’s daughters. He chooses you. What will happen when you’ve agreed to allow him to continue his affair with Talisa?
Trigger Warning(s): angst, cheating/affair, smut, virgin, marriage, man+woman, fem!reader, mentions of pregnancy/bearing children, 18+ only, **minors do not interact**
Word Count: 3.6k
A/N: Hi guys! It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything. I’ve finally made 200! So to celebrate, here’s my first Game of Thrones fic.
500 Match-Up
Part One | Part Two
Requests are open!
Your heart felt heavy as your handmaidens assisted you dress. Today was supposed to be a happy day, a day to rejoice. And yet you couldn’t even muster a smile.
Today you would wed Robb Stark, the new Lord of Winterfell and the proclaimed King of the North. He had chosen you to be his wife in return for your father to allow him and his men to cross the Twins. Robb had promised marriage upon his return, and that nearly didn’t happen. He had fallen in love with someone else, he told you. So naturally, Robb didn’t want to proceed with the marriage, claiming it was not the honorable thing to do, but thankfully you convinced him otherwise. If his wife knew and consented to the affair, it wouldn’t matter. What would matter, however, would be your father pledging his allegiance with the Lannisters to return the humiliation and destroy him. And now, here you were, already becoming the other woman in your beautiful wedding dress. What were you to do?
You raised your head and took a deep breath. Nothing. Move on with life as if everything was normal. That’s what you would have to do.
You slipped on the furry, white hand muffs and allowed yourself to be escorted to the Godswood. There, Robb stood in his regalia, sporting a dark brown fur cloak with matching boots. The darkness of his clothes was a stark contrast of the pure white snow around him, of the pure white of your dress. His reddish brown curls glistened with melting snowdrops and brushed his brow. Robb looked up to you, his steel blue eyes locking on yours. You should smile at him, that was the bridal thing to do, but you couldn’t. His eyes held no love in them, no want. What had you gotten yourself into?
You approached to stand next to him, and before you knew it you had numbly said your vows. You were now man and wife. The Lord and Lady of Winterfell.
Robb guided you back inside, into the grand hall where a large feast was laid. Musicians immediately started up with song and the merriment began. You sat at the head of the table next to Robb and looked at your guests. You were watching a couple dance lovingly together when loud laughter nearby caught your attention. You looked to your right to see Robb smiling brightly at a beautiful woman. Her hair was dark, her skin tan, and her eyes… This must be the woman Robb had fallen for. Why else would they look at one another as if they were the only ones that existed?
Your empty stomach rolled and you could feel bile rising in your throat. You stood abruptly, many of the guests looking your way.
“I feel ill. I’ll be retiring for the night,” you said, stepping around your chair.
You saw Robb scrunch his brows as he watched you leave, but you gave him no opportunity to speak. You were already reaching the hallway.
A guard showed up at your side and gave you a sympathetic look. You ignored it. Of course you knew seeing him with someone else would be hard, but you didn’t think it would be this hard. Further, you didn’t think he would choose her over you at your own wedding. You chewed on the inside of your cheek and sucked in a sharp breath, reminding yourself of your place. You were the other woman, not her.
When you finally approached your chambers, you had a handmaid draw a warm bath, then leave. You wanted to be alone. No one would see you cry. You peeled your dress off and stood in front of the full length mirror. A satin, sheer night slip hug onto your body, your nipples perked up with the cold. You turned slowly, examining your figure through the sheerness of the slip. How disappointing to waste such an appealing dress.
You made work to pulling the pins out of your hair and allowed your locks to fall down your shoulders. Would Robb even be interested in consummating the marriage? You pursed your lips. You knew you would like to. You’d like to know what Robb would feel like inside you—how it would feel for him to move inside you. An ache throbbed between your legs and a small gasp passed through your lips. What was this reaction? You shook your head and turned from the mirror, yanking the straps off your shoulders. There was no point in imagining. You were sure he would choose that woman over you.
The door to your chambers opened and closed as you shimmied out of the sheer slip. “I told you I’d like to be alone,” you said, tossing your hair over your shoulders and walking to the basin.
You turned to step into the basin and caught sight of who had entered the room. Your eyes widened at the sight of Robb and you tripped, falling into the small basin. Water splashed onto the floor, leaving the basin half empty. You managed to bring yourself up on your knees and hold onto the walls of the basin as you cough up the water that was accidentally inhaled.
In a matter of seconds, Robb was at your side, one hand cupping your cheek gently as the other tucked your hair behind your ear.
“Are you alright?” Robb asked worriedly.
You nodded. “I wasn’t expecting you,” you admitted. “You caught me off guard.”
Robb smiled gently and helped you to your feet. Standing in the basin, you were eye to eye with him. 
“Are you hurt..?” Robb’s eyes trailed down your body, and you became very aware of your nakedness. 
A fervent blush creeped up your cheeks and you shook your head. “Not physically,” you mumbled. “Would you...help me out? Almost all the water is gone and it’s run cold.”
Robb nodded and placed his hands on your waist. He lifted you with ease, setting you down gently in front of him. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. 
“Did you come here for a reason?” you asked, hurriedly reached for the discarded white slip and rolled it on. It didn’t feel right to be so vulnerable in front of him. 
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1,246 notes - Posted May 17, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
Jealous
Summary: Steve really doesn't like the person you're interviewing, so afterwards he fucks you sensleess.
Trigger Warning(s): unprotected sex, cursing, degradation, slight forcing, mentions of breeding kink, not proof read, maybe some typos
Word Count: 3.4k
A/N: Happy early birthday @ceo-of-daichi ! Possessive Steve is the best Steve~ (P.S. - I drank some tea for the flu in hops that it'll make me feel better, so the last half of this was written with a drowsy mind).
**Minors and ageless blogs do not interact. 18+ only**
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“You’re interviewing him?”
You turned to look at your boyfriend as you buttoned up your blouse. You cocked a brow at the tone of his implication. You had been getting ready for a meeting for an interview that was to be done in an hour when he stalked into the room.
Ever since Steve had found out you were interviewing Loki for his part in the literal destruction of New York City, he had been making comments here and there on why this was a bad idea. Maybe he was right, but you were just over the moon Loki had even agreed to do an interview with you.
"Babe, I don't really see what's the problem," you responded nonchalantly, taking your time to button up the last few buttons. To show some boobage or to not. You chewed on the inside of your lip in thought.
Steve scoffed. "Are you kidding me? He just tried to take over New York City, causing millions in destruction. He's dangerous."
"Dangerous." You repeated. "Everyone is dangerous, Steve, even The Avengers. Besides, there's going to be, like, a bunch of police guys there guarding him. I actually think they might be S.H.I.E.L.D. agents."
You watched as the muscles on Steve's arm flexed as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
"Jesus Christ, Steve--"
"Language--"
"Why don't you just come with me? Brood in the corner like my silent protector."
It was silent for a few heartbeats, and you thought Steve might laugh in your face. Instead, he shook his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
"Fine," Steve said, leaning back against the door frame. "Button up your shirt again, I missed the show."
You giggled and rolled your eyes, but obeyed. You unbuttoned your blouse, then buttoned it back up again slower this time, giving a good show.
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3,554 notes - Posted November 20, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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hurdlehoops · 3 years
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SPN did Market Research for Dean & Cas
Disclaimer: Yes this is a sock for safety reasons. Post is long, but please read it.
No shit there I was checking my email, as you do, and I saw I had a screener from one of the market research groups I’m signed up with.  On average, I do a market research thing every 3-4 months because I like non-reportable money. And giving my opinions. And talking to people behind 2 way mirrors without having to go to a police station.   
Market research itself was early December, 2016. First email contact with the screener was late October or early November. 
I see it’s an “offsite,” meaning a market research company is subcontracted by another company who wants to do the market research at their own facility, but doesn't want to find the participants on their own, so they use the Market research company (in this case Schlesinger and Associates) as an intermediary. I can’t remember if this screener identified itself as being for TV, not all do, some might identify only as entertainment, and some might be even more vague until you get into the screener. Regardless of the identification for the screener (TV or entertainment), I fill out almost every screener I receive unless it’s obvious, from the subject, they won’t want me (ie looking for certain types of professionals)- it didn’t matter, then, if the subject matter was something I particularly like, I would’ve filled it out anyway.  
After normal, but more detailed than usual demographics questions, the screener asked about TV habits. Eventually,  it said the word “fandom” and asked what TV fandoms I’d count myself in.  It was roughly a list of 20 shows and listed “fandom” (defined as I watch every episode and read additional materials about the show. Note this is not what fandom itself would consider fandom, but people most fandom dwellers would still count as GA).  Beyond fandom, one could indicate they: watch all episodes but don’t seek out more,  watch most episodes, have seen some episodes, watched a few, or haven’t watched.  (I just got a screener for soap operas and realized that part was the same and made note). Therefore, fandom, to corporate, are people who watch everything and maybe buy some swag for the show- magazines/shirts. Then, they asked about conventions I might have attended.  And then asked about my dream vacation, so I babbled a lot about my dream to go to SDCC (I hadn’t at this point). Supernatural was on the list of shows, so I made sure I answered the essay questions about it, because why not? It was my favorite of what was listed.  It was a long screener. I don’t remember the rest. Though sometimes I might remember a detail if a screener reminds me of it. Most fun screener I’ve filled out.
A few days/weeks later, I got a call for step 2- the phone screener for the people that sounded good when filling out the form. And where they try and make sure your answers match or fit that same person who answered them. I passed step 2, and was told there would be homework, and asked ifI’d have time for it, since I would only have so many days to watch the assigned material and write essays about them. 
Homework arrives: I have to watch and write essays on all the bonus features of Supernatural S10. There might’ve been something in there from another year, too. And all the bonus features from some season of  Big Bang Theory.  Essays for all of it, too.  And I mean essays, not short answers.  It was like the SATs, and I was analyzing blooper reels (among other things).  I still don’t get why they wanted essay questions on blooper reels, but I’ll always happily write one again cause that was the funniest essay to have to write! 
I had to both print and bring and email all my answers ahead of time.  I did not keep them.  I’m honestly curious what I might’ve written.  
So in December, I get to go to WB’s market research department. Fun fact: the entrance to that building faces what had recently been the Supernatural poster. I check in. At this point I think it’s a group. Because most market research is done in groups. Also they said I was there for the “DVD bonus features study” 
I wait in the lobby, but I’m surprised there seem to be very few others around. I don’t think I got there too early, but all the others were taken back before me. And they didn’t seem to be there for the same study.  Oh and I wore business casual clothes but had some show-based earrings for fun.  
Finally a nice lady brings me back to a room. She turns off the lights and gives me a fancy remote and has me play with a new system for watching bonus features. I had to start with BBT. Then we did something else. Then I was allowed to scroll through and I picked Supernatural, and answered all the things.  By this point I figured I would be released soonish   because I was supposed to be there only for an hour. And this was at least half an hour at the most. No clock, though and cell phone off.  Maybe this part went faster than I remember, but it was less interesting so it felt longer? Or less interesting compared to what came next. 
We switch gears. I’m no longer allowed to pick what we watch and talk about my thoughts on if SDCC panels belong in bonus features.  (Me: should have a preorder and you get to watch it when the season airs with DVD to arrive when season ends. Silly to watch it after the season when it’s mostly vague spoilers for the first episode or so). Obviously WB doesn’t listen to me about everything.
Oh! In the screener as part of normal demographics, I was asked about my sexuality. It isn’t completely rare (I can talk about another market research where you had to be queer to be part of it), but there were some short answers about representation or something similar. Something that is significant *now,* but at the time I didn’t notice as being too weird.  Since they probably had me listed to the people behind the mirror as X (if they even got my name) Y resident, bisexual, age.  I very specifically said stuff to her about representation cause I wasn’t gonna miss my shot.
Anyway so we switch from dvd extras and she queues up video from another file.
She puts a scene of Supernatural on and has me watch. Then repeats it. And asks questions about my opinions on what’s happening.  Then has me watch and only pay attention to Character D and tell her what I think his emotions are.  Then again but with Character C.  
Complete torture… lol… at this point I’m confused, but enjoying this torture.
So there I am watching the Crypt scene over and over and analyzing it.  And talking about their feelings.  
And then I stop her and say something to the effect of “look I’m bi. There’s not a lot of good representation on what being bi is like.  But from episode 1 I’ve known Dean is Bi.”    And I babbled about how important a macho badass but closeted character is for representation. And that I hoped they did more with that.  I included some anecdotes from other lgbtq friends and straight allies and how they all felt as I did- Dean is Bi, Cas is whatever he wants to identify as, and we felt we recognized our experiences on the screen and hoped for continued and louder representation. 
Bam. My interviewer was called out of the room by the people behind the mirror. Suddenly I’m getting a whole new set of questions
Like this is the most baffling and amazing thing that's happened to me in years. It imprinted in my mind, and I haven’t mentioned it to too many people, because of the NDA and being afraid to jinx things. But now I don’t feel like it matters to be as quiet. Obviously I don’t want WB to go after me but... market research isn’t unusual, just mostly used for spin-offs or new shows not for plot points of shows already happening. At least, that’s my understanding. 
The interviewer  comes back after a short discussion with whoever was behind the glass. Asks a few more questions
We’re now very much going into various things about what I’d just said. I took my shot. And apparently it paid off big time.  At some point she’s pulled out of the room again and given a paper with more questions. Some were about Dean’s bisexuality, or how I, and anecdotally my friends, saw him as bisexual.  Others were about the potential romance. None, that I remember, were about Castiel’s sexuality- I guess that was a given or not important. 
I don’t know if any of the writers were behind the glass from the beginning, but I felt like they stalled to get someone there, maybe.
The interviewer was baffled and made sure I knew nothing that was happening was normal.  They wanted to ask me more questions than they usually care to get out of their market research volunteers. 
So those are the most important parts. Basically almost everything I was asked after that was about character analysis and queerness and a whole bunch of other things that were related (I also mentioned needing more disability rep, too).  I was back there for at least 2 hours.
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deancasbigbang · 3 years
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Title: The Birds and the Ts
Author: DoctorProfessorSong / you-cant-spell-subtext-without (team)
Artist: Jay
Rating: Explicit
Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Endverse Castiel/Dean Smith, Twitter Intern (OC based on Reese from Just my Imagination ep. 11x8)/Tumblr Staff (OC based on Harper Sayles from Optimism ep. 14x6); Sam Winchester/Eileen, Rowena McLeod/Bela Talbot (background), Castiel/OC (brief); Castiel/Mick Davies (references only), Castiel/multipartners (references only).
Length: 120000
Warnings: No major archive warnings apply. Drugs and alcohol as a coping mechanism, disordered eating, anxiety attacks, vomiting in one scene, death mention (of OC character and one canon-compliant death mention), homophobia/biphobia mentions.
Tags: angst with a happy ending, AU our world without COVID, crack taken seriously, Destiel is canon, exhibitionism, Season 16/post-finale chaos, so much meta goodness, sex with your ex, flashbacks to established relationship.
Posting Date: October 27, 2021
Summary: Dean Smith is a workaholic, buried alive in his career as a high-ranking corporate executive at Twitter. Cas Novak largely avoids his obligations at Tumblr, preferring instead to focus on his own carnal and chemical pursuits. When Destiel goes canon and throws both sites into disarray, Dean’s intern, Reese, and Cas's assistant, Harper, find themselves fed up trying to balance the chaos with their two bosses' inconvenient lifestyles. But a conversation with Cas's bestie, Meg, gives them an idea. What if they set their bosses up?  Maybe their opposing worldviews will balance out and there will finally be peace. What they don't know is that the men are such a mess because they are both mourning a break-up. With each other. Will these two dumbasses use their words and realize they are the perfect endgame? And what of the budding relationship between Harper and Reese? Two love stories in one, all signed, sealed, and delivered as a love letter to the fans riding out this unparalleled media experience.
Excerpt: “Fuck, this is so goddamned stupid.  Listen, I swear I’m fine. Okay? I just - haven’t been in the same room with him. Since.” Dean rubs his face in his hands, embarrassed by even this small admission.   “Have you tried talking to him?” Charlie prods. “I mean really talking to him. You two had something special.”  She pauses, glancing back toward the bar where Cas is licking a line of salt from his forearm.   Charlie regards the spectacle wisely, then shrugs at Dean. “Pretty clear neither of you is over it.”   Dean shakes his head derisively. “He doesn't care. He never cared, Charlie.”   Charlie tilts her head. “You think he’s pounding the tequila because it’s fun? He’s looked over here between every shot just to make sure you’re still watching the performance.”   Dean’s eyes swivel back towards Cas to find twin blue pools reflecting his gaze. Cas quickly looks away, gulping down another swallow of liquor.   Dean’s suddenly exhausted. Enough.   “Nah. It’s over, Charlie.” The bands around his chest constrict. He takes a few breaths. Charlie’s hand is on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze “You’re a dumbass, Dean Smith, but I love you.” “I know.” Dean teases back, a small smile tugging at his mouth. \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ Harper isn't understanding. Reese frowns, searching for the words to clarify. "Okay, so get this. You complain Cas is too disorganized and chaotic, right?"   Harper nods slowly.   Okay, they’re getting warmer. Good.   Reese takes a long pull of her wine, making a smacking sound in satisfaction at the end. "Right!" She exclaims triumphantly. "And I complain that Dean needs to chill the fuck out."   Harper hums in agreement, smiling behind her glass. The quick upward tick of her lips makes Reese’s heart stutter and, for a moment, her mind goes blank.   Where was she? Right.   "So, what if we set them up? We, like, Parent Trap them."   Harper’s head tilts, her eyes narrowing with confusion. "Reese, I don't think that your memory of that movie is quite accurate."   Reese throws her hands up dramatically. “Okay, fine - we Cyrano de Bergerac them, then.”   Harper raises an eyebrow. “Name-dropping the classics?  Color me impressed.”   Reese rolls her eyes.  "What? I read. Anyway, you know what I mean. If they're happy, we're happy. No more late nights because Dean has no life. No more office orgies and all-night ragers because Cas is...well, Cas."   Reese does triumphant jazz hands that say look at me, I'm a genius.   Harper’s grin is back, and it’s fucking sunshine after a freak summer rainstorm. Reese feels a tiny thrill in her chest.   "Reese, that is absolutely ridiculous. You know that, right?"  Amusement laces Harper’s voice despite her intended cautious syllables.   She pauses.  Reese waits, drumming her fingertips impatiently on the glass. "I mean, we're absolutely gonna do it though." Harper says conspiratorially.
DCBB 2021 Posting Schedule
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nerdzzone · 3 years
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Only For A Moment: October + November [part one]
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Summary: A series of shorter one shots from Chris and Whitney’s life together throughout the pandemic. Some happy times, some harder times, some fluff and some things a little more sexy - they work through it all as they try to get settled in their new and blossoming relationship.
Chris Evans x OFC
18+
Part of the Once Bitten/More Hearts series
Only For A Moment: September
Note: I was originally going to post this as one longer one shot, but I’ve split it into two. I haven’t finished writing the last part of the series yet and I’ve had a really bad and busy week so I haven’t had much time to work on it. It’s planned out, I just need to write it, but posting November as two parts gives me more time to finish it.
Thank you to everyone who has read and commented on this story. The support has been amazing!
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October 2020
"Hey," I greeted Chris as I poked my head around the door of his office. "Are you busy? Can I talk to you for a sec?"
He put down the script he was reading - something for a project he'd be starting as soon as the pandemic allowed - and nodded his head.
"Sure, what's up?"
I moved into the room, feeling strangely nervous about what I was about to ask.
"How would you feel," I started. "About me going to New York for a weekend for work?"
He raised his eyebrows, seemingly surprised by my inquiry and I rushed to assure him a bit more.
"They sent all the protocols that would be followed along with the job offer and it seems like it would be as safe as it possibly could be these days and I would drive up, not fly, so that would cut down on the chance of exposure a bit too," I assured him. "But I know that there's always a risk at the moment and it affects you and Gray too so I won't go if you're at all concerned."
Chris was smiling by the time I finished my long explanation and I felt a glimmer of hope that he wouldn't shoot down the idea immediately. I missed working and while Chris at least had 'A Starting Point' to focus on and various scripts to read through, I'd been completely out of work for months and I was ready to get back into it.
"Whitney, you don't need to convince me," he assured me. "I trust you. If you think it's safe and you want to do it then go for it."
"Okay, thank you," I let out a breath of relief. "I really do want to do it. I miss working."
"I know what you mean," he agreed. "What's the project?"
I couldn't hold back my grin as I answered that question.
"I get to go hang out with your friends," I informed him. "It's a promo shoot for Sebastian and Mackie's new show."
"Aw, man! That's great," Chris laughed. "Would you mind if I tagged along? I won't get in the way, I'll stay out of the photo shoot, but it would be nice to have a change of scenery."
"You wouldn't be allowed to come to the photo shoot at all," I warned him. "That was part of the protocol - no guests - and I don't know how many places are open there right now, there might not be much for you to do."
"I can keep myself entertained," he shrugged before flashing me a smirk. "We can leave Grayson with my mom, it'll be nice to have an adults only weekend."
"That would be nice," I agreed, matching his smirk as I followed his train of thought. We did fairly well making sure we got some quality time together, but we had to be quiet and quick and we always had the threat of Grayson interrupting in the back of our minds. "It's just a one day shoot so we'd have the Sunday together too."
"That's great," Chris grinned. "It'll be nice to get away."
"It will," I agreed, walking around his desk to lean down and capture his lips in a kiss. "Our first romantic getaway."
He slid his arm around my hips to keep me close as he smiled up at me.
"I can't wait."
-
November 2020
Leaving Grayson was harder than I anticipated. Considering I used to leave him with Chris every other week, I thought leaving him for a weekend would be easy, but I was a weepy mess. I held it together in front of Grayson so that he didn't get upset too - even though he was completely unbothered as he skipped off into Lisa's house - but once we got in the car, I let a few tears slip.
Of course, Chris teased me about it, but there was something in the way that he slipped his hand in mine and squeezed it reassuringly that told me he was feeling it too. We’d all adjusted to our new normal and Chris and I had really embraced having Gray by our side all the time so while two days was not a ridiculous amount of time to be apart, it felt like a momentous occasion. However, after giving ourselves a few minutes to wallow in the sadness, we agreed to do our best to push those feelings aside. We deserved a weekend away. No matter how much we loved him, parenting twenty-four/seven for almost ten months was hard work especially while trying to build our new relationship.
By the time we arrived in Manhattan in the early evening, our melancholy mood had shifted. The drive, spent playing silly little car games like ‘I Spy’ and singing cheesy duets, had put us in a wonderful mood and kicked off our weekend nicely. It was a fairly long drive though so I let Chris check in while I scampered off to use the restroom in the lobby. He had the keys by the time I found him again and when we got up the room, I was shocked. It was a fancy hotel - Marvel did tend to be quite generous when it came to accommodations - but it wasn't until we walked into the room that I realized we had the penthouse suite.
"Holy shit," I gasped, looking around at the luxurious space and amazing view out over Central Park. "This has to be a mistake, there's no way Marvel would pay for this!"
"No, they wouldn't," Chris smirked as he dropped our bags and moved over to the bottle of champagne that was already chilling in an ice bucket. "But I would."
"What?" I giggled. "What are you talking about? We already had a reservation booked in my name."
"Yeah, and I upgraded it," he grinned. "I just paid the difference between the room Marvel booked and this one."
He popped the champagne and poured it for us before coming to join me at the window and handing me a glass.
"You didn't have to do that, Chris. This is a pretty nice hotel, I'm sure whatever room they booked would have been fine."
"Oh yeah, it would have been fine," he shrugged. "But fine isn't what I'm aiming for this weekend and since we can't do much outside of this hotel anyway, the least I can do is make sure we have a good room."
I was looking forward to getting back to work, but suddenly I wished that I didn't have to as the idea of a romantic weekend hidden away in our gorgeous suite seemed like the best thing in the world. But, I knew we wouldn't have come without an excuse, so I tried to focus on being grateful for the time that we did have together.
Slipping my arm around his waist and stretching up on my toes, I pulled him in for a kiss, trying to convey my gratitude and excitement for the weekend.
"Well, I can think of several things we can do in this room that will keep us very busy," I teased once our lips parted again. "We better get started now or we might run out of time..."
Chris chuckled as he took a sip of his champagne, but shook his head.
"Not yet, Winnie," he denied me, despite his raspy voice. "Why don't you take that champagne and run yourself a nice bath while I order us some room service?"
I felt a frown slide onto my face and I would have been embarrassed at my childish pout had I not been so confused about him turning me down.
"Why?" I asked. "I would have thought you'd be raring to go now that we can finally enjoy ourselves with no interruptions..."
"I am but I want to enjoy it,” Chris informed me, leaning down to nip at my neck before letting his lips hover next to my ear. "I want you relaxed and well-fed so I can take my time while I make you scream my name over and over and over."
His low voice sent shivers down my spine as his plan for the night sent a wave of arousal through me. My mouth suddenly felt dry and my brain forgot how to make words as I choked out an 'okay' and took myself off to the bathroom to do as he'd instructed.
-
When I wandered out into the living room area of our suite almost forty-five minutes later, I was thoroughly relaxed. Wrapped in a very fluffy white bathrobe that was at least two sizes too big for me, I announced my entrance with a contented sigh. Chris looked up at the sound and let out a laugh.
"What?" I giggled, striking a pose as I had a good idea what he found amusing. "They only had one size."
"You look adorable," he grinned at me. "C'mere, let me top up your drink."
I did as he asked, walking over to where he was sitting and noticed the cart full of food that was next to him. He'd ordered my favourite - mac 'n' cheese - and I felt a rush of love for him when I saw it. A lot of people had teased me over the years, insisting that it was more of a child's dish - something not refined enough for an adult’s palate - but it had always been one of my top choices and I was touched that he'd remembered.
He'd ordered a steak for himself and we both eagerly tucked into our meals, eating until we were almost painfully full and just barely saving enough room for the peanut butter cheesecake that he'd ordered for dessert. That was another favourite of mine and I got a stern warning from Chris - as I moaned through every mouthful - that I needed to control myself until we'd had a chance to digest our large meal. I bit back a smirk, almost tempted to continue my noises of pleasure just to antagonize him, but I reluctantly decided to behave.
After we ate, we curled up on the couch with something meaningless on the TV as we recovered from the large meal. We were half-watching it, half just basking in the contentment of our full stomachs until Chris eventually decided that we'd waited long enough.
My feet were draped over his lap as we lounged and I felt his hands slowly move from lazy stroking the tops of my feet to higher up my ankle. At first, I didn't pay much attention as I mindlessly scrolled through my phone, but as his hand trailed higher up my leg, his intentions became more clear. I fought to keep a straight face as I continued to ignore him even as his hand slid up to my knee. He kept it there for a few moments, rubbing his thumb against my skin, but he quickly lost his patience as I continued playing it cool. Letting out a soft growl, he returned his hands to my feet and with a swift tug, he moved me down the couch.
"Chris!" I giggled as my head slipped from the arm of the couch onto the cushion where my bum had been moments before. "What are you doing?"
"You were ignoring me," he smirked. "So, I took matters into my own hands."
"Maybe I was reading something important," I teased. "You're so rude."
He pulled again, moving my hips up onto his lap.
"I'm rude? We're on a romantic getaway and you're starin’ at your phone."
"Well, maybe you weren't being very interesting."
He chuckled at that, but shook his head.
"You're such a brat," he scolded. "Maybe I should just flip you over and teach you a lesson."
He moved a hand down and pinched my bum to emphasize his point and I gasped as a wave of intrigue flooded through me. Using the back of the couch for leverage, I pulled myself up until I was sitting on his lap, but the positioning was a bit awkward so I shifted and straddled him instead.
"I'm not sure if a spanking from you would be much of a punishment..."
My words made his eyes darken as his hands rubbed up and down my thighs.
"Oh, really?" He questioned and I nodded with a smile. "Well, that is very interesting information to have."
"I'm surprised you haven't brought it up before," I teased. "Since you're such an ass man."
"Shut up," Chris chuckled before forcing me to do so by pressing my lips against his.
It started off as a sweet, playful kiss, but the mood of anticipation between us quickly transitioned it into something more.
His hands moved from my thighs up to my hips as I let mine slide behind him - one rubbing the soft hairs on his neck as the other held the back of his head, keeping it firmly against my own. Our lips parted, letting our tongues bump and glide against each other and I felt a fire started to burn inside of me already.
Our position and the fact that I was wearing nothing, but a bathrobe meant that there was nothing between us other than Chris' jeans. I was pressed bare against him which became apparent when he used his firm grip to pull me even closer towards him. A gasp fell from my lips at the friction the denim caused and Chris pulled back to grin at me.
"Does that feel good?" He pressed my hips forward again as he asked the question and my eyes fluttered shut as I nodded. "Then keep going."
He titled his chin to capture my lips in another kiss as he loosened his grip on me, but his instructions had been clear. Taking matters into my own hands, I started rocking my hips slowly against his enjoying the sparks I felt every time I rubbed against him. I could feel him harden, the bulge underneath me growing bigger with every pass of my hips, and the feeling had me moaning into his mouth. I almost stood up - I almost pulled myself off of his lap and dragged him to the bedroom as my body craved him and wanted him inside me - but I remembered what he'd said. He wanted to wait, to take it slow and savour the experience so, with a smirk to myself, I continued my actions with the knowledge of his growing arousal only adding to my pleasure.
As if Chris could read my mind or feel my misguided sense of control, he tightened his grip again and pressed me even harder against him. I moaned at the sensation, pulling my mouth from his as my head fell backwards. I tried to find something to focus on, something to help me regain a morsel of self-control, but nothing in the room could distract from the pressure that was building quickly as the rough material dragged against my clit. A part of me was embarrassed to be rubbing myself against him like this, but with each thrust of my hips, a much bigger part of me grew too desperate to care.
Taking advantage of my exposed neck, Chris latched his lips onto the skin, nipping and sucking gently before tracing kisses up until his mouth was beside my ear.
"You're almost there, aren't you?" His voice was low and the way my fingers dug into the back of his neck was all the answer I could muster as his hands forced my body to keep up the steady rhythm. "I bet you're almost soakin’ right through my pants. You're so needy. Go on, Winnie, take what you want."
A whimper fell from my lips as his words sent shivers down my spine. My movements, supported by his hands, became even more frantic as I felt my release building to a peak and after a few more shifts against him, I let out a strangled moan as I crashed over the edge.
Chris continued his mumbled words of encouragement as his hands continued to force me to move until I melted against him and let my head flop onto his shoulder. My breath against his neck drew goosebumps up on his skin and I placed a soft kiss on them as I fought to control my breathing.
"How're you feeling?"
I sighed softly in response to Chris' question, fighting to make my brain function enough to form words.
"Wonderful," I purred into his ear after taking a moment to compose myself. "But I'm really dying to have you inside me..."
Without another word, Chris used his grip on my hips to lift me off his lap and onto my feet. My legs felt shaky from the strength of my recent orgasm, but they held me up as I stared down at Chris, a bit stunned by the fast movement. He looked up at me for a brief moment before raising an eyebrow and nodding his head towards our bedroom.
"Do you need me to carry you?" He questioned, his tone laced with sarcasm as he clearly noticed the quiver in my legs. "Or can you walk?"
I giggled and playfully rolled my eyes, but turned towards the bedroom. Trying to regain some semblance of power in the situation, I undid the robe that was still tied around my waist and let it fall to the floor. The action left me completely naked as I walked away and I heard a growl of approval from Chris followed by the sound of him jumping to his feet behind me. I scampered off with him hot on my heels, but he caught me in his grasp when I was a few feet past our bedroom door.
He easily lifted me off the ground and I let out a squeal as he tossed me onto the bed.
"Wow," I giggled as I flopped onto my back, leaning up on my elbows to look at him. "That was a graceful landing, real sexy."
Chris smirked as he pulled his shirt over his head.
"You're always sexy," he insisted, moving to the bed and crawling over me. "I can't get enough of you."
Before I could respond, his mouth was back on mine. I smiled against his lips and took a moment to run my hands over his toned muscles, but quickly moved them down to the belt on his jeans as I was eager to get things moving. Almost immediately, he pulled away with that damn smirk still on his face.
"Not so fast," he warned. "I said we were going to take our time."
"We already did," I whined. "Please, Chris, I want you so bad."
He dipped his head and kissed along my jaw until his lips hovered by my ear.
"And you'll have me," he assured me. "Eventually."
I let out a groan of frustration, but as he trailed his kisses lower until they reached my chest, the groan became one of pleasure. A hand slid up my side until it was level with his head and while his mouth captured one nipple, his fingers pinched the other. I gasped and arched my back up towards him, desperate to be as close to him as possible.
His actions started off soft. His fingers and lips worked in a gentle, almost teasing way that had me almost ready to whine for more, but just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, he increased the pressure. His fingers pinched and tweaked one as he nipped the other and the sensation had my hips pressing up against him almost of their own volition. He chuckled as I lifted a leg to hook it over his hip, pulling him down in an attempt to find any friction as he moved to rest his chin between my breasts.
"You're so impatient," he teased. "I'm not gonna fuck you yet."
His voice was thick and rough from his own aroused state and it only made me more desperate.
"Please, Chris..." I whined. "Why not?"
Chris let his teeth graze against my skin briefly before moving further down my body, my question apparently going unanswered. He kissed his way over my stomach, an affectionate smile appearing on his face as he watched the muscles under his mouth quiver and twitch from his actions. It appeared he was intent on taking his sweet time and I really was about to start begging again when he finally settled between my thighs, pulling my legs to rest over his shoulders.
A snarky comment about him taking so long was on the tip of my tongue, but any attitude I was feeling disappeared as he pressed his tongue against me, licking upwards until he settled against my clit. I couldn't hold back the moans and gasps that poured from my lips from the sensation and for a moment, I worried I was being too loud. However, from the way Chris' fingers dug into my ass to lift me higher against his mouth, he seemed to find it encouraging.
He was focused and determined, his lazy mood from moments earlier seemingly gone and I wasn't complaining as I was already practically dripping on to the bed with need. He knew my body almost better than I did and the way his lips were locked on just the right spot, sucking with just the right pressure was driving me wild.
In a few mere minutes, I was already teetering on the edge, but when I gasped out a warning to Chris, he instantly pulled away.
I lifted my head as I let out a growl and scowled down at him - the cocky smirk on his face only adding to my annoyance.
"What the hell, Chris," I huffed. "Keep going!"
He kissed my thigh as I felt an almost painful ache between my legs.
"Patience, Winnie," he warned me. "You need a lesson in patience."
The overwhelming feeling I felt in response to that comment was frustration, but there was a hint of intrigue as well. I was at his mercy, being teased and toyed with until he decided otherwise and I'd be lying if that knowledge didn't turn me on even more.
"Do you-" I gasped as he blew against the wet place his mouth had been moments before. "Do you want me to beg?"
"It wouldn't hurt," he grinned. "But there is something appealing about the thought of seeing how long I can keep you like this..."
That idea filled me with dread. As enticing as my helplessness in this scenario was, the thought of it lasting more than a few minutes seemed painfully cruel.
"No, please don't," I pleaded. "Please touch me, Chris. Please, please. I need it so bad."
He groaned, letting his forehead rest against my thigh for a moment before looking up to meet my eyes.
"The way you say my name when you're like this drives me crazy."
He moved his hand to flick his thumb over my clit and his name fell from my lips again as a desperate whimper. That seemed to be all he needed to hear as he quickly attached his mouth back to that sweet spot.
Instantly, my hands shot to grip his head as mine fell back against the pillows. He held down my hips that were pushing up towards him, desperate to increase the friction, but it didn't matter. I was so close already, so worked up from his previous actions, that it took no time at all for the pressure he'd built up inside me to boil over as I finally found my release.
As always, he coaxed me through it, only moving back when he was sure my orgasm had faded. By the time it was done, my chest was heaving and Chris dragged himself off the bed, giving me a moment to catch my breath as he rid himself of his jeans and boxers. I smiled at the sight, but I was in a daze. My whole body felt like jelly from the two amazing orgasms I'd just received, but that didn't stop me from the moment of clarity that hit just as he was climbing back over me.
"Wait! Condom."
Chris cursed under his breath before hopping off the bed and quickly rifling through his bag. He found one - which I knew he would as I'd reminded him several times to pack them so we wouldn’t be caught without them in a moment like this - and returned to the bed.
"Hurry," I panted. "I need you."
A quiet growl rumbled from Chris' chest as he quickly tore open the condom wrapper and put it on. I was still sensitive from our previous activities, but as soon as he was on top of me again, I was pressing up towards him. He filled me with an almost insatiable need and it seemed his patience was also thin after being so hard for so long as he slid inside me with impressive speed.
I groaned from the sensation of him filling me so quickly, but any discomfort quickly shifted into pleasure as he rocked his hips against mine. My fingers dug into his shoulders as my legs wrapped around his waist pulling him closer as he quickly established a steady rhythm. As much as he wanted to take his time, his restraint was clearly waning as he kept up a vigorous pace. My over sensitive state and his purposefully angled thrusts, hitting all the right nerves with just the right pressure, had me writing beneath him as I basked in the sensation.
Chris was always rather vocal, but as his moans, grunts and whispers of filthy commentary grew louder and more unrestrained it became clear that he was also edging closer and closer to his peak. His hips snapped with more ferocity and all I could do was hold onto him tightly, giving him all the control and riding the waves of pleasure he was causing.
“I’m close,” he groaned, his voice strained as his breath hit my neck.
Unable to form words, I made a noise that I hoped would convey my agreement and his movements seemed to become even more pointed and more deliberate. With every thrust, he made sure to rub against every sensitive spot inside me and moments later, I felt my release hit me. It felt like every muscle in my body tensed as I quivered and clenched around him, a sound leaving my mouth that was so lustful and unrestrained that I could hardly believe it was coming from me. He gasped out a moan of his own from the sensation of me coming around him and quickened his pace through my orgasm until eventually he stilled, the sound of his pleasure echoing through my ears.
Once we had both recovered, Chris rolled off of me, pulling the condom off and disposing of it in the garbage can next to the bed before he settled on his back, chest heaving from exertion.
I let out a happy sigh as I curled into his side and his arm wrapped around me, pulling me close.
"That was amazing," I smiled, placing a kiss against his chest.
He chuckled, squeezing me even tighter as he answered.
"See? Patience. It makes everything better."
I nipped at the skin underneath my mouth.
"Shut up."
He leaned down to place a kiss on the top of my head and I smiled.
"I love you," he practically whispered in the darkness. "I'm so glad we get this weekend together."
"Me too," I agreed. "I love you too."
He squeezed me closer again as we laid there curled up in each other, basking in our post-orgasmic glow.
No one had ever made me feel the way that Chris did. I’d never felt as safe with anyone, I’d never felt so able to let my guard down, and the physical aspect of our relationship clearly benefited greatly from the closeness that we shared. It was an amazing feeling to know that we were so in tune with each other and that there was so much room to explore the things that made us feel good and, despite being fully satisfied for the time being, I couldn't help but let my mind wander to other things I would be interested in delving into as I drifted off to sleep.
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November [part two]
Tags:  @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces @firoozehmoon @patzammit @sparkledfirecracker @mytbel0st @chvntelle-99 @mjey12
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feelingofcontent · 3 years
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DNP Rewatch: A Tour of Dan's Brain
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Date video was published: 12/06/2014 (X)
DNP Main Channel Rewatch: 252
As Dan says in the description, “Thanks to AmazingPhil for the inspired idea”! Phil had posted his Tour Of My Brain video back in October.
Dan actually filmed this video in November, and meant to post it before I Can't Live Without My Phone, but he was struggling with the editing. He eventually finished it here in early December.
0:00 - Dan was excited about this black-on-black Tumblr shirt when he got it
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0:03 - ahahaha at him using “lolzor” (ironically, I’m sure he would say) since his 12 Year Old Dan’s Website video
0:11 - he really went the extra step with the crafting here, lol
0:17 - Phil did a lot more drawing on his brain while Dan printed and cut things out
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0:26 - lol at the empty party hats and social awkward penguin meme
0:36 - love that One Direction is front and center
0:52 - the continuation of “unbelievably censored.” too much time on disturbing parts of the internet, Dan.
1:04 - the grid and the black/white floor ends up in his aesthetic page in TABINOF too
1:20 - the socks as part of the distraction center are quite random, as Phil is usually tied to colorful socks, not Dan. Hmmm...am I reading way too much into that representing Phil as a distraction/”demon of temptation”?
1:29 - a bit of a throwback to his Fictional Friends video where he talks about escapism more
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1:48 - another old dinof video topic - ENVY
2:00 - poor Phil, lol
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2:22 - Dan mentioning his family at this point is never in a positive way 😕
2:37 - the Facebook comment threads...yep
2:47 - using the shot of the hallway from his My Greatest Fear video
2:58 - oh the piano and drama masks 😢 And the bandaged heart. I’m so glad he got back into piano at least. And now look.
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3:07 - “I try not to think about it” 😢😢
3:16 - Phil had a vortex in this Brain video too, but more about anxious thoughts
3:59 - haven’t had a sexy endscreen dance in a while!
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Dan’s video is so different than Phil’s and less surface-level in parts, as usual for their types of videos. I like both of them! This is the last video on Dan’s channel in 2014.
At the end of November ahead of this video, DNP went “mountain climbing” with friends. Phil tweeted about it (1, 2, 3) and Dan posted this series of Instagram photos (1, 2, 3).
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I believe they were at Pendle Hill in Lancashire, north of Manchester, so they must have been visiting friends up there.
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Christmas Break - Part 1
Surprise!! After a looong time away Court returns to Everlark fic world with a little holiday treat for everyone  - enjoy! :)
Hi everyone. So 2020 has sucked. For me, the beginning of quarantine was actually a bit of a gift. Being home gave me the gift of time, something I haven’t had much of as my daughters (who were very little when I started writing in this fandom) have gotten older. While I never stopped writing, it was a struggle to find long enough chunks of time to get into a flow. I started writing again with earnest. Not all of it was my fanfiction; some of it was my original work. El keeps me posted on the humbling and kind asks she gets about my writing. I felt bad that despite my increased writing, I still wasn’t ready to update any WIPs. But I did remember a story I had started for the final holiday PiP that I was never able to get past the first page (due to lack of time that year) and to my surprise, it started flowing. I had every intention of finishing it and having El post it as a gift to this fandom. But once my school went “back” in October and hybrid learning started, that was it. My time was gone. And further, my family experienced the very sudden and non-Covid-related death of my aunt. So while I have nearly half of this story written, it’s not done. But it will be, very soon, since it is a one-shot. As with all my stories, it took on a life of its own and it needs more love. So what I have for the readers who have loyally followed me is the first part, the part that involves Christmas. It’s my hope to have a second part posted in a week or two, so that by the time that part posts, a final part is nearly done. 
Thank you for your asks and your patience, and thank you to El, one of my favorite people in this world and the best thing my time in this fandom has given me. Thank you for your encouragement. Our friendship means the world to me. 
Here’s to a better 2021. Love to you all. Court
Christmas Break
Fuck, not again, Peeta grouses as the opening notes of that insidious Mariah Carey song pipe through the loudspeaker. That’s the third time in the last two hours. He’s all for holiday spirit, but if he never hears this fucking song again it will be too soon.
Leaning his forehead against the cold pane of glass, he peers out of the fourth-story window into the darkened sky. When he had arrived at work a few hours ago, the snow had just been starting to fall; a slow, lazy tumble of flakes. Now it’s coming down in a tumultuous swirl. It figures Panem would finally see a white Christmas his first Christmas Eve on rotation in the emergency room. No doubt the weather is partially to blame for the crush of bodies crowding the waiting room tonight. 
Peeta walks away from the window and opens the cabinet where he stashes his Clif bars. The economy-sized box looks suspiciously closer to empty than it did the other day. He’s heard complaints from other doctors and nurses that snacks are pilfered on a regular basis and was warned to label his own boxes. But he had forgone the warnings. If someone needed an energy bar badly enough to steal one, what was the $20 he had spent on them at Costco. He snags one and unwraps it. 
He’s just raised it to his mouth when his Apple watch pings and his silenced cell phone pulses insistently against his thigh. Heaving a loud sigh, he sets down the energy bar and withdraws the phone from his pocket. 
“Mom, you’ve got exactly 60 seconds,” he grits out. He doesn’t even need to look at the screen to confirm it’s her. She’s called twice already tonight, calls he’s ignored with good reason, but somehow his mother thinks a phone call from her trumps any actual emergencies her doctor son could be dealing with. Which, tonight, have been nonstop since his shift began at six. 
“Please tell me you ate something,” she begins. 
“I was just about to, when you called,” he replies. “I’ve only got a couple of minutes. It’s been utter chaos for the last four hours.” 
“We missed you at dinner. I can’t remember the last Christmas Eve when I didn’t have all three of my boys together.” Peeta closes his eyes. All these years my mother has been gushing about having a doctor in the family, and yet she never stopped to consider the ramifications of actually having a doctor in the family, he thinks. Particularly its impact on holiday gatherings. She obviously hadn’t learned anything from this past Thanksgiving, as now, just a month later, she’s already dumping a fresh guilt trip on him for missing another family dinner.
She continues, “And Jackson and Maxwell were just devastated when they heard you weren’t coming, until I assured them they’d see you tomorrow. We will see you tomorrow, yes?” 
Peeta suppresses another exasperated sigh and breaks off a chunk of the Clif bar. “Yes, Mom, I’ll be there.” And though it’s childish, he crams the bar into his mouth and mumbles around it, “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” His chewing masks the sarcasm that weighs down the words. 
“Excellent. We need an updated family portrait before Everly and Rye have to leave for her parents’ house.” Placated, his mother moves to ends the call, but not before getting in a less-than-subtle comment about how much she adores his brother Rye’s fiancée and how happy she is Rye is settling down. 
Staring at the disconnected call flashing on the screen, Peeta tries not to let the remark get to him. Mostly because he knows it’s a lie. His mother has complained more than once about Everly and how she’s not good enough for Rye. Peeta knows the dig was directed at him. He hasn’t truly had a serious girlfriend since junior year of college; just a few casual relationships that barely qualified as relationships. He doesn’t know how his mother expects him to meet someone with the hours he keeps. And his father, for as close as they are, never seems willing to jump to Peeta’s defense. 
Taking a deep breath to let his irritation suffuse, he jams his phone back in his pocket and scarfs down the rest of his pathetic dinner. All three bites of it. Then he uses the restroom, dutifully washes his hand, and stalks out of the staff lounge, his short break over.
As he strides up the corridor, he hears loud shouting coming from the ER waiting room. 
“…should be asleep in her bed, waiting for Santa Claus to come, but instead, we’re still here waiting for someone to take a look at her arm! It’s been over two hours! Don’t you people have any compassion? Or is Ebenezer Freaking Scrooge running this place tonight?”
Curious, Peeta veers towards the reception desk, where his eyes land on the ranting woman. She’s young, probably no older than her mid-twenties, and in spite of the fact that her dark hair is spilling out of a messy braid and she’s not wearing any makeup, Peeta is immediately struck by her beauty. The rosy flush to her cheeks from her tirade actually makes her even prettier. She’s cradling a toddler and protectively shielding the little girl’s right arm. The toddler’s blonde head rests on her mother’s shoulder, her thumb wedged into her tiny pink mouth. Her left arm clutches a stuffed orange cat. She looks tired. Actually, both mother and daughter do. 
“Miss, I understand your frustration, I really do,” the receptionist says calmly, her eyes cutting to Peeta as he stops by her side. He reads the name on the file on top of the stack, the next patient scheduled to be seen: MCMURPHY, JOSEPH. Clearly not the little girl in front of him. 
“I don’t think you do!” the young mother cries, her eyes flashing steel. “She’s three, she’s in pain, and she’s scared. And what’s more, I’ve seen at least five people go ahead of us who came in after us!” 
“That’s not how the emergency room works, miss,” the receptionist replies. She drums her fingertips on the desk, offering the young mother a tight smile. 
“It’s Christmas Eve,” the young mother adds, an edge of desperation creeping into her tone. Discreetly, Peeta moves around the receptionist’s chair, scanning the desktop until he spies the stack of files for the patients awaiting admission. While the receptionist continues to give the young mother the run-around, he thumbs through the stack, searching. His eyes land on what he’s looking for: a date of birth. His lips tip up. Bingo. This has to be it: HAWTHORNE, IVY ANN. 
At the exact second his hand snatches Ivy’s file from the pile and slips the other one in amongst the stack, the young mother’s eyes lock on his. Her gaze narrows. He can see the exhaustion all over her beautiful face. Her full lips twitch, her countenance suspicious as they stare at one another. 
“Ivy Hawthorne?” Peeta taps the file he had extricated. An immediate flicker of relief lights the young mother’s mercury eyes, and that lush mouth breaks into a grateful, relieved smile. The receptionist’s neck snaps up. “I’ve got this,” he adds, his tone leaving no room for her to argue with him. It’s not protocol for Peeta to take a patient directly, but it’s also not blatantly against the rules. Sure, it might mean a little more work for him, but if it means he can get this little girl home sooner on Christmas Eve, it’s worth it.
He smiles at the little girl. “Ivy, I’m Doctor Mellark. I’m going to help make you feel better, okay?” She nods once but doesn’t lift her head from her mother’s shoulder. Peeta’s arm sweeps to the side, ushering the young mother and Ivy past the desk. He scans the hallway and spies a partially drawn curtain halfway up the corridor. He leads them to the available partition and close the curtain behind them. As he turns to face them, he nearly slams into the woman. She hasn’t moved, and her luminous grey eyes fasten to his. She looks as if she’s going to say something, but several seconds pass and she’s still quiet, still watching him. The silence starts to become uncomfortable. Peeta clears his throat.  
“If you’d have a seat, please, Mrs. Hawthorne. You can hold her while I get some more information from you.” 
The young woman’s lips part slightly, again appearing as if she wants to say something, but instead she shuffles forward and Peeta waits while she settles on the edge of the hospital bed, gingerly adjusting Ivy so she’s sitting sideways across her mother’s lap. 
Peeta sinks down onto the stool and scoots towards the edge of the bed. This close he has a much better look at Ivy’s mother. She really is a beautiful young woman, and given how adorable Ivy is Peeta assumes her husband is probably also very attractive. He feels a twinge of jealousy. Lucky bastard. Pretty wife, cute kid…probably has a nice little house and a golden retriever too. Living the dream. His dream, if he allows himself to admit it to anyone but his mother. If he was being perfectly honest, he had always envisioned himself married by now. 
“How old are you, Ivy?” he ask, even though he knows from her chart and her mother’s declaration that she’s three years old. She hesitates, and still clutching the stuffed cat, manages to display three fingers. Peeta smiles at her again.
“I have a nephew who is the exact same age as you are. He told me just last week that he’s a big boy now. Are you a big girl, Ivy?” He keeps his tone gentle, hoping it will put her at ease with him. She nods, her big blue eyes lightening imperceptibly. “I thought so. Can you be a big girl and tell me what happened to your arm?” 
Her mother answers automatically, “She fell. I was only gone—” Peeta holds up his palm. He has the triage nurse’s initial assessment, so he knows Ivy’s arm is likely broken. What he doesn’t know is how the arm got broken. And those details he needs to try to get from Ivy herself. Kids her age always tell the truth when it comes to how they were injured, and unfortunately it’s part of Peeta’s job to make sure there isn’t a more sinister reason she’s in the E.R. tonight, no matter how sweet and innocent her mother appears. He’s already had a few encounters with suspected child abuse, though his gut tells him that isn’t the case with Ivy Hawthorne.
“Please. I would like Ivy to tell me how it happened.” 
Something dangerous flints in Ivy’s mother’s now stormy grey eyes.
“She. Fell.” The words are curt, enunciated coolly, but her voice is soft and Peeta can tell she’s keeping her temper in check for the benefit of her daughter. Eyes still pinned to his, she inhales deeply. A second later, her shoulders relax. “Go ahead and tell the nice doctor how you hurt your arm,” she whispers, stroking Ivy’s curls. 
“I was trying to see Santa,” Ivy replies, her tongue tripping in a lisp on the “S’s.” 
“What do you mean by that?” he prompts her. 
Ivy scrunches up her button nose. “I was trying to see up the chimney. ‘Cause the chimney at Aunt Katniss’s house is so skinny and Santa Claus is real fat and I don’t know how he’s gonna fit down it to bring me my presents!” Her blue eyes brim with tears and her lower lip starts to tremble. Peeta reaches over and pats her knee. 
“I wouldn’t worry about that, sweetheart. Santa Claus is magic. He’ll get you your presents, no matter what the chimney looks like.” He exchanges a look with her mother. 
“It was all my fault,” she says quietly. “I went in the kitchen, to get the cookies and milk—”
“And the carrots! For Rudolph and the other reindeer!” Ivy chimes in, her eyes shiny wet. 
“I never should have left her alone, not even for a second. This is my fault. It’s my fault. She wouldn’t have slipped and fallen off the hearth if I had been watching her.” Guilt chokes her words, and it sounds as if she’s close to tears. 
“Accidents happen, Mrs. Hawthorne,” Peeta says empathetically, “that’s why there are emergency rooms.” She presses her lips together, her brows knitting.  
“It’s Everdeen,” she says quietly. Peeta drops his eyes to Ivy’s chart, and furrows his brows, his gaze wandering to the young woman’s left hand. No ring. A brief thrill curls through him at the thought that she’s single. Asshole, he immediately chides himself. So not what you should be thinking about right now. He scans the chart more carefully and shakes his head.
“I’m sorry,” he begins, “but this lists Primrose Hawthorne as the mother, under the Parent/Guardian information, and a Rory Hawthorne as the father. I just assumed—”
She cuts him off. “Primrose Hawthorne was her mother. But I’m not Primrose Hawthorne. I’m Katniss. Katniss Everdeen. I’m her aunt. I should be listed as her primary emergency contact.” She swallows and squeezes her eyes shut briefly. When she opens them, they plead with his. Peeta glances down at Ivy, and then raises his eyes to Katniss again. The guilt that was clouding those silver irises a moment ago has dissipated, replaced with anguish. He doesn’t know what the full story is here, but he didn’t miss Katniss’s usage of the past tense in referring to Ivy’s mother. So he honors her silent appeal not to ask questions.
“Okay, Ivy, you fell, and you landed on your arm? I bet that hurt,” Peeta says to the little girl, but his gaze stays fastens on Katniss. She gives him the faintest smile and mouths, “Thank you.”
~*~*~*~
An hour later, the orthopedist informs Peeta that Ivy Hawthorne is ready for his approval to be discharged. Not wanting to keep her and her aunt waiting any later than necessary, he sets down the X-ray he had been studying, and heads back to where Ivy is. 
Standing outside the curtain, he hears quiet singing. He draws back the curtain and sees Katniss seated on the bed, with Ivy nestled in her lap. A bright pink cast safely cocoons the girl’s arm. Her blonde head rests on Katniss’s shoulder. Her eyes are closed, and her little body rises and falls with the deep breathing of sleep. 
Katniss continues to sing, unaware of Peeta’s presence. He doesn’t recognize the tune she’s singing. It’s not a Christmas carol, at least not one he’s ever heard before, but he continues to listen, captivated by her voice. It’s soft and decidedly feminine, but there’s raspy undercurrent to it that gives him chills. It’s like the first sip of a rich, smoky bourbon.
Gingerly, he tiptoes towards the bed and stands before her for several more minutes, until Katniss finally lifts her eyes. She immediately stops singing. Peeta smiles and nods towards Ivy.
“Someone is worn out,” he whispers. Katniss’s lips twitch into a chagrinned smile. 
“I’m sure the second we get home she’ll be wide awake and it’ll take forever to get her into bed. She was already amped up about Santa Claus before this.” She tips her head and gestures with her chin towards Ivy’s arm. 
“Warm milk. With a little bit of cinnamon,” he suggests. 
“Really?” Her eyes round. “Cinnamon? That really works?” Disbelief clouds her words. He shrugs sheepishly.
“I have no idea. No kids. And I’ve never had much trouble sleeping. I’m usually asleep the minute my head hits the pillow. But I’ve heard from a friend with a toddler that it does the trick.” He waits for her to say something—anything—in response, but she doesn’t. Her gaze is back on the sleeping toddler in her arms. 
Watching her stare tenderly at her niece causes something unexpected to claw at Peeta’s chest and he’s overwhelmed by a fierce compulsion to want to keep her here, to get to know more about her. It’s been a long time since he felt this kind of instant attraction to a woman. Why couldn’t he have met her under different circumstances? 
“Are we all done, doctor?” 
Peeta startles from his thoughts and offers Katniss an apologetic smile.
“Yes, sorry. You are good to go as soon as you sign here—” He holds the clipboard at an angle, to allow her to sign without having to disturb Ivy, “and here.” He flips the sheet back to the second page and she scrawls her name across the line there, too. Normally a nurse would go over discharge papers and protocol with patients, but Peeta had taken it upon himself to grab Ivy’s. He needed to spend every possible minute in Katniss’s presence. 
Once the release forms are complete, he review the plan for Ivy’s follow-up care, including how to manage any pain she has and when she’ll need to return to have the cast removed. Katniss listens attentively. 
When he’s finished, she stands up slowly, her movements tentative so as not to jostle Ivy. A sigh parts the little girl’s lips and she stirs, but she remains asleep. God, she’s cute, Peeta thinks. 
“Thank you, Dr. Mellark,” Katniss says softly. “For everything. I know what you did…” She falters. “I mean, I know we, ah, weren’t next, and ah…” Peeta waves a hand dismissively, sensing her discomfort with his hijacking of the queued patients.  
“It was my pleasure,” he replies. “Little girls should be home on Christmas Eve. Waiting for Santa.” He echoes Katniss’s earlier words. “I hope he’s good to her.” 
He doesn’t miss the forlorn expression that flits across Katniss’s face as she glances down at her sleeping niece. 
“He can’t bring her what she wants most, but he’ll try,” she murmurs and moves towards the open curtain. Just before she steps out into the hall, she pauses and turns to face Peeta.
“Merry Christmas,” she adds.  
“Merry Christmas,” he concurs. With a faint smile, she steps around the curtain. It rustles in her wake and resettles. Peeta exhales and slumps against the wall, regret washing through him, followed by a stronger wave of sadness at seeing Katniss go. If it hadn’t been for Ivy, he might have concocted some kind of delay to keep Katniss here longer, found some excuse to pry more information out of her. Like if she’s single. A surge of adrenaline spikes in his blood. He can’t let her go this easily.
He bolts out into the corridor, scanning the bustling hallway for any sign of Katniss and Ivy, but they’ve vanished. Disappointed, his shoulders slump as he trudges towards the nurses’ station to hand off Ivy’s file. 
It’s probably best, a nagging little voice inside him taunts, and he reluctantly concedes that it probably is. As much as he’d love to finally shut his mother up and find a woman that he’d want to spend more than a night with, it’s not fair to subject one to the kind of schedule he has to keep. New doctors are low-man-on-the-totem-pole. He’s had mostly graveyard shifts and he’s often on call. It’s his dream to have a pediatric practice, but he’s well aware that he’ll have to toil for a couple of years to get on track to make that dream a reality. 
A few minutes later, en route to his next examination, Peeta spies Johanna, one of the triage nurses, coming out of the room Ivy had occupied. His eyes immediately narrow when his gaze lands on her left arm.
“Was that in there?” He motions towards the vacated room and then nods towards the stuffed cat Johanna has wedged under her armpit. 
“What, the cat? Yeah. It must have fallen under the bed. I’ll take it to the station, in case someone comes back to claim it.” 
Ivy’s cherubic little face flashes in Peeta’s mind. He remember how fiercely she had been clutching that cat, and how she had reluctantly agreed to put it down when it had been time for Delly, another one of the triage nurses, to take her for X-rays. 
Peeta’s pulse quickens and he immediately thrusts his hand towards Johanna. “I’ll take it,” he says impulsively. She wrinkles her nose and cocks her head, her hazel eyes intensely scrutinizing him. Though they have a casual friendship, Johanna is far too insightful for her own good. Peeta doesn’t really need her questioning his motives for taking possession of the toy. 
“The little girl it belongs to goes to preschool with Max. I’ll make sure he takes it to her after the holiday break.” Fuck, that lie flew off his tongue so easily he almost believes it himself. Johanna shrugs and tosses Peeta the cat. 
“Suit yourself. One less thing to overflow the Lost and Found.” She strides past him and disappears into Triage 6. He stares down at the stuffed animal. His heart skips another beat and a slow smile tugs at his mouth. 
~*~*~*~
Stifling another yawn, Peeta squints at the numbers above the garage. He’s definitely in the right place. He kills the engine and sits for a moment, glancing at the clock on the navigation system. It’s quarter after nine. Early, but not obscenely so. When his shift had ended at six am, he had driven home and fought the urge to crawl into bed; instead, he grabbed a quick shower and freshened up. True, part of him hadn’t wanted to see Katniss Everdeen again looking like the bedraggled, exhausted mess he was at the end of a rotation, and also true, he was going to have to clean up before he’s due at his parents’ house at one. But he also knew he couldn’t really have shown up at Katniss’s house at the crack of dawn on Christmas morning, even if he suspects Ivy likely had her up by then. He recalls, with a wistful smile, that Christmas morning was the one morning he and his brothers were always awake before his father. It was only a question of which Mellark brother was going to be the first to rouse the others. Him being the youngest, it was usually him, he admits with a wider grin.
He quietly exits his car, careful not to slam the door, and gingerly steps across the icy driveway. He pauses at the un-shoveled front walk, where a pristine blanket of snow blocks his path. “Shit,” he whispers, gritting his teeth as he takes the first step. His foot plunges into the deep drift, up to nearly his calf. He braces himself and takes a huge step, hoping to eat up the distance in a few long strides. Fortunately, it’s not a long front walk. He reaches the also un-shoveled front steps and carefully ascends them. He contemplates ringing the doorbell, but instead raps his knuckles against the door. His breath pipes out in white plumes and he rubs his palms together for warmth as he waits. 
No one comes to the door, at least not immediately. Peeta lifts his fist again, but just before his knuckles can connect with the wood again, the front door opens a crack and he’s suddenly looking at Katniss. Those silver eyes round almost comically as recognition lights them. 
“D-Doctor Mellark? Wh-what are you….”  
“Hi. Merry Christmas,” he begins. “I thought Ivy would be missing this.” He smiles and holds up the stuffed cat. 
Katniss stares at him, her lips parting faintly, and shock and confusion war on her pretty face. But then her grey eyes darken with what Peeta can only describe as restrained fury. 
She opens the door fully and glares at him.  
“You had Ivy’s cat?” she accuses. 
“Uh…yeah…” he stammers, his own confusion welling. Why is she so angry? “My nephew…he has a bear. Otis. Can’t sleep without that thing. I thought if Ivy is anything like Max…well, she’d be missing this.” He holds the cat out to Katniss. She snatches it so violently that she stumbles backwards. Peeta is equally jarred, but his jolt is from the very brief brush of Katniss’s fingers against his when she had grabbed the toy. 
But Katniss gives him no time to revel in the feeling.
“So this is why no one at the hospital had a goddamned clue what I was talking about when I called there looking for this cat an hour ago!” she spits. 
Shit, Peeta thinks, an uneasy feeling clawing its way into his gut. 
“Why the fuck—” He can’t help but notice her slight hesitation before she lobs the obscenity at him. “—would you take my niece’s cat? Is this something normal people do?” She’s shivering visibly as she rants, a clear consequence of stepping onto her front porch wearing nothing but green plaid pajama pants and a threadbare black Henley shirt.
“I….I…” He shakes his head. He’s not even sure how to defend his actions. He can’t very well tell her his ulterior motives in bringing the stuffed cat back to her niece. Not now. He definitely fucked this up.
“I was just trying to be nice. That I’d save you a trip on Christmas morning,” he finishes lamely. 
Katniss’s nostrils flare and her jaw flexes. “Christmas morning,” she mutters, just barely audible over the clattering of her teeth. “Did it occur to you, Dr. Mellark, that I might be looking for Ivy’s cat and I might call the hospital looking for this cat?” She shakes the toy in his face. “And did it occur to you that, in spite of all the toys she had just opened, Ivy might be bawling and throwing a fit because Buttercup was missing?”
Buttercup, he has to assume, is the stuffed cat.
She pauses, as if waiting for him to defend himself, but all he can do is swallow against the lump crowding his throat.
So she continues, “They made me think I was crazy—but not until after they left me on hold for 20 minutes while I tried to calm a wailing toddler. And then they said there was no toy matching this description in the Lost and Found. And that’s because you had it!” Her eyes are a maelstrom now, but he notices that an edge of frustration has crept into her furious tone. 
“And now Ivy doesn’t have it. So thank you. Thank you very much, Dr. Mellark. Merry Christmas.” And before Peeta can release the breath he’s been holding during her outburst and plead his case, she whirls around, her disheveled braid lancing through the air like a whip, and slams the door behind her. Stunned, Peeta can only stare at the wreath on the door as he processes what just happened.  
What. The. Fuck. 
Heart pounding, gut churning, Peeta retreats to his car. He takes a few minutes to absorb the shock of his encounter with Katniss, his mind reeling through the accusations she made. He never would have expected her to react like this. So much for any shot with Katniss Everdeen. 
He finally gathers his composure and navigates out of her complex. As he drives, his mind continues replaying Katniss’s words over and over, and he finds one thing nags at him. 
And now Ivy doesn’t have it.
Those words don’t make much sense to him. He just gave the stuffed animal back to Katniss. She can give it back to Ivy. She’ll have it now. In her wrath, Katniss just wasn’t being rational, he decides. 
But her words continue to haunt him off and on for the rest of the day. Along with persistent images of Katniss that further torment him. She is never far from his conscious thoughts. As he sits down next to the fireplace in his parents’ house with a tumbler of scotch to exchange gifts with his brothers and his nephews, he finds himself wondering who Katniss is celebrating with. Ivy, obviously. But does she have other family? 
By the time the Mellarks all settle around the table for dinner, he’s conjured up the notion that Katniss may not be married, but she surely has a devoted boyfriend who is showering her with gifts at this very moment. Her mood is infinitely better than what Peeta witnessed earlier. She’s probably dressed nice for him, and he’s sitting around her dining room table with Katniss and Ivy, like a makeshift family.
His mother’s irritation is palpable when she has to command his attention twice to try and draw him into the discussion centered on Rye’s upcoming wedding. Peeta murmurs the apology he knows she expects and feigns his dutiful brotherly interest for Rye’s benefit the remainder of the meal. But a dull ache has taken up residence in the center of his chest and he realizes just how badly he wants what his brothers have. 
He just won’t be having it with Katniss Everdeen.
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partnersatfazbear · 3 years
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Japan Package
Yeah, another off topic post... I don’t really have anywhere else to put this, though! Maybe you guys can learn more about me. =:3
I’ve always been a collector, especially of things from Japan... COVID has basically killed that for me with EMS taking almost 2 years to return and the skyrocketing prices of goods and shipping. So, with that said, this will be my last big collection post for a very, very long time [in regards to Japanese merch, I am still collecting FNAF!]
Anyone whose read my blog knows I’ve been hyped for Legend of Mana HD Remaster... and I nabbed a few things last minute when it was announced:
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A large rabbite plush! This kinda goes with my collection of yellow bunnies, so I splurged since it served more than one interest for me.
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Elazul and Pearl from the Square Millennium Collection.I already had these at one point but lost Pearl along the way, so I replaced them.
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Some Legend of Mana trading cards (they’re sealed) and Pokemon Gold playing card deck. This will Segway me into my Gold/HeartGold stuff...
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Moo-moo milks! The top one holds cold/hot drinks and the bottom one is a metal thermos.
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Lyra and co. I waited so long to complete my set for Johto... she was a pretty penny unfortunately.
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A bunch of various Gold related items. I don’t know much about them. A keychain, a small toy, and a postcard book. I should probably mention I got these items before the Pokemon Scalping Craze of 2021 took effect...
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Pokemon Stadium 2 CIB, Pokemon Gold CIB, some kind of physical Pokemon Heartgold thing (I believe it’s just the download card. I know it isn’t the normal game.) and finally, one of my grails-- a lightly used Johto Gameboy Color w/a cartidge of Gold.
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Pokemon Johto themed Pokeballs! This was a premium Bandai exclusive. I got it for the GS ball, NGL. While taking photos, my wife noticed that all of them open... except the GS ball of course! I did get this used so it was missing the dispenser parts and candy, but I didn’t care. I have the stands and belt attatchments--so looking forward to having these when I eventually cosplay Gold/Hibiki/Ethan.
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Another grail. I already had the Gold Pokedex and Pokegear. I decided to get the HeartGold Pokedex/Gear. I haven’t tried it out yet!
Since Pokemon relates to Digimon, I’ll post the tiny amount of items I got. I no longer actively collect in this community outside a few unique items that I may want, so this is the end of my Digimon collection for the most part.
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Not much to say regarding these. I had an atrocious time getting the shot glass the first time around, so I finally buckled and got it via a proper proxy. Weregarurumon, although a plush I don’t particularly like, was one of the last I needed to complete the line of plushes for the Gabumon line.
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I’ve been after the Tsukuda Hobby Misato Vinyl figure for years. I finally snagged her. I’ve always loved this line, but sold most of it a long time ago. I don’t really have a huge collection for Misato, but she was always my favorite and I like this piece to represent her in my collectibles.
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Jack from Radiata Stories. This was to complete my Star Ocean Trading Arts set. I also got the remainder of the Valkyrie Profile Trading Arts I was missing, but I didn’t picture them because they were thoroughly wrapped and I don’t want to lose pieces when I move.
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My MAIN collection is Star Ocean: the Second Story (and all of it’s iterations). If I ever make an exception to my no major packages importing rule, this would be why. An Amanesis keychain, a calendar and a small pocket book.
Okay, maybe I lied... my MAIN collection is Aerith Gainsborough... I love and adore her; always have!
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Aerith photo cards! I guess they were from Skytree? I don’t remember... Also some cards for Star Ocean EX, Pokemon Gold / Silver, and Ayumi Hamasaki.
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More Skytree items! These are edible. One is a bottle with hard sugar candy and the others are various suckers w/edible flowers!
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It took all I had not to cry when opening the music box... lol
Lastly... I was going through some bad times last October and I really rediscovered my love for Ayumi Hamasaki circa 1999-2001. I really wanted to embrace it and went a little nuts =:p If you haven’t heard her work, I highly recommend it. In fact I think A*BEST is probably my second favorite music album of all time. It’s in my top 3 for sure!
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A photobook. Some CDs! Remember how much I love A*BEST? I got the anniversary edition. Included a book, CD/DVD/BluRay combo, a shirt, and a special collectors box. AyuMiX and M~ were replacements because mine are worse for wear nowadays. LoveAPPEARS and the blue CD are new. The blue CD is actually a release BEFORE Ayumi Hamasaki’s first single--it’s pretty rare! I’m excited to hear it!
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A keychain, flipflops, and a stationary type set w/a binder, clear file, stickers, ect.
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An uncommon Ayu-pan! She is proportional.. as opposed to the chibi design they normally have. And a mousepad! Sold at one of her early concerts!
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Vinyl records of her singles: M~ and Endless Sorrow.
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A CD single style keychain and a card for Endless Sorrow rounds out the lot.
It’s been an adventure... and I’m really sad to see it end until things settle down again, IF they do...
I wanted to say I have almost all the non essentials packed for my move, so I may be able to post some actual FNAF content in a week or so! =:3 Thank you for checking out the fun with me!
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bbrandy2002 · 3 years
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Fool’s Rush In
Part 10
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I’m participating in @wackydrabbles​ prompt 71 “Dont be stubborn. Try it.”
Word Count: 1890
Pairing: Liam and Riley
Thanks @burnsoslow​ for beta reading and pretty much having to drag me across the finish line, as well as all the weeks and weeks of listening to me whine and pity myself.  And @emkay512​ for pre-reading and your encouraging words late Monday that made my whole night.
a/n: this is crack, plain and simple. I haven’t written since mid-october; just been paralyzed with fear over my own writing and this is my practice run and basically the best I could come up with. I’m going to try so so hard to finish this series
The new royal couple, fresh off their Vegas flight, stepped up to a makeshift podium the press had created on the tarmac. It was packed tightly with news station microphones crammed in every nook and cranny, one on top of the other. Voice recorders were spread across its surface, and the crown's private jet served as the backdrop. A bevy of frenzied reporters -- domestic and international -- pushed and elbowed their way into one another in hopes of getting the closest shot of the newlyweds and a chance to have their questions answered first.
“King Liam! Is the marriage binding?”
“How long have you known, Miss Brooks?”
“Were you trying to make a political statement by having a hooker at the ceremony?”
“Your Majesty! Will the monkey be joining your court soon?”
So many questions, most followed by laughter and snickers directed at the King and his bride.
Liam frowned as his eyes dashed side to side in a diligent effort to understand the literally thousands of questions that were lobbed at him all at once. He blinked rapidly as one flash of a camera after the next blinded and bleached his vision. Just as it would return to normal, another successive set of flashes would set him back again.
He had been a part of news conferences since he was a child, when he would watch his late father speak from different parts of the world, near and far, about this policy or that deal. Yet this was different. This was not only the biggest breaking story in Cordonia -- or even Europe -- but one that had swept the world. 
His drunken actions two nights ago, no doubt, would have created a stir; however, it was Maxwell's post on Instagram of the ceremony that now made him tabloid fodder. Everyone knew about the king who was married by his own brother and an Elvis impersonator, the leg-humping monkey that served as a ring bearer, and the chain-smoking, tube-top-wearing prostitute who was the maid of honor. As confident as Liam had been that he could handle this, as he'd dealt with so many other stories of intrigue regarding the monarchy, he couldn't dispel the twisting feeling that burrowed deep into the pit of his stomach.
Maybe Madeleine was right: he had become a laughingstock. A failure. Just one big fuck up.
As much as he hated to hear the things said about him, he could deal with it. In the morning, he would call Prince Harry to swap stories, survival tips, and perhaps share a good laugh about it.
It was just ...
Liam felt Riley's tiny hand grip his a little tighter. He wouldn't blame her one bit if his little pussycat turned around and headed back up the steps to the jet and returned to Las Vegas. The only thing Liam wanted to do was keep her shielded from the hurtful comments and insensitive questions. But to his astonishment, she stood there with all the feigned confidence in the world, flashing a big, beaming smile that lit his heart on fire, while staring back at him affectionately. She was handling the situation better than she was before they stepped off the plane. He knew she was doing it for him. God, she just makes everything better. 
Feeling a little more grounded and in control, Liam returned her smile. A touch of radiance sparkled between his eyes and hers, as if it were some sort of unspoken conversation only they understood. Riley knew exactly what he needed at that moment to rise above this scandal they were both being raked over the coals for: He needed her to be okay.
Raising his free hand to calm the crowd so that he might address their concerns, he noticed the press' attention and cameras suddenly shift away from him and into the distance. Murmurs and chatter soon erupted. Naturally, Liam's gaze followed suit -- towards a group of heavily-armed soldiers heading their way. They wore white hazmat uniforms and had self-contained breathing apparatus and personal protective equipment. Leading the charge was a well-dressed gentleman in a three-piece suit with a shiny bald head that glistened with heavy perspiration. 
He walked like he hadn't shit in weeks.
Liam squinted and lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the bright sunlight. “The hell is that?”
Riley inched closer to Liam and clasped his suit jacket. "What's happening right now? Who are all those people, Liam?"
Liam's forehead creased in puzzlement; he didn't know. Wrapping his arms protectively around Riley, he pulled her even closer but never answered the question. It wasn't until the uniformed men stopped briefly and pointed to Drake, who was standing with his arms crossed at the bottom of the stairs, that it suddenly became clear who they were looking for.
Reporters and onlookers had been so focused on Liam’s return with the American woman, they hadn’t noticed that the brooding Walker had exited the jet last among their posse. Just as everyone had watched replays and snippets of Maxwell’s Instagram video, they were also fully aware the King’s best friend wasn’t exactly returning to Cordonia … healthy … thanks to Maxwell’s Tik Tok sing-along. 
A video Drake Walker had no clue existed. 
 The crowd began to disperse in fear and panic. If men in hazmat suits were needed, they could only assume this went well beyond your casual, run-of-the-mill STD.
Still in no mood to play around, Drake started yelling obscenities and gradually backing away from the hazmat brigade that was closing in on him like a cheetah at a water buffalo hole. 
"Mr. Walker," a heavily echoed voice called out, sounding oddly reminiscent of Darth Vader through their breathing contraption, "we need you to come with us."
"The fuck I do." Drake shook his head emphatically while continuing to slide away from them. "I'll beat the shit out of all of ya if you so much as touch me."
"Now, Mr. Walker, don't be stubborn. Try it, and you'll find yourself with a nice little tranquilizer to the ass. Are you going to come with us willingly, or do we have to make this more difficult than it needs to be?"
Drake stood motionless in disbelief. "I don't even know what you guys want or what you think I did," he squawked with a hint of desperation in his tone.
"Tough titties. SEIZE HIM!"
With that order, Drake twisted on the heels of his boots and took off, dodging and weaving away from a bunch of men he had no clue why were even after him. 
He had a pretty good hunch, though, who set this chain of events in motion.
The bald guy in a three-piece suit walked up to Liam and flipped his badge open. "Your Majesty?"
Liam nodded, not bothering to acknowledge the man's credentials. "I am. What is the meaning of all this? What the hell are you doing with Drake?"
"Sir, if you will, it has come to our attention that Mr. Walker is a public health risk and highly contagious. We will have to secure him into our custody at once."
Liam scrunched up his face in utter confusion and stared back at the official before responding, “He just has case of crabs, syphilis, herpes, genital warts, gonorrhea, and chlamydia. You’re treating him like he’s about to start some damn worldwide pandemic. Without sexual contact and with heavy doses of medications and creams, Drake should be able to live a normal life like anyone else. So, as the ruler of this country, I am ordering your men to stand down at once.”
“My apologies, King Liam, but my orders come from the World Health Organization and the United Nations. You'll need to take this up with them. Dr. Wolfschitz was clear on the protocol."
"Dr. Wolfschitz?" Liam questioned as realization quickly set in. He twisted around to face Leo, who had this enormous shit-eating grin, the likes he'd never seen on him before. "You? You did this?"
“Walker messed with the wrong bull, little bro.” Leo stuck up his pointer fingers on both sides of his head with a menacing scowl and smugness in his tone. “Now he gets the horns.”
Liam swatted away one of Leo's finger horns. “This is serious, Leo. Not everything is a joke! You're going to fix this, NOW!"
Leo placed a comforting hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, patting it a few times before speaking softly to him. “Look, I know you’re upset right now. You two were very close. But the Drakester is going to a far better place. There’s a big open field and everything where he can run and play all day with others just like him. And all the meaty bones he can eat too … lucky bastard.”
Riley had to bury her face in Liam’s chest to prevent the laugh that threatened to escape, but the bobbing of her shoulders was something she couldn’t hide. 
“NOW, Leo!” 
Leo tried to hold his ground but was too weak to resist the impatient glare Liam was burning into his soul. After a brief moment, he rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. "Why ya gotta be such a dillhole, Liam? Do you realize you get rattled faster than a two-tit turtle on a tightrope? It's really not your best quality, little brother, but we can work on that." Annoyed, Liam rubbed a hand over his eyes and groaned as his brother continued, "Either way, Father always said, ‘if you can't help your fellow man out, you might as well become one of the Walkers.’ Truer words were never spoken so eloquently.”  Leo raised his eyes to the heavens thoughtfully before thinking better of it and lowered them toward the ground. "May you rest in peace, Father," he shouted.
As Leo trotted off to speak with Bald Dude to confess his false claim, Bastien helped guide Liam and Riley through the rambunctious swarm of reporters and spectators. Once they reached the limo, Liam helped Riley inside as Maxwell rounded the vehicle and climbed in on the other side. Pausing for a moment before sliding in, the King placed his hands on top of the open door of the limo and turned one last time to check on his friend. He swallowed hard over the guilt of leaving him behind. As His Majesty watched in horror, Drake took a tranquilizer dart to the back of the thigh and Bastien insisted the area was a security threat, shoving him inside. They would send another car to transport Drake and Leo back to the palace. 
Bastien stomped on the gas pedal and sped off, kicking up dirt and smoke as the tires peeled and squealed against the fiery Cordonian asphalt.
When they passed through the airport's security gate, a small motorcade following closely behind, Liam finally lifted his head, his eyes growing wide when he realized what just happened: Bastien's shove had sent Liam flying across the seat to land face-first into a lap — her lap. 
He stayed frozen in place, unable to look anywhere but the two slender, bronzed legs peeking out below the hem of his new wife's dress. 
Riley lifted an eyebrow, a slight grin dangling from her plush pink lips. "Something you wanna say, Your Majesty?"
Everything that had just happened in the 15 minutes since they landed was long forgotten. Drake who? Liam glanced up with a devilish smirk. "Welcome to Cordonia, Pussycat."
@burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719 @hopefulmoonobject @texaskitten30 @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @loveellamae @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @drakexwillow @caroldxnvxrs @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @cordoniaqueensworld @amandablink
@liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @annekebbphotography
@txemrn @ofpixelsandscribbles @alyssalauren @cordonianroyalty @monsoonblooms12 @mom2000aggie @theroyalheirshadowhunter @princessleac1 @kimmiedoo5 @graceful-leah @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @thegreentwin @gkittylove99 @cinnamonspongecake @lifeaskim @neotericthemis @pink-diamond13 @walker7519 @natureblooms24 @yourmajesty09
Liam x MC only: Cordonia-gothqueen
Anything with Drake: @tinkie1973
FRI Series Tags:  @sanchita012 ​  @narrytheworld ​  @queenwalton   @gabesmommie1130 @cordonianprincess   @liamandneca @emkay512 @waywardromancefantasygirl @nomadics-stuff @queendianaofcordonia @zaffrenotes @zilch3 @kat-tia801 @drrookie @sfb123
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swiftgronmasterpost · 4 years
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Late Stage Swiftgron Part 1
Update from November 2021 - I really don’t believe much of this is meaningful at all.  I don’t think they’re sitting around referencing one another on social media or anything but some of Dianna’s interactions with Karlie are interesting Dianna shows up explicitly in Taylor’s life a couple more times so I’m leaving these sections here.;
From here on out everything but the 2014 AMAs and Dianna’s somewhat shocking appearance at Taylor’s 2019 SNL performance are just odd social media shenanigans (or subtweets) between the two, and Taylor appearing to release at least one more song about Dianna (Babe in 2018) (and let’s be honest you can make a strong argument for The 1 being about Dianna as well other post 1989 songs.)
Some of this might be complete crack or coincidence but as you all know I want this to be the most thorough Swiftgron document possible.  
If anything it proves they both certainly still have similar interests and they really do seem to be in touch.
There are some interactions claimed by others to be Swiftgron related that I’m not going to include because they’re just a bit too reachy for me (though I completely support the theorizing!) but in general, if I personally can see the hint of a Swiftgron connection, I’m going to include it here. Draw your own conclusions and take everything, particularly the alleged subtweets/social media shenanigans, with a grain of salt.
And yes there’s tons of Kaylor and other Gaylor/Gaygron content that will be left out of this segment because this masterpost is focused on Swiftgron.  Someday it would be cool to make a giant masterpost/timeline that documents all of it, but for now it’s just going to be Swiftgron stuff. August 26, 2014 - Dianna tweets, and then deletes “Withdrawals, clearly…we had fun.” 
There’s no screen shot of this tweet but some retweets/responses of it remain:
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If Dianna is indeed referencing the song Clean (in which their relationship is compared to an addiction hence, “withdrawals” from it) then Taylor would have had to give her advanced knowledge of the song since 1989 did not come out until October 2014.
Taylor did claim she ran 1989 by the muse that inspired it and they were both in LA in late August 2014. Maybe this is when.
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November 1, 2014 - Taylor posts about Clean
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November 19, 2014 - The 2014 AMAs Kaylorgron Explosion Extravaganza:
Taylor, Karlie, and Dianna are at the event.  Taylor and Karlie are clearly on a date and Dianna is there to present Sam Smith’s performance of I’m not the only one.  Dianna seems a bit out of her element/gloomy when interviewed on the red carpet and Taylor flexes Karlie hard, dancing with her throughout the night and even sitting on her lap during an interview.
Click here for photos, video, gifs, and a live L chat reaction to the night.
December 28, 2014 - The writer for the tv show The Originals, Carina Mackenzie, tweeted that 1989 was about Dianna:
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It’s of course notable that someone in the industry is “confirming” Swiftgron on main (particularly before gaylor went mainstream with Kaylor being so obvious in 2015/2016) however what’s even more interesting and notable about this tweet is that an actor named Michael Trevino was on the show The Originals and he dated Jenna Ushkowitz from 2011-2014.
Not only that but Michael was at Dianna’s 26th birthday when Taylor was in attendance as well.
It’s possible that Michael witnessed Swiftgron in real life and spilled a bit to the writer of the TV show he was on.
January 5, 2015 - Taylor likes a Swiftgron related post on Tumblr of Dianna saying she’d go on the road with Taylor and carry her bags at the Giffoni Film Festival in 2012:
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February 9, 2015 - Style is released as a single
February 13, 2015 - The Kaylor “Best Friends” on a road trip Vogue Spread comes out.  You’re probably familiar with it but if you aren’t google it.  It’s incredibly romantic and pda filled.
The Style music video is released on this day as well.
We don’t have to go through the whole video but one egg I just have to note is the cave pictured in the MV is in Morocco the same country Dianna seemed to flee to after Swiftgron was outed:
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February 14, 2015 - Dianna tweets 143 remember those days (for some reason it has not been deleted) seemingly in response to the Kaylor vogue shoot:
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143 is a code that means “I love you” that originated from Mister Rogers.  Both Taylor and Dianna have publicly shown that they are fans of his.  Taylor has even made certain songs 3 minutes and 41 seconds long seemingly referring to this number and wore a Mister Rogers pin on a jacket for a photoshoot once.
Here’s a bit more in depth analysis on the significance of the 143 post.
This tweet is how we know that it is 100% in Dianna’s character to occasionally subtweet Taylor and why a lot of this social media analysis has been done.  
February 16, 2015 - Just two days later Dianna attends a fashion show in which Karlie walks and is noted to “have kept a smirk on her face” during.  Dianna doesn’t clap at the end of the show and looks miserable in photos of the event:
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February 17, 2015 - Taylor releases Wonderland
I’m going to pause here and discuss the song Wonderland for a brief moment because it is some of the most incredibly airtight evidence for Swiftgron available.
Dianna’s favorite book of all time is Alice in Wonderland.  She brought it up in interviews all the time, tweeted about it, auctioned off a signed copy of it for charity, her private Tumblr and instagram account are called whosirmesir which is a reference to it, her private Tumblr is filled with reblogs about Alice, and her public Tumblr was called fell down the rabbit hole.
So the fact that Taylor writes an entire song describing a relationship through the lens of and packing full of references to Alice in Wonderland is incredibly interesting.
Let’s take a look at some of these lyrics:
Flashing lights and we, took a wrong turn and we Fell down the rabbit hole (literally Dianna’s tumblr name and url)
Didn't you flash your green eyes at me (Dianna is famous for her beautiful almost hypnotic green eyes and yes they are green)
Haven't you heard what becomes of curious minds (queer coded)
Too in love to think straight (queer coded)
But there were strangers watching And whispers turned to talking And talking turned to screams (seems to reference when they were outed) You searched the world for something else (Dianna very publicly went travelling around the world right after April 2013 when they seem to break up)
Taylor literally put Dianna’s Tumblr URL in the song.  Frankly I’m kind of shocked she released this song at all it is so obviously and clearly about Dianna.  Truly a Swiftgron anthem!
Back to the timeline...
March 8, 2015 - Taylor posts Flamingos for her dad’s birthday:
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The caption was “Happy Birthday, Dad. Thanks for all the unconditional love, sarcastic comments, and interesting Christmas presents.”
May 1, 2015 - Dianna posts a flamingo for her birthday (post is now deleted):
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The caption was “This is 29. Spoiled rotten. Funny enough, at work they were painting the hallways white and the roses (hallway doors) red, then I actually went to Wonderland (@AliceUnderLdn) and came home to a surprise flamingo. Here we go. Another year around the sun…feeling lucky and loved and loved and lucky.”
Taylor also gave Emily, another rumored ex, a flamingo bandana for her birthday.  i also think it’s odd that Dianna mentions Wonderland specifically in the post.
January 15, 2016 - Dianna’s engagement to Winston is announced and Kaylors notice Taylor is liking sad posts on Tumblr including several posts related to Clean:
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November 7, 2016 - Lorde’s birthday party where Kaylor is together in public for the last time for 20 months.
January 5, 2017 - Claire (who is still very close with Taylor) comments on one of Dianna’s Instagram posts):
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March 2, 2017 - Dianna posts her James Dean inStyle UK photo to Instagram:
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This is actually the second time she has posted this as a throwback photo.  She also posted it on February 4, 2016 with simply the caption “TBT” and did not include the “rebel without a clue” bit which is a reference to James Dean (Rebel Without a Cause). She’s never posted the same TBT photo twice before or after this (as of the writing of this post in October 2020).
It I may be permitted to go real far out on a limb here it’s almost as if she wanted people to connect that photo of her in the UK InStyle magazine to James Dean.  James Dean is of course the way Taylor describes her lover in the song Style.  
At any rate it’s very odd that it’s the only photo she’s posted twice whether it’s related to Taylor or not.
April 25, 2017 - Fans notice Dianna is having her script tattoo removed:
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This is significant because a part of the tattoo was dedicated to Alice in Wonderland - it said “We’re all mad here” 
Tattoo removal is a years long process:
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So it’s possible she started getting it removed around the time that Wonderland came out.
It’s also possible part of the tattoo was dedicated to Lea (the part that said “here I am”) so this whole removal situation is very interesting.
In 2019 she was still getting it removed and commented this at a Cafe Carlyle session:
"i was like i don't know i wanna explain all my tattoos or the one that i'm getting removed on my side...you know you're like...WHATEVER we're stopping we're moving on"
February 13, 2018 - Dianna attends the Carolina Herrera fashion show, so does Karlie. Dianna is introduced to Karlie by Derek Blasberg and very audibly calls Karlie “gorgeoouusss” as they meet. 
Kayda play “Gorgeous” by Taylor Swift.
vimeo
Click here to keep reading!
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February 2016
Feb 11th - Kanye debuts his song Famous at his Yeezy fashion show. It contains the infamous lyric, 'I feel like me and Taylor might still have sex / Why? I made that bitch famous.' Gigi Hadid and Austin Swift are quick to express their disapproval. (x)
Feb 12th - Taylor's publicist Tree Paine releases a statement saying "Kanye did not call for approval, but to ask Taylor to release his single 'Famous' on her Twitter account. She declined and cautioned him about releasing a song with such a strong misogynistic message. Taylor was never made aware of the actual lyric, "I made that bitch famous.’" (x)
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Ruby Rose condemns Kanye, tweeting, 'Too many lines crossed. If I put myself in the shoes of the women he has hurt recently. Victims of Bill Cosby, the slut shaming, Amber… And now my dear friend Taylor.. Right before another huge moment for her.. Can I still support him and call myself a feminist? A friend? No.' (x)
Kanye claims on Twitter that Taylor thought the lyric was funny and that she came up with it herself. He also claimed Taylor told a mutual friend over dinner that, 'I can't be mad at Kanye because he made me famous!' (x)
Sometime in the days leading up to the Grammys - Taylor's 73 Questions with Vogue interview is filmed in LA (it is not published until April, soon after her Vogue cover is released). In the video, she says she is currently busy 'working out and getting ready for Grammys' (presumably referring to rehearsals since she was the opening performer that year). (Update: turns out the interview was filmed on the 2nd Feb.)
Some other answers she gave in this interview:
What are you completely bored of in life right now? Clickbait.
What's your favourite food? I mean, if we're just saying, like, what I wish I could eat every day if calories didn't count, is like, chicken tenders.
What's one thing you still have from your childhood? My insecurities.
What's something you've always wanted to try but you've been too scared to do? Coachella.
What advice would you give to anyone who wants to become a singer? Uh, get a good lawyer.
What's the one thing you wish you knew at nineteen? If I could talk to my nineteen-year-old self I'd just say, hey, you know, you're gonna date just like a normal twenty-something should be allowed to, but you're going to be a national lightning rod for slut-shaming.
What do you think is the most important life lesson for someone to learn? That karma is real.
Feb 15th - Taylor attends the 58th Annual Grammy Awards in LA. She opens the televised show with a performance of Out of the Woods (x) and debuts her Anna Wintour-esque bob (x).
After her performance, she is seen crying in the audience while Selena (her plus-one for the evening) comforts her. Apparently she is upset about missing a note while performing. (x) (video)
1989 wins Album of the Year, making her the first woman to win this award twice. In her acceptance speech, she references the situation with Kanye, saying, 'I want to say to all the young women out there, there are going to be people along the way who will try to undercut your success, or take credit for your accomplishments or your fame.' (x)
Taylor attends the Republic Records afterparty with friends and then-boyfriend Calvin Harris, who was not there for the awards show itself. (x)
In her 2020 documentary Miss Americana, Taylor had this to say about the 2016 Grammys: (x)
My life had never been better. I had won album of the year at the Grammys for a second time, which I never thought was a possibility. And I remembered thinking afterward, oh my god, that was all you wanted. Oh god, that was all you wanted. That was all you focused on. And you get to the mountaintop and you look around and you’re like, oh god. What now? I didn’t have a partner that I climbed it with that I could, like, high five. I didn’t have anyone I could talk to who could relate to what I was – you know? I had my mom. But I just wondered, shouldn’t I have someone that I could call right now?
Feb 16th - Calvin posts a photo of Taylor accepting her AOTY Grammy to social media with the caption, 'Congratulations to my beautiful girlfriend.' (x) I cannot believe this post is still up 💀💀
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Taylor goes for lunch with Scott and Andrea at Cecconi's in LA. (x)
Feb 17th - Taylor is seen out shopping in Beverly Hills. (x)
The NME Awards take place in London at the O2 Academy. Taylor wins Best International Solo Artist but is not there in person. Instead, a pre-recorded video of her accepting the award is played at the ceremony. (x) Her outfit and haircut suggest that the video was filmed on the same day as her Vogue 73 Questions interview at her LA house.
Feb 19th - Taylor announces on Twitter that New Romantics will be the next single from 1989. (x)
She is seen getting off her plane in Reading, PA (x) and visiting her childhood home. (x)
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Feb 20th - Taylor is the maid of honour at her childhood best friend Britany Maack's wedding in Pennsylvania. (x) She brings Vogue reporter Jason Gay with her, and he writes about the weekend for Taylor's Vogue cover story, published in the May edition. (x)
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A few excerpts from that weekend (not published until almost two months later): (x)
Swift says she is ready to lie a little low. After the wedding, she will go to New York, where she will be spotted dining with her friend Lena Dunham, and then be seen a week later in Los Angeles with her brother, Austin, and her friend Lorde at the Vanity Fair Oscar Party. As for future plans . . . who knows? For the first time in years, Swift is not sure exactly what is next. She is very much OK with this.
So what the hell are you going to do with the rest of your life, Taylor Swift?
“I have no idea,” she says, with a sigh that’s more blissful than anxious. “This is the first time in ten years that I haven’t known. I just decided that after the past year, with all of the unbelievable things that happened . . . I decided I was going to live my life a little bit without the pressure on myself to create something.”
//
Because I’m a hopeless cheeseball, I can’t help asking: Being part of this wedding, does it make Swift think about being married some day? For the past year, she has been seeing the Scottish DJ-producer Calvin Harris. Harris is not here with her, but in early March, he and Swift will post cutesy notices on social media—his on Snapchat; hers on Instagram—commemorating the one-year status of their relationship. Soon after, both will post photographs of an idyllic, whereabouts-unknown vacation in the tropics, with ts + aw written in the sand. (Harris’s given name is Adam Wiles.)
“I’m just taking things as they come,” Swift says. “I’m in a magical relationship right now. And of course I want it to be ours, and low-key . . . this is the one thing that’s been mine about my personal life.”
//
“I think the world is so bored with the [Kanye] saga,” she goes on. “I don’t want to add anything to it, because then there’s just more.”
Feb 21st - Taylor donates $250,000 to Kesha after she loses her lawsuit against Dr Luke and Sony. (x)
Taylor goes to New York and visits the Vogue offices. (x) She also meets Lena Dunham for dinner. (x)
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Feb 22nd - Demi Lovato tweets, 'Take something to Capitol Hill or actually speak out about something and then I'll be impressed.' The tweet is widely interpreted as shading Taylor following the news of her donation. (x)
Taylor is papped arriving at and leaving Milk Studios, a photography studio in NYC. (x) I think this was when they shot her Vogue cover (she wore a wig for the cover shoot and only bleached her actual hair in April when the magazine came out).
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Feb 23rd - Kanye brings up the Famous controversy while onstage at 1 OAK nightclub in LA. He claims Taylor said “Ooh Kanye, I like that line!” when he told her about the line 'I feel like me and Taylor might still have sex.' “Then she won her award and said something completely different! She not cool no more. She had two seconds to be cool and she fucked it up.” (x)
Feb 24th - Taylor and Jack Antonoff go for dinner at the Maia restaurant in LA. (x)
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Feb 28th - Taylor attends the Vanity Fair Oscars afterparty in LA. (x) She is photographed with Lorde and Austin.
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Intro // February // March // April // May // June // July // August // September // October // November
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rmtndew · 4 years
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Begin Again
Summary: Walter Marshall is a dedicated homicide detective doing his best to balance his work life with being a single father to a teenage girl. Fiona Sparks is a woman doing her best to take care of everyone and everything around her, except for herself. Neither has had the best luck with relationships, but once they meet, they’re willing to give it another shot, this time with each other. (It’s basically just romantic fluff) 
Pairing: Marshall and OFC.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mentions of death, cancer.
A/N - This is a sequel to ‘All I’ve Ever Known’. I started writing this because I needed an escape for some personal stuff going on and my coping mechanism included giving Marshall all the love that man needed, and imagining him being the softest boyfriend to me, then passing those details on to Fiona (my OFC).
I also made a Spotify playlist for this story, if anyone is interested - Begin Again Playlist 
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Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7
The last Wednesday in October was a gray, misty, windy day. It was cold, the kind you felt more in your bones than anywhere else, with the sky occasionally spitting out sleet. I spent the entire twenty-minute drive to my job at Waverly Catering clutching the steering wheel so tightly that my hands were cramping by the time I arrived from white-knuckling it the whole way there. Usually, I would get to work early enough to enjoy the silence and finish off my coffee before officially starting my workday. That day, however, I spent the very little extra time I had trying to get my hands to stop hurting, then chugged down my coffee that had cooled dramatically to a gross lukewarm temperature. 
Before going in, I checked my phone. I always kept it on silent while I drove. My mom had a tendency to text me, make a dozen spelling mistakes because of auto-correct, then correct them one by one, leaving me with about thirteen separate texts to read. It didn’t use to bother me, I thought it was charming and very distinctly Mom. But when she’d gotten sick at the beginning of the year, every text she sent that I couldn’t read immediately made me panic, worrying that something terrible had happened to her, even when I’d just seen her at home a few minutes before. So for my sanity - and hers - I started putting my phone on silent until I got to work, or wherever else I was going. It was a habit I’d kept even after she’d gone into remission because her cancer may have been gone, but my anxiety over her wasn’t. 
That morning when I checked my phone, I saw that I had two texts, but they weren’t from Mom. 
Marshall:  Good morning, Fi. I hope that I get to see you today. I’ll be chained to  my desk with paperwork for a while. This is the first time I’ve not dreaded it. You’re my silver lining.
That was cheesy. I’m sorry. I’m bad at this.
And just like that, all of my stress melted away. The weather didn’t matter, my disappointing coffee didn’t matter, even the cramping in my hands didn’t matter. All that did matter was that Walter Marshall thought of me as his silver lining. Yes it was early days, yes we’d barely known each other a month, yes we’d only gone on two dates, but he made me happier than I’d been in a long time. I felt like I’d been holding my breath for two years, starting when my dad had died in a car crash, followed by my boyfriend Ezra breaking up with me, then losing my job as an interior designer, and capping off with my mom’s cancer diagnoses. Then Walter came along and it was like I could finally breathe again. 
Me:  Please don’t apologize. You have no idea how much I needed to read that this morning. Feel free to be as  cheesy as you want. And I hope I get to see you today, too, even if it  means you’re chained to your desk.
Marshall:  If I don’t see you for some reason,  can I call you tonight? I miss your  voice and you make me want to get better at this talking thing. 
I could feel myself blushing. Even over the phone he made me feel like a teenager with a crush. I had no idea that anyone could make me feel that way as an adult, but he did every time he texted me. 
Me:  Of course you can. Even if we do see  each other, you can still call, if you want? Practice makes perfect, and all that.
Marshall: I’d like that. Talk to you soon.
I sat back in my seat with a sigh as I looked out at the sleet falling from the gray sky, spattering my windshield, blurring out the image of the trees in the park across from me blowing and bending in the wind. 
It was going to be a good day. 
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“You look...dare I say it? Happy?” Darcy said as I walked into her office.
I smiled. “You may dare to say it because yes, I am quite happy.”
“And what brings you to such an extreme emotion so early on such a disgusting day?”
I went to her desk and sat in the chair opposite her. “Well, for one, I know that you’re about to do me a big favor that I will forever be grateful for.”
“Fiona Sparks asking for a favor? I’ll mark the day in my calendar,” she joked. “What kind of favor do you need?”
“I need a copy of the peanut butter cookie recipe.”
“For what purpose?” 
“See, that’s where the happiness part comes into play and you, being one of my dearest friends, would love to see me happy.” 
“I would but I’m unsure how a cookie recipe is going to do that.”
“It’s not for me,” I said, smiling wide. “I met this guy -” 
“What? Who?” she asked enthusiastically, her eyes wide with excitement.
“His name is Walter Marshall. He’s our detective who never changes his lunch order.”
“You’re dating one of the homicide detectives? You can feel free to thank me later for giving you that order, by the way. But right now I want details: How long have you been dating and why am I just now finding out about it?”
“We’re not technically dating. I met him a few weeks ago for the first time and we went on two dates last week.” 
“You haven’t dated anyone in over two years, and then you go on two dates in one week?”
“Well, the first was just a coffee date. Saturday we tried having a proper one.” 
“Tried?” she asked, raising her eyebrow. 
“He wanted to take me to dinner, so we went to an Italian place, but before we could order, his daughter called. She was supposed to be at a Halloween party, but some of her friends had lied to her, I guess, and it ended up being a basement party with slightly older boys and she felt uncomfortable, so we went and picked her up. Then we all went for pizza together.”
“He has a daughter, which is some heavy baggage to begin with, but you met her on your second date? That’s a lot, Fiona.” 
“I know it seems like it, but it’s really not. She’s a good kid. And he’s an amazing father, which, oddly, just makes him more attractive,” I said. “But that’s not the point. The point is that his daughter was, understandably, a little iffy about me being with him when he picked her up until she found out that I’m the one who brings the cookies. She apparently loves them and I told her that I might be able to get her a copy of the recipe and that seemed to pave the way for her not hating me instantly. And she’s thirteen, so that’s a pretty big deal.”
“I have so many questions right now but I can’t sort them all out so I’m going to be annoying you with them all day, just be prepared for that. All I want to know right now is if you want the recipe laminated or not?” 
I let out a relieved breath. “Yes, please, if you don’t mind. And thank you so much, Darcy. You have no idea how much this means to me.”
“I do know. You never ask for anything, even simple things, so the fact that you’re willing to ask me for a favor means this is a pretty big deal,” she said. “He must be a good guy.”
I nodded. “He really is.” 
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I arrived at the police station that morning a little before eleven. I’d left the shop early, worried the weather might get bad again and didn’t want to be late for my delivery. Thankfully the sleeting had stopped, allowing me to get there a few minutes early. A few minutes that I used up trying to pull my dolly through the parking lot. The lot had been salted, which was good in that at least it wasn’t icy, but the wheels on my dolly didn’t seem to like the brine mixture. They kept locking up on me. Between that and having to fight against the roaring wind, it took me an embarrassingly long time to reach the station door. Before I could push it open, someone opened it from the inside for me. I looked up, expecting to see Officer Bates. He was the security officer that was posted downstairs and always went through the containers full of lunches that I brought to the homicide unit every week. Instead, I saw Marshall.
“Hello,” he said with a smile. 
I immediately felt like giggling. The last time I’d seen him, we’d kissed. And seeing him right then, seeing his beautiful, handsome face, I wanted so badly to kiss him again. Instead, I felt myself grow shy as I blushed so fiercely that my cheeks stung with the new heat that rushed to them. 
“Hi,” I said. He pulled the door open all the way, then stepped back, allowing me to walk in. My stomach fluttered as I looked back at him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He closed the door behind me. “May I help you with your cart?”
“No, it’s okay.”
“Would you let me help you take it back to your car when you leave, at least?”
I fought every instinct inside of me that insisted I say no. Darcy was right: I hated asking for even simple things. I never wanted to burden anyone. But since I’d met Marshall, I’d learned that his way of showing interest or affection was to do things for me. But he always asked first, wanting my permission. It challenged me, but in a good way. I didn’t need to always go it alone if I didn’t have to. 
“Um, yeah, I’d appreciate that. Thank you,” I said. “The wheels didn’t seem to agree with the salted parking lot. You could probably pull it a lot easier than me.” 
Marshall stayed with me as Officer Bates went through the containers I’d brought in. He wasn’t close enough to make anyone passing by question it, but it was close enough that my hand hanging at my side could feel the heat coming from his hand and forearm, that was visible from the blue henley that was pushed up to his elbows in a way that I found incredibly attractive. My fingers itched to seek out his, but I fought it. Keeping them obediently beside me. Once Officer Bates was done and gave me the all clear to take the food up, Walter walked me to the elevator and pressed the button to call it down. Then he held the door back, letting me in first before following me. After the door slid closed, he fell back half a step, putting him right beside me. His hand bumped mine, his fingers snaking through, gently holding mine. I smiled, knowing I wasn’t the only one itching for contact. 
I turned without a thought and placed a kiss on his shoulder. Then I paused, a moment of panic rising in me that maybe we weren’t at that level yet. But before I could move or feel too worried, he placed a kiss on the top of my head.
“I keep thinking about Saturday,” he whispered. 
“Me, too,” I said. I looked up at him. “It was...pretty amazing.”
He smiled. I could see his sharp canine teeth. They were oddly charming. “Yes, it was.” He laced his fingers with mine more securely, properly holding it. “I know I mentioned calling you tonight, but I hoped that we might have dinner again instead. If you’re not busy?”
“I’m exceptionally not busy tonight.”
“Good.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead before turning his head back to face the elevator door. “I won’t be able to finish all my paperwork today, there’s too much and it keeps multiplying like rabbits, so since I have to do it tomorrow anyway, I’m going to knock off here around five. Could I pick you up after that? Around five-thirty, perhaps?” 
I nodded, smiling. “That sounds great.”
The elevator dinged as we reached the homicide unit floor. He gave my hand a couple of gentle squeezes before letting it go as the door slid open. He stepped out, then held the door for me like he had before, letting me pull my cart out. He walked with me almost all the way to the break room before a shorter man with glasses stopped him. 
“Lieutenant Marshall, can I speak with you in your office for a moment?” he asked. 
“Of course.” Walter touched my shoulder. “Excuse me,” he said to me quietly before leaving for his office. 
I continued on and was met by most of the detectives waiting for me. Like usual, they didn’t talk to me much, just thanking me for the food before taking their box and going. I took my time, hoping that by the time that I was done, the man speaking with Walter would be gone before I brought him his lunch. When I was done, I packed up my cart before taking Marshall’s boxed lunch and walked down the hall, finding the door to his office open. I could hear him talking still and wasn’t sure what to do. I’d made a deal with him a few weeks back to always bring his lunch to his office whenever I delivered - the first time was because a uniformed officer looked like he was going to swipe it, after that, it was to thank him for rescuing me from a pushy creep while I was with my ‘friends’. We’d never discussed if I should interrupt while he was working. I chewed my lip, debating what to do for several seconds before deciding to just take a chance and knock on the door frame. The worst case scenario was that I looked like a very dedicated delivery woman making sure that all of my orders reached their proper owners. 
“Yep. Come in,” Walter called out in response to my knocking.
I entered his office only far enough to be seen and not a step further. I didn’t know if Marshall wanted people to know about us, so I was prepared to make a quick exit if I needed to. “I have a delivery for Detective Marshall,” I said. 
He looked at me and smiled, then waved me in further. “Harper, this is Fiona Sparks. Fiona, this is Commissioner Harper.”
“Hi. It’s nice to meet you, sir,” I said. 
“You, too.” He looked at me over the top of his glasses. “You don’t happen to be related to Rodger Sparks, by any chance?” 
I felt speechless for a moment. I hadn’t heard anyone other than Mom say Dad’s name in months. Finally, I forced myself to nod. “Yes. He was my dad. How - how did you know?” 
“We went to college together. You’re the spitting image of him,” he said. “I was sorry to hear about him passing away. I lost my wife around two years ago as well. A brain aneurysm.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t get any easier.” 
“No, it doesn’t,” I agreed.
He looked at me for a moment longer, then back to Marshall, who was standing patiently with his hands clasped behind his back. He looked back at me briefly before taking the folder he was holding and tapped it against Marshall’s shoulder. “You know what? This can wait until tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll bring it by in the morning.” He left Walter and stopped beside me before leaving the office. “I’m very sorry about your father. Rodger was a horrible sport when he lost at cards, but other than that, he was a great guy. And probably the smartest man I ever met.”
I smiled slightly. “He was a horrible sport at cards.” 
He smiled back. “The worst.” He gave me a wink. “It was a pleasure seeing you.” 
“You, too.”
When he left, he closed the door behind him. I looked at Marshall as he walked towards me. “Did I interrupt something important?” I asked. 
“No. He was just asking about a cold case.”
“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to come in since he was here. Next time, if you’re talking to someone, would you rather I left your lunch in the break room?”
He stopped in front of me. He was so close. He smelled like coffee and Old Spice. I swallowed thickly, trying to meet his gaze as he looked down at me. He shook his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “No. I’d still like you to bring it to me, please. If that’s alright?” 
“Yeah, of course. I just don’t want to get in the way of your job.”
“You won’t,” he said. “But I’ve let my job get in the way of other things for too long, so maybe it’s time someone got in the way of it for a bit.” 
“You have an important job, though. If you were a boat salesman, I might feel a little differently about disrupting your work.” 
His smile grew as he tilted his head at me. “A boat salesman?” 
“I mean a job where it wouldn’t really matter all that much if you were distracted every once in a while. If someone doesn’t sell a boat, it’s not that big of a deal. But if you don’t solve a murder case...that has very real repercussions. I wouldn’t want to be a reason for something slipping by in a case.” 
He put his hand on my cheek, directing my eyes back to his. “That won’t happen,” he said. “I take my job seriously. That’s never been a problem for me. My problem has always been figuring out how to balance it with the rest of my life, which I never could, and I neglected a lot of people because of it. Especially Faye.” He shook his head. “I’m still not good at it. But I had a case back in the winter that...put Faye’s safety in jeopardy, among other things, and it made me realize that I need to put more of an effort in my life outside of this job. Despite how hard that is for me.” He stroked my cheek with his thumb. “You motivate me to slow down a bit. And that’s a good thing.”
I took my free hand and placed it over his, then turned my face slightly and placed a kiss on the inside of his wrist. “I would be happy to slow down with you,” I whispered. 
Marshall had a smile that somehow showed in his eyes more than his mouth, and that’s how he was looking at me right then. “I’d like that.” 
A knock on the door startled me. I took a step back, his hand falling from my cheek. He then ran it over his face, almost like he was trying to scrub the irritation of being interrupted off it. Then he folded his arms across his chest before calling out for whoever it was to come in.
The door opened and a man stepped up to the doorway. He was wearing plain clothes like Walter, so I assumed he was a detective, too. He all but ignored me as he and Walter spoke. Half of what they said was in a jargon I didn’t understand, so I just stood there, head down, waiting. After a few minutes, the guy left, only halfway closing the door as he did. When Marshall finally turned back to me, I could see that he was frustrated. I knew he wouldn’t admit it, but me being at his work right then was only going to cause more irritation with every interruption we had. 
“As much as I hate it, I should probably get back to the shop. We have a big order going out tomorrow, so there’s quite a lot to do today to prepare for it,” I said. “Plus, I have a date with a very handsome detective tonight that I want to get ready for.”
The frustration on his face seemed to melt away as he looked at me with a smirk. “Is it anyone I know?”
“Possibly. He does work in your unit.” 
“Is that so?” he asked. I nodded. “Well, if I see him around, I might have to have a talk with him.”
“And what would you say?” 
“I’d tell him that he better be good to you because you deserve to be treated well.” 
My stomach fluttered. “You can rest assured that he treats me very well. Better than any man ever has.”
“All those other men were idiots.”
I smiled. “Maybe so.” 
He shook his head. “Definitely so.” He reached out and took his lunch from my hand, then turned and placed it on a filing cabinet behind him. “Will you let me help you to your car now?” 
I nodded. “Yes, please.”
He put on his coat and followed me to the break room. He pulled my dolly for me, moving it like it was as light as a child’s toy. Even when we made it to the parking lot, he didn’t seem to have any issue with the wheels fighting against him. Then he picked it up and placed it in my trunk with ease, despite how I very often fought to get it back in. I thought about telling him that he was welcome to help me anytime he wanted, but I was afraid it wouldn’t come across as a joke and he would feel obligated to actually help. 
“Thank you. You made my morning a lot easier,” I said after I closed the trunk. I looked at him. “I guess I’ll see you around five-thirty?”
He nodded. “I’ll call you when I leave here, but yeah, I should be there by then,” he said. “And I promise it’ll only be the two of us and no cheap pizza.” 
“To be honest, I quite liked the pizza. It didn’t taste cheap. And I really, truly didn’t mind Faye joining us, but it'll be nice to have dinner with just you tonight,” I said. “But that reminds me - I put a copy of our cookie recipe for Faye in your lunch box.” 
He smiled. “Thank you. She’ll be very excited about that.”
“You’re welcome. And let her know if she has any issues with it, she can call or text me.” 
The crease between his eyebrows appeared as he looked at me thoughtfully. “Are you sure?” 
“Yeah. I’ve made them enough times over the last year and a half to make every mistake you can with them. If she has a problem, I can probably diagnose it over the phone.” 
“You don’t mind her having your number?”
I felt my facial expressions mirroring his, but from confusion. “Of course I don’t mind. As long as you’re okay with it,” I said. “Unless you think your ex-wife would mind? I don’t want to step on her toes or anything.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think Angie would mind for that purpose, and I don’t have a problem with it. But I don’t want you to feel obligated.”
“I don’t but I’ll leave it up to you. If you’d feel more comfortable being the middleman you can always call me for her.” I gave him a big smile. “And I can help you practice the whole talking thing. Then it’s a two birds with one stone kind of deal.” 
He smiled back, nodding his head. “And if she doesn’t need help?” 
“You can still call.” I shrugged. “As far as I’m concerned, you don’t have to have a reason for calling. If I’m not at work, I’m usually pretty free. I may be cooking, or watching ‘The Golden Girls’ with Mom, but that’s about it,” I said. “I’m afraid you’re courting quite a socially boring person.”
He laughed. “I’m not sure if you’ve caught on, but I’m not exactly a sociable person, either,” he said. “So perhaps we make a good fit for each other.”
“Perhaps so,” I agreed. “We can be selectively social together.” 
“Sounds good to me.” 
I let out a sigh and watched my breath turn to steam in front of me. “I better let you get back to your paperwork and I need to go help Darcy at the store. We have over fifty loaves of bread to bake before the end of the day, so depending on when I get home, you may have to deal with your date smelling like freshly baked bread.” 
He squinted slightly. “I’m not really opposed to that,” he joked with a smile that showed off the sharp ends of his canine teeth. 
I laughed. “Good to know.” 
He gave me a short hug, kissing my cheek as he pulled back. “I’ll see you this evening.” 
“I’m looking forward to it.
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kachulein · 3 years
Text
✧・゚:*Fave Groups Tag!✧・゚:*
I thought it would be cool to make a tag in which we all share something unique that connects us to our favourite group(s) that we don't (or not yet) have with another/other groups. Idk how to explain it but I promise it will make more sense after reading my examples. :')
Okay so, I decided to use Ateez, Enhypen, Stray Kids, The Boyz and TXT for this tag.
Ateez: A unique thing that connects me with Ateez is that I've been to a concert of theirs before. It was my first (and so far only) Kpop concert I've ever been to, and I've also had VIP tickets, so I could meet them during the Hi-Touch event. It's just so crazy to look back on it and realize I've actually experienced that and I actually go to meet the members. It still feels unreal, especially when I watch them through the screen nowadays and see how far they've come and how much they've grown. It was truly unforgettable and I still have a really cute memory with San and an intense one with Wooyoung lmaooo!! :') 💗
Enhypen: They're not the only group that I knew of before they debuted (I also knew about TXT and Stray Kids predebut, I can't remember for Ateez but I know that it wasn't the case for The Boyz, I only found out about them when "Boy" dropped) but what's unique with Enha is, that I've "created content" for them predebut and I've never ever done that for another group before. It was back in October(?) of last year, that I got an ask on @dreamyaqua to do a chart analysis for Heeseung and I was like "oh, I actually don't follow Enhypen and I haven't watched I-Land" but decided to give it a shot anyway. I thought it would be interesting to see if my astrology knowledge was good enough already to analyse someone I'm completely unfamiliar with and so I took that as a challenge. The responses I got from this post were so so sweet and definitely gave me a confidence boost! And also, I would've never thought that half a year later, my bestie would get me into Enhypen and that I'd count them to my fave groups now.😂💗
Stray Kids: Okay so, I don't think I've ever done either of these two things for another group so far... I haven't been a "proper stan" until July/August 2018 but back when Hellevator dropped, I got this song recommended to me on youtube and I loved it so much that I've kept up with SKZ's music as much as I've never kept up with the music of a group I don't stan. And also, there was once a time in which I stayed up until 6am, just so I could watch Stray Kids live on After School Club together with my friend. We were both so hyper due to a lack of sleep and it was just such a fun and memorable experience.💗 And a third thing is that I actually bought some of SKZ's Japanese releases which I've never bought from another group so far.🤔
The Boyz: Well...this is actually less of an experience with the whole group and rather just an experience with Kevin. In March of last year Kevin went live on the V app and I was watching his live (duh) and when he was answering some questions, I also wrote a comment and asked him something AND HE SAW IT AND REPLIED and I freaked out because that's never happened to me before. So yeah, that was one of those moments that made me incredibly happy and I'll never ever forget it.🤧💗 There's actually a second unique thing I could mention here but this is one that makes me incredibly sad lmao. So lo and behold, The Boyz is the only fave group of mine I don't own any albums of yet??? And I'm very adamant on changing that. But I tend to want to always buy a group's whole discography and since I don't have the money for all of that, I've shied away from ordering albums for them for the past year. Why am I like this- 🤚🏻😭
TXT: This is less of an actual experience... but, in my 5.5 years of being into Kpop, I've only once bought a Season's Greetings so far, and it was TXT's Season's Greetings for 2021💗 (I've just changed the calendar from September to October and that's what gave me the idea for this tag). A second unique thing is that for the first (and so far only) time, I entered a fansign raffle, it was for TXT. I wasn't selected which was to expect since I only bought 3 albums (all 3 versions of the Blue Hour album) but it's fine^^ (I might try again but this time with Enhypen, since I've already preordered the Dimension: Dilemma set from weverse shop,,, but I'm scared lmao). A third thing I could mention here is that I actually have a weverse magazine for TXT with an interview with each member in it! It's beautiful, the pictures are ethereal, and I will definitely use it to improve my Korean!! (ง'̀-'́)ง💗
of course, you don't have to do this if you think this is a dumb idea assfghdkdkl but I'm tagging: @marculees @interstellix @http-peachie @oddlittlefandomist @gyudenial and anyone else who'd like to do it~🥺💗
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unforth · 3 years
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Are there issues with svsss and consent (Just things I’ve heard I wanna know before I read it invade it’s rly not my thing lmfao) or are they more “issues” like in mdzs?
Hmm...okay, so I read SVSSS a bit ago, and pretty quickly, but the answer is basically...yes there are consent issues but I honestly think they’re actually more mild than in MDZS? But it’s also a little complicated, and some of them are different issues...
(spoilers under the read more)
Okay. So, on an overarching plot level, I can think of three potential things that might lead people to say there are consent issues related to the main ship, Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe. Note that I haven’t really seen any posts on this topic so I don’t, like, know what issues people single out? I’m pretty much just guessing.
1. Shen Qingqiu is an advanced cultivator and a teacher. Luo Binghe is considerably younger, and his student. This, obviously, could be seen as problematic. However, I personally didn’t feel it was (even though I’m personally sensitive to this dynamic and generally uncomfortable with it) for a few reasons:
a. Shen Qingqiu has absolutely no idea that Luo Binghe is crushing on him when they’re young. He’s as clueless as can be. (I’ll explain why when I get to “thing two that might make people think it’s problematic”). Like, to a reader who knows where things are going, it’s pretty darn obvious, but Shen Qingqiu is entirely fixated on a belief that Luo Binghe is developing a relationship with another disciple named Ning Yingying, and while he’s occasionally confused, like, “huh why did that happen?” he really is absolutely clueless. 
b. Then, for plot reasons, they’re separated for five years...and when Luo Binghe returns, Shen Qingqiu thinks Luo Binghe hates him (for  plot reasons), and then they’re separated AGAIN for another five years (or maybe it was 3? something like that) and only then does Shen Qingqiu finally realize he’s massively misunderstood literally everything. So...they haven’t had a student/teacher dynamic for about a decade by the time they actually start having a relationship.
c. While their apparent age difference is pretty big, their actual age difference isn’t, because...
2. Alright, so the basic premise of SVSSS is that a young man named Shen Yuan dies after reading a stag/harem novel, and then wakes up and discovers that he’s been transplanted into the novel he was reading...in the role of one of the villains. From that point forward, the older man “Shen Qingqiu” is actually Shen Yuan. Shen Yuan is still older than Luo Binghe, but less so...Luo Binghe is roughly 14 or 15 when the book starts, and Shen Yuan is probably 20 or 21. Now, that might be an awkward age difference if they started a relationship right away, but as I say above - years and years pass before anything happens. First, the story advances by about 4 years (give or take, it might be more even) before their first separation, and then ten more years pass before they get together. So at the point when Luo Binghe and Shen Yuan (in the body of Shen Qingqiu) actually get together, Luo Binghe is probably around 30 and Shen Yuan is probably around 36, which...that age difference is not significant between two adults, imo. 
Further, because Shen Yuan “knows” what happens in the novel, he also knows - it was a stag harem novel. So instead of seeing Luo Binghe’s behavior toward him and thinking, “oh no my student has a crush on me,” he spends ALL the time before the separation being like, “oh, Ning Yingying - she’s in his harem! Oh, that other character - also in his harem! Aw look, first meeting with a member of the harem! Oh oh look he’s talking to a harem member.” He has absolutely no fucking clue and it’s ridiculous.
However, all that said...Luo Binghe never actually finds out that Shen Yuan isn’t the same person as Shen Qingqiu, or that Shen Yuan is even in there. It’s clear in the extras that basically everyone who knew Shen Qingqiu figured out that something had changed and collectively decided... “well the change was for the better so uh let’s just not do anything about it okay?” Luo Binghe isn’t part of that conversation, so it could be argued that while Luo Binghe consented to be in a relationship with Shen Qingqiu, he never consented to be with Shen Yuan. It’s a weak argument, though, since Shen Yuan’s arrival is what derails the original harem plot of the “novel” and causes Luo Binghe to fall in love with Shen Qingqiu - so Luo Binghe never loved the original Shen Qingqiu, he always loved the Shen Yuan version of Shen Qingqiu. So...there is a minor consent issue here since Luo Binghe doesn’t know but it’s small.
3. Now, the third point also relates to the Shen Qingqiu/Shen Yuan divide. Shen Qingqiu BEFORE he becomes Shen Yuan is a nasty piece of work, and is highly abusive toward Luo Binghe. Early on, Shen Yuan is kinda...forced...to continue being abusive? Like, there’s this computer System that’s forcing Shen Yuan to “stay in character,” and he’ll literally die (again, for real and permanently this time) if he doesn’t do things at least somewhat like Shen Qingqiu would. But as soon as he “levels up” high enough that he is “allowed” to behave out of character compared to Shen Qingqiu, he stops being abusive and goes out of his way to help and support Luo Binghe. Now, despite that, I could see a case being made that the weird combination of “highly abusive toward” and then “nice” could be seen as manipulative and gaslighty, so that would open up another potential avenue for consent issues.
Now, on a specific “things that happen” event, all of the ACTUAL consent issues are in the other direction - Luo Binghe toward Shen Qingqiu. Cause Luo Binghe is...kinda a whiny bitch...and he is not very good at taking no for an answer. Like, at one point he literally kidnaps Shen Qingqiu and holds him prisoner. Actually wait, he does that at two separate points. And he always kinda...bullies...Shen Qingqiu in a way that pushes into Shen Qingqiu’s comfort zone.
Further, their first time is flat-out fuck or die (Luo Binghe is the top in the book and Shen Qingqiu is the bottom). That’s explicit, it’s not played as romantic, and Shen Qingqiu doesn’t enjoy it and doesn’t pretend to enjoy it. That’s not to say he’s unwilling - by that point it’s fairly clear he’d like to have sex with Luo Binghe in other circumstances, but it’s very rough and injures him pretty badly, there’s no prep, etc., so it’s not a good experience and it’s not treated as one, but Shen Qingqiu does volunteer because it’s important to him to prevent the “die” part. Luo Binghe feels bad afterwards. Reading it actually gave me more appreciation of MDZS because the scene made it clear that MXTX really does understand consent in ways that hadn’t been clear to me when I read the translation of MDZS.
In general...these two communicate for shit, and so things are never as clear cut as they should be. Also, at least for me personally, I never really fully “bought” that Shen Qingqiu was in love with Luo Binghe. Like, he’s affectionate and indulgent, but in romantic love? I dunno. So in that regard their being a thing always left me a little...unsure...maybe? But that’s a personal preference, and I’m sure there are others who felt differently, and it also might read differently in a different translation or in the original Chinese.
As an aside, there is a side ship which isn’t featured prominently in the novel but is significantly developed in the extras (like, a lot of the extras are literally about them, instead of the main ship). ngl...I wasn’t very interested in them so I didn’t read all their extras? So I couldn’t say for sure? But certainly, those two have some huge power level differences that I could see leading to consent issues, and also, one of them is also from “the real world” and transported in the “novel” (he’s the author) so that also adds a layer of complication.
Sorry if this is confusing...it’s not the easiest book to explain to someone unfamiliar with it. 
tl:dr, I personally didn’t think the consent issues were severe; the structural ones (ie, age difference and teacher/student) might LOOK severe on the surface but aren’t as the story is executed, and the “actual” consent issues (ie the fuck or die) are handled, at least in my opinion, better and more clearly than the ones in MDZS were.
Everyone else reading this...did I miss anything? I can’t think of anything else but my memory is so fucking shot that I can’t say I trust me as much as I’d like to.
Overall, I think it’s my least favorite of the three novels, not because it’s bad but because it just doesn’t quite feel...finished. Like, it’s such an interesting idea, and MXTX does a masterful job of twisting tropes throughout it, and more than either of the other books, it improved my opinion of her as a writer, but it feels a little incomplete, like maybe it was more story than she was actually ready to write? Like...she had this idea and she wasn’t quite a good enough writer to see it through to it’s logical conclusion yet, but all the pieces were there, so the potential is through the rough but the execution is a little lacking. Especially, the ending felt a bit rushed/abrupt to me. Then again, I feel that way constantly so some of that was probably me, I like a lot of denouement at the end of a story. (My favorite is TGCF, with MDZS in second and SVSSS in a close third...purely as a novel I didn’t like MDZS all that much but some of that was probably a translation issue.)
ANYWAY.
I’ll stop now.
If, after all that, you’re interested in reading it, I read two translations:
1. This translation, hosted on Tumblr, is really good but still a work in progress (they’ve released like four chapters since I read it in October.) I thought it was excellent and really enjoyed it.
2. Since that one wasn’t finished, I read the rest and the extras here. It was also good, but not quite as good in my opinion.
Hope this helps!
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