#so the raleigh is probably the most likely to see action

[oceom]

The IPS-N mechs were originally a bit ramshackle for my tastes, but I've definitely warmed up to them~

Now to actually get a group so I can use one of these cool frames....

#lancer rpg #lancer ttrpg #lancer #mecha art #mecha #ocean draws #oc #lancer pilot #lancer oc #Personally wanting to use the blackbeard simply bc of the pilot I drew for it #but multiattacking is so good #so the raleigh is probably the most likely to see action

[misshoneyimhome]

Let it go | Frederik Andersen

Tags: boyfriend!freddie, Freddiexfem!reader, light relationship fight, smut (after **)

A/n: there’s probably a lot of stories like this floating around, but I just felt like giving it a go with my own version 😉

Warnings: smut 18+ (no smut before **), unprotected sex 

Don’t let them in Don’t let them see Be the good guy, you always have to be Conceal don’t feel Don’t let them know.

*

Tick. Tock.

The seconds ticked away.

Tick. Tock.

You could feel your heart sinking deeper in your chest. The Canes were trailing 4-0, and there was only a minute left of the game. You already had a sense of how the evening would play out at home.

Freddie would probably be sulking. Blaming himself for the loss. He wouldn't want to discuss it, but you'd sense his frustration radiating from him. He was good at concealing his emotions after a defeat; he'd shrug it off as though it didn't bother him. But, in reality, when it was just the two of you, he didn't simply brush it aside. Despite his repetitive mantra of "it's okay, we'll do better next time," his actions and mannerisms told a different story. He'd pace around, his steps firm; he'd grunt at minor things that wouldn't typically bother him; and he’d almost act cold and distant.

All you wished was for him to let it out somehow. Even get angry if that’s what he needed. Let off some steam and punch something. You knew he'd eventually calm down and revert to being the caring and wonderful boyfriend he always was.

So, as the final seconds passed and the game ended, you let out a sigh.

Here we go again, you thought to yourself.

After the game, you waited with the other partners for the players to wrap up in the locker room. You exchanged conversations, discussing how to comfort your partners; everyone understood that your role was the most challenging. Freddie was the goalie, and even though all the players shared the blame for a loss, they all knew that Freddie took it especially hard. And regardless of what he said, he didn't just dismiss it.

Still waiting for Freddie, you moved around after saying goodbye to Rosa. He was always the last to finish, especially after a defeat. When he finally stepped out of the locker room, he greeted you with a quick kiss before you both headed to the car park. And, as usual, the car ride was silent. His gaze was fixed on the road as he navigated through streets of Raleigh. Even when you entered your house, he remained silent.

"Alright, come on," you said softly but firmly.

Freddie turned to face you in the dining room.

"Talk to me, Freddie," you continued, giving him a concerned look. “Come on, hit me…”

You gestured with your arms, lightly raising them, and placing them on your hips.

Freddie simply shrugged. "There's nothing to talk about."

"That's not true, and we both know it."

"What do you mean?" He asked with a questioning expression. "We lost, that's it - we'll do better next time."

And there it was, the phrase of all phrases.

"What do you mean, what do I mean?" you stepped closer to him, using your hands to emphasise a point. "Freddie, I can tell you're angry - you always are after a loss, even though you try to act like it doesn't bother you… but I know it does."

Your tone wasn't confrontational, but you still felt the need to stand your ground and call his bluff. You couldn't handle his passive behaviour anymore, especially when he clearly did care.

"I'm not angry," he attempted to defend himself, but you saw right through him.

"Yes, you are," you spoke softly.

"I'm not - and even if I were, what do you want me to do?" his voice was gradually getting louder. "It's not like I can change the outcome of the game."

"I want you to express your feelings and admit that you care, instead of pretending you don't when you clearly do," you explained.

"How?" he shrugged.

"Just let it out… whatever you're thinking and feeling right now," you said a bit more forcefully. "Alright, I'll help you get started… like, you're frustrated because you played brilliantly tonight, making incredible saves - yet your team couldn't score," you said calmly, offering him a reassuring smile to encourage him.

Freddie let out a deep sigh.

"Well… yes, yeah, maybe - I am a little annoyed that they couldn't score a single goal…" he began.

Good, that's a start, you thought.

"- and it's frustrating," you added, urging him to continue.

"And it's frustrating… a lot, when I put in effort to stop pucks and they can't get the damn puck in the net!" His voice grew louder, and you could sense him beginning to release the pent-up emotions.

"You feel like they're not backing you up…"

"Exactly! Where's my defence to support me? It's as if it's all on me," his tone grew stronger and more impassioned.

"Like they're relying solely on you…"

"Yes! And then when I can't save every puck because there's no one defending…"

"You feel like the loss is completely your fault," you finished his thought.

"Exactly…" he sighed. He slowly exhaled, a sense of relief washing over him as he released the built-up frustration.

"Freddie," you spoke softly, taking a step closer as you stood together in the dining room. "It's not only your fault - you’re part of a team."

Freddie let out another sigh and nodded. "I know… it's just-"

"Just what? You save shots, they score goals - that's how you win… as a team."

He nodded again. "You're right," he said, looking into your eyes.

"I know I am," you smiled. "I just need for you to get it through your thick skull."

Freddie chuckled. He knew he could always count on you to make him smile and laugh, even after a defeat like tonight.

He pulled you into his arms as you stood closer together in the dining room. You wrapped your arms around his neck, drawing him closer until your foreheads touched.

"I'm sorry, y/n/n…" he said in a low voice.

"For what?" you pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes.

"For all of this… for struggling to express myself… for leaning on you with all my frustrations."

You couldn't help but let out a light chuckle, which earned you a slightly confused look from Freddie.

"Babe, that's what I'm here for - I'm your girlfriend, remember?" you replied playfully. "We support each other. That's how relationships work."

Freddie's furrowed brow transformed into a wide smile. "What have I done to deserve such an amazing girlfriend?" he smiled.

"Hmm… I'm not entirely sure," you teased, causing Freddie to laugh too.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, but he pulled you back into his arms, and your laughter slowly faded. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

"Yes, but I don't mind a reminder," you smiled.

Freddie leaned in, his lips met yours in a tender kiss. The kiss was gentle, and then he began trailing kisses down your neck, leaving light touches on your skin.

"Like this?" he mumbled between kisses.

"Mmm… just like that."

**

His lips returned to yours, and the kiss quickly ignited with passion. He placed a hand behind your head, drawing you closer, before sliding his tongue into your mouth. You granted him access, and your tongues engaged in a dance of dominance that he quickly won. You could sense that perhaps there were deeper emotions, that needed to be let out, as Freddie’s hands moved to your lower back. He was using his large frame to back you up against the dining table, and with one smooth movement, he effortlessly lifted you to sit on the table placing himself between your legs.

The kiss grew more heated, and Freddie’s eagerness was starting to show. He moved his lips back down onto your neck, and lightly bid and sucked your skin, which made you let out light moans. Hands were everywhere and it didn’t take you long to remove his shirt. And he did the same with yours. He unclaspped your bra, and his mouth was quick to pay attention to each of your breasts. As the intensity of the work of his mouth increased, so did your moans. 

“Please Freddie,” you almost whimpered.

He kept on kissing. 

“Please what?” He asked into your skin. 

“I need you,” you whispered.

And as if your words worked like a magic spell, Freddie took a small step back and removed his trousers and boxers. His large cock stood proudly, and with eyes full of pure lust, he focused his attention on you. He opened your jeans, and as you lifted yourself lightly, he pulled them down your legs, along with your underwear and tossed them across the room. 

Your lips met once again and using his large hands he toyed with your entrance. You let out a small whimper, making him aware of your impatience.

“So needy,” he chuckled into the kiss. 

But it was all it took before he pushed two large fingers inside of your warm, wet cunt, which had you let out a deep breath and soft moan. He kept moving his fingers in and out as he continued to kiss you passionately. Using his other hand as well, his thumb circled your clit, and as he curled his fingers slightly upwards - a trick he’d learned recently, he hit your most sensitive spot, which had you toss your head back as you were so close, your nails digging into the skin on his shoulders. Biting his lower lip, he was determined to push you over the edge, and with his name on your lips, you let out a loud moan, and realised yourself reaching an intense orgasm. 

Freddie smiled at his doing, as you were coming down from your high, but you didn’t have enough time to calm down completely before Freddie was ready to continue. He grabbed your lower back and pulled you to the very edge of the table. His large body automatically made your legs spread even further, and slowly he pushed himself inside of you. Moaning out loudly, you could feel him fill you up so well, as your right walls greeted his large cock with a warm hug. 

Freddie let out a little moan as he placed his head in the crook of your neck before he started to move his hips. He wrapped one hand behind your neck and used the other to keep your hips in place and close to him. It didn’t take him long before he increased his speed, and your suspicions of his need to let go off more of his frustrations were about to be confirmed. 

His thrusts were becoming deeper and rougher, and his moans and breathing were increasing. In this heated moment, romance was long gone; but you couldn’t complain. His grunts were a sign of him fully committing to the intimate session and as he was hitting your deepest spots, you could feel he was getting closer. And so were you. 

You could feel the pleasure rush through your entire body, as Freddie kept going and had no intentions of holding back. Moving his hand so he’d hold your both sides of your hips making sure to keep you in place, he speeded up and you couldn’t take it much longer, lowering her upper body down onto the table, providing him better access. He was rough. He hit deep. And you moaned out loudly, arching your back and tilting your head. It was pure lust. The sounds of your moans and skin slapping were filling the room, as the temperature was rising as well. 

He didn’t make love. He was fucking you. Hard. 

And you almost screamed out his name as you reached your second orgasm of the night. The intensity was almost too much to bear. Fucking your through your euphoria, Freddie came hard as well, releasing every last drop of anger and frustrations as his warm liquids filled you up inside.

Your breathings were heavy as you both stood still and tried to re-gain strength and control of your breaths, coming down from your high. You felt your body was numb and legs were like jelly, as Freddie slowly pulled himself out of you. 

“Shiiit….” You breathed out, slowly rising from the table to sit. 

“That was intense,” Freddie lightly chuckled. 

“Yeah… you feel better, babe?” You smiled, still trying to catch your breath. 

He softly nodded. “Yeah - perhaps I really did need to let go of something.”

You both shared a soft moment of amusement in silence. 

“Care for a shower,” you asked and once again he softly nodded, before he made you wrap your legs around his waist and carried you to the bathroom.

#frederik andersen imagine #freddie andersen imagine #frederik andersen #freddie andersen #carolina hurricanes #nhl player imagine #carolina hurricanes imagine #nhl hockey player

[butterflyintochains]

How It All Began

A view back to the past, I've alluded to the 2011 All Star Game in my past TangerKarlsson fics, like, a lot. It is the hinge of everything for this little brainrot I've had for them since last august. So... Let's go back there, to Raleigh 2011.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Some say the tiny flapping of a butterfly's wings can cause a tornado half a world away. A tiny action can have massive consequences for one's life. Some say that there's one single moment where you find everything you've ever needed in life. Kris Letang doesn't quite know if he believes all that, he knows he's excited to be in Raleigh for the 2011 All Star Game. Sid and Geno are at home with injuries, but he's got Flower, and that's even better, someone to be a menace with for a weekend. It's a bit sunnier in Raleigh than it is back home in Pittsburgh. They're driven to their hotel, and check in for the weekend, then head down to the rink for a practice session. Kris notices the Sedin twins chatting in a little conclave with the other Swedes by one of the benches. He and Flower go to hang with Giroux, Briere, and St Louis. ''Bonjour, gents.'' Martin says.

Flower goes to set up at the net, sliding his blocker on. ''Hi, Marty. Looking forward to the draft tomorrow?''

Martin laughs. ''Not even a little bit, I know I want a Sedin, both if I can convince Lindstrom.''

Claude remarks, a wry grin on his face. ''Yeah, Vancouver would riot if you split them up.''

Kris jokes. ''Just like Philly would if you and Danny were split up, don't lie, Giroux.'' He keeps it to a last name basis, Sid would kill him for getting too friendly with Giroux. ''Got me there, Letang.'' Giroux says.

The French-Canadians chat some more, Martin gains a weird look on his face, and says to Kris. ''Tanger, I think Karlsson is looking at you.'' Really? Kris slowly turns to face Karlsson, who just shoots him a bright smile. Kris feels something in his chest, and swallows through some dryness in his throat. Probably just nerves for this weekend, right?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The draft comes, and it's like being eighteen all over again. While they're all getting seated, Kris finds himself looking for Erik Karlsson again, secretly hoping they end up on the same team this weekend. Erik catches his eye, and they share a slight smile across the seating row. Flower, being annoying, elbows Kris. ''Eyes up front, ami, the show's starting.''

The draft kicks off with Staal picking his teammate Cam Ward, and Lindstrom picking Stamkos. The third picks are the most heated, with the two captains splitting the inseparable Sedin twins up, Daniel to Staal, Henrik to Lindstrom. The twins laugh it off, but everyone can see how weird it looks to see them parted. Flower is taken with Team Lindstrom's ninth pick. Team Stall make their twelfth pick. ''With our twelfth pick, Team Staal select, from the Pittsburgh Penguins - Kris Letang.''

Kris takes his jersey, and his seat, sharing a cheeky glance with Flower. Claude Giroux, of all people, joins him one pick later. Then, the fourteenth pick comes. Lindstrom taking Martin Havlat. Eric Stall steps up to the mic. ''With our fourteenth pick, Team Staal selects, from the Ottawa Senators - Erik Karlsson.''

Erik makes his way up to the stage, a bundle of nerves in his stomach for some reason. Erik sits himself down next to Kris Letang. They share a glance, and a smile, and turn their attention back to the draft. They're on live television, after all.

After the draft, they all go for dinner and drinks. Kris and Erik sit together, and talk over burgers. ''My first all star game, a bit nervous for it, actually.'' Erik admits.

Kris nods, sipping his beer. ''Same, we can be debutantes together, I guess.''

Erik smiles. ''I think that sounds fun.''

They end up getting so lost in their conversation, that their captains for the weekend need to remind them about tomorrow. ''Northern Sweden sounds beautiful.'' Kris says as they make their way back to the hotel. Erik smiles wistfully, clearly homesick. ''Yeah, it is, especially at this time of year. I miss it sometimes, the quiet of it all.'' Kris nods, and says. ''Yeah, I sometimes feel the same about Val D'Or, it was only two years, but the place is so friendly.''

Back in his hotel room, Erik is struck by something. He barely knows Kris, they just met properly tonight! How can it possibly feel like he's known Kris his entire life? He gives his head a shake, bigger fish to fry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Skills Competition is the following afternoon. Kris is due to skate in the first round of Fastest Skater against Duncan Keith. The boys skate out for warmups, Kris catching Erik's eye from across the rink. Giving him that warm feeling he had at the restaurant last night. After warmups, they head to the benches, Kris sitting himself down next to Erik. ''So, what d'you say my odds against Keith are?''

Erik thinks it over, smirking as Kris is left to wait. ''Well, you're younger and faster, and skating backwards. But, you've got that gorgeous hair that might slow you down.''

Kris downs some water. ''Gorgeous hair, huh?'' Erik looks him in the eye, their eyes the exact same shade of brown. ''Just stating facts, Kris.''

Kris nods, and goes to take his place. He waits for his signal, and shoots off backwards around the rink, effortlessly gliding along the ice. He's on the top pair for a reason, right? He leaves Keith in his smoke, and takes the win for his team. Erik remarks, a slight pink tinge to his cheeks. ''Well, how was that?'' Kris asks.

Erik clears his throat. ''Impressive.''

Team Staal win the Fastest Skater, and Accuracy Shooting - with Daniel Sedin pulling off a clean sweep of the targets. Ovechkin also nails the Breakway Challenge.

At dinner that night, after Team Staal win the Skills competition, Flower leans over to Kris, and says to him. ''I see you're warming up to Karlsson. Anything gonna come of it?'' Kris looks over to Erik, who is happily chatting to the Swedes. ''I don't know.''

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The game itself is the following day. The two teams get ready, and hit the ice one last time before this weekend is over. Warmups are over, and the game begins. Kris finds it weird to be on a different team from Flower, there's something wrong feeling about seeing Flower across the ice. He, Sid, and Geno belong in front of Flower, not across from him. But, it's just for this hour, so that's fine. Ovechkin scores barely a minute into the first period. Paul Stastny following up soon after. Claude Giroux nets one to put Team Staal up 4-0 midway through the first period. But, Team Lindstrom quickly settle in to level the score 4-4 before the end of the period. During intermission, Erik asks Kris. ''You okay, Kris?''

Kris nods, stretching his back out. ''Yeah, it's just weird to not have Flower in the net behind me.''

They get back to work, Sharp getting them back ahead quickly. Five minutes later, Daniel Sedin and Zdeno Chara feed Kris for a goal to widen the lead to 6-4. He skates back to the bench, and sits down next to Erik. In all, the second period ends at 7-6.

The third period gets going Eric Staal tying the score to 7-7. Daniel Sedin and Alex Ovechkin feed Kris for his second goal. ''Hatty watch, Kris?'' Erik asks him.

Kris smirks, he's never scored a hattrick, but it would be funny if his first was in an all star game. ''Hopefully.''

It's not to be, Team Lindstrom take the game 11-10. But, Sharp gets MVP for the weekend.

After the boys are back in their suits, Erik scribbles something down on a strip of paper. He presses it in Kris' hand. ''Call me if you want to, we're rivals again as of tomorrow.''

Kris nods, and does the same, handing the slip over to Erik. ''Here's my number. Call me when you're back in Ottawa.'' He says, adding. ''Y'know, we're only rivals again come tomorrow, as far as anyone's concerned, we're still teammates. Wanna get out of here?''

Erik visibly swallows, but a smile rises on his face. ''Sure.'' They sneak back to the hotel, hoping no one notices them as they do. They opt for using Kris' room, and lock the door behind themselves.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They check their teams' schedules after breakfast the next morning before it's time to leave for their separate cities. Their teams play against each other on the 15th of March. As well as both teams having a very brief couple of days off in mid February. But, Pittsburgh are on the road then, while Ottawa are at home. They arrange to get together when their teams do, and head down for their cars. Kris gets a look from Flower. ''Well, care to explain what that was all about?''

Kris just simply says. ''Not really.'' He loves Flower like a brother, but there are certain things that must remain with him. Same goes for Sid and Geno once they're home. Besides, barely anything has happened, why get everyone all excited, and alert the media, when they've only spent one night together?

Kris and Flower arrive home in Pittsburgh. and catch up with Sid and Geno for training the next morning. Sid notices how happy Kris looks, happier than usual, and asks Flower. ''Flower, is Tanger okay?'' Flower nods, smiling brightly. ''Yeah, he made a friend, that's all.''

Geno asks, cheeky as always. ''He's not replacing us, is he, Legenda?'' Kris smirks, occupying himself with some puck handling. Oh, if only Geno knew the half of it. ''No one can replace you three, G, promise.'' That little crisis averted, the core get on with some shooting drills on Flower. Kris finds himself looking forward tot he 15th of March already. But, he'll not rush anything, that can only blow up in his face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ottawa 2012

This is not going to be fun, Kris grimly thinks to himself during training ahead of the game this afternoon. Sure, he's in Ottawa, and him and Erik are in the same place for the first time since summer. But, he's got Geno with him too. He has no idea if Geno suspects anything, or if he's going to start asking the uncomfortable questions. Erik sidles up to Kris, seemingly equally anxious about his own teammates figuring them out this weekend. ''Do you think they know anything?'' Erik asks him.

Kris takes a deep breath in and lets it go. ''I don't know. I think Geno is too busy talking to Datsyuk. As for your guys, what do you think?'' Erik fiddles with his stick, busying his hands. ''No idea, Spez might be too occupied with media, Danny is basically my brother, so, if he suspects us, he's not saying anything.''

Kris nods, this last year has been so much fun for them both, but he's scared of the media attention they'll inevitably get if this all comes out. ''Cool, I'm fine keeping this between us for now, aren't you?'' Erik chuckles, they've had this conversation probably fifty times by now. ''Yeah, like you said when we were in Portugal this summer, look how everyone monitors Sid and Geno. The entire hockey world knows about them.''

Kris nods, he's had to see that for the last four years, the stress it sometimes brings up with two of his three best friends. That press intrusion makes him sick. ''Okay, good, just so we're on the same page.''

Erik assures him. ''We're alright, Kris, don't overthink things.''

The game comes, and Geno takes an assist from Iginla for 2-0 for Team Chara. Kris has the honour of assisting a Henrik Sedin goal later on in the first period. Alfredsson gets an unassisted goal midway through the second, and then takes assists from both Sedin twins for another goal just two minutes later. That one has the entire arena lit up. Team Alfredsson end up losing despite best efforts 12-9 to Team Chara.

The following day is the Skills Competition, with Fastest Skater being the first event of the day. Kris sits with Erik, they're both in this challenge, Kris is up against Brian Campbell. Kris fist bumps Erik, and takes his place on the starting line. He shoots off, skating forwards this time. That was fun in Raleigh last time, but the novelty would wear off. He crosses the finish line first, and skates back to the bench.

Erik goes fourth against Marian Hossa. ''Good luck.'' Kris says. Erik clips his helmet on, and says. ''Thanks.'' He takes his place, and waits for the signal. He takes off for his lap, leaving Hossa in his dust as he goes, this is his building, he won't lose here. He crosses the line, taking a massive round of applause from his home crowd. ''Bon travail, Erik.'' Kris says in french.

Erik says. ''Thank you, Kris.'' He suddenly gets an idea, if they're going to go forward, shouldn't they know how to talk to each other? ''Kris, can you maybe teach me French?''

Kris beams at him, his face lighting up as he does. ''I could kiss you right now, you know? Yes, of course I can, I'd love to. Can I ask you for a favour too?''

Erik nods, heart racing with happiness already. ''Yeah, of course.'' Kris asks, seeming nervous at first. ''Can you teach me Swedish while I teach you French?''

Erik clears his throat, feeling a bit overcome. ''Yeah, can't wait to hear your accent already.''

After the skills competition is over, they head back to Erik's apartment, an unspoken agreement between them. They're going to be learning each other's languages now, they both know what that means. But, for some odd reason, neither wants to say it. ''Erik, do we start putting labels on this now? I'm ready if you are.'' Kris asks.

Erik takes his hand. ''I think that'd be nice.'' Kris nods, ecstatic at finally getting to have what Sid and Geno have. Kris had no idea if this would go anywhere, when they had that weekend in Raleigh. But, they're both so excited to see where this goes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summer 2012, Montreal

Summer is finally here, at long last. After a letdown of a regular season for Erik, and a letdown in the playoffs for Kris. Their second summer together now, but their first as an official couple. They told Flower and Alfredsson about a week ago, but both are under strict orders not to tell anyone else. They know this is not going to be easy, a long distance relationship, but they're ready to make this work. Erik's eyes sting as he wakes up next to Kris. The july sunlight offensively bright. He grumbles, and rolls over to face Kris. Still deep asleep. They'll be going over to Sweden for a couple of weeks soon. Erik sighs, and gets up to get the day going, leaving his partner to sleep.

He gets on with breakfast, Kris' house in Montreal already feeling like home away from home. Kris comes down while he's cooking, and gets the coffee going. ''We should probably pack today.'' Erik says while they eat. Kris nods, clearly looking forward to Sweden. ''Yeah, anything I need to know about Sweden?''

Erik says. ''Treat the place like you do Canada, and you'll be fine.'' Kris nods. Who knew a weekend in Raleigh could lead to this?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was complex to write, that's for sure. But, this is the genesis of the relationship that set the 2023/24 locker room alight. Erik is, of course, still with the Senators here, so this was difficult to figure out. It's so much easier when they're on the same team.

Anyway, this is the fun and light third of a mini trilogy within the grander narrative. The next part is the angsty one. I'll begin work on that tomorrow, and hopefully have it done soon enough. I'll not give too much away, but it's not gonna be fun.

Enjoy!

#tangerkarlsson

[fandoms-x-reader]

Adrenaline Rush - Chapter 1 Roman Reigns x Reader

You just got the career of your dreams - being a wrestler in WWE. On the night before you start your job, you end up having a one-night stand. But, that one-night stand ends up being no other than Roman Reigns - now your coworker. What's even worse is that when you join WWE, the officials want you to work with the Shield.

"Another please," you told the bartender as you tapped your finger against your now empty glass. The bartender gave you a small smile as he asked, "Are you upset or celebrating?" You gave him a small smirk before replying, "Celebrating. I got a new job."

"Well, then, congratulations. Next one is on the house," the bartender stated, sliding your now-full glass back to you. You nodded your head in thanks as a response before taking a drink, feeling the slight burn of the alcohol.

Usually, you would be having a drink with your friends, but you left them behind. You left everything behind. You were an up-and-coming wrestler who had just been offered a job by WWE, arguably the most-renowned wrestling company. You were so excited because it was everything you had been working towards. But, unfortunately, it was a traveling job, so it meant leaving behind many family and friends in your hometown. It was a huge change, but you were happy about it, and you knew your family and friends were supporting you every step of the way.

As you were beginning to feel the alcohol kick in, three men entered the bar, laughing loudly. They seemed close - like they were brothers. You watched as the three of them sat down and you couldn't help but stare at them. One had short light brown hair with blue eyes. He wore a leather jacket and jeans. The one next to him had long black hair and dark brown eyes. He was wearing a T-shirt with jeans. He seemed the most relaxed out of everyone. Lastly, there was a larger man with long black hair and brown eyes as well. You could tell there was something different about him by the way he dressed and carried himself, but you couldn't quite place your finger on what it was.

You felt like you recognized them from somewhere, but you couldn't quite make out where from. You didn't realize how long you had been staring at the trio until the larger one made eye contact with you.

You decided not to be rude, so you gave him a small smile before returning your attention to the drink in front of you. It was only a few minutes later when you felt someone sit down next to you at the bar. "Hey," a man said in a deep voice.

You turned your head to see that sure enough, it was the man from the table. "Hi," you replied with a smile. "Can I buy you a drink?" he asked. Normally, you weren't the type to go out to a bar and meet a guy, but this guy was all sorts of charming, so you couldn't help yourself as you replied, "Why not."

He smiled at you as he flagged the bartender and asked him for his own drink and a refill of yours. The bartender smirked at you and gave you a wink which made you blush, but you quickly brushed it off.

"So, are you from around here?" he asked you. You shook your head no and replied, "Actually I should probably warn you that I won't be in town for very long, so this won't go past tonight." The man let out a small chuckle before telling you, "I travel a lot too, let's just see where the night goes, okay?" You nodded your head in agreement, believing that was the best course of action.

"I'm Roman by the way," he told you, offering his hand out to you. "Y/N," you replied, shaking his hand. You should have known right there, and you weren't sure if it was the alcohol that was affecting you or if you just weren't thinking clearly - either way, you didn't realize that he was soon to be your coworker.

"What brings you to Raleigh?" Roman asked you. "I just got a job," you replied honestly. "A job? That sounds like you would be staying here for a while," Roman responded. "It's more of a traveling job. I'm just meeting up with the boss here in Raleigh before they move on to the next city," you explained.

"Interesting, I have a traveling job too," he told you, trying to relate to you. "Is it hard to always be on the road?" you asked him. You had always dreamed of being in WWE, but now that the time had actually come, you weren't sure how you were going to handle it.

"Sometimes, but I mostly travel with my best friends, and that makes it a lot better," Roman replied, motioning towards the two men who were sitting at the table. You looked over at them and realized that they had been staring at you and Roman intensely. They quickly looked away when they realized they had been caught and you couldn't help but laugh at them,

"Have you been to the park down the road yet?" Roman asked you. "No, I haven't really had much time to do anything here yet," you responded. "What? Alright, come on," he told you, standing up from the bar and throwing down some cash on the bar counter. The bartender came and collected the cash, noting that Roman had paid for your tab too.

You smiled and decided you only live once, so you got up as well, following Roman out of the bar. The two of you walked down the street side by side making small talk until you reached the park that Roman was talking about.

"Wow," you breathed out, taken aback by what you were looking at. It was nearing the holidays, so the park was beautifully decorated with lights, and in the center of the park stood a fountain that was absolutely gorgeous.

You and Roman walked around the park, talking about different stories from your past. He made you laugh harder than you've laughed in a long time, and you were genuinely enjoying just being in his presence.

When the two of you were done at the park, Roman asked if you wanted to go back to his hotel room. You could tell that he wasn't pressuring you in any way, and if you had said no, he would have let it go. He was acting like a perfect gentleman, and he was extremely attractive, so you agreed to go back to his hotel room, and the two of you spent the rest of the night together.

#roman reigns #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns imagine #the shield #the shield x reader

[csykora]

A thought about meaningful change

I don’t want to distract from the most recent thing Benn did. I’m going to be talking about several different things, and some might seem smaller than others: I know. I’m not saying that the newest thing isn’t important enough on its own or that everything’s on the same level. But I think patterns can be useful.

(I have also made myself sick with nerves a couple times so I’m posting this as is: sorry for typos, and while I’ll stand behind my ideas there may be some sentences that are a little long or awkwardly worded).

Back in 2015, Jame Benn and Tyler Seguin were doing a radio interview.

Some of you might be thinking, “You want to talk about THIS, AGAIN?” Yes. More of you are probably thinking, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Yeah, that’s what I want to talk about.

cw for discussions of sexual harassment, incest, homophobia, bullying, misogyny and transmisogyny, transphobia

So during this interview, one of the radio hosts asked Benn if he and his brother were ever road roommates. Benn said no, and the host commented that Henrik and Daniel Sedin probably roomed together.

“Well yeah…that’s the Sedins,” Seguin said.

“Who knows what else they do together?" Benn said. Everyone laughed.

“Seriously,” Seguin said.

"Dude, it's creepy," the radio hosts said, "In fact, it's a good example to future brothers in the NHL on how not to do things." Then they reassured Benn, “In no way am I implying that you have a Sedin-type vibe going about you.”

Benn and Seguin laughed. The conversation continued, calling the Sedins creepy for wearing similar facial hair, leaving nearby and spending too much time together.

When asked pointblank, “Are the Sedins weird?” Benn answered, “I don’t know. I can’t say.”

To finish the sentence he didn’t: he was implying that the Sedin brothers fuck each other.

Now, these were shock jockeys. They were almost certainly hoping Benn and Seguin would say something homophobic. That said, even shock jockeys pre-screen an interview. They’re not going to invite just anyone on the air and try this with them, because all it takes is someone saying, “I don’t know what you mean,” or “No, I actually respect Dan and Henke a lot as my colleagues” to ruin that set up. If a shock jockey thinks you’re a mark, you’ve probably said something off-air that made them think you’re a mark. And if they dug a pit in front of him, Benn is still the one who decided to stick his dick in it and make things overtly sexual.

After, the Stars stated that Benn had “reached out” the Sedins to apologize. Seguin did not reach out but was “included” in whatever Benn wrote or said. Neither of them gave a public explanation or apology. As far as I can tell the Sedins never commented on whether they received that message, what sort of apology it was, or whether they accepted it. Henrik Sedin’s only comment was, “I think it says more about them than it does about us.”

Ways that homophobia is working here:

-the idea that two men having any degree of physical or emotional closeness, even family members, is suspicious.

-Benn roomed with his brother. Course he did. The hosts spell out what he was afraid of: that the other men in the room might think he had the wrong vibe. He was so afraid of them thinking he had unmanly vulnerabilities like liking his own brother that he misrepresented the situation and pushed someone else forward.

-the idea that a man having any relationship to another man’s physical body or appearance, is suspicious.

Dressing or looking too similar to another man—which means you’ve paid attention to how another man’s body looks in order to copy him, like you’re trying to take ownership of his body, which = fucking him—is a really common accusation. Gay men are seen as lusting after and trying to copy other men’s real masculinity for themselves (but of course never quite succeeding). A man thinking that another man who he knows or suspects to be gay looks too similar to him, and so must have been watching and ‘copying’ him, is a common spark for homophobic attacks.

-the idea that any of this could have been a joke depends on the idea that two men having sex is wacky and unrealistic. Imagine if that happened, wouldn’t that be weird.

Now, someone might say, “It’s not that gay sex is wacky, it’s that the incest that is!” First, incest accounts for a lot of childhood sexual abuse, so I wouldn’t say it’s wacky either. And while it’s true that people can say awful things to different gender twins as well out of a combination of gender prejudices, in this case there were also homophobic ideas about men and masculinity at play.

Ways that power is working here:

-People forgot this fast. It was treated as settled because the Stars said it was settled. People gave “kudos” to Benn “doing the right thing” afterward, or for seeming to realize what was happening and not saying yes to the final question.

 I would argue that “I don’t know, I can’t say” is somehow a worse answer to a yes-or-no question, because it means that either you want to say yes but you’re scared of the consequences, or you sincerely don’t know what to say. All he had to do was say “No.” After he said “I don’t know,” Seguin continued and said, “They are weird.” If Benn had said, “No, actually they’ve been professional when I’ve worked with them and I won’t comment any more on their personal life,” Sequin might have noticed, and Benn might have encouraged him to change his behavior. Not saying “no” was a direct, demonstrable failure to show any kind of leadership.

-This counts as workplace sexual harassment. I’m not saying a case should have been pursued: that should have been at least partly up to the Sedins (although there should also be workplace rules about what is and isn’t acceptable without the victims having to ask for it). But that’s a word we can use for this, this could have been counted as that. Sexual harassment are actions based on a person’s gender, assigned sex, sexual activity, or other qualities related to sex, not just sexual attraction. I worry that often, conflicted feelings about putting people into the category of “Sexual Harasser” lead people to think that actions “aren’t bad enough” to be sexual harassment when they definitionally can be. In other lines of work, if you talk about your coworkers fucking their twins in the office, there are rules about that: at the very least, you’ll be getting a bunch of trainings and be moved to a part of the office where you won’t see them again.

In the NHL, it seems frighteningly clear that people don’t have recourse for sexual harassment. This was discussed and handled as a “childish insult”, not harassment against two coworkers/employees. Often, there’s a logic that something is just an insult, not a ‘real’ threat, because the person who did it couldn’t possibly be sexually attracted to the person they did it to.

-In 2015 Eric and Jordan Staal were living in identical houses outside Raleigh and ‘playing’ together every night. Seems super suspicious. Unless beefy Canadian boys’ behavior is normal, and European masculinity always has to be questioned as being softer-spoken, slimmer, more intellectual, scared of heavy hitting. There are a lot of reasons you might not call Eric Staal gay—maybe you know he’s bigger than you, more successful on Team Canada than you, more popular with the other Team Canada guys than you. Or maybe you just don’t look at him and think he could be gay. Or both. Eric is positioned so you’d have to punch up at him: Benn tried to position himself closer to that kind of social standing, by pushing someone else who already doesn’t quite fit in further out. This isn’t directly in the words, so I’m not all-out accusing them of xenophobia: what I mean is that it’s always worth asking if and how and why feminization is applied to Those Other People.

There’s the eating out thing. Which he sent to teammate Jason Demers, commenting “I feel like your (sic) the kind of guy who would”.

How misogyny is working here:

-the idea that this could have been funny or interesting or worth saying at all depends on the idea that vulvas are weird. Imagine if someone willing touched a cis woman with anything but their dick. Gosh.

-There’s no good explanation for what ‘the kind of guy who would’ was meant to mean. No one says, ‘Hey, do you do this widely mocked sex act? I don’t, but I think you would, and that’s cool and doesn’t affect your masculinity at all, bro, life is a rich tapestry.’

How power is working here:

-This counts as sexual harassment again. Even if asking a coworker (or really more like someone you shift-manage or who reports to you) ‘how do you fuck your partner?’ wasn’t, saying ‘you seem like you would do ___’ is. Again, I’m not saying that Demers has to feel that way about it, but he should have had options.

-Demers was also in a new relationship at the time, so this could be harassment to both him and his partner, who had no recourse when someone her partner has to work with/for comments on her body.

-I don’t think it was intended as sexual harassment. But there’s not really a nice explanation of what he meant to say. It seems like it was intended as an insult or a ‘warning’: ‘this is the way men are allowed and no allowed to be in our group, do you know your place?’

Around that time, the Stars shared a video of Benn, Seguin, and Valeri Nichushkin. Each were supposed to say a couple lines, including their name. Valeri pronounced his nickname ‘Vall’, with a native Russian accent, more like “Wall” in English. Each time Benn and Seguin laughed and questions him and the producer cut. After a couple takes Benn said, “I thought your name was ‘Val.’” 

Sequin physically turned away from Nichushkin and laughed. Nichushkin, not understanding the comment, and not laughing, turned to Benn for an explanation, but Benn only turned toward Seguin, both continuing to laugh.

It was part of a pattern of comments from observers: “If Tyler Seguin and Jamie Benn are having a laugh in the locker room, Nichushkin can only guess what’s so funny.” They themselves commented on how “His English is really not good at all…A lot of times we find him just sitting there.” “(In) normal conversations, he doesn’t really know what’s going on.”

I’ll give them credit—they said they felt pity and “try to help” too. I just can’t find any examples of them doing it, compared to teammates like Sharp or Spezza who can more concretely describe spending time with him.

Nichushkin chose to burn contract time in the KHL rather than Dallas before being bought out, expressing that he no longer felt like he “belonged in the NHL.” He felt that the Stars didn’t “trust” in him, was “nervous” in the locker room, and said his family worried for his mental health because of the culture.

“There is a bit of it because I want to be part of the conversation when someone says something,” Nichushkin said. “But I don’t have enough words I know so I can join in.”

-Is it the worst xenophobia in the world? Nah. It’s not free from xenophobia, when the only joke is that someone speaks differently than you. It’s not Benn joking about his own misunderstanding to invite Nichushkin in. I often point to Tripp Tracy, who asks players to teach him words in their language and then sets up jokes about his accent so they can deliver the punchline and laugh with him.

-Is it bullying? It kind of came off like it, to make a joke about someone you know can’t understand. At least it was unnecessary, and unkind. It’s just reminding someone they don’t belong.

-It’s unimpressive. It’s deflecting. Oh, he doesn’t know what’s going on? What did you do to tell to him? My family communicate through a mix of finger-signing, Scrabble tiles, and interpretive dance: I guarantee you, if you can’t communicate concepts like “we’re going to get dinner now, you’re welcome here, we’re having fun!”, you’re not trying. Which is fine, I guess, you don’t have to talk to people, unless it’s like, your job to work with your teammates.

Wanting to ban trans*feminine athletes from competition is based on a complete misunderstanding of math, medicine, and athletics; it’s unnecessary, unethical, and unkind.

It’s an unsurprising continuation of the ideas that there’s a line between men and women and transgressing it is suspicious, that women are gross, that people who are different are shocking and funny, that social pressure can and should be used to remind people who are different that they don’t belong.

It’s a fascist use of power, which I don’t say to mean that “He is A Fascist in every sense,” but that those beliesf express a desire and a comfort with using power to control other people’s bodies, and which bodies have access to certain spaces, to maintain “purity”.

I’m not saying that anyone should have looked at any of these things and easily decided in that moment, “That’s it, he’s shouldn’t have a platform or power over other players, he’s irredeemable.” You might look at a couple of them and think, “That’s not even a problem at all.” I’ll agree to disagree on some of them, but my point is about a pattern of how this dude uses the power he’s given.

I have a phrase, or more a series of words I sometimes yell when I’m talking about subjects like this—“STRUCK A TIM HORTONS.” I shout this in commemoration of the time that Ryan O’Reilly got drunk and drove his pickup into the wall of a small town Ontario Timmies.

“Struck a Tim Hortons” is a very good phrase to read in a police report. And, also, I’m an ACoA. I’ve experienced impaired driving, I’m terrified to shaking of it, and I know that other people have experienced much worse consequences. This isn’t a perfect metaphor (it’s not an example of prejudice or violence against a class of people, etc) but my point is that I try to hold it in my heart because that’s one case where I know what it’s like to really, really want something to just be NBD. Where part of me wants to just think it was a funny mistake so I don’t have to really think about the serious implications of it, and part of me super doesn’t. I have an instinct to resolve those feelings, to come down and decide that it’s either insignificant enough that I don’t have to think about it, or significant enough that I can hate him and then also stop thinking about it, and then I can have the relief of feeling just one feeling at a time.

I don’t think it’s bad to feel conflicted learning something about someone. I think it’s important.

But the problem is that if one thing isn’t significant enough, and we decide to keep thinking someone is fundamentally Good, we often toss that thing out. So when another thing happens, we only look at the new thing, trying to decide: is this enough? And that next thing might not be enough either. So we can go on and on, until you add up to a lot of things that have each done some harm, but none of them have been enough to change how we see and talk about someone.

Now I, personally, decided that the Timmies wasn’t so bad that ROR couldn’t ever make it up to me. But I didn’t decide to feel fine about it: I tried to just put a pin in how conflicted I felt. It’s been years, and over the years I think his actions have showed meaningful change. He hasn’t struck a Starbucks, a Dunkin, or even a Caribou. There’s a pattern.

I think a lot of people who don’t really like the things Benn says or does or believes have given him a lot of chances to make up for them, because they don’t want him to really mean those things. By which I really mean that I know there are a lot of women and queer fans who liked the guy. I get it (I don’t actually get it get it, but I mean I can try to understand people coming from a very different place than I do about him). 

I’ve read a lot of ways that people who are themselves vulnerable in our society try to empathize with him by imagining him as vulnerable too--he’s also experienced fatphobia, homophobia, he wasn’t expected to succeed, etc! I think that’s a wonderfully human instinct. But often I think people have more empathy for those experiences than he expresses for himself--he agrees that it was Bad to be fat and he’s Worked Hard to fit into the masculine norm, he agrees that it’s Bad to be close with another man and works to avoid it--and certainly more than he has showed in his actions toward others. If you’re going to say I hate him for saying that, I don’t--I want him and everyone in our society not to feel and do this shit!

I see a lot of people starting from the idea he is a good leader trying really hard to spin his choices as a smart strategy when he plays dumb with media, when he doesn’t give specific action plans or give public statements or apologies. (I actually agree with the first one, I think it is a strategy for him to avoid transparency and not do a part of his job that he doesn’t want to do.) It just…it seems like a lot of work to reach a pre-determined goal. It’s okay to like someone and for them to still not be good at their jobs! When I say I think a guy’s not a good leader, that’s not always the same as saying he’s a bad person. And if we keep on promoting a guy as a good leader because we like them regardless of their demonstrated leadership skills…that’s how we end up with a lot of shitty policies in the NHL.

Over the years he has consistently avoided stepping up to his captaincy and using his personal power to say things like, “No,” “Tyler, cut it out,” “This is what I’m going to do to fix a problem,” or “I believe in…” anything, really. 

I really, really want to ask people to be mad as hell and advocate for the NHL to improve its code of conduct and harassment processes. I do. But I’m also tired. I don’t think, if I did ask you that, it would work. I don’t have an argument for why you should be mad at someone who’s mad at my existence. I’m not trying. I just want to encourage you, if you’re feeling the tug of feelings and just want to be able to simplify someone’s behavior and love them in simple terms, to put a pin in the more complicated parts, and remember them the next time, and look for patterns.

[alightwhendarknessfell]

Dear Andy,

I have debated posting this for a while, mostly because I wanted to get it right. With the WSTW re-record release approaching and things coming to light about the actions of a former member I feel that now is as good a time as ever. I don’t know if you’ll read this, but it is something that over the past year I have wanted to do. I have been unfair and overcritical and at times, downright mean. I was judging you and your actions based on my own interpretations. The events of the past few weeks have shown me that those interpretations were wrong. So here it goes…

I have been a fan of not only Black Veil, but of you going back to 2008-2009, when everything was still on Myspace. I vividly remember eagerly awaiting the release of WSTW and making my mom drive me to the local Hot Topic to pick it up the day it came out. I remember going to my first show in a small little bar in Raleigh, NC that sadly is no more, and I remember being dressed in war paint along with my best friends. I know that it may not seem like it, but I to this day consider myself a fan. The band that you created was pivotal for my teenage years and to this day the community you helped build means the world to me.

I will admit that it was my passion and love for that community that was the root of my criticism. Despite what you or others reading this may think, I do not hate you, not at all. There have been times that I felt let down, cheated, and disappointed as a fan, but the events of the past few weeks have really opened my eyes. I will get that to that point, but I did not and do not hate you. As a person I speak up, at times when I probably shouldn’t, but I do when I feel strongly about something. I have certainly made the mistake too many times of speaking before I had all the information or trusting my own judgement on things, I knew nothing about. I am trying to get better at not doing that.

I can see how some of the things I have said, condoned, or even given a platform to were mean, uncalled for, hurtful, and regrettably untrue at times. I have had this blog and been in this fandom for over a decade. I was 13-14 years old when I first made this blog, and I am almost 25 now. I look back on some of the things I said, and I deeply regret them. In 2015 this blog was accidentally deleted, and honestly it was probably for the best that some of my earlier posts are gone. Regardless, I have let myself get carried away or swept up in drama perpetuated by others (and sometimes myself). I have said things, even in the past few years that I shouldn’t have, things that could be hurtful. While my intention was never to hurt you, I think it’s safe to say that myself and others lose sight of the impact of our words when they are said behind a screen, to people we think will never read them. As a teenager or even in my early 20’s I didn’t think that someone ‘famous’ would see what I wrote, surely it would all get lost in the sea of tweets, posts and comments.

That does not make saying those things right.

I would like to personally apologize to you for not considering the fact that you might see some of those words. That you are a person with emotions just like everyone else, that could be hurt by them. I am sorry for letting others get away with saying cruel things, even if I pushed back on them or didn’t directly comment. I would be lying if I said that the fame (or infamy), status and notoriety I got for my words didn’t affect my actions. It’s sad, but true that often times more attention comes out of negativity than kindness.

As someone who has been bullied and suffers from mental illnesses, I should have left some things unsaid. I do not know you personally, I only know what you have shared. Seeing you speak about your own struggles with mental illness over the recent years has really given me a much-needed reality check. I have related to some of the things you’ve talked about more than you know. Some of the things that others and I have been critical of were clearly not the result of malicious intent but of your own hardships that we were blind to. 

I think people forget, and I know I did, that when this band took off you were just a teenager yourself. To think that at 18 or 19 someone in your situation would act ‘right’ all of the time and never make mistakes is ridiculous. Not only were you a kid trying to figure the world out, but I think it has become clear that you were dealing with people who used you for their own selfish gains. That would be hard for anyone, regardless of their age. 

I have never dealt with addiction on a personal level, but I emphasize with whatever pain you had to endure in your own struggles with it. You are right when you said that no one sees themselves becoming an alcoholic at twenty years old, and I am sorry for not being more sympatric in the past. One of my biggest regrets in all of this was hearing that during the time that I was probably the harshest to you (around 2016) was when you were struggling the most with trying to be sober. 

I am happy that you are sober, I am glad that you were able to make it out of that cycle that consumes so many people. I hope that others who are struggling are inspired by your dedication to living a healthier life. In an industry where it is too easy to fall back into toxic behaviors and coping mechanisms, I am glad you have found strength.  

I would like to speak on why I have been so negative in the past (and at times hateful). As I said, what you created in Black Veil meant a lot to me and so many others. This band has been a part of my life for so long and I have met some of the most amazing people through it. I have met people that I can honestly say I love because of this community. This fan base gave me a home when I felt alone and gave me something to identify with as a kid. That’s why I started cosplaying as you, sure it’s a hobby of mine and aesthetically I am a fan of 80’s glam metal, but it was mostly to pay tribute. I am not a ‘traditional’ artist in the sense of paintings and drawings, my media is makeup and costume. The WSTW/STWOF era is what I consider my era as a fan, the one that I identified with the most. 

I admit, I was upset when it ended. That’s a stupid reason to be upset, obviously all bands change and there’s nothing wrong with that, but that’s how I felt. The source of my jadedness was not the adoption of a new look, it was deeper than that. Around 2016 was when I had the most animosity because I saw what I thought at the time was you ‘giving up’ on Black Veil. I felt like the ‘old’ fans weren’t wanted anymore and like most people, I felt the need to protect and defend what I loved.

With the introduction of your solo act, it felt like the community I cared so much about was being destroyed and I couldn’t understand why you were doing that. I was blinded by my own judgements. What came off as hate was really just hurt. I know I am not the only ‘OG’ fan who felt that way, and I took that to mean I was justified. In hindsight it is clear, none of us had any idea what was really going on with the band and certain individuals who were bringing it down. At various times it seemed like you hated the old era and as a fan who stood there from the beginning that felt like a gut punch.  I let my own feelings make me bitter, and that was wrong. I let others fuel that bitterness, including ones who were actively stabbing you in the back. 

I remember around 2012 I made a very critical post of an article you did in Kerrang talking about your struggles with alcohol. I criticized you for not saying more and even said that what you shared was nothing in comparison to a former member’s struggles with addiction. When I received this DM from that individual saying that they approved of my words and that I was ‘spot on’ I felt embolden. I deeply, deeply regret letting such a toxic and horrible person influence me. That post I wrote was wrong, ignorant and immature. That post was one that got deleted in 2015, but I still regret having written something so heartless. 

(screen shot is from 2012, this was a Twitter DM from said individual. I did not share that post with them, they found it on their own and contacted me. ) 

I see now that you were not turning your back on Black Veil, you were trying to save it. The interview you did with Ryan Downey brought me to tears. I cannot imagine what it feels like to have something you spent your whole life fighting for be taken over by an abusive, evil, and selfish person. I feel like I have gained a better perspective of where you and the band were at over the past three weeks and I am sorry you are not free to say more. I am sorry for defending this person because they did not deserve a single fan.

Some who takes advantage of another’s passion and youth because they lack the creativity and ability to do it on their own is stealing, plain and simple. I am sorry that you have been tethered to such a horrible person for so long. I deeply admire your perseverance, strength and determination in taking back what that person tried to take. To be willing to destroy something you love and care about to keep it from the hands of evil is an incredible act of dedication to it. 

I would like to end this with a few more things. I know I have been critical of people that you love. I do admit I have taken those criticisms too far at times where they crossed into bullying. I am sorry to Juliet for being unfairly harsh, I am not a hateful person, but I have allowed myself to act that way. There are certainly things that I have said that I stand by, and there are things that I may not agree with or understand, but I think there are ways that I can voice my own opinions respectfully, without being mean. 

In an ideal world I would love to sit down with you, or anyone else I may have hurt and have a discussion about it, but hopefully this gets my point across well enough. I do not intend to delete my blog or stop accepting posts (although I will try and make an effort to get rid of toxic posts. It will just take a while to sort through them all). While I can’t promise to never say anything critical again, I can promise to stop the hatefulness. I am promising to make a real effort to clean up some of the toxicity towards you that is unfair and unwarranted. To facilitate a more respectful, yet still honest and open dialogue. I do take pride in my blog being one of the last places of discussion and community for fans, but perhaps without the cruelty that been allowed to fester. If you are someone reading this who comes here to be mean and hateful, I’m sorry but it has to stop. This was never intended to be a ‘hate blog’, but I will openly admit I understand why people thought it was.  

If you take anything away from this, or if you even read this, please let it be this. I consider myself a supporter of you and what you have created. I want nothing more than to see you succeed and be happy. I hope that you are able to overcome the struggles in your life and that you are able to find meaning and true happiness if you have not already. Although it may not appear so, I have always routed for you. It may seem like nothing you do is ever good enough for the fans (or at least some of them) but for me at least that is not true. You have been given an impossible task of trying to please thousands of people, of never being allowed to fuck up, and having past transgressions brought up again and again. For that I am sorry, and I am sorry for having played a part in that. 

You deserve to be treated as a person, not as an object or persona. I whole heartedly believe you are a decent person, who maybe has flaws and room for improvement, but so do I and so does everyone else. I do believe there are fundamentally bad people out there, people who deserve the karma they have coming. Those are the people that purposefully hurt, lie, manipulate, cheat and deceive others for personal gain. I think especially in the past few weeks we have been shown who those people are. Yet, I don’t believe you are one of those people. 

To everyone out there who is reading this, please give people the chance to change. Be okay with admitting when you are wrong. Allow people to grow and become better. Over the past year my mentality and perspective on the world has shifted dramatically. Two years ago I couldn’t have written this post, but as I enter my mid-twenties I am able to look back and say ‘this is not the person I want to be, this is not the person I want people to think I am’. So all I can do is admit my shortcomings, apologize, and be better. 

Andy, if you read this and made it to the end, thank you. You are in no way obligated to respond to or accept any of what I said. I just wanted to put this out there with the hopes that it in some way, or that some part of this, lessened some of the hurt I regrettably have caused. 

- Ren <3 

P.S the banner of my blog is not calling you or the band trash. It’s a fan term for when someone is really into something. Saying “I am ______ trash” means you love that thing. I know it’s weird, but it’s supposed to be an inside joke for other fans, it’s a positive thing. So, when I say “I am 100% 2010 Black Veil trash” I am talking about myself being a massive fan of that era. I don’t think you or the band is trashy, if I did, I wouldn’t be spending money on tickets, merch and shoving blue contacts into my eyes for 10+ years. 

#Andy Biersack #Andy Black #Black Veil Brides #BVB #alightwhendarknessfell

[raleighcarrera]

famous

platinum | raleigh carrera x mc (cadence dorian)

an au where raleigh is still raleigh but cadence is an actress on a teen tv drama.

~5.4k words | M (18+)

raleigh tag list: @omgjasminesimone, @choicesarehard

cadence rolled her eyes from the makeup chair, prompting the artist that was working on applying her eyeshadow to let out an annoyed sigh. “sorry, katie,” she apologized, before cutting her gaze over to her co-star, sitting in the chair beside her.

“what’s the big deal?” cadence asked, still not seeing what made today so vastly different from any other day on set. “he’s just a guy.”

jaylen looked like she was about to have a stroke. “raleigh carrera is not just a guy. please don’t ever say that again.” 

cadence snuck a glance at katie, but the older woman only smirked silently as she waved a strip of false eyelashes in the air, waiting for the glue to try. “okay,” cadence started slowly, “i just meant -- that he’s probably like any other guest star we’ve had?”

jaylen scoffed. the set hairstylist finally walked up and started pulling the curlers out of her long, brown hair, running her fingers through it to loosen them. “he is so not. seriously, stop acting like you didn’t camp out all night for sunset skatepark tickets at one point in your life like everyone else.”

she definitely had, but -- “that was, like, a million years ago. i was thirteen. besides, he’s totally different now. i’ll be amazed if he even manages to show up on time today.”

cadence was due on set in an hour, which, if katie could get her eyelashes on in one try, was going to give her just enough time to grab something to eat before her first scene. at this point in filming the show, she was hardly nervous about anything, anymore, even having to film with one of the most famous people she’d probably ever meet -- so there wasn’t much she’d need to do to prepare, except maybe pop a mint before their big scene.

from beside her, jaylen was sulking. cadence watched her in the mirror as best as she could with katie curling her eyelashes. “his visit is totally wasted on you,” she whined, “i can’t believe the writers gave you the kiss.”

“it’s not like i asked for it. besides, rosa --” jaylen’s character “-- and trevor just got back together. it wouldn’t have made sense for it to be anyone else.”

she blinked rapidly as katie backed away, testing the weight of the false eyelashes. they were in the middle of filming the third season of the show, and while her eyes had definitely stopped watering, by now, that didn’t mean that it didn’t still feel a little bit weird, to have so much makeup on all the time.

just a few years ago, she was making smoothies for forty hours each week, barely pulling in enough money to afford her rent. now she was part of one of the most popular teen dramas in the world -- and about to get paid to make out with the guy that literally performed with justin timberlake at the super bowl.

so, life was surreal, sometimes. 

once her hair was set in the waves her character always wore, cadence left jaylen pouting in wardrobe and strolled to craft services, making a bee-line for the breakfast table. she was piling mini-muffins into a napkin when she saw him.

his hair was shorter than she’d expected it to be; when she thought of raleigh carrera she pictured the way he looked on the ‘famous’ album cover -- long hair, dark smile, lots of tattoos. the guy sitting in the chair in the corner of the room was undeniably the same person, but he looked...

hungover, that was the word she was looking for.

raleigh had sunglasses on. inside. he was cradling a cup of coffee in his hands.

cadence gathered up the corners of her napkin and made her way over to him. “hey,” she said, her voice perfectly level -- not, as shane always called it, monday-morning-chipper. “i’m cadence, i’ll be your scene partner today.”

raleigh stared at her -- or she assumed that was what he was doing. for all she knew, he was asleep. she arched her eyebrows at him, and a minute later, he tilted his head, letting his sunglasses slip down his nose. 

sheesh. he was hot. the look in his eyes caught her and pinned her in place. 

“cadence dorian, right?” she nodded, trying not to look too surprised. so -- he knew who she was? he didn’t seem like the type of guy that would be familiar with her work -- this teen drama and a number of big-studio romantic comedies. “my agent said we’re filming romance today. lots of kissing.”

cadence felt her lips spread into a grin. “yeah. i hope you brushed your teeth.”

raleigh let out a bark of laughter so loud that a few of the production assistants turned around to look at them. he was smirking when he said, “don’t tell me chadley fortnum’s got bad breath.”

she gaped at him. chadley had played her character’s boyfriend for the last two years, before the writers finally killed him off. he was an awful kisser. “do you seriously expect me to believe that you actually watch wicked midnight?”

now he was smirking in that way she’d expected. he looked a lot more like the guy from the ‘famous’ album cover. “maybe i catch an episode here and there.”

“this is hilarious. do you also watch gossip girl? riverdale? is your favorite movie fifty first dates?”

he reached up and pushed his sunglasses up into his hair. “i prefer how to lose a guy in ten days.” 

of course he was funny. why wouldn’t he be? it wasn’t like he wasn’t already drop-dead gorgeous and effortlessly cool. 

maybe jaylen was right. she’d only known him for three minutes, and already cadence could see he wasn’t just a guy.

“we should get going, or we’re going to be late. i’ll show you where the soundstage is.” 

raleigh nodded at her and they started walking to set together, him with his coffee and her with the four or so muffins in her hands that she was suddenly too shy to eat. “so,” she asked abruptly, for a distraction from thinking about how handsome he was, “why the sudden interest in acting?”

cadence glanced at him and watched him shrug his broad shoulders. “for the positive pr, mostly. i think my team’s just hoping to generate some headlines that aren’t about something i destroyed, for once.”

she laughed. “fair enough. i guess raleigh carrera guest stars in wicked midnight midseason finale is a lot better than raleigh carrera crashes motorcycle into wildlife sanctuary, kills family of endangered pandas.”

“okay, i would never do that,” he argued, “pandas are adorable. there’s nothing cool about anti-conservation.”

“but there is something cool about breaking into and wrecking a cruise ship?” so -- she read her fair share of gossip blogs. sue her.

“totally,” he confirmed. he drew her eye as he tipped his head back to drain what was left in his coffee cup. “would you believe me if i said it was a statement against capitalism?”

“i think i’d be more likely to believe you if you said you were drunk and bored.” they stepped onto set as the last scene was wrapping, and cadence hung back while production transformed the high school set into the one for rosa’s home; jaylen’s character was supposed to be throwing a house party -- that was where cadence and raleigh would meet.

her eyes scanned the room, but jaylen was no where to be found. “huh.” though her scenes weren’t filming until later today, cadence didn’t think she’d want to miss a minute of time with raleigh. 

she’d forgotten he was still standing beside her. “what?”

“i was just wondering where jaylen is,” cadence explained, “my co-star? she was pretty excited to meet you.”

raleigh turned towards her, then, smirking again. “finally. i gotta say, i was pretty disappointed you didn’t seem more star-struck. you know -- when girls treat me normally, it really hurts my feelings.”

she laughed, leaning over to playfully shove her shoulder into his. raleigh made a face at her as though she’d actually hurt him, reaching up to rub at his arm. “hey, easy! save it for the bedroom.” he looked back towards the set. “or... the fake kitchen counter.”

“cadence?” one of the production assistants jogged up to her before she could form a retort. “we’re ready for you.”

she found her mark in the fake kitchen and started making herself a drink. the extras milled around behind her, and as the director called for action, she wondered what the props team had put together to fill the bottles before her with -- on her birthday, they’d given her a full glass of vinegar disguised as water as a prank, and she’d spit it out all over ryan summers in the middle of a take.

raleigh walked into the scene and strolled right up to her. “hey.” he nodded coolly at the red cup in her hands. “what’s your poison?”

cadence surveyed him from behind the plastic rim as she took a sip. thank god it was just water with food dye in it. “i’m not picky when it comes to free alcohol.”

he pulled a red cup from the stack on the kitchen counter and made a drink for himself. “fair enough.” she watched him flick his wrist to swirl the liquid inside the cup around, mixing it together. “what’re we drinking to?”

cadence lifted her drink into the air, smiling sardonically at him. “to my dead boyfriend. his funeral was on tuesday.” she tilted her head back and chugged until the cup was empty, looking challengingly at raleigh once she finished. “cheerful, i know.”

she stared at him as his tongue poked into his cheek. he was a better actor than she’d expected him to be. “i’m sorry for your loss.”

cadence laughed humorlessly. “don’t be.” she sniffed, rubbing her nose with the hand not holding her cup. “any idiot who drives drunk deserves what they get.”

she chewed on her bottom lip, watching the extras leave the kitchen set. when she looked back at him, his gaze was intense -- it felt like he was staring into her soul.

“i’m jason,” he said, holding out his hand. cadence dropped her gaze to it and snorted, rolling her eyes. 

after a beat, she begrudgingly introduced herself. “lexi. you go to brentwood?”

he smirked at her, pushing the hand she refused to take smoothly through his hair. wardrobe had given raleigh a long-sleeved shirt, but she could still see his tattoos peeking out from under the cuffs. “nah, i’m a senior at p.s. 119. i just come to parties like this one to pass out favors to rich kids like you.”

her eyebrows lifted. with intent, she trailed her gaze up and down his body. “what’ve you got?”

raleigh dug in his pockets and pulled out a medicine bottle. he shook a pill into his hand -- the prop department had found something that looked almost fluorescent, under the artificially dim party lighting. “something that’ll help me cheer you up, i think.”

she shrugged, like it was all the same to her. “you can try.”

one of the cameras moved in for a close up. raleigh leaned in. “you’ll have to come and get it,” he said, right before he laid the pill on his own tongue.

cadence laughed, the sound low and throaty. her eyes dropped to his lips, and then she leaned in, pressing their mouths together. 

raleigh gathered her into his arms as the sweet taste of strawberry candy exploded on her tongue. he pushed the candy into her mouth and kissed her hard, his hands moving swiftly to her hips. cadence responded in kind, winding her arms around his neck and slipping her fingers into his hair, holding on tightly.

kissing him was... nothing like kissing chadley. it was nothing like kissing anyone, it was -- something she didn’t think she could have prepared for, even if she’d tried. already, she knew she’d never forget this kiss for as long as she lived. she was going to spend the rest of time comparing everyone she kissed to him, to this, to right now --

raleigh lifted her easily onto the prop kitchen counter, settling his hands on her thighs. cadence shivered as he stepped in close between her spread legs, the hushed noise of the set around them fading away. she wasn’t acting when he pushed his hips forward against hers and she let out a breathless moan of ecstasy, her grip on his hair tightening so she could pull him closer.

“cut! great work, guys. let’s reset and run it again.”

her mouth broke away from his in a daze. cadence dragged the back of her hand across her lips, breathing hard. raleigh barely looked rattled, but she was struggling to get herself together, staring at him with wide eyes.

he smirked at her. “that good, huh?”

cadence blinked. “what -- i --” she reached out and whacked his shoulder. “shut up.”

his thumbs were rubbing little circles on her bare thighs, where the hem of the denim cut-offs she’d been given ended. his laugh was fond and warm -- it didn’t feel like he was laughing at her, exactly. it felt nice, like they were in on the same joke. “it was pretty good for me, too.”

“just pretty good?”

“guys?” the assistant director was looking at them like they were insane, and cadence startled, remembering they’d been instructed to reset. right. now wasn’t the time to be flirting with raleigh carrera, even though he’d just given her an earth-shatteringly good kiss. she was supposed to be working.

she cleared her throat, scrambling to stand again. raleigh waited a beat before moving away, so there were a few heart-stopping seconds where the full length of her body brushed against his. cadence shot him a look from under her false eyelashes as he slinked away.

they ran the scene an agonizing nine more times. by the end of the morning, her lips felt swollen and raw, and her jaw was tingling from the stubble that dotted raleigh’s face. 

and that wasn’t even to mention her nerves, which were alight and on edge after a seemingly endless few hours spent kissing the hottest guy on the face of planet earth. 

raleigh wrapped an arm around her shoulders as production broke down the set around them. “so, can i buy you lunch? i feel like it’s the least i can do.”

“i bet you say that to all the girls,” cadence hummed, leaning against his side. from across the room, she noticed jaylen watching them with narrowed eyes, a frown set on her face. cadence looked away. “did they set you up with a trailer?”

“yeah, but i bet yours is nicer,” he grinned, “since you’re the star, and i’m the guy who brings property damage everywhere he goes.” he had a point. “want to show it to me?”

cadence wondered if he meant the words as the invitation she thought he did. her pulse was racing. still, she nodded. “definitely.”

raleigh wasn’t shy about looking around when she let him inside her trailer. he seemed particularly taken by her large jar of pink starbursts, which he immediately dug his hand into as she dropped down onto the couch. “woah, okay, diva. you make them sort out the other colors?”

“no,” she laughed, “i tweeted once that the pink ones are my favorite, so -- now they just send them to me.”

he grinned obnoxiously at her as he popped one in his mouth. “aren’t the pink ones everyone’s favorite? you’re not so special.”

“god, i hope you don’t talk to every girl you make out with like this,” she laughed, kicking her feet up onto the table in front of the couch. “no wonder everyone thinks you’re such a dick.”

raleigh laid a hand over his heart, looking wounded. “it’s not everyone. just the MARCs.”

“the marks?”

“M-A-R-Cs. mothers against raleigh carrera.” he said the words with a completely straight face. cadence looked at him skeptically.

“no way is that real.”

“wanna bet?” he pulled his phone from his pocket before dropping down onto the couch beside her. the long line of his body took up an inordinate amount of space in her trailer. “see for yourself.”

“huh. they even have a facebook page.” her eyes drifted from the phone screen back to his face, which was suddenly very close. “i guess you are every parent’s worst nightmare.”

raleigh laughed, staring at her for a long moment before moving away, putting some distance between them. “cadence, you flatter me. now -- what do you want for lunch? you need to carb up for this afternoon.”

she rolled over to the end of the couch, grabbing her stack of takeout menus off the side table and presenting them to him with amusement. “we have to film one scene.”

“yeah, but you’ll be in bed with me. that’s -- understandably, of course -- going to be a lot for you.”

cadence leaned over and kicked his ankle. “the show airs in primetime. we’re just going to be waking up together. it’s all in the subtext.”

“hmmm.” his eyes were on the menus, even as he said, “doesn’t mean we can’t bring it into the... foretext.”

she blinked at him. “i don’t think that’s a word.”

raleigh lifted his head. his eyes were serious and intense when they locked on hers, and again cadence found herself helplessly caught in his gaze. “you know what i mean.”

oh, god. was raleigh carrera hitting on her? 

“um.” her eyes dropped to his lips, which quirked up at the corners as soon as he noticed. yeah. he was definitely hitting on her. raleigh carrera. hitting on her. she wondered what jared from ninth grade, who’d told her she was too ugly to go to homecoming with, would say if he was here. 

presumably tired of waiting for her to try to make sentences, raleigh leaned in and kissed her. not because they were rolling, or because he thought they should run lines for later -- but because he wanted to. 

cadence gasped, leaning back against the arm of the couch. raleigh shifted to lean over her, the takeout menus that’d been in his lap falling to the floor as he moved on top of her and pressed in close. 

since they’d filmed wicked midnight’s pilot, there had been a lot of famous people who visited the set. but she’d never done this before with anyone, and she felt more than a little out of her depth as raleigh’s knees pushed her thighs open so he could grind down against her. 

she felt like she was floating. he was a truly exceptional kisser, and the way he looked at her made her feel more than a little dangerous. if she was being honest, cadence wasn’t entirely sure what he thought he saw when he stared at her like he kept doing, but she was hardly in a position to question it when he tore his mouth away from hers, breathing hard, and started kissing down her neck instead.

her head tilted to the opposite side encouragingly, and her fingers found his hair again. “i thought you had a girlfriend,” she panted, the detail stuck in her mind, for some reason. she’d definitely read about it. she had a ridiculous name. peach? pear? plum? 

“who, apricott?” that was it. “god, no. that’s just for press. and i can’t stand her.”

she did seem pretty terrible. “so why do you --”

raleigh lifted his head. cadence had trouble focusing on the expression on his face when one of his large hands was spanning what felt like the entirety of her side under her costume shirt, his thumb mindlessly stroking the skin beneath the waistband of her denim shorts. “look, i like you. so if you want to do this -- i’ll tell my publicist it’s over.” 

what the fuck was happening? “if i want to... do what?”

he shrugged. he had all the confidence of someone who was never turned down. “hang out. see where this goes.”

well, she wasn’t that stupid. “i -- yeah, of course i do. like -- you mean... date, right?”

for a half-second, it looked like he was going to argue with her use of the word ‘date,’ but then that unreadable look was back on his face. raleigh nodded decisively. “yeah. date.” 

“okay, i think you’re asking me out.” her voice was playful again and her racing heartbeat was starting to calm, her thoughts finally getting back on track. she could fake the same level of confidence he had, right? “in which case -- i totally accept, but... you’ll need to pull out all the stops.”

raleigh smirked at her, his grip on her side tightening before his hand relaxed. “oh, yeah? you want a limo full of pink starbursts? dinner on top of the empire state building? a helicopter ride to a walk on the beach? i’ve heard it all before.”

cadence laughed, running her fingers through his hair. the warm smile raleigh gave her made her heartbeat skip. “oh my god, are those your moves? yes, definitely. i want the full raleigh carrera experience.”

his eyebrows bounced up and down, and he wiggled his hips pointedly against hers. “you sure? it could be a long night.”

the laugh she gave him was breathless. cadence felt unbelievably giddy as she sunk her teeth into her bottom lip and watched raleigh’s eyes narrow in on it. “i’m kinda counting on that.”

they made out until their call time, rolling around on her couch like teenagers. cadence couldn’t remember another time she’d kissed anyone for literal hours before. the way raleigh looked at her, disheveled and wanting and flushed, when the pa finally knocked on her trailer door to call for them, made her want to play hooky and blow off returning to set -- just so they could keep doing this. 

her indecision must’ve shown on her face. raleigh pressed his thumb against her bottom lip and sighed heavily. “you are so, so, so beautiful. i can’t wait to introduce you to second base.”

she laughed. “i have been there before, you know.”

raleigh’s hands slid slowly down her body, full of intent. “not with me.”

the poor pa knocked on her door again. “um, ms. dorian? you’re really needed on set, now.”

cadence lifted her hand to push at his shoulder. “get up, you’re going to get me in trouble.”

his fingers trailed ever-so-lightly over her bare thigh. “what’s life without a little trouble? besides, they literally can’t start without us. they can wait a few minutes.”

her hands moved to his messy hair, trying her best to smooth it back down. “they’re going to have to. we’re going to need another round of hair and makeup. and zadie’s going to kill me when she finds that thread you ripped.”

raleigh shrugged unrepentantly. “it was loose.” the unimpressed look she leveled him with made him sigh again. “fine, goody-two-shoes. we’ll go to set. but you’re in for it, later.”

anticipation sang through her, quick and thrilling. “oh, yeah?”

he groaned and rolled to stand. “don’t start, or i’ll never let you go. come on.”

every eye in the studio followed them when they stepped into the bedroom scene. they separated to get changed, and cadence blushed all over when she traded her nondescript top and shorts for just a bra and panties, prompting zadie to hone her gaze in on the fresh hickey starting to bloom across her collarbone. “i love the commitment. very method.”

cadence stalked off back towards the bed; raleigh was already shirtless and under the sheets, scrolling through his phone. for a moment, she pretended like they were at home in her apartment, and let herself really look at him. he looked good -- great. incredible.

he whistled at her when he saw her. that didn’t help her blush. a few members of the lighting crew laughed, double checking the scene when she slipped into the bed beside him.

katie from makeup came over with powder. she didn’t say anything about cadence’s hickey, even when raleigh very obviously leaned in, pressed his thumb against it and laughed, “oh, shit. sorry about that.”

it would have been a perfect time for the ground to open up and swallow her whole, but they started rolling, instead.

cadence had her back to raleigh, his arm slung low across her waist. lexi was supposed to wake up first, so she did, holding up a hand against the artificial bright light of the fake sun-filled window in her face. she groaned, pressing against her forehead, and then noticed the arm around her and slowly turned towards raleigh. 

her eyes went wide. “jason?”

she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stifle the smile that threatened as raleigh woke up so adorably. he made a soft, sleepy sound of confusion from beside her, cracking one eye open. “lexi. i thought i dreamt that.”

her expression was gentle for a split second before it hardened. she shook her head. “it was just a one-time thing,” she insisted brusquely, pulling away. “i was drunk.”

“you weren’t that drunk.” 

cadence was pointedly not looking at him. “we were high.”

raleigh laughed. “that, i’ll give you.” as she moved to get up out of the bed, his arm swung out and grabbed her, holding her still. “hey.”

she looked back at him expectantly. raleigh was great at acting nervous, swallowing hard while his eyes darted around the room. “can i see you again?”

cadence shook her head. “i don’t think so.”

“why not?”

“because... i’m a mess, jason. look at me. i deserve to be alone.”

“lexi...”

she shook her head, pulling out of his hold. raleigh let her go, and she started moving around the set by the bed, picking up the pieces of her outfit. “forget it.”

he slid to the edge of the bed, sitting on the mattress in just his briefs. both she and her character were trying not to stare. “you know, for what it’s worth... i don’t think you’re a mess. i think you’re pretty cool. and you’re -- you’re going to be okay, lexi.”

her lips pursed. her voice wavered when she said, “you don’t even know me.”

raleigh stood, crowding into her space. “actually, i think i know you better than you think. so that’s why... i’m okay with saying goodbye.” his eyes searched her face. “can i kiss you one last time?”

cadence drew in a shallow breath and nodded. raleigh cupped her face in his hands, holding her jaw steady, and kissed her hard. she had to actively fight the urge to pull him closer, knowing that lexi was still resistant to letting him get close -- but it was hard, when raleigh was such an expert kisser, the movement of his mouth against hers making her weak in the knees.

she was almost relieved when the director called, “cut! that was great, guys. we definitely got it. raleigh -- thanks for coming out, man. awesome stuff today. hopefully we can have you back soon.”

he reached out and ruffled her hair, grinning brightly. “only if you keep sticking me with this one.” cadence elbowed him in the side. “seriously, thanks for having me. this was really cool.”

zadie was holding out a robe for her. cadence reluctantly stepped out from raleigh’s body heat and put it on, smiling softly at the way he pouted when she tied it closed. 

he stepped up close and lowered his voice so none of the many, many people moving around them could hear. “so, are you done for the day? can i buy you a drink?”

“ooooh, are we going out for drinks?” somehow, jaylen stepped up between them, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “hi, i don’t think we got a chance to meet, yet. jaylen riaz -- i play rosa martinez.”

“...right. good to meet you. i’m raleigh.”

jaylen laughed as though he’d just made a funny joke. “of course i know who you are, silly. do you think i live under a rock?”

raleigh’s eyes were begging for help. cadence leaned in between them. “you should totally meet us when you’re wrapped for the day. i’ll text you where we wind up, but -- first we need to grab some food.”

“right.” raleigh’s lips twitched. “we skipped lunch.”

the memory of what they’d been doing instead threatened to make her blush, but cadence fought it off, wary of the way jaylen was looking back and forth between the two of them. “okay,” she said finally, her voice slow and thoughtful, “sounds fun.”

fortunately, they made it back to her trailer before she lost it, dissolving into giggles. cadence leaned her back against the closed door as her shoulders shook with laughter. “god,” she grinned, “you are such a dick.”

“me?” raleigh demanded, “what about you? you should totally meet us.” 

“okay, i do not sound like that.” cadence dropped her robe and started getting dressed in the clothes she’d wore to set that morning, what felt like a hundred years ago. “and i was just being nice. she totally likes you, she’s going to be so pissed at me when she finds out this is, like, a thing.”

“i guess i am irresistible,” he sighed, expertly ducking the t-shirt she threw at him. “i can’t fault her for her good taste.”

“it’s amazing your ego even fits in here.” she reached for her purse, pulling out her phone. she’d hardly looked at it all day, and it was alive with activity -- her manager had texted her about... forty-five times. cadence scrolled down to the bottom and saw the message that started it all: what’s this i hear about you getting cozy on set with raleigh carrera? sure you want to go down that road?

she grimaced. “let me guess,” raleigh said, cutting through her thoughts, “someone doesn’t want you getting messed up with me.”

cadence hesitated, her non-answer an answer on its own. he dragged his tongue across his teeth. “it’s really up to you, though, isn’t it?”

it was. “yeah,” she nodded, “and i don’t care about any of that, anyway. are you sure i’m not causing trouble for you? what about your fake girlfriend?”

he rolled his eyes. “she’ll get over it. as long as you’re okay, i’m okay.”

she smiled. “i’m okay,” cadence confirmed, “whatever happens -- i can handle it.” the look he was giving her was difficult to decipher, but she thought he might be pleased. she hesitated. “you’re... sure you want to do this, though? it’s okay if you just got caught up in the story.” 

“uh, hello? i already slept with lexi d’agosto, remember?” the obnoxious grin he was wearing softened at the sight of the expression on her face. “cadence, i’m sure. i like you. i want to hang out more -- see where this goes. you’re the one i should be double-checking.” 

“no way.” she gestured for him to follow her out of her trailer, into the film lot. “you’re not going to get out of giving me the full raleigh carrera experience. i don’t care what it costs you to buy out the empire state building.”

he laughed, his hand finding hers to link their fingers together. “i think you’ll change your tune after the blogs get wind of this, but -- fair enough.”

eventually, they reached the security gate. she’d have to walk them out into the street to find the car that was waiting for her, and if her manager had already heard the rumors sparking from their day on set, that meant that it was likely a few photographers had, too. once they left the film lot, there was no going back.

raleigh squeezed her hand. “ready for your life to get messier?”

things had been awfully predictable, lately. “definitely. ready for yours to get more awesome?”

“oh, absolutely.” together, they started off down the street. camera flashes exploded behind her eyelids, but she kept her head down, fighting a smile all the way to the car.

at least whatever happened next was bound to be interesting.

#raleigh carrera #platinum #raleigh carrera x mc #raleigh x mc #raleigh x cadence #myfic #cadence dorian #i love aus and i'm not sorry ! #i like the dialogue in this one i hope you guys do too !! we love a couple with banter !! #sorry the fake show is cheesy lmao i picture it like something on the cw

[bigbrotherlouis]

for director’s cut: the raleigh/airport scene in ‘i can’t find nothin’...’ if you would like to!!!!

ANGELA you’re gonna make me talk about sex scenes on main?! let’s DO IT

(director’s cut meme)

andrei understands, on some level, why they have to fly commercial, (i’m always going to make players fly commercial in fic if i can. direct action.)   even with a job like theirs, but in practicality, when he’s wandering around the raleigh airport at six am after their flight out is delayed, he doesn’t.

marty’s laughing at him in the way that means he’s trying to be subtle about it, but andrei’s too grumpy to care. (this was for la.) it’s too fucking early and the line for coffee is too fucking long.

“it’s too early,” he whines. marty flips over the book in his hands to read the back cover.

“boo fuckin’ hoo, bud.”

“i’m tired.” and again, in russian, “я устал.”

“не— не— i don’t care,” (i couldn’t remember how to phrase this properly and i didn’t want to look it up, plus it’s funny) marty snaps back. “it’s your own fault for watching tv until one in the morning.”

“it was gossip girl,” he mutters. “important american culture.” (in one of my transition workshops where we learned to handle moving countries, we watched mean girls as an example of american culture. true story.)

“uh huh, and degrassi is exactly how canadian high school was like.” (didn’t like the flow on this sentence but i couldn’t figure out how else to phrase it. oh well.)

andrei is, like, ninety percent sure marty didn’t finish high school in canada, but he’s not willing to take the chance that he’s wrong and get teased about it. “please, can we go to starbucks now? давай, давай.” [let’s go, let’s go] (translation is always a struggle, and even more so when it’s a different alphabet like russian. i decided to include translations when context isn’t immediately clear for the reader’s comfort. also, this is something my family does-- use a different language when we want to stress something, like svechy stressing that he wants to leave)

“talking in russian won’t get me to go any faster, svechy,” marty says, placid for the early morning, and shoves a book into andrei’s hands. “here. read this and distract yourself.”

“i don’t read until i awake.” (svechy’s syntax was hard for me to write, because i want it to be clear, true to character, and respectful all at once which is hard to balance. it’s why svech’s grammar can sometimes seem a little inconsistent-- sometimes, i chose respect and readability over true to characterization. also, transliteration of accents can make people seem childish or dumb which is absolutely not what i want!)

“sucks to suck.”

andrei grumbles under his breath, a mixture of russian and english and some of sebastian’s favourite swedish (this should be finnish. oops.) curses thrown in there too, absently drumming his fingers on the cover of the book he’s still holding. marty is paying him no attention, which almost bothers him as much as the lack of caffeine does.

he’s cocking his head to read the spines of the books in the airport store when he feels the heat of someone step behind him, too close for politeness, and he’s whirling before he can even really think about it. (there really aren’t a lot of places spies can meet up by accident without getting too repetitive, especially in something that’s supposed to be silly and short, but an airport felt plausible.)

“whoa,” says joel, stepping back out of andrei’s elbows. “easy there.”

“joel?”

“in the flesh,” he says with a grin, and andrei’s thinking about how twice is a coincidence but three times is a pattern when (this is me lampshading their constant meetups because i didn’t feel like expounding on it LOL)— “is that twilight?”

“i— what?”

“the book you’re reading.”

andrei looks down at his hands and then scowls in the general direction of the shelves. fucking marty. (this is the whole reason they’re in the bookstore. for me to make this joke about svech holding twilight.)

joel tips his head to the side and grins wider. “didn’t peg (haha peg) you for a vampire guy, but i can see it. wait, fuck, are you from transylvania?” (apologies to americans but this is a little jab at your general geography abilities)

“no, not in in russia,” he says absently. “siberia, yes. transylvania, no. why you here?”

“well, i just like to lurk around airports for fun. you see interesting people like this.”

“really.”

joel snorts. “no, i have a flight, dumbass. i’m a business bitch.” (my rule of thumb for writing joel’s dialogue is to think of the most ridiculous thing i can imagine a person saying in any given circumstance and then assigning him that line.)

“a business bitch?”

“yeah, dude. makin’ money moves n’shit.”

“you’re not following me?” andrei asks, aiming for teasing, pretending it’s not a real question. (more lampshading. i was lazy.) joel makes his eyes go wide and innocent, and mostly doesn’t succeed.

“andrew,” he says, outraged. “are you accusing me of being a stalker?”

“yes.”

“oh, so you’re definitely team edward. (this joke fell into my lap) i see how it is. can’t a bro say hi to his bro in an airport, especially after getting a decent brojob the last time they saw each other?”

andrei mouths the word brojob (i crack up every time this term is used and joel would absolutely say it) and then shakes his head. “no.”

“tough crowd. what are you doing here, buddy?”

“waiting for marty to finish so we can go to starbucks. too early and he is too slow.”

“yeah?” joel looks over at where marty is now examining the overpriced souvenirs with a very careful air, taking them off the shelves and putting them gently back. (i was very into this image) “wanna go stand in line with me?” (high romance there, bee)

strictly speaking, marty and andrei are supposed to be together when travelling, just in case someone gets snatched. it’s happened before, but andrei really, really wants something to drink before they fly out to fucking vancouver, or wherever they’re going. he can’t even remember. besides, if joel was going to snatch him, he would’ve done it earlier, in the hotel when andrei was fucked out and happy. he shrugs. (listen. i didn’t want to do any worldbuilding because it was a fun au so i did the bare minimum.)

“sure. marty, i go to stand in line,” he yells and marty waves a hand without looking up. the line stretches down the hallway, too many people patiently waiting for a rush. (i’m so familiar with this and it makes me sad just writing about it) andrei can’t fault them; he’s tired too, which is why he doesn’t realise that joel’s pulling him towards the bathrooms instead of the coffee shop, pushing him into the family stall and shoving the door closed. (i’m gonna be honest: i have absolutely no idea why i made this a sex scene. like none. i remember being halfway through and being like “....i’m writing?? airport sex??” but i don’t remember why i decided it was a good idea.)

for a second, andrei thinks this is when he gets kidnapped and killed, a rival taking him out in the crowded airport where no one can see. the bulgarian maneuver would’ve been a lot less conspicuous, but oh well. (this is referring to the bulgarian assassins who killed a journalist in the 80s? i think? with a poison-tipped umbrella and i’m just now realising that’s probably not common knowledge)

instead, joel clicks the lock in place and presses up close, plastered to the front of andrei.

“wha—” says andrei, but it’s swallowed up in joel’s mouth, swallowed up in the kiss that joel gives him. he kisses back, of course he does, because it’s a fucking good kiss. joel hums, coaxing his mouth open for a minute and then biting on his lower lip before pulling away. he doesn’t go far, hands skimming down andrei’s body until he drops to his knees on the dirty bathroom floor.

“we are in a toilet,” andrei hisses. “in an airport.” (svech has the practical response)

joel shrugs, giving him the biggest shit-eating grin as he undoes his belt. (joel is never not going to be smug) “guess you have to be fast, then. besides, i owe you one.”

technically, he still got off last time, even if it was pretty basic, it’s not like andrei’s going to say no, not when joel is looking so eager and mischievous.

“don’t make too much noise,” instructs joel, (i realised after i posted the fic that both blowjobs start with someone giving instructions and i’m gonna say it’s because it’s a literary parallel and not because i don’t know how to transition into sexual acts) and then he’s got his mouth on andrei’s dick and andrei can’t think of anything else to say. he bangs his head against the door and clamps a hand over his mouth, digging his fingers of his other hand into the wood behind him.

joel is good enough that andrei’s not going to last long, not like this, getting off on the secrecy of it all. (read: i just didn’t want to write a lot. but also i think svechy has an exhibitionist streak in him and joel definitely does) it’s a tiny bit shameful in the way that makes him groan into his palm, makes him rock his hips into joel’s hot mouth. joel just hums around andrei’s dick and that’s— okay, that’s a lot. andrei’s gonna get a splinter under his nails from digging so hard, or maybe he’s gonna die on the spot, or like something because joel pulls off to just go right back in again and fuck. (fun fact! i’ve never had sex i don’t know what i’m writing)

“fuck,” he hisses through the meat of his hand. “fuck!”

it’s too loud, probably, and joel’s eyes flick up to his with a warning.

“sorry,” andrei breathes. joel pinches his thigh, sharp enough to sting, and embarrassingly, that’s what makes him come with a noise between a breath and a whine.

“baller,” (joel pick something less sexy to say i dare you) joel says smugly when andrei comes back to earth, enough of a douche move that andrei can’t help but roll his eyes. he flicks joel on the cheek.

“you suck.”

he grins. “well, yeah. obviously.” (low hanging fruit but he’d say it so i wrote it)

“idiot,” andrei mutters and then tugs on joel’s shoulders until he stands up, pulls him in until he can nudge at joel’s jaw with his nose. “i help you?”

joel shakes his head, his hair tickling the side of andrei’s cheek. “nah, i like it when you owe me. hey, does it count as being part of the mile high club if we’re still on the ground?” (i was literally in the middle of posting this fic to ao3 before i realised i had not made a mile high joke which was unacceptable. typed it right into the text box)

“no?”

“damn. it’s on my bucket list.”

“you so weird,” andrei tells him, not managing to keep the fondness out of his voice, and then yawns so hard his jaw cracks. “i’ll pay you back with a drink.”

“oh my god,” says joel and then pinches andrei in the side so he twitches. “i just gave you the best airport blowjob—”

“only airport blowjob.”

“the best fucking airport blowjob of your life, and you’re thinking about drinks? fuckin’ ridiculous, andrew.”

“not andrew, yo-el.” (this is svech getting back at joel as best he can. trying to give it as good as he gets it. establishing banter!!)

“sure, bro,” joel mumbles and andrei shoves at him so he can get his pants back on, fumbling with the door. “next time better be fuckin’ phenomenal. you owe me big time.”

“excuse me, you said it was payback. we equal.”

“maybe i changed my mind,” joel says with a grin, bumping him with his hip.

“maybe i disappear forever,” he replies, halfway between teasing and halfway to serious. joel reaches up to fix his snapback (this is also for la.) and shrugs.

“nah, you’re too sweet to do that.”

“i’m not sweet.”

“uh huh, bro. keep tellin’ yourself that shit.”

the line’s gone down, incredibly, and they’re close enough to the counter that andrei has to start thinking about what to order. he should probably get something for marty, or risk getting whined at all flight.

“yo,” says joel when they’re two people away from the barista. “you got digits?”

andrei hesitates and then holds up his hands, wriggling his fingers. “uh. yes?” (it’s probably more in character for real life joel to ask for instagram instead but this joke made me laugh so much that i couldn’t bear to leave it out. also it’s a little fun second language moment)

joel blinks at him for a long second and then breaks out into a wide smile, shaking his head. “nah, not those. i mean, like, a phone number.”

“i don’t have a phone,” he mutters and then pulls one out of his pocket. (YES this is a tumblr post ripoff but svech wasn’t just going to give it up so easily so in it went) “okay, give.”

he dutifully types out the sequence joel rattles off and then sends a smiley face to the number when joel makes him text.

“cool. now we can text instead of ambushing each other in public.”

“that not me,” andrei tells him. “all you.”

“you’re jumpy and it’s cute.”

“i’ll delete your number. block it.” he warns and joel waves a hand.

“yeah, yeah,” he says cheerfully and then leans over to tell the barista what he wants to drink. it’s the most ridiculous sugary concoction, hardly any coffee, and andrei stares at him in horror. (this is projection for my horror at some of the things i’ve seen in american coffee shops. that’s just. so much sugar. also prime chirping opportunity to show their personalities and dynamic a little)

“you gonna drink that?” he asks and joel frowns a little. “is just sugar. candy.”

“yeah, so? it tastes so good.”

“you not gonna have teeth.” he orders two cold brews and pays. “you gonna die early from sugar.”

“somehow,” joel says with a sparkle in his eye, “i don’t think it’s gonna be the sugar that’ll nerf me in the end.” (minor foreshadowing here! also lmao @ the thought of joel saying nerf) 

he gets his vanilla bean java chip unicorn whatever frappuccino— literally, what the fuck— and takes a satisfied sip.

“disgusting,” says andrei. “no more kissing for you.”

“aw, bud, how am i gonna practice? you said i needed it.” (it’s not stated in the fic but joel learned how to flirt from watching tk and patty and i think it shows) 

“lost cause,” he tells him airily. he’s about to suggest something— he’s not even sure what— when someone appears over joel’s shoulder.

“farabee,” the guy says. he looks stern, but that might be the impressive beard. or the death glare he’s levelling andrei’s way. “where the fuck have you been?”

joel brandishes his drink. “caffeinating it up, g. stayin’ alert and awake.” (real life joel has said this at least once to claude, and i will stand by that statement)

g’s frown gets deeper. “we’re going to miss our flight.”

“nah, we’ve got time— oh, shit. yeah, we gotta bounce, bruh, but i’ll catch you later? text me.” (inelegant departure but my goal was to not overthink things in this fic, like i’m prone to do, so i left it) he almost literally get pulled away by his elbow, towed by his ginger friend through the airport so he can enthusiastically wave his goodbye.

“well,” marty says out of nowhere, reaching for his cold brew and making andrei jump. “there’s good news and bad news.”

“okay.”

“the good news is that he’s cute and somehow into your stupid face.” he takes a long drink, conscious that andrei is about to hit him for making him wait and enjoying it very much. (he’s dramatic and also i wanted to draw out the surprise a little) andrei needs new teammates.

“the bad news?” he prompts.

“the bad news,” repeats marty, grimacing. “the bad news is that he’s definitely in the same line of work as us.”([john mulaney voice] the other shoe just dropped.)

everything in andrei’s head grinds to a stop. “uh. what?”

“i recognize his handler. giroux, french canadian division.” (i’m gonna work g into fic when i can bc i love him)

“joel’s american,” he says absently and marty takes another drink, shrugging.

“so philly’s an international cooperation team. (this was my way of making the international aspect of the spy teams make sense, and also to not have this be enemies-to-lovers, as much as i love that trope) can’t imagine that ever happening.” he gives svech a look which, yes, andrei knows they work together because of a treaty or whatever, but still. he wants marty to be wrong about joel, for so many reasons.

mainly because he doesn’t like feeling like he’s been conned, not when he’s so good at doing the conning, and this is a big one. (it’s not my fic if there’s not at least a little angst!)

“fuck,” he says glumly. marty pats him on the shoulder.

“well,” he says. “at least he’s cute.” (marty’s trying to show his support for svech here! he just wants good things for his friend :)))

that was so fun to do, thank you so much for asking! ily!! <3 <3 <3

#personal issues #fic talk #hockey fic #hockey #hockey bros #my fic #long post #selkiefinalist

[avelera]

Shower thought, but I think I realized why creating a character who “wants” something is often so vexing and difficult for authors. 

The problem is you have this character who you need to save the world, somehow, because saving the world is the plot of your story. So you make the thing they want to do be... saving the world. But that’s dull, someone’s life can’t just be about Performing Your Plot, it makes them one dimensional. 

So you step back a bit. Ok, so you make their motivation to “Be A Good Person” - that solves it, right? Now they want to perform your plot! 

Except that’s the root of a lot of very boring protagonists. These Dudley Do-Rights don’t seem to want anything before or after the story is complete. They’re aimless or aimlessly Doing Good or looking for a chance to Do Good until they hear The World Needs Saving, and a good person would save it, so then they save it, and then they... bask in having saved the world? Do More Good? How much more good can you get than saving the world? Now their life lacks purpose, if it was just about saving the world and performing your plot, or they’re just paragons of goodness and they’re similarly at loose ends until another Bad Thing happens for them to be Good against. This makes them dull (or non-specific paragons of goodness), which in general do not make for very interesting characters. 

Furthermore, now your antagonist has all the interesting character notes because the antagonist is the one who put the world in danger in the first place, presumably, so they’re doing something cool and unique to get the action of the story moving, by wanting something cool and unique which in this case is wanting to put the world in danger, while your protagonist is just there to stand around until things go bad and then stop the bad-but-interesting thing from happening so we can go back to the uninteresting, but supposedly preferable, status quo. 

Ok, so here’s what you need: your protagonist should not want to do the thing that is the plot for its own sake, rather the thing they want should bring them in confrontation with your plot. Let’s give a few examples of what I mean below the cut:

Let’s start with Pacific Rim since it’s my current fandom. The movie has an A Plot Protagonist and a B Plot Protagonist, in my opinion, and one of them is a Paragon character while the latter is actually interesting.

The A Plot protagonist - Raleigh Becket. He’s a heroic pilot whose one desire in life seems to be to save the world and be a good person, I guess? He’s briefly taken out of commission when his brother/co-pilot dies and needs to be convinced to Perform the Plot and help save the world to launch our story. However, once he’s convinced, we get no real personal character notes about what he’s going to do before and after the world is saved except maybe settle down for a vague Happily Ever After. He’s a hero who wants to be heroic and beyond that his character lacks purpose, which certainly makes him a good “person” but a very dull character who doesn’t attract a lot of fandom attention. 

The B Plot protagonist - Dr. Newt Geiszler. He’s an otaku fan boy genius scientist who, when monsters arose from the sea, found his calling in life to study them. This brought him into contact with the main plot since the people trying to defeat the monsters are the people with the most access to the thing he, personally, wants to do, which is study those monsters. Not solve the plot, not save the world. He loves monsters and he wants to study them. Before the plot began he was doing science and loving the idea of monsters and after the plot is solved he’ll probably still be studying what they learned about those monsters and giving lectures about them (or, canonically, dealing with the fallout of the plot where he went too far studying monsters). His love of studying monsters brings him to the plot where he’s uniquely suited to discovering the monster’s (our main antagonist’s) plans on how they’ll destroy the world. Being a good person means he’s motivated to learn all he can and he helps save the day with his unique skill set, not because his goal in life was to save the world, but because when confronted with a situation where he can help by doing the thing he already wants to do, he chooses to take action and faces many personal trials and tribulations in the meantime. This makes him a rounded, likable character that we want to follow and it makes him a fandom darling. 

Let’s go with another recent example: Good Omens. It’s less A Plot/B Plot here but we have multiple protagonists so I can use them to compare and contrast. 

Anathema Device - like Raleigh Becket, her goal in life is to Perform the Plot. What did she want to do before that? What does she want to do after? Presumably settle down for a Happily Ever After, but we don’t really know that. Does she collect tropical fish? Does she have other interests beyond Saving the World and Performing the Plot? Presumably, but we never really see them. As a result, she has very little character to latch onto and is generally a bit forgettable. 

Aziraphale and Crowley (as a unit or individually) - Aziraphale wants to collect books and go to the Ritz with Crowley. Crowley wants to enjoy Earth and go to the Ritz with Aziraphale. When the world is threatened with the Apocalypse they realize they’re both idiots who unfortunately live here and they don’t want the world to end and interrupt their lives. Being angels and demons, they are uniquely suited to helping to save the world and (with some convincing on Aziraphale’s part), they take purposeful action to save it because they can and because it allows them to get what they really want, which is to collect books, enjoy the world, and continue to spend time together. We know what they were doing before the plot began and what they’re doing after to some extent, we know who they are as fleshed out “people” and we can fill in the gaps, which makes them fandom darlings. Their desire from the dawn of time wasn’t “save the world” it was “enjoy the world” and now the world needs saving which makes the thing they want bring them into confrontation with our plot and their choice to get involved and the trials they suffer as a result of their choice make us like them. 

If you examine many of the more forgettable protagonists, you’ll find again and again that all they want to do is Perform the Plot as their only goal. Interesting characters, however, have desires and goals that are tangental to the plot and all their own, but those wants and desires intertwine with the plot, or are interrupted by the plot in such a way that they must solve the plot to get what they want out of life. 

Instead of making your protagonist’s only desire in life be “be a good person” or “solve the plot” give them something they want that the plot interrupts so it must be solved (save the world so I can keep dining at the Ritz) or have them want something that the plot advances so by joining onto the plot they get more of the thing they personally want (saving the world allows me to better study and understand monsters and it behooves me to help out if I can). 

#writing #writing advice #maggie rambles #good omens #pacific rim #as examples

[dccomicsimagines]

What’s Lost is Found - Batfamily Imagine - Part Two

Part One   Part Two  Part Three   Part Four  Part Five  Part Six  Part Six.Five  Part Seven  Part Eight  Part Nine  Part Ten   Part Eleven

Zipping up your duffel bag, you looked around your bare room. About a month had passed since the day of the will reading. Most of that time was spent getting the Manor ready to be closed up. No one wanted to live here anymore. You did, but apparently what you wanted didn’t matter.

Damian had already moved into the city to live at Wayne Tower. Alfred was going with him while you were forced to go live with Dick. You sat down on the bare mattress, dreading the thought of never being here again. It wouldn’t be so bad if Dick lived nearby, but no, he had to live all the way down in Florida for that stupid circus he owned.

“(Y/N), time to go,” Dick said, poking his head in. He had a smile on his face. You wanted more than anything to wipe it off with your fist, but you resisted. Sadly, you were finding it useless to fight him. To make matters worse, he was helping the visions, headaches, and flashbacks you had been suffering from go away.

A sigh escaped your lips. You picked up your duffel before trailing your hand across your mattress one last time. Dick cleared his throat. You narrowed your eyes at him, but he didn’t react. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and guided you down the steps to the front door. 

Dick’s new car was shiny and out of place in the driveway. Alfred stood beside it, packing the last box into the truck. Everything you owned was now in the truck of Dick’s car. You never felt so lost.

“Mx. (Y/N),” Alfred said, coming up to hug you. Dick stole your duffel and placed it in the backseat. 

Tears threatened to fall down your cheeks, but you blinked them away. “Don’t let him take me,” you whispered desperately. Your stomach twisting at the thought of leaving the manor. It was your home, even if your father wasn’t here anymore. 

“This is for the best, Mx. (Y/N). Give Master Dick a chance.” Alfred patted your back. “I’ll be down to visit in a few months. Time will pass by quickly.” You pulled away from him. All you could think was how you needed years to pass by quickly. Could you snap your fingers and magically become eighteen?

Dick was watching the two of you. His mouth twitched. He probably expected you to fight him again. However, you knew it wouldn’t do any good. No one was coming to save you from him and you couldn’t save yourself. Just like you couldn’t save your father.

You shivered, closing your eyes only to see your father’s head crack against the railing and his body fall. Dick’s hand magically appeared on your back to break you out of it. He rubbed gently as he talked to Alfred about last minute details. You hated that he could help you and you despised all the memories he kept bringing back. They were good memories about the year he raised you, but painful only because Dick abandoned you in the end. 

“Well, we better be going. I want to get to Raleigh before nine at the latest,” Dick said, pushing you over to the car. You turned to take one last look at the manor. “Come on, honey.” Dick opened the car door.

“Quit calling me honey,” you snarled. Dick gave you a stern look. To avoid creating more tension for the long car ride, you got in without another comment. Dick shut the door gently behind you. He kept his back to you as he talked to Alfred. Alfred gave him a sad smile, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

You closed your eyes. Dick climbed into the driver’s seat a moment later. He started the car and drove down the driveway. You opened your eyes to turn and take one last look at the manor. Luckily for you, you finally ran out of tears. 

***

A crack of thunder boomed. You gasped, suddenly wide awake. “Dad,” you choked. You glanced around the dark room, not recognizing where you were. A light clicked on. You were blind. 

“Hush, you’re okay. We’re in the motel, remember?” Dick said. You heard him climb out of his own bed to come over to you. He sat on the edge of yours, gently rubbing your back. “It’s just a thunderstorm. Nothing to be afraid of.” 

Your eyes finally adjusted to let you see the crappy motel room. The memory of the awkward eight hour car ride flooded back into your mind. “Oh, okay,” you mumbled. Dick studied you, moving to run his fingers through your hair. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Dick’s hand brushed past your temple as another headache began to blossom. 

“No.” You closed your eyes. Your stomach twisted to the point where you might get sick. Suddenly, you pulled away from Dick to sprint toward the bathroom. You made it just in time to lose your dinner. 

Dick was right behind you. He held back your hair, rubbing your back. When you finished, he helped you lean back against the wall. His hand lingered on your forehead. “You don’t have a fever,” he muttered mostly to himself. You closed your eyes only to feel a wet cloth against your forehead a moment later. 

He cleaned up the bathroom before he helped you up and tucked you back into bed. Another crack of thunder boomed. You jumped a little, having a sudden flash of blood splattered around the room.

“If you’re seeing something, just close your eyes. It’s not there,” Dick soothed, running his fingers through your hair again once you laid down. “I’m here. It’s going to be okay.” 

A few weeks ago, this would have sent you into a rage and you would have attacked him. Now, you were too tired. Perhaps Dick had worn you done enough to accept that he was here to stay and there was nothing you could do about it. You gave up. He had already taken you from your home. No one was going to help you. Before you drifted back to sleep, you imagined that Dick’s fingers were your father’s and everything was simply a bad dream.

***

You knew it would come back to bite you. When Dick was in such a cheerful mood the next morning, you should have known. You should have done something to ruin his mood, but you didn’t and now you suffer from your lack of preparation. 

He hadn’t stopped talking for the first five hours of the drive. Dick told you about the house, his circus, memories of when he was Robin, his times with the Teen Titans, etc. He also told you about how many of his Titan friends lived near him and how it’s like a family and how you should feel like you can count on them if you need something.

The only good thing to come from this endless chatter was it gave you an excuse not to say anything. At most, you just had to nod your head. 

Finally Dick stopped at a gas station for a pit stop, and you escaped into a handicapped bathroom. You sighed. The silence felt wonderful. You splashed water on your face. Just when you finished drying off your face, your phone rang. It was Damian.

“Hello?” you answered hesitantly. Damian never called you. Part of you hoped he was calling to say he magically got custody of you and you could come back to Gotham to be Robin again.  

“(Y/N),” Damian yawned into the phone. “I was told by Pennyworth that I should call you to ‘check up on you’ as it were.” 

“Okay,” you mumbled, disappointed, but not surprised. “Hey, how do you shut Dick up?” 

Damian hummed. “I wouldn’t recommend a violent approach, since that hasn’t worked for you before. Grayson tends to get more touchy and annoying afterwards regardless.” 

“Yes, I noticed.” You glanced around the bathroom, wondering if you could sneak out a window and run away. Sadly, there was only one tiny window and it was too small for you to get through. 

“You could try telling him to shut up, but then he’ll make that face,” Damian sighed. The face he was talking about is Dick’s hurt face that he makes when he’s trying to be nice and you shut him down. It’s hard not to feel like garbage when he gives you that face.

Your eyes rolled to the ceiling. “So I’m not going to get him to shut up, am I?”

“No, probably not. I suppose you could try putting your earbuds in. Maybe he’ll get a hint?” Damian yawned again. You could hear him moving around on his end.

The question you wanted to ask him was on the tip of your tongue. You debated whether you should ask, not wanting Damian to simply hang up the phone. Finally, you decided to just say it. “Damian, why did you let Dick take me?” 

Damian was quiet for a long time. “TT, it’s for the best.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” you demanded, rubbing your temple as another headache pounded away. You were getting tired of all these headaches.

“(Y/N), I don’t think you understand the gravity of your actions.” Damian sounded angry. You tensed. “You broke Father’s one rule. The one he held throughout his life and to make it worse, he died the night you broke that rule. You murdered Bane, and by default, what our father stood for.” Damian’s voice got harsher. It was unrecognizable. “You can not be Robin again without disgracing Father’s legacy. None of us will let you do that. That’s why you’re going to live with Grayson.” 

It was like getting punched in stomach repeatedly. You wanted to say how hypocritical he was being. Damian killed lots of people, although maybe not as recently. However, all you could do was hang up the phone. You cried softly to yourself, sinking to the floor.

Damian could be cruel, but you knew he was right. If he was still alive, your father would never forgive you for the life you took. Taking a deep breath, you got control of yourself. You quickly cleaned up your face, knowing you couldn’t stay in here much longer or Dick will come looking for you. He probably was already worried you were sick or something.

You exited the bathroom. A older man gave you a funny look. You blushed, but kept moving on. Dick was outside sitting on the hood of the car, munching on a slice of pizza. You swallowed hard. Your head still pounded away.

“Hey, kiddo,” Dick said, studying you as you walked past him. “You okay? You were in there a long time.” 

“I’m fine.” You opened your door to find a plastic bag in your seat. Dick saw your questioning look. 

“I got you some stuff. It’s close enough to lunch, so I figured we’ll just count this as our lunch stop.” You nodded before getting into the car. It was hot, but you kept the door shut. Dick stayed on the hood of the car, still eating his pizza. You were going to set the bag down without looking at it, but curiosity won out.

Inside you found a packaged sandwich, a bottle of water, and a chocolate bar. Your heart ached when you also saw the latest issue of your favorite magazine as well as a postcard. Dick moved, finishing his pizza and taking a drink of water. You took out the postcard before finding your gaze drifting over to watch Dick. He closed his eyes, leaning back to enjoy the sun for a moment.

You bit your lip to stop it from trembling. Damian’s words echoed in your head. If what Damian said was true, and everyone hated you for dishonoring your father’s legacy, why would Dick take you in? Shouldn’t he hate you too? It wasn’t like you made it easy for him. Why would he put up with you? He could refuse custody. You wondered where you would have gone if Dick didn’t take you in.

Dick glanced back at you, sensing your eyes on him. You flinched and quickly looked down at the postcard. It was a standard postcard, but it had a pretty landscape on it.  A minute later, Dick’s door opened. A cool breeze hit you, ruffling your hair. You heard him get in before starting the car. Your eyes stayed on the postcard. 

“I figured you could send it to Alfred. He’d like to hear from you. Maybe you could reassure him that we’re not just eating junk food,” Dick said, watching you. The car began to cool as the AC started working. 

“Okay,” you whispered, swallowing past a lump in your throat. Alfred probably hated you too. That’s why he didn’t let you stay with him either.  

Dick sighed before backing out of the parking spot and driving back onto the road. You put the postcard away.

“Why don’t you eat something?” Dick said softly after a moment of silence. “We got about another four hours left.” 

You hummed, looking out the window. The car was quiet for several minutes. You were thankful for it.

Of course, it couldn’t last. Dick took a breath. “Did I ever tell you about the time when Wally, Garth, Roy, Donna, and I attempted a camping trip during a hurricane?” He kept rambling on. You half listened, watching the landscape go by and counting down the minutes until you could get out of the car.

***

Dick pulled the car into the driveway of a dark blue little house. The other houses on the block were about the same size, although different colors. “If you look over there, you can see the top of the big tent. This town was basically created when I moved Haly’s winter home here. Although, we find we make a pretty good profit staying here year round, we do take it on the road once and a while,” Dick said as he parked the car. 

Had you gone to heaven? Could it be that you were finally here and you could get away from the incessant talking? You stepped out of the car once he turned off the engine. It was muggy and hot. Nothing like Gotham. You stretched. Dick kept talking, but you stopped listening to focus on your stretches. Two days in the car made everything stiff particularly your left calf. You’ll have to make sure you stretch it more than normal until it loosened. 

“Hey Dick, you’re finally back,” a red headed man said, jogging over from next door. “We missed you.” Dick and the man shared a man hug. You stared at the two. Your gut twisted with a sense of dread. 

“Hey Roy.” Dick smiled before turning to you. You did your best to look disinterested. “Roy, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Roy Harper. Roy is in charge of security for Haly’s.” 

“Hi, kid.” Roy gave you a partial wave. You just nodded at him. Roy stared back at you before whispering something to Dick. You rolled your eyes, grabbing your duffel from the backseat.

“(Y/N), why don’t you head in?” Dick tossed you the keys. You caught them easily. “You can find your room. It’s upstairs on the left.” 

Without saying anything, you headed to the house. The men were still talking behind you, but you couldn’t hear them. It’s just as well. Nothing good comes from whispering like that.

The door opened to the kitchen, which was bigger than you thought it would be. You followed it into the living room, eyeing the Flying Graysons poster that hung over the TV. The sight of it made you sigh. “This is like a prison,” you mumbled before heading upstairs. 

Your room faced over the backyard. You sat down on the bare mattress to look out the window with your duffel beside you. Lost in your thoughts, you wished more than anything that your dad was still alive. You opened your duffel and pulled out your Robin suit. 

Alfred must have cleaned it, because the blood was gone. You pressed it into your face, breathing in the clean scent of leather and armor. No one said you couldn’t bring it with you. If you didn’t, it would have just sat down in the unused batcave. You earned this suit. It was one of the most precious things your father had ever given you. 

You started to sob, unable to stop it. Damian was right. You tarnished your father’s legacy. Despite the years you trained and slaved to finally be Robin, you were the one who got him killed and broke his one rule. You didn’t deserve this suit anymore. You didn’t deserve anything good anymore. The rest of your life should be punishment for the life you took and the one you didn’t save.

With your face pressed into your suit, you didn’t hear Dick and Roy come in with boxes from the car until it was too late. 

“Roy, just leave the rest of the boxes in the living room,” Dick whispered to Roy, setting his box down. Roy put down his box before escaping from the room. You tensed as the floor creaked. The bed sank beside you. Dick’s arm wrapped around you. He pulled your suit out of your grasp and tossed it away. “It’s going to be okay, kiddo. I promise.” His fingers ran through your hair. You cried into his chest, because there was no other option. 

Time passed. Eventually, you calmed down, shaking violently in Dick’s arms. He kissed the top of your head. “I’ll go bring your bedding and make up the bed. You should take a nap.” You pulled away from him. Your arms crossed, feeling exposed from the outburst. 

The truth was you were willing to make this work with Dick. You could live out these years in peace until you turned eighteen. Then, you could go home to the manor, even though no one would be there, but maybe that’s was your punishment. Forever alone.

However, your eyes followed Dick as he quickly scooped up your Robin suit. “Where are you going with that?” you snapped. Dick kept walking out of the room only turning to face you once he reached the doorway. 

“You can’t keep this, (Y/N).” Dick gave you a stern look. “You weren’t supposed to bring this with you. I thought Alfred discussed this with you. You are not Robin anymore and you won’t be again.” 

“Give it back,” you growled, climbing over the bed to stare him down. “You can’t take it away from me.” 

Dick’s expression hardened. “Actually, I can. I’m your guardian. Believe me, (Y/N), this is for your own good, even if you can’t see it now.” He started to shut the door. “I’ll be back with your bedding.” 

You lost it. That promise for peace disappeared in smoke. You sprinted at him, screaming profanities. Dick shut the door before you could reach him. You ran straight into the door with a bang. The door handle wouldn’t move. Dick was holding it from the other side.

“I hate you, Dick! All you ever do is hurt me! I hope you burn in hell and I never see you again!” You pulled at the handle, but it didn’t open. “I hate you! I hate you!” A primal scream escaped you, bleeding your rage and pain into the air. You gave up on the door, giving it one swift kick. “Don’t you dare come in here again! I’ll kill you! Do you hear me?! I’ll kill you!” 

Your screams were only met with silence. It was kinda soothing. Your throat was raw as you sank down onto the floor. The floor was hard on your back. You stared up at the ceiling. The pain and rage were eating you alive. Now, you had a mission. You would make Dick’s life a living hell until he let you go. He took the last piece you had of your dad, and he was not going to get away with it.

***

You spent the night on the floor. The bedding never came, which probably best, because you would have made good on that death threat. After all, you had already ruined everything. What’s another sin? You had nothing left to lose. 

It was almost ten in the morning when someone knocked on your door. “If that’s you, Dick. I told you to go to hell,” you hissed.

“It’s not Dick.” Your door opened to reveal Donna Troy with a tray of food. The smell of the food reached you, and your stomach rumbled. “Hi, I’m Donna. Dick had to go take care of some things, so he asked me to come by.” She entered your room and set the tray on floor next to you. “You should eat.” 

You eyed the tray, willing yourself not to eat. “No, thanks,” you said coldly. Donna looked at you until you met her eye. You narrowed your eyes at her.

“Well, I’ll leave that here anyway. You can eat when you’re hungry.” She turned to look at the bare mattress. “We should make your bed. Sleeping on the floor will mess up your back.” 

Donna left to grab your bedding. You eyed the food tray before stealing a quick bite. Fine, you didn’t want to give her the satisfaction, but maybe you could eat. The food was quickly inhaled by you. You couldn’t stop yourself. Donna came back to an empty tray. 

She gave you a little smile. “Why don’t you bring that tray to the kitchen and bring up your other boxes?” You slowly got up. Your back did hurt from sleeping on the floor. Damn her for being right. Donna began to make your bed. You escaped downstairs, studying the walls as you went. Dick had to have some kind of secret room in here where he kept his old Nightwing suit. He had to put your Robin suit in there.

You set the tray by the sink in the kitchen. Something caught your eyes. A little unevenness in the wall paint by the front door. You looked around to make sure Dick or someone wouldn’t suddenly appear. Silently, you approached the spot and prodded around until you heard a click. The wall slid open to reveal a control panel with a mini keyboard.

“Yes,” you whispered. You typed in his name. Nothing. Different variations of his name and alter egos. Nothing. You tried the name of his circus, his parent’s names, names of his friends. Nothing worked. “Damn it.” You bit your lip when you heard Donna walking down the steps. Quickly, you hit the spot to hide the panel again before busying yourself by washes dishes. 

Donna came beside you and started drying the dishes. “We should finish getting your room organized after this,” she said. You just focused on scrubbing away at the plate. “Then I thought we could go for a walk and I could show you around.” 

You nodded stiffly, eyeing the part of the wall. The password had to something personal, but what?

***

The day with Donna dragged on slowly. Eventually, closer to dinner time, you got a chance to come up with ideas for the password. It had to be something important. You scribbled down ideas in a notebook while Donna made a salad to go along with dinner. Dick was supposed to bring home the main meal.

“I’m home,” Dick called as he came through the door. You tensed from your seat on the couch, not looking up. The smell of pizza floated through the air. Your stomach rumbled slightly.

“Hi, Dick,” Donna said. The pizza box was set onto the table. You shivered slightly when you heard Dick move closer to Donna.

“How did it go today?” he whispered, so softly you almost didn’t hear.

Donna hummed. “I couldn’t get them to talk, but otherwise pretty good.” The weight of Dick’s gaze fell on you. You wrote ‘asshat’ as one of the potential passwords. It made you smile, even though it was highly unlikely.

Dick sighed before the floor creaked as he approached you. You quickly shut your notebook. He sat down beside you, leave a generous amount of space between you.

The silence grew out for a long time. Donna watched the two of you from the kitchen. “Are we okay?” Dick asked softly. You stole a quick glance at him to find him making that face. The ‘I’m trying so hard and you’re being so mean’ face. You felt the cold rock that you imagined your heart to be melt away.

“Sure, whatever,” you grumbled, tapping your pen against the cover of the notebook. Maybe letting him think everything was okay would be a good thing. It would give you time to figure out the password. 

Dick grinned. Suddenly, your face was in his chest as he pulled you into a tight hug. “Good. I just want you to be happy, kiddo.” He kissed the top of your head. “I love you so much.” 

You tensed at his words, remembering when you were four and you heard those words from him all the time. A lump grew in your throat. Damn him, he was playing dirty. “Whatever,” you choked out.

“Come on, let’s eat. I’m sure you’re hungry,” Dick said cheerfully, pulling away from you with your hand in his. You kept your notebook firmly in your free hand. Donna was watching you. From the look in her eye, you knew she knew you weren’t really okay. However, you forced yourself to be pleasant if only to give yourself opportunities to get into Dick’s secret room.

***

Weeks passed and you settled into a routine. You woke up at five in the morning to go on a run. This was a quiet time for you to collect your thoughts. Dick would be up by the time you came back, waiting in the kitchen for you. Then, you both would have cereal together in which Dick spent the whole time talking about his day.

Then it was a toss up. Some days, Dick dragged you to work with him or let you stay home. During the days you stayed home, you worked on figuring out his password. So far, you went through four sheet of notebook paper, but still had no luck. You didn’t realized this until looking back, but your obsession with Dick’s password made your headaches go away. 

No matter what you did during the day, you and Dick would have dinner. You took turns, since you were taught to cook by Alfred and Dick had little to no skill in the kitchen. Once everything was cleaned up, Dick would kiss your head and send you off to bed. During those times, you knew he was going into his secret room. It burned you that he thought he could keep it a secret from you.

“So I was thinking we could have a little barbecue,” Dick said over a dinner of stove top mac and cheese and frozen vegetables. It had been Dick’s night to cook. You gave him a blank look, but he continued, staying upbeat. “That way you can get to know people your age.” 

“Are you trying to make me make friends?” You narrowed your eyes at him. It wasn’t like you never tried to make friends. You did when you were younger, but those friendships didn’t last and once you began training to be Robin, they became unimportant. 

Dick grinned at you. “You make it sound like I’m making you clean the house or something,” he laughed.

“That would be preferable.” You took some satisfaction when his smile faded slightly. 

“Sometimes you remind me so much of your brother.” Dick looked back down at his food. 

“That’s insulting, Never say that again,” you replied, suddenly losing interest in your food. You remembered Damian telling you how you ruined your father’s legacy and your hand shook slightly. Things were getting better, but you could feel it slipping back. Dick looked up at you, surprised and confused. 

“Did something happen between you and Damian?” Dick studied you worriedly.

“No,” you snapped, moving your food around your plate.

Dick bit his lip. “Well, anyway. I think we can throw it this weekend. We’ll keep it small.” 

You rolled your eyes. A whole bunch of words to describe how you felt about this situation was going on your list of possible passwords. They would all be wrong, of course, but you still might try them for laughs if anything.

“Anyway, I was thinking you could make some kind of dessert for the barbecue. Alfred taught you all his secrets,” Dick chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. Instead, you started to feel even sicker. Alfred didn’t want you either. You didn’t realize how much you missed Alfred until Dick said it.

“Whatever.” You got to your feet. “I’m going to lay down.” Quickly as you could, you tried to leave the room, but Dick blocked you.

“Wait, kiddo.” He laid a hand on your forehead. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.” You pushed away from him and ran up into your room. Once there, you laid down on your bed and willed everything to go away for a while.

***

“So have you seen the ocean yet?” Cerdian asked. He shifted awkwardly beside you with a cup of lemonade in his hand. 

“Well, Gotham was by the ocean, so yes.” You eyed him carefully. The poor boy blushed. He gave his dad, Garth aka Tempest, a long suffering look. Garth didn’t notice, too busy talking to Dick and Wally. You wondered why you didn’t just lock yourself in your room and refuse to come out. 

Cerdian may not know what to say, but he was the bravest of the bunch.  You see Irey, Jai, Lian, and a few others you didn’t know hanging out in a little clique. The rest hadn’t approached you and probably won’t even try.

Dick may have wanted you to make friends, but this wasn’t how to do it. None of these people wanted to be friends with you. It’s like Dick forgot Damian existed and how Damian burned down all the possibilities of any friendships with these people since he had been a jerk to them the whole time he was Robin. Of course, all Damian’s actions had been translated onto you like you didn’t have enough sins of your own.

“Hey, Cerdian. Come over here,” Irey called. Cerdian gave you a tight smile before running away. You watched him go and be welcomed into the little group. With a familiar lonely ache in your chest, you got yourself some lemonade before sitting on the back steps to look around the party. At least people seemed to be eating the brownies you made.

You were about to give up and go inside when Dick came over to you. He was already making that face again. “(Y/N), where are you going?” Dick asked, sitting down beside you. He grabbed your arm and pulled you back down next to him. 

“Inside.” He ran his hand through his hair, clearly annoyed with you. “This isn’t going to work.” Why did he have to make you feel bad? You hated him for it.

“You haven’t even tried, (Y/N),” Dick said sternly. You flinched. “I saw you talk to one person and that’s it.” 

“No one here likes me.” You kept your face blank despite how your lips wanted to pull down into a frown at your words. 

Dick blinked. “How do you know that? You can’t know that unless you talk to people.” He gestured over to the clique of kids. “Approach them, talk about something.” You must have give him a look of disbelief. “I’ll come with you if you want.” 

“No.” Your cheeks heated up at the very thought. “Leave me alone.” Dick sighed, resting a hand on your shoulder. You saw Wally, Donna, Roy, and Garth all staring at you as if you were a powder keg ready to blow. Maybe you were.

“Why do you have to be so much like your dad?” Dick muttered. Your eyes widened. Suddenly, you were back in the warehouse with the smell of smoke, rotting fish, and iron. There was the wet crack and you saw the flap of Batman’s cape as he fell down to the floor. 

Your fist cracked against his chin. Dick stumbled off the stairs from the impact, stunned. The blood drained out of your face. Silence filled the air before you turned and ran into the house. You started toward the front door only to see Wally appear in front of you, vibrating. Other footsteps were following you. You jumped the railing on the stairs just as a hand grabbed the back of your shirt. 

“No, you don’t, little monster,” Roy growled, pulled you hard enough for you to slam into the floor. You saw stars. Your leg shot out blindly and connected with his face. He swore, holding his face while you rolled to your feet only to find Donna standing in front of you. Her face was a mask of anger and protectiveness. You swallowed hard, staring up at her with wide eyes. 

Wally grabbed you from behind and dragged you to your feet. He held your arms behind your back. “Don’t hurt them,” Dick said, appearing in the doorway with Garth. He was holding his jaw. You fought against Wally’s hold. All you wanted was to go to your room. 

“Dick, they hurt you,” Donna said, placing one hand on your shoulder. She squeezed hard enough to hurt a little. 

“I told you they were a monster. You should have left them in Gotham,” Roy groaned, still holding his nose. Your breath left your lungs at his words. You waited for Dick to say something, but he stayed quiet. It hurt that he didn’t defend you. Of course, you had just punched him in the face, but you expected him to say something. 

“Yeah, I’m just a monster, a murderer. What can you expect from me?” Your voice was dangerously low. Wally tightened his grip on you. Donna did the same. Dick just studied you. “But I guess I should be asking you that. What can I expect from you, Dick? Are you going to leave me again?” 

“Leave you? Honey, I’ve been here this whole time. I took you in when you didn’t have anywhere else to go, but I don’t know what to do anymore. You make this so hard,” Dick admitted, making that face at you. 

Your rage erupted. You yanked against their hold on you, wanting to hurt Dick like he hurt you. “You left me! What did you think?! That you could raise me for a year and just hand me off with no regrets!” You sunk your elbow into Wally’s stomach. He groaned, but kept his hold on you.  Dick looked startled. “Come on, you idiot. You honestly thought I was mad at you for years because I was jealous of Damian! Do you know me at all?!” 

“Oh, kiddo,” Dick sighed, reaching out to run his fingers through your hair. You snarled at him, attempting to bite his hand.

“No, you don’t get that. You don’t just get to have me now that Dad’s dead. You don’t get leave me and expect me to just love you again. I hate you,” you hissed. Dick flinched, on the verge of tears. Good. He made you cry for a long time. It’s about time you return the favor. 

Donna stepped between you and Dick. Her hand stayed on your shoulder as you attempted to wrench your wrists from Wally’s grip. Your wrists were aching, but you twist one to sink your nails into Wally’s wrist. Wally gasped, letting you go. You tried to jerk your shoulder out of Donna’s grasp, but she just held on tighter. There was going to be a bruise there in the morning. 

“You both need to clear your heads,” Donna said. “I’ll take (Y/N) to their room. Dick, you stay down here, okay? I’ll be back.” Without another word, Donna grabbed you by the back of the neck and held you up the stairs. Tears stun your eyes, her fingers pinching your neck. More bruises for the morning.

She shoved you into your room. “Dick has done a lot for you. He didn’t owe you anything.” Donna towered in your doorway. You glared at her, but turned to go sit on your bed. “You should be grateful he didn’t just throw you in prison for what you did. I want you to think about that.” She slammed the door behind her. You heard the outside lock click. When had that been installed? It wasn’t there when you moved in.

Feeling like a monster, you rubbed the back of your head to feel the tender spot. The truth was Donna was wrong. Dick did owe you something. That year he raised you had been one of the best in your life. He was there all the time. He took care of you. While you loved your father, he was not the best dad. Dick was until he abandoned you and never really came back. Sure you saw him a few times a year, but it was never the same.

Dick owe you an explanation, even an apology. Though you weren’t sure you wanted that, but he had to give you something. The hurt of being abandoned doesn’t go away in a snap of the fingers. It stays with you, no matter how many times you try to convince yourself that you didn’t really love him and didn’t need his love or attention. 

You laid down on your bed, wincing when you hit the soft spot on the back of your head. Your shoulder, wrists, and neck throbbed. The notebook filled with passwords laid just in reach. You opened it, looking through all the words you thought would work. None of them had yet. However, you were more determined then ever now. 

Rolling onto your stomach, you grabbed your phone to find the nearest airport and bought a ticket back to Gotham with your father’s credit card. It went through, meaning Lucius didn’t close the account yet. You sighed in relief before turning to work on the passwords. If you didn’t figure it out tonight, you’ll just break in and grab your suit. Then, you’d be out of here.

***

The party ended hours ago. You listened to the yard quiet down as people went home. However, there was talking coming from the living room, so you guessed Dick’s friends must still be there. You sat on your bed and stared at the ceiling, waiting until you could sneak out. Your duffel was already packed and sitting by the door. All you needed was to get your Robin suit. 

It was almost ten when it finally was quiet through the whole house. You got up and crept over to the door and picked the lock. It creaked when you opened it, you froze, holding your breath. Nothing moved. You sighed in relief before grabbing your duffel and moving quietly as you could downstairs. 

The living room was dark. Dick must have gone to bed. You were just about to step off the bottom step when the living room lamp clicked on, blinding you. 

“Crap,” you mumbled. Your eyes adjusted to find Dick sitting in the armchair. He looked at you with a lost, hurt expression. A lump formed in your throat, but you swallowed past it. 

“I knew you’d try to leave.” Dick got to his feet with a groan. He looked a lot older than he was in this light. “You always were a runner.” You turned away from him, trying to keep it together. “I remember you ran off on me so many times, but I usually found you before you got too far except one time.” He sighed. “You were gone for hours. We were searching everywhere until Alfred mentioned you were probably going to go somewhere familiar. That’s when it hit me. You would go to the manor.” Dick chuckled, laying a hand on your shoulder. “I found you laying in Bruce’s old bed, fast asleep.” 

You frowned, remembering that day. If you were honest, you were planning to do the same thing when you left tonight. “Why are you talking about this now?” 

Dick’s hand squeezed your shoulder. “I’m an idiot.” You couldn’t help, but smirk slightly. “I should have known. I should have listened. I shouldn’t have left you like that.” He turned you around. Your smirk fell from your lips when you saw the tears in his eyes. “But I was stupid.” 

“You’re stupid all the time, but that doesn’t explain why you did it? Why did you leave me?” You glared back at him, every ounce of hurt resurfacing. 

“Giving you up was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” Dick’s hand trembled as it slid up to rest in your hair. “It wasn’t the same as Damian. Damian was my brother, he was older, but you were so young. You became my kid. I wanted more than anything to keep you when your dad came back, but I knew it was wrong. He was your dad, not me.” 

Tears ran down your cheeks. You couldn’t stop them. “But you didn’t have to disappear. You could have been there more, so at least made sure to see me when you came to visit. I thought you hated me.”

Dick pulled you into his arms. His tears falling into your hair. “I love you so much, (Y/N). I never hated you.” You hid your face into his shoulder. “Staying away meant that Bruce could step up as your dad. I didn’t want to get in the way of that. You were always coming to me when you had a nightmare or you wanted to show off a picture you drew. Every time you passed Bruce up for me, and I saw how hurt he was.” Dick took a shaky breath. “It was wrong to leave you like that, and I hurt you more than I can ever say, but you got your dad.” 

“Until I lost him.” You pulled away from Dick, narrowing your eyes. “That was dumb to leave like that. I would have gotten used to him again. I was only four. There is no quota on how many father figures one person can have.” 

“No, there isn’t. I told you I was an idiot. I didn’t think it through.” He studied you, looking at you with love. “Alfred told me I was an idiot too when I told him, but you know how stubborn I am.” 

You snorted, looking away. “You protesting me becoming Robin made it worse. I was finally joining the family, and you didn’t want me.” 

Dick ran his fingers through your hair like he always did. “I didn’t want you to get hurt.” He closed his eyes. “You did get hurt.” You had a flash of the bloody knife in your hand and your father’s body on the ground. Your body started to shake, but Dick kissed your forehead to bring you out of it. “I want to show you something.” He took your hand and led you over to the spot in the wall where the panel was.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, faking surprise when the keyboard appeared. Dick rolled his eyes.

“I know you knew about this. I get alerts every time it’s gets a wrong password.” Dick smirked when you swore under your breath. You should have known better. “Did you really think my password would be asshat?” 

“Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time,” you said, eyeing him carefully. Dick shook his head before typing in the password slow enough you could see it. It was your name. “You got to be kidding me.” 

“You never left my heart, (Y/N), even if I wasn’t there for you.” Dick ruffled your hair. “You’re my kid.” A warm feeling of being loved filled you. You hadn’t felt that in a long time. 

The secret door slid open to reveal Dick’s small office. The Nightwing suit was in the corner on display. You were shaken to your core at the sight of your Robin suit next to his. Running over, you reached out to touch the sleeve just to make sure it was okay.

“It has to stay here if you stay. You have to be retired with me,” Dick said, leaning against the door frame. You looked back at him in surprise.

“If?” You raised an eyebrow. Dick sighed, going over to his computer. He pulled up the plane ticket you purchased. 

“I had a long talk with my friends and I realized you shouldn’t be forced to stay here if you’re not happy.” He turned to look at you.”I want you to be happy, (Y/N). It was always my priority, still is. If you stay, it has to be because you want to.” He closed the program and you got a glimpse at his desktop.  It was a picture of you in front of the Eiffel tower, taken only about a year ago when you and your dad were on a mission in Paris. You had sent it to Alfred to let him know you were having fun. Alfred must have given it to Dick. 

Your heart ached as you bit your lip to think. Ever since Dick had dragged you here, you wanted to leave and now he was letting you. Somehow, leaving didn’t feel as good anymore. You realized you didn’t want to be alone, even though something inside told you it was what you deserved. 

Dick looked at you, waiting for your answer without judgement. You found yourself saying something you would have never thought you would say a hour before. “I want to stay. Please let me stay.” You ran into his arms. Dick hugged you tightly.

“Forever if you want,” Dick whispered in your ear. You could feel him smiling. “I love you so much, kiddo.” 

“I love you too.” You tightened your arms around him as if he was your life line. The future no longer looked so bleak and alone. 

#batfamily #batfamily imagine #nightwing #nightwing imagine #dick grayson #dick grayson imagine #dc comics imagines #dc reader insert #batfamily reader insert #batman #batman imagine

[pertinax--loculos]

Encounter

|| it’s lonely where you are / come back down / and i won’t tell em your name ||

[WIP: Hellbent]

Words: 1380

POV: Raleigh

Content Warnings: vague allusion to drug use | cursing, always

Context: Raleigh meets Dash for the first time

Notes: basically the last half of the chapter one I finally wrote. The first half is setup and doubles the wordcount so eh. However! I do like a lot of this. So. Enjoy!

***

"Try the drawers."

Raleigh yelped and spun, his light swirling around the room as he frantically searched for the source of the voice. His heart felt like it was going to break out of his chest, the warm flush of adrenaline surging through his limbs, breath coming in panicked hiccups as he wondered if he'd somehow imagined-

There. A figure, sprawled in the corner nearly opposite the door by the low table. Raleigh wasn't sure how he'd missed him, even with the dark clothing.

He managed to steady his hand enough to get a good look at him, too breathless to say anything yet.

His eyes were blue. It was a weird thing for Raleigh to notice, but they were vivid even in the low light, their colour so intense they hardly seemed real.

The second thing Raleigh noticed was his smirk.

That actually served to calm him down a little, and he set his jaw. He stepped forward in order to throw more light on the stranger.

"Oh, okay," he said, managing to keep his voice steady despite the fact his heart was still banging against his ribcage. "I get it. Is this Peter's idea of a joke?"

The stranger narrowed his eyes, raising a hand to block the light. "Who the hell is- wait. You think I'm fucking working with you fundie dicks? The fuck gave you that impression?"

Raleigh had to fight not to splutter. Between the cursing, the casual use of the insult for Members, and the denial of being in on the test, his nervousness was abruptly back full force.

The smirk on the stranger's face intensified. "Take your time. And get that fucking light out of my face."

Raleigh lowered his phone without thinking, still struggling to come up with an appropriate course of action. Just ignoring the stranger was probably the best one, though it didn't account for the curiosity he could feel starting to creep through the shock.

"But- then, why'd you tell me to look in the drawer?" he said before he could help himself.

The stranger leaned forward; Raleigh flinched as there was a slight hissing and a couple of clicks and then light flooded the room. He blinked in the relative brightness; the guy had lit some sort of lantern that was sitting on the low table.

Raleigh glanced over his shoulder at the window, wondering what the guys outside would make of the sudden light.

"Relax, Pretty Boy." The voice and the form of address made Raleigh look back quickly, narrowing his eyes in disapproval. The stranger didn't seem to care. "They'll just think you found it and lit it yourself. You'll probably end up getting extra points for ingenuity."

The curiosity surged to the forefront again. "What- how do you know so much about this? I mean, you're obviously not a Member..."

"Obviously." He seemed pleased by that, smirking again. Raleigh waited, but he didn't elaborate.

"So then how-"

"Because once a year, every year, you fucks come tramping all through my house on some moronic fucking induction assignment, and I've kinda been forced to observe what it involves." The stranger leaned over to the table once more, swiping up something that Raleigh only identified as a packet of cigarettes when he removed one. "So like I said. Try the drawers. I recommend the bottom one." He winked.

Raleigh stared at him for a beat. He was pretty good at keeping a straight face, if he didn't say so himself, but that was under normal circumstances. Listening to someone refer to the induction process of one of the most prestigious organisations within the Church as moronic was not normal circumstances. He was dimly aware that his mouth was open.

The stranger lit the cigarette and then looked back at Raleigh. He arched a single eyebrow, blowing out a lungful of smoke. "Problem?"

Many and varied. All Raleigh said was, "This is your house?"

The smirk returned. "I live here. That makes it mine, doesn't it?"

"You live here?"

"Contrary to what your cult might be telling you, opportunities for those that don't subscribe to your insane beliefs are fucking few and far between. Needs must."

Raleigh snapped his mouth shut at the word cult, his anger only building as the guy kept talking. He whirled around, stalking back over to the vanity. He wasn't even going to dignify that with a response.

"Ah, I've upset you. Sorry, Pretty Boy. Just calling it like I see it."

That name again. Raleigh opened the bottom drawer with unnecessary force. Despite the stranger's confidence, he was still somewhat surprised to see the coil of rope.

He snatched it out of the drawer and turned on his heel, planning to march straight out of the room and not even hesitate until he reached Jasper and the others outside.

He made it three steps before he stopped, looking back to the blue-eyed stranger in the corner.

"Thanks," he said stiffly.

The stranger's head jerked up. Raleigh's course towards the door had brought him closer than he had been, and their eyes met.

"No problem," the stranger said, almost cautiously.

He was genuinely surprised to have been thanked, Raleigh realised. He wondered how many times the guy had done this; helped out Brotherhood Inductees, allowing them to complete their first assignment quickly and efficiently, and if any of them had acknowledged the assistance. Probably not, if he'd spoken to them the same way he'd spoken to Raleigh.

His curiosity won out once more and he took a small step closer.

"You really live here?" he said. "I mean, like all the time?"

The stranger shrugged, then looked away as he ashed his cigarette straight onto the floor beside him. "Rent's cheap."

From here Raleigh could get a better look at him. He had dark hair and the shadow of a couple days' stubble; it highlighted his cheekbones and his jawline, which were already pronounced thanks to the skinniness of his face. He was wearing a hunter green jacket, the sheepskin lining visible where the collar was turned down.

Abruptly he cut his eyes back to Raleigh. "You a student?"

Raleigh blinked, startled. "Uh, yeah. Second year. I'm studying psychology."

That got him another eyebrow raise. "Wasn't aware they offered anything other than theology."

Raleigh shrugged, unable to stop the automatic defensiveness from bleeding into his voice. "I've been studying theology my entire life. Maybe I'd like to broaden my horizons. And, y'know." He couldn't stop his eyes flickering away. "Help people."

The stranger's gaze was like a physical weight, and Raleigh shifted underneath it. In the back of his mind he knew he should get out of there, hurry up and get back to the others, but he couldn't quite convince his feet to move.

"Good for you, Pretty Boy," the stranger finally said. There wasn't any sarcasm or scorn or disbelief in his voice, and when Raleigh looked at him even his face looked genuine. He stubbed out his cigarette, continuing without looking back at Raleigh. "You ever wanna broaden your horizons to include those outside of your little cult's bubble, feel free to drop by."

Raleigh scowled at him, any charitable feelings he might have been starting to develop evaporating. He shifted the rope on his shoulder, lifting his chin a little.

"I doubt that'll be necessary. Thanks again for your help."

The stranger smiled, pulling something from his jacket pocket. "Sure."

Raleigh started back to the door, trying to ignore the rattle of whatever it was the guy was doing. But his steps slowed as he approached the doorway, before he found himself turning back once again.

"Um," he said eloquently.

The stranger looked up from where he was tipping something into his palm. "Forget something?"

"It's just..." Raleigh had to force himself not to shift his weight. "I'm Raleigh. Just to- just so you don't have to call me... anything else."

The grin the stranger gave him was borderline dazzling. He threw whatever it was in his palm into his mouth and swallowed it down with a mouthful from a bottle he produced from nowhere.

"Good to know, Pretty Boy," he said. "I'm Dash.”

***

Taglist (just ask to be added/removed): @adie-dee @bogbodybitch

#WIP: Hellbent #excerpt #original writing #writeblr #writing

[omgjasminesimone]

Facetime

Raleigh x MC (Cadence Dorian)

Author’s Note: This is the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written, I’m kind of embarrassed, haha. Set at some indeterminate point in the future when Raleigh and Cadence are officially together, no more fake relationship.

Rating: NSFW

Summary: Raleigh and Cadence make do with phone calls and facetime while they’re both on tour.

Word Count: ~1550

Raleigh closes the door to his hotel room firmly, he even puts his ear to the door to make sure his security team is retiring to their own hotel rooms and leaving him alone. He’s satisfied when their retreating footsteps become inaudible.

He tosses off his leather jacket, walking to the large window and looking out at his hometown, San Juan, Puerto Rico. Of course, Raleigh didn’t grow up on the nice side of town where his 5-star resort is located. Raleigh’s old barrio features no high rises or high-end boutiques. Here in the penthouse suite of San Juan’s nicest hotel, Raleigh knows he’s really made it. He closes the curtains, losing the nighttime view.

Raleigh glances at the clock. 10:28 pm. No time for a shower, he’ll just take one afterwards. Raleigh kicks off his sneakers and socks, grabbing his phone off the desk before making himself comfortable on the queen mattress. His eyes are glued to his phone as he waits, so he admires his phone background.

It’s a paparazzi shot of him and Cadence, walking hand and hand eating ice cream cones. It was taken back when they were ‘pretending’. But the unmasked affectionate in both their eyes makes it obvious it was already real, even if it took them a long time to admit it to themselves. He smiles when his phone screen alights, ‘Corazon’ flashing across the screen. Of course, she’s right on time.

He answers before it can reach the second ring. “Hey babe.” He greets.

He can practically hear her smile. “Hi Raleigh.”

“Why is this an audio call? I thought we were facetiming.” Raleigh questions.

“I’m calling you through wifi because I don’t have service here in Beijing. And the wifi is weird, it’s too weak for facetime. I think it might have something to do with the firewall?” Cadence theorizes.

Raleigh frowns, running a hand through his hair. “I wanted to see you.”

“Aww, are you telling me heartbreaker Raleigh Carrera actually misses his girlfriend?” Cadence teases.

Raleigh expels an irritated breath, not having the energy for their usual banter. “Of course I miss you. I haven’t seen you in person for six weeks. I hate that we’re both on tour.” He admits sincerely.

Raleigh is only touring North and South America, but Cadence is on her first world tour. Raleigh’s team forced him to do one world tour after his first album, but he hated it. It was exhausting, flying from country to country, shows every other day. Now that he’s a bigger star with more power over his own career, he’s refused to do it again. But Cadence has no such power at her label yet.

“I miss you too baby. I can’t wait to see you in New York next week. I’m so excited to take a break for a whole week. I might sleep the whole time.” Cadence reveals.

“Well, I can agree with you not leaving the bed all week. I’m not sure how much sleeping you’ll be doing.” Raleigh says suggestively, picturing all the things he wants to do to her.

“Oh? And how will we pass all that time in bed?” Cadence asks flirtatiously. He can hear water running in the background. She’s probably running a morning bath. It’s one of her pre-concert rituals.

Raleigh groans as he pictures her lithe nude form submerging in the warm water. “I wish I could see you. Phone sex is a lot more satisfying with visuals.”

Cadence laughs softly. “Raleigh, I’m a songwriter. I’ll paint you a picture with my words.” She’s put on her sexy, sultry voice. The one she only uses when they’re alone.  

“Well, in that case I’ll tell you exactly how we’ll pass the time.” Raleigh says, undoing his belt with his free hand and freeing himself from his jeans and boxers. He braces the phone with his shoulder as he quickly tosses his shirt off and to the floor. He reaches for the lotion on his nightstand, lathering a generous amount into his palm before gripping himself. He groans as he imagines it’s her soft hand instead of his own. “Get in the tub.” He demands.

“Ooh…so bossy.” Cadence teases as he hears the water slosh as she slides into the tub.

“You know you love it when I boss you around. And when I tie you up.” Raleigh strokes as he remembers that particularly memorable night at a hotel in Las Vegas. He strokes slowly at first, allowing the pleasure to build up.

“I do like to give you control sometimes, just because it’s different. We both know I have you wrapped around my little finger.” Raleigh frowns, and she must know he’s frowning, because she laughs, the sound like musical bells. Her giggles die down. “I’m sorry. Wasn’t trying to ruin the mood. You were supposed to be telling me what you’re going to do to me. Continue.”

Raleigh continues to stroke up and down his shaft slowly, eyes closing as he leans back into his pillow. He tries to keep his voice measured as he replies. “I don’t know if you deserve to know now.”

“Please Raleigh. I need you.” Cadence knows he loves when she pleads, when she begs.

He speeds up his strokes, squeezing himself a little roughly. “First, I’m going to rip all your clothes off. So don’t wear anything you care about when you come to my apartment.”  

“Noted. Maybe I’ll show up in that trench coat you like. With nothing underneath it.”

“Fuck, yes. You do that. We’re not going to make it all the way to my bedroom because it’s been way too long since I’ve been inside you, felt your walls tightening around me as you claw down my back….”

He hears the water sloshing in her bathtub, the squeak as her foot moves along the ceramic. “I want to feel you inside me…” Cadence mumbles, and from her breathy tone he knows she’s touching herself.

“I’m going to fuck you right there against the door. But first I’ll make sure you’re ready, I’ll touch you all over.” Raleigh promises.

“Where will you touch first?” Cadence asks, breathing unsteadily as her fingers move in and out of her sex.

“I’m going to plunge two fingers into your pussy.” Raleigh replies, and he can almost picture the blush rising on her cheeks at his crude words. “While my tongue laps at your nipples. I’ll keep going, fingers moving in and out, until you’re begging me to let you cum. After you beg, that’s when I’ll finally taste you. I’ll do that thing with my tongue that makes you lose your mind.” He swears, licking his suddenly dry licks as his hand continues moving.

There’s silence for a few moments besides both their heavy breathing as Cadence absorbs that. “Well, reciprocation is important. So once I get off, I’ll make sure you get off too. I’ll get on my knees, take you into my mouth….”

“Keep going.” Raleigh pleads, feeling himself getting close as his hips start to move with his hand’s actions as he pictures it.

“I’ll take you as deep as I can, and I’ll use my hand to take care of the rest of your hard cock. I’ll suck and lick until you cum in my mouth, and then I’ll swallow.”  

“Mgghhm.” Raleigh groans as he cums, ejaculating on his stomach accidentally. He sits up, grabbing a tissue from the nightstand. “Did you cum?” Raleigh asks as he cleans himself up.

“No….but I’m close.” Cadence informs him.

“Good, because we haven’t even gotten to the main event yet. At this point, I would pull you up to your feet, and we’d make out until we have to stop for air. Then I’d lift you up, pinning you against the door.”

“And I’d wrap my legs around your waist.” Cadence supplies. Raleigh hears a plop, her feet dropping into the water from the tub’s rim most likely. He also hears the small moans she’s letting out, confirming how close she is.

“I’ll slide inside you, slowly Cadence. Inch by inch, until we’re as close as we can possibly be.”

“Raleigh…” She moans, and he can picture her head falling back against the tub, fingers moving frantically as she chases her release.

“I’ll pull almost all the way out, before plunging back in. Faster, and faster, until you’re writhing Cadence. Until you can’t feel your legs. Until-“ Raleigh stops abruptly when he hears the dial tone. Raleigh pulls the phone away from his ear, looking at it in confusion. What the hell?

..

An hour later, Raleigh has showered and is getting ready for bed. He’s half heartedly watching a trashy telenovela when his phone rings. It’s an unknown number, which he usually wouldn’t answer, but he makes an exception.

“Hello?”

“Hey Raleigh.”

Raleigh smiles at the sound of Cadence’s voice. “Hey Corazon. What happened? You hang up on me?”

He can hear rustling, she’s fidgeting nervously. She doesn’t do that often nowadays. “I…dropped my phone in the tub.”

He laughs, loudly and non-apologetically. “You should have put me on speaker babe, left your phone on the counter.” His laughter continues as he imagines how hard she must have orgasmed to spasm and drop her phone into the bath.

“It’s not funny. It’s broken. And I just bought the newest iPhone too.” He can picture the pout that’s likely on her pretty lips.    

“You bought it? I have so much to teach you about fame babe. People give us phones.” Raleigh chastises.

“Well, I can’t get a new one until I’m back in the states. This is Fiona’s number if you need to reach me. Don’t send any dirty pictures to this number.”

“But you love those.”

“I know. Good thing I get to have you in person in a week.”

…

..

.

Author’s Note: I don’t have a Platinum taglist, so let me know if you’d like to be tagged in more Platinum stuff! I promise the next one will be less smutty.

#platinum #n*fw #raleigh carrera #raleigh x mc #choices fanfiction #choices #playchoices

[fusion-ego]

(I'm sorry in advance, Mattie ;w;) 💀💍🤕🧠📓for Evan

💀 Has your OC ever lost anyone to death? Multiple people? People close to them? How does the loss make them feel?

He lost his mother when he was about four years old after, well... We know what his dad did to her. To date she’s the only person he’s lost, to his knowledge, though he imagines he’s had other relatives pass. He was very close to his mother, being four and a mama’s boy, but in the end it obviously didn’t matter.

For a long time, before he knew she was dead and that his dad had killed her, losing her hurt him immensely and he felt betrayed that she had left and not taken him with her. Her being gone also led to, as a result of his father’s abusive actions, a lot of emotional immaturity (later becoming a lack of ability to express anything but extremes except in specific circumstances) and a deep set vulnerability, which his how Lochlier was able to draw him into her inner circle after they’d been friends a while.

Now, as an adult who knows his mother didn’t abandon him, and who has come to terms with her having died trying to start the process of getting him out of his father’s house, it still hurts him. He’s come to terms with it, but it’s still a feeling that always makes his chest ache - he never knew her, not really, and he wishes he would have had the chance to get to know her. And, of course, he’s always terrified to lose Ash because he has the same level of whole-hearted love and adoration for her that he, as a child, had for his mother. It’s not the same kind of love, but it’s just as intense.

💍 Does your OC have a specific item that is priceless to them but may (or may not) be completely worthless to someone else? Is there a story behind this item or is it just because they like it so much?

Evan has two items of this nature - the bracelet he wears at all times, and his mother’s wedding ring. The bracelet is something Ash made for and gave to him, and he wears it, again, at all times. He wouldn’t take it off if his life depended on it. His mother’s ring, well... Someone else may find value in it, but never the same value he finds. His attachment to both items is 100% sentimental, and losing either one would probably crush him. Although he has been thinking about giving the ring to Ash...

🤕 What is the worst injury your OC has ever suffered? Do they have any scars or lasting physical reminders of it? Do they get sick often or have any lasting medical conditions?

He won’t talk about it, and most people (including his wife) don’t even know about it, but the worst injury he ever received came when he was 14 and stood up to his dad for the first time. He ended up at the bottom of a flight of stairs with several broken ribs - one of which nearly punctured his lung it had snapped so severely, and this was primarily a result of lifelong malnutrition at his father’s hands. He has a very faded scar from the surgery it took to re-set his ribs into the proper position, as despite his body being in shit shape he heals quickly and the scar, while it may be known to Ash, doesn’t really look like anything terrible.

He doesn’t get sick often, but he did when he was younger because he would overeat when given the chance, which would leave him sick for days or weeks while his body tried to process the nutrients. Now, his body is stronger and he eats regularly enough that he’s in good shape. In terms of lasting conditions, he does need to be careful not to overexert himself, since he can never be sure his lungs aren’t permanently damaged from that ‘fall’ down the stairs.

🧠 Talk about your OCs mental health! Do they have any specific triggers or ways to practice self care? What are some things that are more difficult for them to do because of their mental health?

Evan’s primary response to trauma is to bottle it and put it away, and his mind helps him keep anything worse than what his dad usually did out of his mind for the most part... But calling him ‘worthless’ will give him a panic attack, and even the threat of not eating at least one meal a day will do the same thing to him but on a much worse scale.

Self-care for him usually amounts to a snack, a drink of water, and brushing out his hair, since eating and drinking keeps him out of fight-or-flight mode and reminds his body he’s not starving, and brushing his hair is soothing. He’ll also sometimes take a bath, and if Ash is around he’ll sometimes let her brush his hair and style it, since he trusts her very much and letting her play with his hair is about the only way he can let himself fully relax and not be The Strong One.

He has a lot of trouble indicating when he’s having a hard time in a way that other people will actually understand - most of his tells are nonverbal and were worked out specifically so that his friends growing up would understand and no one else at all would, and the verbal ones usually boil down to him verbally lashing out when he’s having a bad time.

His upbringing and the associated trauma made it very hard for him to feel comfortable being weak or not 100% in control of himself, so it all boils down to “this man doesn’t know how to ask for help and is unwilling to learn how because his brain refuses to acknowledge that there are people around him now who love him unconditionally and want nothing but the best for him”, as well as “this man has so much trauma and has built up so many walls to hide it from other people and hide from it, himself, that he has the emotional range of a teaspoon and can’t form attachments unless he’s in a very vulnerable state, which has a very long track record of working out poorly”.

📓 Write a typical diary/journal page by your OC! (or if you’d rather not, describe their journal. Do they keep one, why?)

Dear Journal,                     July 22, 2008

Been talking to Loch and Ash a lot lately. Tobi, too, sometimes. He’s around less often, I guess.

Ash keeps telling me I should talk to Loch about my dad, but you and I both know that’s not gonna happen, don’t we? I haven’t even told Ash anything specific, there’s no way I’m just spilling my guts to Loch about it. She’s great and all, but... Ugh. No.

Raleigh finally told all of us what we’ve known since Lily Rogers moved here - that she’s into chicks. We told her, “Duh, you’ve been drooling after Lily for two years, gay ass, you think we didn’t notice”. She laughed at that. She showed up to our hangout yesterday with the left side of her head shaved wearing combat boots, ripped jeans, a band tee, and a fucking short sleeved hawaiian shirt. That girl never does anything halfway, guess I shouldn’t have expected her to step politely out of the closet - nah, she kicked the door in half and emerged with like, a stylist and backup break dancers.

She was real confident when she showed up which was great. Then Kris called her hot and she turned into a tomato, it was hilarious.

It’s the same shit, different day with dad. But he actually went grocery shopping this week and didn’t put all of it in the locked basement pantry and fridge. There’s like, actual food in the kitchen! I’ll have to try not to make myself sick this time.

I’m also thinking about asking Ash out. I’ll probably wait, though, and see if we keep talking. I know it’s been like a year, but we’re only just now getting into talking about important stuff. What if she doesn’t like me once she realizes I’m an asshole with a shitty temper and probably going to end up killing her if we ever meet each other in real life? I wouldn’t blame her, but it would still suck.

Dad’s home.

Write tomorrow.

Jay   Evan

Evan kept a journal from about May 2007 until January 2009, but didn’t write in it often. It was a one-subject notebook filled primarily with angry pen doodles and short rants about his father, although he did have some regular entries in it like the one above. He documented a lot of what his dad actually did to him in that journal, and although he’ll tell anyone who asks that he threw it away years ago, it’s in his toolbox and sometimes he reads back through it.

#asks #answers #Manipulatore Series #Evan Bannister #oc questions #child abuse mention #trigger child abuse #ashencreations

[prosteticanimals]

10 Things Most People Don't Know About fireinsidemusic

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Millennials can be a hugely praised and self-assured generation. They can be a really optimistic generation. They may have a greater will need to obtain existence activities in lieu of to accumulate materials prosperity, While they do like to amass things that might help them to delight in These ordeals. Millennials are one of the most educated generation. Since the value tag of education and learning has become so superior and continuing to climb annually, Millennials have grown to be quite savvy with regards to their instructional decisions. Unlike past generations who observed training like a ritual and an investment in their potential, millennials perspective education as an price, Except if it'll empower them to be able to be an improved person. They be expecting instruction that can help them prepare for The brand new alternatives and problems of the age, as opposed to helping them by furnishing fact-primarily based info/understanding. The millennials wish to be challenged by pondering the long run And the way they will contribute to creating a greater society and surroundings. They do not experience the need to come to be "textbook intelligent / book worms".

They are aware that points can be quickly found on line by their very own unbiased action. These are the generation that boasts and thrive on information at finger "simply click". Inside of a world of open up use of knowledge, it will make very little sense to count on the classroom as being a Discussion board for that transfer of knowledge.

In its place, the students Considerably prefer to master in the stories and experiences of Other individuals. These shared stories and activities assistance them to augment their particular encounter by Understanding in the accomplishment and mistakes of others. This helps them avoid creating a similar blunders as their influencers. As a result, they like to speculate more in their money and time on these applications which help them to establish various methods that they could include into their thoughts and final decision-creating method, therefore building a new skill established.

We are unable to disregard The reality that millennials also are a generation of uncertainties and fluctuations. These are the era who likes to help keep switching their gadgets. They grew up with know-how where by anything was at their fingertips. It will become disheartening for them not to get what they want once they want it. The majority of the items have already been handed to them with a silver spoon. This helps make them truly feel entitled to get what they want with out putting in A lot exertion.

However They can be the major workforce of the businesses currently, they do not believe in lifelong work. Lifelong commitment is a fairy tale for the millennials. They generally soar from on career to another since they are often searching for some thing new and much better. These higher expectations turn out to be their downfall and can make them fewer economically steady than their mom and dad.

Millennials are listed here to remain! They are really young, vibrant and energetic and they're the longer term. They are great belongings which the world will have to harness and use. These are the generation which is revolutionizing the planet. They are the budding leaders of tomorrow. They adopt technological innovation and stimulus in the identical breadth. This era can also be a collaborative and social technology that includes a focus on comprehending and setting up their expertise by means of different kinds of medium to find out the responses. It can be for your educator like us to provide an arena for engagement and discovery along with be considered a information specialist and mentor. It can be for learning platform companies like Nirmiti Academy to give an explorative and experiential expertise and produce out their true probable in everyday life and at work. It is this transformational journey that we at Nirmiti Academy look ahead to every single day to master, unlearn and relearn Using these youthful and magical era - the Millennials!

If the above mentioned title confuses you, you may well be missing out on a few of the very best possibilities the world wide web has to offer. Meanwhile, other people are expanding their Professions, getting ready For brand spanking new life as business owners, or are learning new techniques or increasing their knowledge base, normally at little if any Charge.

How are they executing this?

These are accessing MOOCs, or Substantial Open Online Programs. Although platforms are actually offered from elite colleges like MIT and Stanford for virtually ten years, open-supply classes proceed to improve in amount and popularity. Now, even some local people colleges like Wake Specialized University,Situated outdoors Raleigh, NC, offers MOOCs to a global viewers. This growing availability suggests There's now an unbelievable variety of courses available to anybody using an internet connection, in spite of area.

Topics MOOCs cover can differ from contemporary robotics and astronomy to Roman architecture and the American Novel Due to the fact 1945. MIT, for example, has courses centered all-around Mathematics, Engineering, Power and Science, in addition to a stunning variety of lessons concentrating on the Humanities and Fantastic Arts. The University of Michigan gives programs ranging from "Storytelling for Social Modify" to Python, info analytics, and device Finding out. You can also just take Management classes from HEC Paris by way of MOOC, rated via the Economist as having the second strongest small business university alumni network on the planet.

Some MOOCs are intended to be taken for awareness attained, but lots of programs also give you a certification of completion via internet sites like Coursera.org. Certificates of completion--that are unique from class credits--typically cost about $50. Money assist is available for many who qualify.

Factors to Consider a MOOC

There are lots of reasons why a MOOC course could be best for you outside of time management, Despite the fact that most MOOCs allow pupils to work at their own rate, meaning they effortlessly suit into most schedules, Regardless of how busy. Other pros incorporate:

An opportunity to try out A serious just before paying out for faculty classes. Everyone trying to decide over a job path, for The very first time or due to a midlife adjust of path, is aware the aggravation of thinking "Imagine if I'm Incorrect about my choice? The amount money am I going to invest prior to I understand this isn't for me?" MOOCs are a great way to 'dip your toes' in, so to talk, prior to the headache of coping with standard higher education courses and common university prices. You may try out as many courses while you have time for till some thing actually sparks your interest.

Just take classes not available domestically. There are actually pretty much A huge number of MOOC courses obtainable on the web. Even when you reside in Boston (wherever Harvard, MIT, Tufts, Boston Faculty and Boston College are all Found) or Various other comparable College-dense locale, you are able to possibly come across a category or two as a result of MOOC choices not available to you domestically.

Discover (or relearn) a language for free. Not only can you're taking a overseas language program without cost by way of MOOCs, but because of courses taught at foreign universities, You can even train your ear by listening to indigenous speakers. Have a class taught within the language you should find out and comply with alongside employing English subtitles. The 2nd method is a terrific way to effectively double your Discovering, but only works if you already have not less than an intermediate grasp in the language.

If Mastering One more language isn't really large with your to-do checklist, it's possible it ought to be: In 2017, New American Financial state noted employer need for bilingual staff members more than doubled given that 2010. This demand from customers proceeds to grow. Finest languages to check? Spanish, Chinese, and Arabic.

Create up your resume with wanted competencies. Perhaps there is a far better job at work you know you can do, but your manager doesn't Feel you happen to be capable for it simply because you absence certain abilities. MOOCs are a great way to grow to be proficient in places like HTML coding, Search engine optimization analytics, or no matter what skill you have to come to be the ideal human being for that occupation.

Adhere to the backlinks in this article To find out more on a lot of MOOC classes. MOOCs can also be out there as a result of many different academic platforms, which include Coursera, Udemy, and edX. But MOOCs may be accessed directly via Each individual university, and can be found by making use of the following Google research restricting syntax entered into your google lookup bar:

internet site:edu MOOC subject

By way of example, if I enter web site:edu MOOC robotics, I get about 7,000 final results, like this Introduction to Robotics Specialization from Penn Engineering. By using this syntax, you are able to usually bypass the clearinghouses and find just what exactly You are looking for on university websites, even classes the clearinghouses might not supply.

Pleased MOOCing!

[owlways-and-forever]

ExCuse me?! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!!?!?! Random questions 1 through 10 please

HIIIIIII... I have been stupid busy and stressed out. Life simultaneously sucks (works sucks and I’m still struggling to find a new job) and is great (my sister is have a baby in a few months!!). So just been like in and out very sporadically. But I’ve misssssssed you!!!!!!!!

1. Do you have any “yeah I’m good at it but I hate it” kind of skills?

Ummm... not that I can think of? I guess the closest thing is that like I have a weirdly good memory for details (like remembering someone’s birthday after they told me once like five years ago (and also what they were wearing when they told me)), and sometimes I feel like creepy stalker lady for it.

2. If you could make one type of food cease to exist, what would you banish?

Seafood, definitely seafood. God, even the smell of it makes me sick.

3. You’re allowed to know everything about one highly specific thing/topic. What would you choose?

Ohhhh boy. Ummmm... maybe women’s involvement in WWII? Or middle eastern history? Yeah, probably one of those two.

4. What’s a fictional character who you want to be like? In what way do you want to be like them?

Ginny Weasley, because she’s so confident and so go get ‘em, and I have never been like that. And just the kind of person she is, she’s accepted by everyone, not like ‘the popular girl’, but... Idk, I was Hermione, I was a nerdy, know it all, goody two shoes, and I wasn’t pretty, and I didn’t have a lot of friends, and I got made fun of a lot. And as much as I’ve changed in some ways and I’ve accepted some of those things about myself and my childhood, I still kind of wish that that’s not the person I was/am.

5. If you had to live in and not leave a city for the rest of your life, what city would you choose?

I mean, my gut instinct is Melbourne, because I just feel really drawn there, but it feels super bold to pick a city I’ve never been to. So... what qualifies as a city? Because if Raleigh/Durham counts, then fucking hands down that. I would love there forever if I could. But if not, then either Washington DC or London. I love both cities. I mean or NYC. I’m a total city girl, so...

6. Do you tend to say what you’re thinking? What would people think of you if you did the opposite? 

Hahaha most definitely not. People would probably think that I’m an asshole/heartless/amoral if I did. Not like, truly amoral, but like, just a little off center moral compass wise. But for the most part, I don’t act on that, so no one would ever know. But yeah, my thoughts can get a bit mean. It’s a lot of internal yelling, and the angrier/more annoyed I get, the more British my internal voice gets 🤷🏻‍♀️

7. Is there anything that you’ve done/experienced so much you hate it now? Easiest to come up with are like, food or music. 

I don’t think so? Nothing comes to mind at least.

8. Were you afraid of anything “silly”/irrational as a child that you’ve since outgrown?

Omg, yes!! The bottoms of swimming pools!! When I was little I thought that the little dappled sunlight patterns that were on the bottom of my grandpa’s pool were snapping turtles, and then when I started swimming competitively, I thought that a shark lived under the bottom of the deep end and if I didn’t swim fast enough it would burst out and eat me.

9. If you were to impart one moral lesson (think Aesop’s fables, Golden Rule, etc) on the world, what would it be? 

Oh god, I have no idea. I feel like I’m in a very cynical phase of life right now, so my “lessons” would not be very uplifting. Um, I guess like, try to see where other people are coming from. Things are rarely black and white, even in politics, and just because you interpret someone’s actions/choices one way, doesn’t mean they even remotely thought about it like that. Looking at things like this might not change your opinion, but it might at least make you hate people less. And the world (or at least the country) seems to have lost all ability to just disagree with someone and say that’s fine, it’s okay to have different opinions. Now, if someone disagrees with you, it’s so often taken as them being morally inferior, and I just think that’s so unhealthy and divisive.

10. If you were a DND character or a game character (or something like that) what would your highest stat be? What would you want your highest stat to be? What about the lowest, to both of those?

I... have no idea what any of this means? I’m not at all acquainted with DND, sorry

[justanotherdumpingground]

Chapter Reviews: May 28-June 1, 2019

Wishful Thinking Chapter 8:

Emus! I'm so glad they finally appear! And the entire scene with them is simply funny and worth it. Pete's an uttee nutcase, though an entertaining one as well. The premium scene with Emi is so adorable that I want to see the emus again in future chapters.

Glad I get to show Alec who's boss. This guy should just stop treating his employees like crap. If only I could have him replaced by someone better (not Ellen, though), that would be better.

I'm glad I finally get to hang out with Anna outside of work. Most of her appearances have her and the MC doing their jobs, so a casual chat about the emu incident feels refreshing. And Charlie's office getting trashed means something fishy is going on, probably someone opposed to him like Ellen, though I could be wrong. Since the summary for Chapter 10 sounds like Anna has some secrets to share, it seems that something is up with Charlie. He's really fishy.

A Courtesan of Rome Chapter 19:

Another exciting chapter that kept me hooked like the previous one. I was worried what Cingerix might do to the MC, so I picked the premium option to talk him out of serving Caesar. I think doing so results in the MC and Victus having a positive opinion on Cingerix, who helped his sister escape as a result.

It was fun to watch MC train under her dad and Euthymios in preparation for the gladiator match, and Cingerix developing feelings for Euthymios. If only I can get my hands on Flavius for killing Locusta and poisoning the MC, my life would've been complete. At least there was Delphinia to pray for her daughter's safety, though the MC should really be more defiant towards Flavius.

Anyway, with my anger gone from me, it was satisfying to watch my MC deliver a speech gearing public opinion against Caesar. Even more so with Sabina chanting with the crows.

Man, I can't wait for the final chapters. Especially now that the MC has told the news about Cingerix's change of heart to Delphinia.

Passport to Romance Chapter 12:

I'm just sick of Elliot and William bickering that I want to shove them inside a room to sort out their own messes. On to the regatta.

As expected, the folks there are so snotty that I can just roll my eyes. I get that Sumire has to develop as an artist, and taking criticism is an important part of it (hence me telling her that it's a learning experience), but the impression Bronwyn gave did nothing to endear me to her. Same goes to Carlisle, whom I dislike more for talking like money's the only thing that matters. Either way, who cares about these two? I didn't spend diamonds to steal Carlisle's champagne, though. :P

So Elliot just got his entire friends in trouble by placing a huge bet on a losing boat? Well, thanks a lot, loser! I swear, Elliot keeps blowing his chances to make meaningful contributions to the group that it pisses me off to no end. The only times he did that were to provide the group a place to stay in Lucerne and a private plane to fly them to Monaco. However, their stay in Lucerne doesn't make sense when they could directly go to Germany from France, and Elliot just waited until they missed the second flight to reveal that his family owns the airline of the missed flights. I seriously question his usefulness. As for Marisa, she better not lose all that money from betting Carlisle.

Nightbound Chapter 7:

Why are there options to be mean to Vera for no reason while ignoring the fact that she saved MC from a zombie? I get that her power is deadly, but she used it for good, and had no intention to harm others. Let's hope others will warm up to her.

Heh, no surprise Lady Smoke is Vera's mom. I stumbled upon a theory @a-whore-of-rome came up with, though much of the information involves Vera's first premium scene, followed by the mention of Lady Smoke as a mobster. And wow! Vera and her mom are complete opposites. I think Lady Smoke kinda has a point that they shouldn't live in fear because of their powers. After all, their power to kill others with their bare hands isn't necessarily a curse, but can come in handy depending on the user and their intents. I think Lady Smoke lets this power get in her head that she largely uses it for her benefit. A pity I didn't get her monster tear, but I certainly have plans to get it.

A premium scene to talk to Priya Lacroix. Pass, at least for now. I make no secret why I hate Priya, even though spending time with a love interest sounds like something I'd do once I know who my LI will be. For the time being, none of the love interests capture my attention.

Platinum Chapters 1-2:

First impressions-wise, the story seems OK. I don't like the clichéd bits (small town girl gets picked up by a star), but there's still hope for something else. Super glad that my MC gets to wear glasses as a regular accessory, rather than as part of another outfit. After all, I also wear glasses. And not to mention that the fanbase meter and that certain actions can cause the MC to lose fans looks like a good mechanism that prevents an immediate rise to fame cliché.

Interesting that both Avery and Raleigh can be either male or female, depending on player choices. For Avery, I picked the female one because she's so pretty. The male one's eyes look dopey, but that's just personal impression. Raleigh's harder because both choices look good, though I ended up picking the female one. It's probably not final, though.

Heh, I know Ryder from AME would make a cameo appearance in this story, and it seems that he's in his element. Also, Shane is a good friend to have so far. It's a blessing.

What is it with PB and its affinity with the rival girl cliché? I get that Jaylen isn't a saint, but this cliché discourages players to view characters with proper nuance and understand their roles in the story. After all, an important part of evaluating characters is to not let biases on certain "types" hinder one's thinking.

Anyway, let's see how this story developes.

Open Heart Chapter 16:

Honestly, I really don't like the fact that the MC acts friendly towards Landry even though the way he sabotaged the MC involved disrupting patient care. Because of this, I continued picking options that don't give him credit. Not once did he feel remorse over sabotaging the MC and putting patients at risk. It's like the situation with Sebastian in The Sophomore all over again. Forced to forgive someone who not only expressed no remorse for their wrongdoing but also forgetting that what he did are illegal, dangerous, and degrading. It doesn't help that his sabotage of the boiler is enough to erase sympathy for him.

That aside, I finally get to work with Ethan on Naveen, and it seems that Ethan is more open on his respect for MC. That seems reassuring, especially since I giggled at him saying that his middle name's Jonah after the MC saying Ethan "Freaking" Ramsey.

Seeing Aurora wish the MC luck was nice and calming. I'm proud of her taking the initiative of being nice towards the person who consoled her. It doesn't erase her flaws, such as her overconfidence when she downplayed a case as "not interesting", but I'm ready to see her slowly warming up to others and learn that all patients are interesting in their own way.

Man, I can't believe the next chapter is the finale. I won't be surprised the MC will win and keep their medical license, followed by a little celebration that involves premium options to spend time with a love interest.

Bloodbound Chapter 3:

Too bad that it costs diamonds to actually have fun in Vegas in order to blow off some steam in preparation for meeting with Landgon. Well, I'm not super tempted to buy them because my LI is neither Adrian nor Lily, though I like them both.

Anyway, on to meeting Langdon. I knew this guy's shady, but to see him keeping various supernatural beings alive sickens me. Even more so when he planned to keep MC and co. as part of his collection.

So the cameo comes from Cal. Well, not surprising, and I'm just scared at what might happen to him.

And Lily saying "to defeat the Huns" is what I need to cheer me up and lighten my mood. Despite being a vampire, she always stays true to herself and helps in any way she can. I have great confidence she'll be a great assistant to Jax.

Regarding the second flashback, I feel bad at Adrian killing the Confederate soldiers, though I wonder if that scene has changes depending on his appearance. And Gaius just reminds me how ruthless and creepy he is despite having another side to him in the previous chapter. He's shaping up to be a villain I like.

#choices stories you play #chapter reviews