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blainesebastian · 1 year

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clingy

words: 2,009 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (anon request) “what about austin with someone even touchier than him. maybe fans start saying she’s always clinging on him so she gets self conscious in public but austin notices right away” warnings: none notes: prompt just slightly different from request-- this can be read in tandem with ‘touch’ but isn’t necessary. requests are back open for now :) thanks to anyone who's left me one! appreciate it xx tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylespresleyhearted

Frowning at a few candid photos posted on Instagram, you scroll through the comments. You usually don't allow yourself to go down this rabbit hole because it shouldn't (and doesn't) matter what people think about you and Austin. No one is in this relationship except the two of you, you know that's the only thing that matters...and yet, these comments are burning into your eyes and imprinting on the back of your mind. It's mostly because it's spiteful, they're not fooling you on that, but that doesn't make them any easier to read.

There's a set of photos of you and Austin at a cafe last week that had a patio, enjoying the pleasant weather while you could. Austin is seated in one of the chairs, a pair of sunglasses and a ballcap on as he drinks his iced coffee. You're standing between his legs in the first photo and then you're sitting in his lap the second. Not that you need to justify this to anyone, but the patio was practically empty and you weren't disturbing anyone's afternoon. It's not like you were making out or somehow making this interaction obscene. You're typically seated on Austin's lap, it's so automatic at this point that he'll often find your hand and tug you to sit down on him—zero complaints.

Regardless that these strangers are not entitled to any background information, you know that might change a few people's opinions as they spit out nasty comments.

elvislover: you can tell he's super uncomfortable—like, yikes ericatownton: she literally does not give him a moment to breathe austinfan: #clingyaintcute

There are some bright spots,

austin345: can some of ya'll mind your own business? austin looks so happy in these? i don't get some of these comments shannonhyat: they're so cute! wish i could sit on austin like that, ngl eyeswithwonder: find yourself a man who looks at you like austin looks at Y/N—like she's hung the moon bro

but sometimes those aren't enough.

You've always been the touchy type—ever since your first boyfriend, but maybe it's gone beyond that, you've reached out and squeezed someone's arm while laughing, you're easy to hug to express emotion, and God, definitely super cuddly when you get a bit drunk. People who have never been your friends have called you a flirt or, just like the comments you're seeing, clingy...but you've never really found anything wrong with it. It's one of your love languages, how you best convey how you're feeling—and it's not like Austin isn't the same way.

He's big on touch, ever since you've known him, even when you two were just friends. Always with the hands on your hips, your waist, your lower back, fingers through your hair or playfully gripping your chin or absentminded centers of connection, knees against knees, shin along shin, shoulders brushing. He's never been shy about it...so why all of a sudden do you feel like you need to be?

You have no idea why you’re letting this bother you—Austin has never said anything that’s hinted that he’s uncomfortable, and you know he’d tell you. You really hate that this has gotten so underneath your skin.

You debate on whether you want to mention something to Austin or not, maybe talk about it or just…ask if there’s any merit in thinking you’re too clingy, if you should back off a little? But you never manage to get the words out of your mouth.

Setting your phone face down, you look up as Austin comes in from a night out with some cast members. He had asked originally asked if you wanted to join but you had dinner with your agent that you couldn’t miss (because it’d already been rescheduled twice).

“Hi,” He says warmly and walks over to where you’re seated on one of the stools at the island table. You hum as he leans down to press a kiss to your lips, slow and intimate, body heat rolling off his skin.

He smells like cologne and just a twinge of cigarette smoke, alcohol, intoxicating in a way it probably shouldn’t be. You find yourself closing your eyes as he leans a bit against you, not drunk but definitely tipsy, a lazy smile on his face as he pulls back. You smirk, reaching up to thread your fingers through his wild curls.

“Have a good time?”

“Would have been better with you,” He replies matter-of-factly, slipping his jacket off and setting it on one of the other stools. Austin clears his throat, getting a good look at you for a moment and pauses, “You alright?”

He knows you, lifts his hand to curl his pointer finger and brush it across the crinkling of your skin between your eyebrows. Far too well.

This could be your moment but…it feels foolish to mention it. Not only because Austin’s a bit inebriated and it wouldn’t be right to draw him into this conversation, but because the longer you sit with these thoughts, the more silly they feel. Right?

“Yeah,” You lie through your teeth, giving him a soft smile. “M’just tired, got a headache.”

He hums lightly, moving to press a long kiss to your forehead. “I can make you some tea.”

You let out a laugh which is mostly air leaving your nose, “You are swaying on your feet,” You cup his cheek, amused and fond, “Shouldn’t I be taking care of you?” You lean up to press a kiss to the bridge of his nose.

He crinkles it but smiles down at you, “What’d you have in mind?”

You playfully tap his cheek, “Bed—maybe a shower.”

Austin purses his lips, seemingly in thought for a moment before he nods—and then ever so quickly scoops you up into his arms. It’s haphazard and ridiculous and you can’t help but laugh as he carries you towards the bathroom,

“Hey! I didn’t mean with me.” And you can’t stop yourself from laughing, Austin teasingly grabbing at your ass. He barely turns the water to the shower on before he sets you down, drawing you into a kiss.

It’s been a relatively lazy day which you’ve seriously come to appreciate, it’s not often that you get many of them to spare. You’ve spent the morning with Austin browsing a large farmer’s market, deciding on fresh fruit and vegetables and handmade products that you probably don’t need but are indulging on. It’s fun, calming—it’s in moments like these where you can kinda forget how crazy your day to day lives can be. There’s comfort in that normalcy together.

You decide to go to the same bistro on the corner from your apartment for lunch, a place that you both have been before countless times because of the great food and rich coffee. Not to mention that you’re slightly obsessed with the beautiful patio outside that’s perfect for a little fresh air and spots of sun. It fills up fast but this is where it pays to be a bit of a celebrity—when Austin calls ahead, they make a table up for him, no matter how busy they are.

Can’t deny that you kinda love that perk as you pick at some fries on your plate next to a finished sandwich, full and content, legs under the table pressing into Austin’s as he talks about his upcoming project. You can’t help but smile as he talks with his hands, animated, excited for what’s to come because he deserves every single moment of it.

There are small moments of enjoyable silence, just sitting in one another's company, the hand that's not eating fries sitting loosely on the table. Austin's hand finds yours automatically, something so automatic that it makes your stomach do a complete flip. Your eyes glance down to the rings on his slender fingers, running along yours, squeezing every so often. A small smile tugs the corners of your mouth and you pick up your iced coffee to take a sip.

"Today was pretty great," You comment after the breeze picks up and flutters your hair. You run your fingers through it, adjusting sunglasses on your face.

"It was," Austin agrees, running his thumb along your knuckles, "You regret that we don't always have time for it?"

You give him a small smile, shaking your head, "No, course not. Just makes it that much more special when we do."

Austin hums, lifting your hand to press a kiss to the inside of your wrist. He then tugs, encouraging you to stand, and you already know where this is going before it happens. This is something you do all the time—you share food or coffee together and find yourself on Austin's lap. Even on this crowded patio, you're tucked into one of the end corners near the lines of bushes for a bit of privacy, your stomach clenches with nerves in a way it's never done before. You can't help but think about all those stupid comments, burning letters into the back of your vision.

You completely tense up, freeze in spot.

Austin notices automatically, of course, his eyebrows drawing together in soft confusion as he looks up at you, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," You reply, too quickly, shaking your head--he can read right through you, Austin's always been good at that.

He lets out a soft sigh out of his nose, holding your gaze for a long moment, blue eyes boring into yours. And yet, you can't seem to move. Curling your hair around your ear, you glance at the other tables, expecting to see eyes on you, maybe people taking candid photos to appear online later...and yet there's nothing. Of course there's nothing.

"You're shaking," He replies gently, standing now from his chair. He runs both of his hands down your arms, squeezing, “What’s goin’ on?”

You almost want to brush it aside but Austin’s locked in now, he’s not going to let you. So you briefly roll your eyes towards the sky, a shaky laugh following, “You’re gonna think it’s ridiculous.”

“I doubt it.” He encourages.

Chewing on your lower lip, you give a soft nod, “Uhm—do you…do you think I’m clingy? Like, as a girlfriend?”

His eyebrows draw together in confusion, unsure of how you’re topic jumping to this and it looks like he might want to smirk but doesn’t because he can tell you’re upset. “I think…both of us enjoy attention through touch, there’s nothin’ wrong with that though. Doesn’t make you clingy.”

He keeps your gazes connected, making sure you hear him, that the words register and you find yourself nodding once. The ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth and Austin cups your cheek, shifting you into a kiss that lasts a good handful of moments. You know he’s doing it on purpose too, keeping you close, drawing it out.

When he pulls back, he playfully nips at your lower lip, making your smile much more genuine, “And don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.”

You hum in acknowledgement because Austin knows, of course he knows where you were coming from. You’re not sure whether that means he’s been on social media too or can just sense it—you’ve talked about pap photos before, candids posted by fans. It’s never really bothered you until now. It means a lot that he sees you, without having to explain or justify how you feel. You definitely love him for that.

“Now,” Austin says, sitting back down in his chair, “C’mere.” He motions towards himself with his fingers.

You can’t help but laugh warmly, taking Austin’s hand and allowing him to tug you over to him. Sitting down on his lap, perched on his one leg like it’s the simplest thing in the world, you lean your shoulder against his chest. He smiles up at you, hooking a finger underneath your chin to draw you into a kiss. It’s slow and sweet, no cares in the world—especially for anyone who might be looking.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler fic #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things

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ohblackdiamond · 10 days

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bite the hand that bleeds (ace/paul, pg-13)

Summary: Now all that doesn’t matter. KISS is over. The makeup sold. Paul won’t ever tour again. The big payout Ace had hoped for evaporated. All that Ace could possibly want, could possibly hope for, are the last scraps of Paul’s generosity. Paul’s mouth twitches as he thinks about it, and then he reaches for his phone again.

Paul gets an unexpected art collector at a gallery show, and ends up entertaining his old bandmate for tea.

Notes: Part of a fic swap with @elrohare (prompt: afternoon tea). Please check out her lovely Whenever You're Ready (I'm Here) for a beautiful take on the same setting.

“Come now, gentlemen Your love is all I crave You'll still be in the circus When I'm laughing, laughing in my grave” -“Memo from Turner,” Mick Jagger

Forty meet and greets, that’s the evening’s agenda, with room for maybe five or six impulse buyers at the tail end. Christian, Wentworth’s president, sends him a hard copy the morning of, with notes, though he usually only glances over it. He only really keeps an eye out for the special requests, so he can remember they’re coming up– maybe someone with cancer, or a whole family wanting a picture with him, or a video message to a kid barely out of basic training and stationed overseas– but the bulk, the very bulk of the meet and greets are simple, easy to handle. A couple signatures, a couple pictures, and a smile, and they’re mostly on their way. It takes so little to make them happy, so little. The kids never really changed– they just went from piggybanks to 401ks.

Forty meet and greets. He likes doing these much better than the ones for KISS. He likes not sharing attention with Gene. Most especially, even now, he likes the girls, not for anything carnal, but just that small, secret pleasure of still being wanted at the tender age of seventy-two.

He scans through the list, though he never remembers the names, just some of the faces. The names give their age away anyway, Generation X’s finest crop of Lisas and Erics and– hm, a Paul, too. A Paul Daniel.

It’s just coincidence. He sets his agenda down on his hotel bedside table and tries to think no more about it. He’s got four hours to kill before he needs to get down there, anyway. Maybe he’ll order something on his phone. He taps the screen, checking his messages first. One from Erin he’ll answer later. One from Gene from about a week ago he still has no intention of answering. The phone vibrates in his hand as he’s just about to set it aside– a call, not a text. Christian.

“Hello?”

“I hate to bother you, Paul, but it’s about the event,” Christian says. He sounds a little scattered. Paul resists the urge to snap back at him– of course it’s about the event– letting him go on. Sometimes it’s hard to summon up the energy to respond much. Sometimes, even four months out from his last show, it still hurts to talk. “One of the people on the guest list.”

“If you’re thinking there’ll be some trouble, then you can handle it.”

“It’s not the usual trouble.” After ten or more years of this, Christian ought to know the usual trouble well enough by now. The stalker types, the seriously unhinged ones that believe that buying a painting entitles them to his true friendship, or more. The expectant ones, the oversharing, desperate ones, the nuts that have to be escorted out. Usually the high price of admission keeps them away, and usually, Paul doesn’t get told they even tried to make an appearance. He has people for that. He should have people for that. “All I can say is that I’m sorry. We had one of our new consultants– she just started two weeks ago, and she– well, you know how it is, she’s only twenty-four, she had no idea–”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you had a buyer you may not want.”

“Please don’t tell me Eddie Trunk got his fat ass over to D.C.”

Christian actually manages a snort, but the next words make the breath catch in Paul’s throat.

“No. It’s Ace Frehley.”

–

Paul tells Christian he’ll call him back when he ought to tell him to issue Ace a refund.

He hasn’t seen Ace in six years now. Oh, he’s seen Ace– in a parade of humiliating Tiktoks and Youtube shorts, slurring interviews, horrific concerts– but he hasn’t seen Ace. He’s heard from Ace– the occasional, completely unanswered text– but the last time he listened to him on the phone was months back. Ace’s Hail Mary, his final, desperate attempt to get let onstage for MSG. Ace had fumbled it. Ace fumbled everything.

Now all that doesn’t matter. KISS is over. The makeup sold. Paul won’t ever tour again. The big payout Ace had hoped for evaporated. All that Ace could possibly want, could possibly hope for, are the last scraps of Paul’s generosity. Paul’s mouth twitches as he thinks about it, and then he reaches for his phone again.

“Have you contacted him? When did this happen?”

“Not since the purchase. That was two days ago.”

“And no one checked until now? You had Ace Frehley buy a painting and nobody noticed for two days?”

“It was on his girlfriend’s credit card.”

“That’s fucking pathetic.” Cancel it. Refund it. That’s what he should be saying. “He does that shit to people. Uses them for whatever favors he can. Uses them all up.”

“What do you want us to do?”

Paul exhales.

If it was refunded, Ace would go to the press. Ace would tell every damn news website in the world that Paul Stanley wouldn’t sell him a painting. He’d get all sorts of publicity. The avatars had gotten bad press, not that Paul gave much of a shit anymore, but if Ace capped it all off, had someone else spin it just right… fuck. It could go so well for him. Ace could play it off like a spat-upon peace offering, and he, Paul, would come off like a bitter asshole, denying him not just the band, but five minutes of his time. He couldn’t win. He wouldn’t be able to win.

“Call him up. Tell him he’s not coming to the gallery.”

“All right.”

“But tell him he can meet me in an hour in Entyse.” Paul doesn’t even question if they’ll get him on the line. Or if Ace’ll show. “There won’t be any trouble.”

“Okay. Paul, again, all I can do is apologize–”

“What for? I was headed there anyway.”

He hangs up. His phone’s buzzing within ten minutes, texts, this time, and then a call, but he doesn’t so much as glance at the screen. He knows who they’re from.

–

Paul walks into Entyse without a reservation and gets seated immediately. It’s not much of a power play; there’s not been any satisfaction on his part in things like that for, oh, forty-five years now. Especially not when Entyse is just the Ritz Carlton’s restaurant, and he only had to head downstairs from his suite.

They offer him the menus, but all he takes is a Coke and a water. He’d half-expected Ace to get there before him, half-wanted to see him wandering in, all stupid bravado, looking around for the front of house, aware that he’d cheated himself out of every rockstar perk Paul’s going to have the rest of his life. But five minutes, then ten minutes pass. Paul’s just about to get up– he can feel a couple eyes on him at this point, wondering, probably, why he’s alone, with a solid half of them not knowing who he is, probably more– and then he sees Ace out of the corner of his eye, getting led to his table like a pensioner to his nursing home bed.

That’s not fair. It’s not, unfortunately, even true. Ace is walking about as well as he ever did, which isn’t well at all, struggling against his own instinct to pigeon-toe. He looks fine. He’s lost some weight over the last couple years. He’s in jeans, a black leather jacket, and a cheap Hello Kitty button-down. And sunglasses, which he yanks off as soon as he sits down, pushing them aside on the table.

“Hey, Paul,” he says.

“Hey.”

It’s not the start he wants. The waiter’s given Ace the drink menu– Ace flips it over immediately and hands it back– and goes into the lunch options, but Ace interrupts him.

“How about tea?”

“The afternoon tea, sir?”

Ace points over to the table across from theirs, where six or seven teenage girls in puffy pastel atrocities are giggling over some tiered tea trays.

“Yeah, what they’ve got.”

The waiter seems completely unruffled. Paul narrows his eyes, looking at Ace– specifically, he’s looking for Ace’s phone– but if he’s got it on him, it must be in his pocket. The waiter pulls out the afternoon tea menus.

“We have two options for tea. The afternoon tea, and the royal tea. Your selections of sandwiches and sweets are completely customizable. The royal tea does include a glass of rose wine and–”

“Paulie, he’s trying to upsell you,” Ace says with a snort.

“I don’t remember saying I would pay.”

“You invited me. And I did buy your painting. That’s how it works, right?” Ace turns to the waiter after a quick glance at the menu. “Gimme the afternoon tea. Uh. Darjeeling. Don’t gimme any of the cream puffs or mousse, all right? Just, uh, substitute in more of the scones.”

“And you, sir?”

Paul had been about to get a salad just to spite him, just to show how little time he wants to spend entertaining him here. Afternoon tea– God, it’s comical. Ridiculous. His youngest had that at her birthday party about three years ago. What the hell is Ace doing? What’s he trying to accomplish?

He doesn’t know.

“I’ll take the upsell. And jasmine tea. No substitutes on any of the stuff on the tray.”

The waiter nods, heading off at that brisk pace. Ace pushes his hair back behind his ear, and smiles.

“You got a good crowd coming?”

“Yeah. It’s a good crowd.”

“’S good. I used to sell my art, too.” Ace is so matter-of-fact that Paul can almost feel his own blood pressure start to rise. He can’t ever outright call out arch meanings with Ace, the way he can with Gene, for all he’s sure they’re there. Ace doesn’t have those tells that Gene does. “It was all on the computer. I used to really like to tinker with it. Now all you gotta do is click and put a filter on it.”

“Not very tactile.”

“Nah. I got settings on my– on my webcam now, for when I do interviews. Barely even gotta put on any makeup with how well that filters out all the imperfections.” Ace peers at him. “I could show you sometime. I guess now that KISS is done you–”

“Cut the crap, Ace, and tell me what you want.”

“Nothing.”

“Cut the crap.”

“What’d you get the upsell for, Paul? Since when do you gotta have a drink to deal with me?”

Paul doesn’t answer, just grabs his Coke and takes a long swig. He used to be able to do Gene this way. Silent treatment him for hours and hours. This last tour– the last tour– it had gotten unbearable for both of them. Each show another nail in the coffin, a relief as much as it was an agony. Another shaving down of whatever was left of their friendship.

He hadn’t even seen Gene since the last show. It hadn’t even occurred to him until just now.

Ace takes a couple sips of his water. He’s not looking at Paul. His gaze is towards those teenage girls.

“My fiancee’s got a girl about that age,” he says quietly. “She’s got a friend that dresses kinda like that, real frilly. She brought her over to the house once. Call themselves Lolitas or something. I don’t get it.”

“It’s Japanese.” Two words more than he’d meant to give him.

“Oh.” Ace nods, glancing briefly at his own shirt. “I’d like to get back over there someday. I dunno that I will.”

Probably not. Ace can’t afford to tour outside of the States. Paul tries to swallow his next comment, but he doesn’t manage.

“I’m not touring again, Ace.”

“I know. I’m not asking you to.”

“I’m not helping you tour.”

“I’m not asking for that, either.”

“Then what are you–”

The waiter reemerges, first with their teas and then, immediately afterward, with the trays, laden with tiny sandwiches and sweets. Ace’s grin only widens, and he immediately snatches the smoked salmon sandwich from his tea tray and sticks the entire thing in his mouth. One bite.

“Fuck, that was good. Are you still on the vegetarian bit? Can I have yours?”

“No. No, I’m not.” Paul takes his own salmon sandwich from his tray just to spite him, eating it more slowly. But three bites and it’s just as gone as Ace’s. Pretty good. It occurs to him, briefly, that Ace probably thinks Olive Garden is fine dining at this point in his life. It would be sad if he hadn’t done it to himself.

Ace moves onto the quiche. This one, he cuts up into raggedy thirds, stabbing each with his fork.

“Caramelized onions on top. Y’know, my manager, he’s something of a chef, but–”

“Tell me what you want, Ace.”

Ace pulls out his phone. Paul stiffens before he realizes Ace is just checking his texts.

“You never answered me. I didn’t think you would.” He lifts his eyes from the phone, setting it down on the table, face up. Ace’s got the font set as large as he can get it. Same as him. “What I want is company, Paulie. I want your company so damn bad I’ll pay you for it.”

“Like hell. You want an in.” The salmon feels like it’s about to come back up in his throat. “You want me to endorse you.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“You want a photo with me. Maybe a soundbyte for Youtube.” Paul forces himself to exhale. “Your album barely sold. KISS is gone and you’re still out there in the clubs. So you want a little more buzz. Maybe I’d help you get ten more butts in the seats at those fucking dive bars you play–”

“I’m not at fucking dive bars.”

“When was the last time you sold out an arena? I’ll wait. No. I know.”

Ace’s mouth is pinched, face just a little flushed. He eats the pieces of his quiche in rapid succession, then starts savagely on the remaining sandwiches, just grabbing them off the tray and stuffing them in his mouth. Then he starts on the tea, taking a quick swallow without the cream and sugars Paul remembers him always adding in.

“Same as the last time you didn’t sound like shit.” He grabs the tongs, dropping in three sugars, then the cream, stirring them, eyes full on Paul’s face, daring him to get up, daring him to leave. “Gene told me what happened to you, back when we toured Australia together. I know all about that.”

“You don’t know shit.”

“You ruined yourself and then you blamed him with it. And he believes it, too. That’s the funny thing.” A swallow. “He was about in tears when he told me. Gene’s a snake, but he’s better than either of us. All he hasn’t sold off yet is his conscience.”

The tea trays never looked so comical. Silver tiers, pastel sweets, bright-colored sandwiches. He’s focusing on them because there’s nothing else to focus on. Only that Ace wants him to go. Ace wants him to go so that he can feel like he’s won. But Ace hasn’t won anything. His whole life he’s given up everything he ever had like a goddamn fool, then begged the whole world for their scraps. He can’t get front row. He can’t get the Ritz Carlton. He’s lucky he got fifteen minutes of Paul’s time.

“Gene’s a liar.”

“Not about that.” Another swallow of tea. Paul expects another sharp accusation, but Ace just swaps tactics like credit cards from a billfold. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Just like it doesn’t matter what I play like when I go out there. You… you and Gene took me to see James Brown, for my birthday that time. I remember seeing that old man out there, seeing them put all the capes on him, I thought, they should put him to bed, don’t put him out there, he’s a-a fucking dinosaur, now– but they did. ’Cause he didn’t know what else to do with himself. All he could do was sing all the old songs. Put on the capes. Be a joke.”

“You’re the only joke here.”

“We both are.” Ace keeps eating. Almost all the sandwiches are gone from his tray. He’s onto the scones. “I don’t want an in, Paul. I just want someone I can talk to.”

“Talk to Gene.”

“I can’t.”

“Talk to Peter.”

“He won’t.”

“Why me?”

Ace finishes off the scone. There’s a little butter smeared across his lip.

“You know why.”

It’s the music business. The music business. I don’t owe you friendship. I don’t owe you anything. Doc’s adage, the one he’s scrawled on one of his paintings, there in the gallery, burns somewhere in his heart: quality time remaining. Like he’s a bomb about to go off. Like someone’s subtracting his last breaths down. Quality time remaining and in just a couple hours, he’ll be spending that time doing those forty meet and greets for fans that want a moment and a picture and a couple autographs. Fans that only know him from the magazines and interviews and two hours at a time in a couple hundred concerts, but think of him like a brother, like a lover, like a demigod. Ace doesn’t know him, he wants to insist, but that’s a lie. Ace knew him when he was no one.

Ace knew him when the Hotel Diplomat was the best they could manage. When they hauled their gear in a milk truck. When the KISS t-shirts were iron-ons they cut out themselves. When Bill was signing them onto Casablanca. When every show was a rush of adrenaline, instead of a slog. When it didn’t hurt, when he could bounce back from anything, just anything–

(when)

Long skinny legs spread across a cheap yellow duvet. A girl’s head between them. The room assignments had swapped; Peter was rooming with his wife, and Ace, Ace was lying there, getting head from that girl as Paul stepped out from the shower.

(you want in on this, paul? and his finger crooked, beckoning lazily)

(and he did. and he did. that was the first sidle into something new, something filthy. he had taken the girl from behind while she sucked off ace, but it was only after she left that it really mattered. it was only after that that they’d fooled around together, feigning drunk after only three beers apiece.)

(you want in on this, paul?)

Those same legs in faded jeans, close to fifteen years later. No girl this time but the hotel might as well have been the same. Ace’s fortunes had declined even worse than KISS.’ And yet he’d had enough reason to spend the night with him, after the Limelight show, without a girl there for that edge of rockstar excess.

Another ten years. Another scattered handful of moments. Ace high on pills. Paul edging on the verge of divorce. The disgust had started to fester long before then, disgust and awareness. Ace was throwing it all away again, casual and careless. Ace wasn’t what he wanted, in or out of bed, and he never had been. He was still just some crude kid from the Bronx that played guitar better than him, that crashed cars, that drank himself to stupors, only then he was nearly fifty instead of twenty-five.

He couldn’t change. Just kept making the same mistakes. Just kept playing the same old chords, the same chords anyone could play. He’d proved that afterwards, hadn’t he? He’d proved that. The fans had taken Tommy for twenty years. Ace had never been special at all.

Paul tries to think that. Tries to assure himself of that. But looking Ace in the face stops him cold. There’s defeat there, sure. But there’s a spark in those dark, hooded eyes, too. There’s a spark that no stupid tea outing and no amount of barbs from him could ever manage to completely extinguish.

It’s a spark he remembers, and for the barest sliver of time, it’s just enough to almost make him look young.

“Maybe I’m better off trying them. Gene’s not so sore at me anymore.” Ace lifts a macaron from his tray. “He’s still the one paying his old band.”

“I know.”

“Peter’ll let it all go if I visit him.”

“He would.”

“It’s just you I wanted, that’s all.” Ace gets up, having to lean against the table in order to stand. He reaches for his Gucci purse, hooking it to his shoulder. “It’s always been you.”

“Ace–”

“Don’t let them get too weird with you at the event. Pretend you can’t hear ’em.” Ace’s words are only a little dry as he crunches the macaron, then reaches for the remaining scones, wrapping them in a napkin. Paul’s stomach starts to twist. All the fight seems out of him, all the acidity, all the hope. In tearing Paul up, he tore himself up, too. Mutually-assured destruction. “Your girl that sold me the painting, she said–”

“Which one did you buy?”

He says it suddenly, barely realizing it’s out of his mouth until Ace answers.

“What?”

“Which one?”

“The, uh, one of the abstracts.”

“Which one?”

“The blue and purple. Anyway, she said–”

“Sit down.”

“Paul–”

“Finish off the food. I will, too.”

“I’m not–”

(i want)

“You’re coming with me.”

“Paul, c’mon, I know you don’t wanna, not after–”

“I do.”

A couple of old men drinking tea in the Ritz Carlton. A couple of young men under the covers of a Motel Six. Age shattering vocals, crippling fingers. Bitterness seeping in from every raw deal and every undercut and every canceled show, a lifetime of old pains without a salve. And yet, as Ace sits back down, easing into his chair, reaching for the strawberry on top of the tea tray, Paul finds himself almost ready to let it all go.

#kiss the band #kiss fanfiction #paul stanley #ace frehley #ace frehley x paul stanley #stehley

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lokisasylum · 10 months

Text

Lets talk about something controversial--

Lets talk about how BALLS-DEEP taekookers have embedded themselves inside the fandom to the point of Armys DEFENDING THEM over protecting the ones constantly being the target of this disgusting breed.

We (the OG fans who were there since the beginning and noticed the moment it started) warned ya'll about this; for MONTHS, for YEARS. But ya'll didn't listen. Just let it happen.

It started with Big “OT7″ accounts ignoring the issue and deeming it “just shipping wars”, “focus on BTS only”, to the fandom collectively turning a blind eye the bigger the hate got with every little "ignore and block", every "you need to curate your TL better so you don't constantly see that--"

We warned ya'll and you called us Crazy, you called us Delusional, you called us Entitled, you called us Problematic Old Hags. And now I fear we may never get rid of taekookers AT ALL.

EXHIBIT A:

Lets start with something that happened a few days ago. It started with a TKer using a set-up account to drag The Weekend for that weirdo netflix series. Which for some reason it called the attention of Abel (the lead vocal)'s attention to the point of quoting it, which in turn gave the tweet MORE attention/views.

As soon as the tweet started getting the desired amount of clout, the TKer changed the entire layout from taekook to Jimin to make it seem like "oh, pjms again starting shit because they're bored" (when in reality Jimin stans were hyper focused on streaming & buying 'Like Crazy' since the song was about to break the record for longest days charting and also the 119 #1s on iTunes), but what everyone ignored completely was the fact that despite switching the layout the person was actively dragging & defaming Jimin on that same acc & liking tweets from Jimin antis. But NOBODY CARED ABOUT THAT, because armys only saw "a jimin stan being problematic". And it took ONE Jennie solo stan calling out armys hypocrisy for the way they've always given trashcookers a free-pass in their fandom instead of defending Jimin, when both he and Jennie get the most hate from them on all platforms.

But AGAIN, what did the fandom do? Instead of actively reporting and trying to get the TKer suspended, they switched to attacking that Jennie solo stan AND slvtshaming Jennie as well. As for the person who started the whole thing? Deactivated and is probably STILL around with a different account spreading more hate and ways to get away with it.

EXHIBIT B: The #s war from yesterday.

Again, it was a TKer who started trending those disgusting tags over a harmless joke about spotify debut numbers. The hashtags were ALL initially AGAINST JIMIN ONLY, and each one more vile than the last and the bastards even celebrated that they got them to trend so quickly and were even putting money into keeping them up longer.

(I spent an unhealthy amount of hours out of my life yesterday reporting & blocking people from BOTH ends, but it was just neverending! And for some reason twitter wasn’t showing all of the reports I made which frustrated me even more).

But armys only cared about the issue when Jimin stans actually started fighting back, using the SAME #s against TKers. NOT BECAUSE JIMIN HAD BEEN DEHUMANIZED/DEFAMED FIRST, BUT BECAUSE NOW IT INVOLVED 2 MORE MEMBERS (otherwise they would have ignored it). So instead of helping to clear the searches and reporting EVERYONE who was using the #s, they ONLY reported/suspended Jimin stans and instead trended “BTS IS 7″ initially, while the TKer who started this whole thing is STILL around, active on another acc after deactivating.

This gave TKers the upper-hand to once again SWITCH THE SITUATION IN THEIR FAVOR, by gaslighting armys/ot7s into thinking and trending: “solosOUT” “ALL SOLOS ARE ANTIS” “WE LOVE YOU TAEKOOK” “WE LOVE YOU [X, Y, Z member]”

(I even saw BTS members who weren’t involved in the issue being included in the tags as well to divert attention further from the fact that it was taekook shippers who started this shit).

And if you had looked closely at the first tweets using these tags, you would have noticed TONS of taekookers with the cult symbol on their username at the same time putting ALL of the blame on Jimin stans and accusing armys of ONLY caring about Jimin but never defending Taekook.

Which now has officially enabled the mentality inside the fandom that calling out Taekook Shippers = shading/hating Taehyung & Jungkook as individuals.

But its OKAY to call out Jikookers/Kookminers (cause they’re now “Tae antis” by association) & anyone who defends Jimin, because its OKAY for Jimin to get hate/shade as long as Taekook are protected. LOL what a fucking joke of a fandom (Alexa, play “Face-Off” )

EXHIBIT C: VMinKook at SG’s concert today

The 3 maknaes were literally standing/sitting together, playing. vibing to the concert (there’s literal clips of them talking, interacting and playing with the army bombs). But what topics made noise first?

“Taekook together at the concert” “Taekook concert date” “Taekook ignored Jimin, as they should” “Jimin left first/alone in his own car because he’s bitter.”

I even saw one where tkers were UPSET because “Jimin didnt pay attention” whenever tk interacted. Like sis makeup your mind, are you happy he’s no longer interacting like before or are you desperate for his validation that will never come???

Jimin is unbothered, happy and busy and probably had some schedule to attend after the concert, but these deranged mfers will always see what they want and armys will always give them a free-pass instead of addressing the pink elephants on parade in the room.

And if this is the fandom we have to go back to when and IF BTS ever return as 7 after enlistment (given that they don’t actually disband after that not so subtle hint suga made at the end of the concert)? Then I’m about ready to drop BTS as a whole the moment Jimin goes in for his service. ‘Cause this ain’t it.

#BTS #jimin #park jimin #bangtan #armys #bts armys #jimin antis #bts antis #jikook #kookmin #taekook #OT7 is a MYTH #this fandom will be the death of BTS #I hope it implodes #vminkook #vkookmin #taeminkook

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felassanis · 1 year

Text

- Unwinding The Ties

Freyr x Original Female Character

Warnings: Smut +18 ONLY

Vali. A name once, her name. But now it was more of a command. Uttered to instruct, to demand. She hated hearing her name from the lips of her supposed family. The ones who looked at her with scorn, with confusion. Odin with his expectant stare, always watching her like an owner waiting for the dog to perform a trick. She loathed the way her name sounded from him.

But not with Freyr. She longed to hear her name spill from his lips. Heavy on his breath, a curse and a prayer. Her name has never sounded as sweet. Hands slide through her hair pulling her away from his lips before he can suffocate.

It was just another way to rebel against her father at first, her and Freyr. It started with long walks through Vanaheim. Carrying herself through the forests with the same self-importance and entitlement as her father. Not only to get away from the dull everyday of Asgard, but to prove to herself that not only could she do anything she liked, but that she had the balls to.

And to prove that the All-Mighty Odin couldn’t control her movements, and the wise god was none the wiser to her ventures.

And when she met the Vanir prince, who had initially been hostile to her, she realised she could spite the All-Father even more. Freyr and her saw in each other the same pain that only victims of similar experiences can. Both of them were missing something Odin had torn from them. Both wearing the scars of his cruelty. His burn marks, and her adult form. This silent understanding made them fast friends.

And so she slipped them intel on Aesir movements to help him with the war. And by doing so advancing her silent rebellion against the All-Father.

And sleeping with Freyr? The All-father’s daughter with the prince of the Vanir? It brought a smile to her face.

Soon, it became more than a simple beneficial relationship. Soon Freyr saw an Aesir working against her people, and respected her. He saw a daughter immune to her father’s infamous manipulations and admired her.

When she would slip through the realms to his humble camp, he’d insist she stay for food and drink. Welcome her presence at the campfire and encourage her to sing and dance with the rest of his people. She was more than a tool, and that had been a first.

Vali had never been a child for more than a day thanks to her father. And so never developed that fantastical idea of romance that forms from hearing stories and that sticks with you until you mature. Building up expectations and hopes that will soon be crumbled by the reality of men. She had been stuffed with the experiences and intellect of an old, wizened man. And so she saw people as pawns. As means to an end.

Perhaps that was the only reason she was not so quick to bend to the whims of her father unlike her brothers. In many ways, Vali was Odin. And only Odin knew what a fraud Odin was.

Freyr changed that. He gave the experience she had always lacked yet unknowingly craved. Human connection.

“Vali,” He whispers into her skin. His nose nudges at her chin to look up, to which he immediately trails a journey of kisses along her jawline. Suckling on the skin. “Don’t go yet,”

“Hmm,” She notes the smile pressing into her skin as her hum vibrates in her throat and against him.

“I mean it,” A light nibble on her neck. She knows his game by now, luring her further into him by doing everything she likes. To stall her return to Asgard.

“And if Odin realises I’m gone? How do I explain my absence?”

Freyr’s arms snake round her waist, letting her know he really has no intention of letting her slip away. “You’re wiley enough to come up with a story,”

At this point, the warmth travelling through her has lulled her into complete laziness. She wants nothing more than to push Freyr onto the floor, knowing that if she left for Asgard now she would be unbearably cold.

“I was taken hostage by an impossibly charming Vanir,” She starts. “He had me trapped by force. I could not hope to get away,” Her arms shimmy to his elbows, pulling them so his arms tighten around her. “Then…he interrogated me relentlessly for an hour…”

“Not all night?” He pulls away from her neck briefly to shoot her a knowing smirk. A smirk which sends a shock of excitement through her.

“My, my. Freyr of the Vanir is not easy on his prisoners, is he?”

Freyr laughs, a sound she wishes she could bottle and take home. “That’s my girl. See? How could Odin see through that?”

Upon hearing her father’s name again, a wave of frustration spurs her next movements. She struggles out of Freyr’s iron grip. And the look of worry on his features is quickly broken when Vali pushes on his chest. Sending him on his back and huffing on impact, with her hurriedly straddling him.

“Enough about Odin. I come here to get away from him…”

Freyr puts a hand over his heart. Feigning offence. “Not for any other reason?”

“Well…” Vali leans over him, her lips but a hair’s width from his own. “There might be other reasons. But suddenly, my memory is so…hazy?”

Fingers snake behind her neck, nails lightly digging into the nape pulling her to close the gap between them.

“Let’s jog your memory then, sweetheart,”

They’re lucky Freyr’s portion of camp is removed from the rest. Hugging the edges as Freyr liked to be the first line of defence should they be attacked.

That was her Freyr, always thinking of others. That extended to the bed covers as well. He was no selfish lover, always tending to her needs before even letting her think about touching him down there.

Her robes come off quickly, leaving her chest bare with only slithers of her skin covered by the myriad of chains and rope that dangle from her neck. Freyr’s hands languish over her stomach, over her ribs, trailing an agonisingly slow trail until they come to where she desires them. Fingers rubbing over her budding nipples as she sighs into his mouth. Her necklaces clinking against his adventurous hands as she licks at his bottom lip telling him what a good job he is doing already as her fingers dig into the dirt beside his head.

Before Freyr opened her eyes to it, sex had never been a point of fascination before. She knew what it was of course. Yet any enthusiasm was eclipsed by her father’s attitude. Rotten by the idea it merely served as reproduction, as a means to continue his line.

All of his attitudes were ingrained into her. Attitudes Freyr was slowly unwinding…

Freyr loved her with the devotion of a worshipper. Gazing upon her like art, touching her like she was woven of the finest silk, lapping at her like wine to be savoured and devoured…Her one and only worshipper. The only one she would ever need.

“Freyr,” Vali whines as too much attention was on her breasts and not enough on the pooling heat that was between her legs. She pulls away and Freyr gazes upon the jewellery adorned along her chest in amazement.

“Yes?” He says breathless. Still not meeting her gaze as his hands continue to fondle.

“Don’t act coy now…” Her cheeks flush over her embarrassing whine. Her hand clasping over the one that has her breast in his palm. He was going to be mean, wasn’t he? Satisfied that he had been successful at convincing her to stay. Well, she could not have that.

“I’m no mind reader, Vali,” He leans forward. Kissing the valley between her tits. “Tell me what you want,”

I'm glad you are not. She thinks briefly, before shaking those thoughts out of her mind as Freyr bites her other breast. Abusing it with tongue and teeth.

“What I want?” She gives an experimental roll of her hips. Feeling his hardening member just as she expected. It made her chuckle that the God of fertility would become hard so quickly. Fitting she supposed. “Silly boy, you know what I want,”

He groans into her, biting harder out of impulse which rips a whine from her throat and a hand snapping to his head.

“What’s the saying? All good things come to those who wait?” He murmurs.

“I have one for you too, since when have you known a God of Revenge to be patient?”

Her hands clutch his long chestnut locks and pull him forcefully away from her chest. Her skin throbs from pain that would burn blue come morning, yet she loves the way her flesh burns from the scrape of his teeth and the suction of his lips. A delicious kind of pain.

Vali looks down at him, her eyes hooded with the same intensity she reserves for battles she knows she’ll win. At first, he simply remarks on his handy work with a smug grin. Staring at her chest like an artist reviewing his work. Until he finally looks up, caught under the gaze, his smile shifts from pride to excitement.

“Is that what you want?” He tilts his head. “Revenge for making you feel this way? This good?”

She rolls her hips again hard, feeling his cock twitch underneath her, answering his question.

Perhaps the rest of Freyr’s company could hear her shouts as Freyr’s lips land on her sex as soon as they rid themselves of their clothing. How she croons loudly as his tongue finally entered her after tackling the many layers to his attire. But she doesn't care if all the nine realms heard her. Sex was blissful, it was raw and intense and damn it if she was going to restrict her journey of it by being silent.

Freyr seems to agree. Lapping at her sex more intensely as if her cries were not loud enough. As if his efforts were not appreciated enough. His hand stroked her inner thigh tenderly, while another pressed against her stomach. Keeping her from writhing away from his attentive mouth.

“Fuck!” She thrusts against his mouth as her eyes squeezed shut. Solely focusing on the alien yet pleasurable feeling of Freyr’s tongue entering her over and over and over again.

“That’s it, come on…” He encourages softly. Turning his attention to her clit. Sucking diligently while wrestling her bucking hips with the ease of a man merely enjoying a meal.

When she opens her eyes to peer down out of curiosity, she is not ready for the sight of Freyr down there. Hooded eyes watching her intently as he eats her out. Nor the complete bliss in his face as he registers her awareness. She was taken aback by the expression, that she alone was the one to make him look like that. And soon her thighs clamp over his head, fingers scratch at his scalp, and finally heavy waves of ecstasy befall her. His mouth is still working with her as she rides out the high.

Freyr removes his mouth from her once her body stops writhing, wiping his lips with the back of his hand he starts making his way to her lips. Peppering kisses here and there and nipping along her stomach and chest along the way. Happy at how dishevelled and content she looked beneath him. He gives her lip one kiss, the tip of his nose lightly brushing hers.

She catches her breath, cradling his neck lovingly as she pecks his lips back. “Not bad,”

He snickers, bumping their foreheads together. “Not bad? Is that it?”

“What do you want? A review?”

“Couldn’t hurt. I barely get compliments anymore,”

She grins up at him, feeling bold and slightly guilty, she draws her hands downwards till they land on Freyr’s shoulders. His skin is hot and glowing beneath her fingertips like a molten furnace. Slowly she pushes him onto his back with her above him like they were before.

She likes it this way. Peering down at him when he is in the throws of passion. She watches him organise battles and missions all day hunched over that damn war table. The weight of his world on his shoulders. Vali wants to take control away from him, allow him to simply enjoy this without worrying about taking over.

She reaches down; taking hold of him and stroking slowly. “I can think of something better than compliments,”

Freyr’s breath come quickly now. “Hah…so can I,”

A few pumps, enough to get Freyr to roll his head back in pleasure, and she starts to line him up with her entrance. Merely stroking herself with the tip for the moment, just to elicit a few whines from his beautiful lips, before sinking down on him.

She’ll never grow tired of that feeling fullness he gives her. Like a piece slotting into the right place, like he was scratching an itch she didn’t know she had. She pants as she takes him all the way, smiling as Freyr’s hand grabs at her hips to steady her yet this be over before it truly begins.

She gives him a moment, and when he finally looks up at her, she’s taken aback by how beautiful he is. Sure, Vali noticed Freyr’s beauty when the two of them met for the first time. She noted how he seemed to personify Vanaheim, with his natural grace and easy charm, his untamed hair adorned with feathers and beads from the land. But this was a different sort of beauty. It was one only she was allowed to witness; of his parted, puffy lips and blown out eyes. His dishevelled hair like a halo around his head. It was unique to her, allowed only to her. And therefore so much more valuable than the beauty of an eclipse.

She begins to move, keen to watch every expression flash across his features. Freyr huffs, trying hard to maintain eye contact yet his head kept rolling back from the pleasure as if manipulated by a magnet. Skin slapping on skin in a delicious symphony

“Freyr…I-” She can feel her abdomen clenching with ecstasy as she huffs. Building up like a hot ball in her stomach as his member thrusts in and out of her at hurried speed. She’s set on unwinding with him yet he seems to be unwinding her faster than she can comprehend. As if her body has a mind of its own, slamming her hips down all the faster as she chases that high.

Freyr gets other ideas however, wasting no time in securing her waist in his arms as soon as he senses her closeness. Tossing her over easily onto her back like she weighed nothing while still moving inside her. She yelps in surprise yet is very quickly muffled by his lips melding against her. All the while he keeps a brutal pace deep inside her.

“Fuck!” He sobs, burying his face into the crook of her neck as she wraps her arms around his shoulders. Doing everything in her power not to scratch at the rippled skin from his scars.

At this vigorous pace it isn’t long before Freyr’s hips stutter into the cradle of her hips, his movements rapid and messy as he breathes hard into her neck. One slow glide of his cock however, and Vali’s cries are finally dragged out of her again. A strangled cry as she comes, feeling her limbs shake and her walls clamping down on him. Serving to tear the waves of pleasure from him too at the feel of her.

He moves in and out of her, pumping slower and slower until his weight collapses on her. The smell of sex and nature is all around them blending into a rich smell as their breathing slows down. And Freyr finally finds the strength to roll off her and lay beside her. His arm came up to twiddle with a strand of her hair, still needing to maintain contact somehow.

“Whoo…that was…” He swallowed thickly. They both stare at the canopy of trees looming overhead, eyeing the trails of stars that exist between the leaves. Their only witness to their love.

“Amazing,” She finishes, feeling her body completely drained and satisfied. Each time they do this serves to be and more invigorating, only fueling her desire to keep laying with him. If only to chart the parts of him she has yet not experienced.

Freyr turns his head to gaze upon her. “Still thinking about going back to Asgard?”

She meets his gaze. Suddenly feeling the urge to sleep for a thousand years. “No…not tonight,”

It was clearly the answer he wished to hear. As a great big smile creases against his freckled cheeks. The hand that had been loving fidgeting with her hair glides to her cheek, caressing her as he moves to plant a kiss to her lips. When he pulls back however, that smile is surely replaced by a look of contemplation. Which unwinds into hesitance…

“Good, I want you to remain. I hate seeing you go back to that maniac…not knowing if you’ll return,”

“He needs me,” She answers nonchalantly.

Freyr frowns, shaking his head. “You say that like it’s meant to reassure me,”

“It means he has no intention of getting rid of me-”

“While he needs you,” Freyr sighs. “That’s what I’m afraid of. The day when he doesn’t need you anymore…”

She knows he has a point. Odin’s children were less like family and more akin to tools; assets part of a grander scheme. Cogs easily scrapped when they stopped working…

“For a God of fertility, you’ve got shit pillow talk,” She muses, hoping he’ll work with her to change the subject.

Freyr looks down. “Well, we haven’t got pillows. Just the nice hard ground,”

“So I’ve noticed,” She makes a show to stretch out her aching limbs.

“Never say I don’t spoil you,” He shoots her a guilty look before propping himself on his elbow to peer over her. “When this is all over, I’ll take you somewhere nice,”

“Nicer than the forest ground? Impossible,” She snorts. Moving her hand to his chest, hand over his beating heart. Charting shapes across the freckled skin, careful not to linger on the burn marks. “I’m not a flowers kind of woman. The forest floor, the war table, in a tent…hell if you wanted to try the trees I’ll do it. So long as it's with you,”

“You’re right. Your pillow talk is much better than mine. Maybe they ought to make you the God of fertility,”

“After your performance, I see why they call you that,” She smiles.

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

Vali is a real god from Norse Mythology, having been a babe for only a day before Odin aged him up. He is the one who punishes Loki for killing Baldur, personifying vengeance in this regard. I thought he was an awesome character considering how very metal he is in the mythology and how he is not present in God of War.

I have essentially genderbent this deity and made her my own character. Though I explain her situation briefly in the fic, I thought putting a note here would also be required. I hope you enjoyed the fic!!

#God of war #God of war Ragnarok #Freyr #Freyr GOW #Freyr God of War #God of war Freyr #GOW Freyr #Freyr x reader #fanfic #Felassanis Writes #GOW fanfic #GOWR #GOWR Freyr

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acourtofthought · 1 year

Note

I don’t really get involved with the Elain ship wars, but I think both sides - especially elucien shippers - seem to miss the point about an emerging theme in Elain’s story; and that is the importance of choice.

Throughout the entirety of Elain’s life, people have always made choices for her. Growing up, that was Nesta - always protecting Elain, and always speaking on her behalf. Later on, even though it was clear that Elain wanted to marry Graysen and live a normal, mortal life - that choice was also taken away from her, as she was forced to become fae and live in Prythian. Then, throughout the entirety of ACOWAR and beyond, we witness Nesta, Feyre and Rhys (as well as multiple other characters) speak about Elain‘s wants and needs, without actually consulting her.

The cherry on top, is a mating bond that Elain clearly doesn’t want. The absolute antithesis of choice, is forcing Elain to be with someone - just because a Cauldron (the same magical object that took away her mortal body and mortal life in the first place) said so. We even see Elain outwardly express her distaste at the situation;

“He brought you a present.” Those doe-brown eyes turned toward me. Sharper than I’d ever seen them. “And that entitles him to my time, my affections?” “No.” I blinked. “But he is a good male.” Despite our harsh words. Despite this Band of Exiles bullshit. “He cares for you.” “He doesn’t know me.” “You don’t give him the chance to even try to do so.” Her mouth tightened, the only sign of anger in her graceful countenance. “I don’t want a mate.“

And sure, I get that you and other elucien’s will argue that Elain will simply change her mind, and will fall in love with Lucien in later books. But, I personally think that if Elain suddenly has a change of heart, and does indeed follow the Cauldron’s wish and accepts the mating bond - then no matter how beautiful she and Lucien could be together, it’s a complete reversal of this theme that SJM has set up. If Elain ends up with Lucien because a higher power is pulling her towards him - is it really Elain’s choice, or the Cauldron’s?

And yes, Feyre and Rhys, Nesta and Cassian, Rowan and Aelin, Hunt and Bryce - are all mates, and all have beautiful relationships. But the fundamental difference between these couples and Elain and Lucien, is that they all had the chance to get to know one another before the mating bond snapped into place. And even though some of these couples hated each other in the beginning (ie. Rowan and Aelin), hate is still an intense emotion, there’s passion and fire mixed into it - something more. With Elain and Lucien… there’s nothing. It’s very lacking - Elain seemingly feels indifferent towards him. It just doesn’t feel like the start of an epic SJM romance - especially when Elain is fully aware of the mating bond with Lucien, yet is kissing another man while he’s in the same house. How many other endgame couples kissed another person after becoming aware of the mating bond…?

And let’s not forget Elain’s connection to Blodeuwedd - a connection that you appear to be aware of, given your posts and theories on the matter. But Blodeuwedd’s story closely aligns with Elain’s; she is forced to marry a man that she has no affections for, so she ends up running away with another. The entire premise of the Blodeuwedd folklore is about having autonomy to choose your own life - including the person you love.

And, Blodeuwedd certainly didn’t just wake up one day and decide that she actually wants to be with Llew - the man she was forced to marry. That would be a complete reversal of the narrative. I’m not sure why you expect the same of Elain.

I can see Elain and Lucien being good friends, but I think SJM has better plans for both of them. Plans that involve them both choosing a love they deserve.

"How many other endgame couples kissed another person before becoming aware of the Mating Bond?"

That little excerpt right there is Nesta talking to Cassian. No, she may not have known what it meant but it was a feeling beyond her control.

From the second she met Cassian, she knew he was something to her. Just as from the second Elain looked in Lucien's eyes for the first time, she knew he was something to her.

Nesta was willing to die for Cassian in ACOWAR, a proclamation of her feelings yet she still chose to sleep with many other males after that. Because she was angry. Because she was struggling to adjust to everything that had happened. So she pretended she didn't want the very thing she was drawn to, something she couldn't stop herself from feeling. She, with an awareness of her feelings for Cassian (feelings she never asked for or decided for herself) chose to have sex with multiple other men. Which is a whole lot more than almost kissing just one.

And you claim Elain doesn't want a Mating Bond but please point me in the direction of where it says Nesta ever wanted a Mating Bond with Cassian. In fact, Nesta even tells us "husband" was as good as it got and that she specifically doesn't like the thought of a Mating Bond because it means parting with the last of her humanity.

Elain was in love with Graysen and engaged when she lost her humanity and the bond snapped into place. The girl is allowed to have a rebound / crush before making another lifelong decision.

And isn't it possible that if Nesta made the choices she did out of fear despite being drawn to Cassian, we might come to find out that Elain is saying what she says and doing what she's done because she too is afraid of being drawn to Lucien? Imagine thinking you know love with one person, being ready to marry them, then instantly feeling something more powerful than you could have imagined for another? That's going to be an overwhelming feeling, it's going to leave you questioning what you thought you knew and it's going to take some time before you're ready to face some hard truths.

"Throughout the entirety of Elain's life, people have made choices for her"

Hmmmm, I guess Nesta knew a little something about that too. Yet she still learned to fully embrace being Fae, Cassian, and her Mating Bond. Despite that she didn't have a choice in what happened to her or being drawn to him from the moment they met.

Not to mention no one is making choices for Elain that she's ever argued against (until SF). Of course being kidnapped and put into the Cauldron wasn't her choice but it wasn't Nesta's either. It wasn't Feyre's choice to be kidnapped by Tamlin in book 1. And none of the sisters decided their mother should die or they'd go into poverty. Those things were a result of misfortune and not a choice or lack of choice.

Please give me one example of where Elain was told by friends or family "you will do this" to which Elain replied, "I will not" to which the other person responded, "I don't care, you're doing it anyway" and they forced her to do it. Elain has had just as much agency as any other character. The only things that weren't her choice are the exact same things every other person in the series has dealt with. It wasn't Rhys's choice to be tricked by Amarantha, it wasn't Mor's choice to have a nail put in her, it wasn't Lucien's choice to have Jesminda murdered or be SA by Ianthe or beaten by Tamlin or Feyre's choice to be locked up by Tamlin.

These arguments about choice in regards to relationships make me laugh because picking Lucien is still a choice. Is someone holding a sword to her head? Telling her she has to pick Lucien? Since the answer to that is no, the argument holds no weight.

Elain and Lucien are basically a friend setting them up on a double date after divorce because "They'd be perfect together!" Elain can decide, "no, I'm not ready for a double date" and refuse. But she could also take a little time to do her own thing, realize she's past the crappy Tinder dates then finally agree to that double date and realize how amazing Lucien is.

I made some poor dating choices in my youth too and hated the guys my mother would have preferred I end up with. But eventually I matured, realized why the guys I dated weren't working out to well for me and ended up dating someone my mother adores. But for awhile, I of course knew better than her because what teenager / young adult doesn't? Turns out, she knew a little something about quality dating material and I was just too stubborn to accept it.

That's Elain and Fate is her parent. She's refusing to accept that Lucien is not only a choice but the right choice for her because she needs to prove no one can tell her what to do. And that's fine for now but with her emotional growth will come maturity and the awareness that Lucien is her Mate for a reason.

I also like how you conveniently left off:

If she could change her mind on not wanting a male, then why couldn't she again change her mind on wanting a Mate?

You know why Rhys's parents weren't a match?

Elain is absolutely soft and fiery at times and well liked by pretty much everyone but who is more cold and vicious? Lucien or Az? Rhys's parents weren't a match because their personalities were too different. Canonically, Elain and Lucien are extremely similar in their values, their interests, and how they handle conflict.

And I think you're missing the point of the fairytale.....

Blodeuwedd was about her being upset over not having a choice yes, but..... She was punished for the choice she did make, choosing to cheat on Llew (Lucien). And the part Az plays in the fairytale ended up getting him murdered by Llew.

And SJM doesn't do literal retellings, she samples from lore and fairytale and gives them a happy ending so her "Blodeuwedd" could end up realizing that sometimes things that happen to us are actually the best things for us.

These are fantasy books and they're less about the character proving "ain't nobody gonna tell me what I can do" and more about them learning to accept their Fates. By accepting their Fates, it sets into motion the chain of events which help them save their world.

Rhys suspected Feyre was his mate before he ever laid eyes on her and the bond snapped before he and Feyre were friends. Cassian suspected Nesta's was his Mate too which is the reason he kept holding his hand out to a literal stranger who seemingly wanted nothing to do with him.

Are their love story's less beautiful because they knew what those females were to them from the very start?

The mating bond has nothing to do with anything. The mating bond is someone, aka Fate saying, "Hey! I know this person and I think you'd be well matched!" The journey is the character then deciding when they're ready to consider Fates suggestion to see if Fate was right. And that's the thing Anti Elucien's can't seem to grasp. Because at some point Elain will get to know Lucien, even if it's just to see if they could be friends. But when they are two characters who are written as being extremely compatible in all the ways it counts, there's very little chance love won't be quick to follow.

Lucien is still a choice. The point is making the choice for the right reasons and not JUST because they have a bond. And when you look at the things Elain stands for then look at who Lucien is, it's very clear how well matched they are.

#pro elucien #elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #anti e/riel #elain x lucien #lucien and elain #elain and lucien #pro lucien vanserra #lucien x elain #blodeuwedd #azriel acotar #lucien acotar #acotar elain

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everythingblreview · 1 year

Note

why you hate jast blue so much?

I already gave many reason but if you want to know I can summarize it again.

First of all, I would like to say that I fully support localisations and always buy the English release even though I have the Japanese release too. But Jast blue really messed it up.

Before this I also was fully supportive of them and even recommended my friend to buy their dmmd release, because they promised they will do the game justice (something that was not always the case with the fan translation) but I didn’t know how the quality of it was at the time, and let me tell you how shocked I was when my friend shared her experience with the translation (keep in mind we are both major in Japanese language) she hated the game so much and said the translation made her experience worse.

It didn’t help that jast didn’t care about the complains of people about the translations and after all this I was already not that happy with them, but all their dirty lies unravelled in the following months. The quality of their game releases is bad, not only the translation, but the fact also that they “worked so hard” on something just to release a game full of typos and bugs, with a bunch of swearing added. They refuse to take any critics and block everyone who criticize them, that’s not how you treat your customers.

And my biggest problem with them is their translation and how they deal with games of a different culture. They have 0 respect for Japanese language and culture they just take the games and make an American version of it, and act like It’s the only correct way to do this. “Localisation” means making it understandable for people who you are releasing the game for, not to rewrite it in the way you like it. They are still stuck in the mentality of 2013 dmmd tumblr days and see BL games as nothing but porn made so people can make fun of it, and that’s how they advertise them.

The slow damage localisation was the last straw for me, their translation sounds nothing like the original game. The characters and especially the MC’s personality was made up by them, everything I see people “like” about him, was never in the original. How dare they to slut shame a character who suffered such a trauma (yes surprise there is no such thing in the original), they way they changed everything so they could keep up their “edgy and meme-y” image of the game is extremely disrespectful to the writer. The Japanese version and the English version could be not more different. Even the translator of the Korean patch said they pity us because of the bad translation. You are not supposed to put your own interpretation of a game as a translator, and this is what they do. The translator doesn’t like BL and you can see it in the way she translates the game.

Also, when I called out their editor on twitter for lying about not including certain words in the game, even though they did in the end, she instantly went to her follower to complain about how someone is mean to her instead of providing an answer to her lies. I can’t believe people actually try to defend them. Jast blue has the most entitled American attitude I’ve ever seen. They act like they are so much better then everyone else and can’t make any mistakes. You know why no other English released bl games get critics for their localisation? Because they don’t do all this and respects the material they are working with.

I’m not going to sit here and look at them doing this to every BL game, I want people to take these games seriously because BL games still have a very dirty image in the western community. I don’t want them to do more BL games. I’m sick of this clown show so that’s why I’m always asking people to not support them. They are not the only one releasing bl games, so I’m not worried of not getting English releases, and even if I rather have no English releases than a game, that disrespects the writer, the culture that is fully of bug memes and swearing.

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redley-of-many-noodles · 4 months

Text

Hello there,

Welcome to my blog.

I’m Redley. Relatively new to Tumblr still, but I’ve been finding that I’m comfy here. Though it still feels awkward (thanks, dysphoria), I prefer she/her pronouns. I don’t mind they/them, but… meh. Note that Redley is neither my legal or chosen name; it is solely a handle, and I will only tell you my chosen name if I feel comfortable with you. If I extend that trust, please treat it with respect. If you don’t, I will remember.

Here’s the main stuff I’m comfortable sharing or want you to know about me:

1) I’m transfem, but haven’t had an opportunity to do much actual transitioning yet. Dislike my voice, adore my hair. My luscious, glorious, flowing hair.

1.5) I am likely pansexual, but I haven’t done enough research to know for sure. All I know is, people are… well, people are hot.

2) I live in Florida, but was not raised here. The climate and scenery are nice; the local government sucks ass though. Also, I miss snow.

3) I’m a diagnosed autistic, falling somewhere on the high-functioning end of the spectrum. I’m on prescribed antidepressants, but have not been able to find a psychologist/psychiatrist yet because it’s fucking Florida.

4) There are a lot of things and people I don’t understand, but I’m always open to learning. Trying new food is a special passion of mine, and I’ve met some quite fascinating new people since starting this blog. (*eoughck* @potentially-a-poser *aucghk* @analogue-system *ahem*)

5) I will not tolerate hateful behavior. You will be immediately blocked for shit like denying any of the shades of aro/ace individuals as being part of the LGBTQIA+ community. If you see me spreading misinformation or saying something that excludes members of the community, please tell me. I’ll research the matter, as well as review any sources you send me.

5.5) okay so I think I’m demiromantic

6) I do not mind being tagged or sent asks or otherwise brought into conversations. People who abuse that will likely get blocked, but whatever your social anxiety is telling you probably comes nowhere near ‘abuse’ in my book. Anonymous asks are enabled, but that can likewise change if the feature is abused. Hate asks will be blocked, naturally.

7) I would prefer being asked before you directly message me. If you don’t, there is a possibility you’ll be blocked, but it’s not a guarantee. I don’t want me and my friends’ conversations getting buried by anything.

8) If you consistently and frequently post tiktok/reddit memes with little to no commentary, I may block you simply out of annoyance should you repeatedly show up on my dash. It’s not personal. If something about you makes me suspicious or uncomfortable, but not outright offended, I’ll most likely notify you of my reason before I block you.

9) Age: pick a number between 1 and 100 because it’s none of your fucking business. None of you are entitled to any of my personal information, regardless of the reason. I will share only what I want.

My Behaviors

There are certain things I gravitate towards or away from on this site. Here’s some:

1) I am most likely to follow people who are part of the LGBTQIA+ community, are mentally ill, or are dealing with some variety of personality disorder. This is mostly just due to the fact that I find the most common ground with those people. But even those who I have little common ground with, I’ll tend to find very interesting.

2) I don’t mind things like roleplay and hornyposting on my dash, but will almost certainly not interact myself, or make original posts in that category. More extreme examples won’t necessarily get you blocked or unfollowed, but… well, my filtered tags list may grow.

3) I don’t always tag reblogs. This may mean that my followers will see random things that caught my interest. It could be art, shitposting, tender affirmations, politics, or just goofy-ass Tumblr shit. If something I regularly reblog/post about bothers you and isn’t properly tagged, let me know.

4) I am discovering that maybe, I might, perhaps, be a little bit nosy. When I see someone receiving hate or suffering and stressed, I am likely to take it upon myself to do or say something to try to make them feel better. If I bother you with this, I will not be hurt or offended if you block me. In general, I will do my best to be respectful of it when people draw boundaries, so don’t hesitate to draw any you feel necessary.

5) If your intentions are pure, you will likely find that I try to be forgiving and/or understanding of your mistakes, at least in regards to interacting with me. (The /or is a very important distinction.)

6) I will often be attracted to dark, tragic, or dystopic works of art/fiction. I get a form of catharsis from such media, and some of my writing will reflect that.

That’s about it.

That’s all the important stuff I can think of, aside from tags which are at the end. Still, this post may be updated or rewritten in the future. In general, just be kind and open-minded, and we’ll get along fine. Even if you disagree with me, as long as you are civil and rational about things, I’ll likely have no problem interacting with you.

Be safe, and be yourself! <3

🇵🇸🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈

My Tags:

#redley’s playlist - Some of my favorite songs!

#redley’s photos - Photos taken by/of me!

#writing - Writing related things and occasionally stuff I’ve made! (#poetry will also contain some of my work)

#let me just frame this one - My personal favorite posts by others. Put that right up on the wall!

#cw/tw: [content] - I will tag posts that I recognize may be disturbing to others with content warnings and/or trigger warnings. This way, you can filter content that may be harmful to your mental health to view. If a post is missing an important one, let me know.

#intro post #transgender #autism #writers on tumblr #lgbtqia+#demiromantic #queer #free palestine #🚗🔨⚒️💥#not really a part of any fandoms but i love browsing them. it’s very fun #fuck tumblr staff #fuck the us government #maybe if the site survives photomatt swinging his cock around i’ll upload timeline photos one day

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boldlyvoid · 2 years

Text

Breakable Heaven | Chapter Five: Caught

18+

Summary: Her father is sitting on the porch waiting for her when she gets home...

Warnings: oral (fem receiving), angst, fighting, protective dad!Aaron, crying, alcohol consumption, love confessions

Word Count: 6k

Masterlist

He has a bit of a panic attack when he realizes his daughter isn’t in her room anymore, but her window is wide open.

“Andy?!” He calls from the stairwell, he runs down and checks the kitchen, the living room, and the laundry room, but she’s nowhere to be found.

“She fucking snuck out again,” he starts digging in his closet for a pair of jeans like he’s going to go out and find her himself.

“And what are you going to do about it? Huh?” Haley stares him down. “If your daughter has a boyfriend at 19, let her!! Leave her alone!”

“But she’s sneaking out,” Aaron raises his voice right back. “She’s not here. I don’t know where she is. I don’t know if she’s safe or dead or what?”

“Just because the worst always happens at work, doesn’t mean it’s going to happen to her,” she reaches out for his hand and holds it. Pulling him closer to the bed and making him sit on the edge. “This is no different than when she didn’t live with us. We didn’t know what she was doing at all hours of the day then either… and sure, it would be nice to know where she goes but we’re not entitled to that information anymore, Aar-bear.”

“What do you know?”

“What?” She plays dumb.

“Andy’s dating someone, isn’t she?”

“She said it’s just a summer fling, and it’s none of your business,” Haley doesn’t give him any more than he needs to know. “He’s nice, she’s happy, if something goes wrong she promises to tell you before it’s too late.”

He lets out a deep sigh and plops down on the bed beside her, “I hate this.”

“She’s safe,” Haley smiles, “believe me, with him… she’s safe.”

“It’s Reid isn’t it?” He sighs, he had a feeling she was going for him. Even though she said she wouldn’t do anything to ruin his team's dynamic, he knew Reid was good at keeping secrets and thus nothing would change unless Aaron made it change.

“I think so,” she smiles, turning to him full of excitement, “Aar-bear, she’s found a man who will listen to her, care for her, do anything for her… not only because he’s never had anything like this before and doesn’t want to lose her, but because he is truly respectful and kind.”

“That’s the worst part,” he finally lets his fear out. “I’ve seen people in this unit be targeted before. I’ve seen so many people die on the job and leave people in ruins, I don’t want that to happen to her.”

“Do you really think Spencer Reid would become the victim of a psychopath? He’s the least confrontational,” Haley laughs, thinking she knows him from the small number of stories he’s told her and the handful of times she met him.

“He’s so incredibly smart, he has cracked the last 14 cases we’ve invited him on. He knows the ins and outs of a criminal's mind in a way I envy, and if I’m jealous of the way he can figure shit out, imagine how pissed the criminals are?”

“I never thought of it like that,” Haley thinks twice. “So, are you not afraid of leaving me broken and alone?”

He tilts his head to the side and looks at her with a brow raised, “the difference is I will kill someone with my bare hands if they come near you or Andy or Jack. Spencer can’t shoot his way out of a wet paper bag, how is he supposed to protect her?”

She looks at him the same way he just looked at her, “did you really just ask who’s going to protect Andrea Jane Hotchner?”

“I know she can protect herself,” he lays flat on his back and stares up at the ceiling, trying his hardest not to cry. “I just wish I had longer to protect her. She’s not a little girl anymore… when the fuck did that happen?” He covers his face as he cries.

“Oh Aar,” she tries to cuddle him but her big bump gets in the way, he turns into her hug and holds her as close as possible. “It’s okay, she’s still your little girl, no matter how big she gets.”

He nods, “I know that… how do I accept it though?”

“What’s your number one wish for her?”

“For her to be happy,” he says it before he can even really think why she would ask.

“So watch her change, let her be happy and grow to love this new Andy we’re going to get through her summer lover,” Haley keeps eye contact with him so he really listens. “You know what it’s like, my dad hated you, and he still does, but you don’t have to hate Spencer. You could embrace this, expand your bond with Andy…”

“I can try,” he really does think he could…

But when he wakes up, he doesn’t feel the same.

She’s not there when his alarm goes off. She’s still not there when he makes coffee. His anger builds inside, she knew this wasn’t cool when she did it as a teenager, why would she keep doing it now when she so desperately wants to be treated like an adult?

So he does the least rational thing possible and he takes his coffee and he walks to the end of the driveway where he stands by the gate and he waits.

—

When the sun comes through the window and lands directly on her closed eyelids, she knows she fucked up.

She sits up in a panic, making Spencer startle in his sleep under her. They fully passed out together after having sex in the back of his car and now it was morning.

“Oh shit,” she starts looking for her clothes, realizing they’re still outside the car… on the lawn by the lake…

She wraps the blanket around herself, leaving Spencer naked in the back seat, half asleep, so she can run out and get their clothes. “Fuck, fuck,” she scolds herself, picking up the dew-covered clothes. They were basically soaking wet, she wasn’t going to be able to get back into her jeans easily, it was uncomfortable and damp, making her feel even worse.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer comes out with a blanket wrapped around himself too, “I’m so sorry, I was just going to let you sleep on me for a few minutes and then I passed out too.”

“It’s not your fault,” she explains as she slips back into her shirt. “I’m just anxious, it’s not your fault.”

“I can still feel bad,” he picks up his things and starts getting dressed too.

She takes a deep breath before things get ugly, she’s seen her parents, well her dad and Haley, fight about dumb things and not talk for days. Thats nowhere near where she wants to take her future relationships.

“I had a good time, though,” she reminds him with a sweet smile. “I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

“Yeah?” He looks her up and down, studying her.

“Absolutely,” she steps into his space and wraps her arms around him, he holds her waist and brings her in so they’re chest to chest.

“I have to bring you home before you’re never allowed outside again,” he teases. “But I’m not ready to stop holding you yet.”

“We’ll have to plan something,” she can’t stop staring at his lips while he talks. “I’ll tell them I’m going to Jasmin’s new apartment and we can spend the whole day in bed together.”

“The whole day?” He’s intrigued. “What would the itinerary be?

“Cuddles, breakfast in bed, sex, cuddles, lunch, more sex,” she can’t help but smirk. “Definitely a lot of sex.”

“I’m sorry about last night,” he apologizes through a smirk, not wanting to get fixated on sex, especially when he didn’t want to have it last night.

“It’s okay,” she smiles, “I still had a wonderful time, clearly,” she gestures to what just happened, and he was still half naked. “and I understand and respect your choice completely. I wouldn’t want to lose my virginity in my mom's car either.”

“I want to make it special when we do go all the way, for both of us,” he clarifies that last part, staring deep into her matching honey brown eyes. “From the stories you’ve told me, that guy was a dickhead and a half for knowing it was your first time and not doing a single thing to pleasure you.”

“They do say first the worst, second the best,” she remembers that saying from her mom. “By they, I mean my mom. If I lost a game she said that, and once we won and I was sad we won, actually.”

“Really?” He thinks thats so cute of her. “Why?”

“I felt that sadness before, so my mom encouraged me to go shake all their hands a second time and invite them to pizza with our team,” she remembers it fondly. “My mom was always so cool like that.”

“She sounds amazing,” he agrees, flashing her a sad smile and pulling her in for a tight hug. “Can I meet her someday?”

“She died, Spence?” She knows he literally can't forget the things she tells him, so why would he forget that?

“I know,” he pulls away with a serious look on his face, he brings his hands up to cup hers. “But is she buried somewhere here or do you have her ashes? I can still meet her where she lays.”

Chills cover her body, and tears well in her eyes as she nods, “y-yeah, um, I can take you to her sometime. Um, my grandparents have her ashes in Virginia Beach, they live there now.”

He wipes her tears and presses a sweet kiss to her nose and then to her lips, “she’s watching over you, and I’d like to let her know I’m on her side, I’m never going to hurt you.”

Her heart stops then. She freezes.

If this were a movie you’d hear the record scratch as the video comes to a screening halt. The narrator comes on screen she takes out a sun chair and a bag of popcorn and looks at the audience, “you see this part?” She points at the screen. “This is the part where she falls in love with him.”

“I mean it,” Spencer continues. “Even if this is just for fun and you don’t really want to date me later, the last thing on my mind is hurting you.”

“O-okay,” she nods lightly, blinking a few times as she snaps back into it. “I uh, I think I should get back home now…”

“Yeah,” he breaks away from her. “Let me just get my pants back on,” he can’t help but laugh.

She can’t laugh. She’s emotionally frozen in the feeling brewing inside of her. It was awful. Like anxiety that she’s never felt before, she could compare it to yearning, she could compare it to excitement… what she didn’t know, is that it was an all-encompassing, devouring power of true love that was rushing through her that made her feel so sick to her stomach.

And not just any old love… secret love.

She couldn’t tell him! No way. That was the last thing she wanted to do! So she gets all the way dressed, she gathers her things and she sits back down in the passenger seat of his car.

“Are you okay?” He asks as he gets in.

She nods, “just exhausted.” It’s a good lie, cause he looked pretty tired too. “Um, can you drop me off at the end of the hill? I think my dad will be waiting in the driveway to catch you. He did it the very last time I snuck out.”

“Yeah,” he starts the engine and then turns to her, “don’t worry, he won’t catch us.”

“Good,” she gives him a small smile and then looks out the window, wishing for a greater power to make sure things go right.

it’s hard to keep her composure while they drive back to her neighbourhood. He’s everything she’s ever wanted, so why is she so terrified of these feelings?

When he pulls up to the end of her street, she leans over and steals a quick kiss from him before reaching for her things and starting to leave, “really?” Spencer stops her.

“You’re not going to say anything?”

“I’m incredibly anxious,” she admits, “I need to go sneak back inside and my dads probably waiting to yell at me, so I’m sorry if I’m not being the best fuck buddy right now.”

“Okay,” he lets her go, there isn’t a real goodbye, she just closes the door behind herself and watches him drive off before she starts the walk back home.

She sees her dad waiting on the porch with the newspaper and his coffee. She just keeps walking toward him, “I don’t need the lecture. I hate myself enough for the both of us right now.”

“What did you do?” He fears the worst instantly.

“Legally I can’t tell you,” she lies. Only making her father's blood boil.

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I was at Jasmine's all night and I didn’t want to turn the alarm off and wake Haley so I went out the old way,” she lies convincingly. “I slept terribly, sitting up straight I might add. Nothing freaky happened, I’m exhausted.”

“Well,” he huffs to himself and folds his arms. “I guess this is punishment enough for you… just, next time can you leave a note, or call me?”

She nods, “I don’t know if there will be a next time.”

“Something happen between you and Jas?” He’s so concerned.

She shakes her head, tears welling, “it’s her boyfriend… they’re fighting and I was there as a mediator but, god, it’s so stupid. I love her, and I want her to be happy, right?”

He pulls her in for a hug and rubs her back. “If you’re lying to me, I won’t be mad if you change to the truth right now.”

She sobs against him, “I can’t yet. I don’t even want to admit it to myself.”

He huffs again, still pissed but unable to get mad at her. “Well, Marble missed you which meant he was whining most of the night at your door, so, along with a note, don’t keep the door closed on him?”

She laughs with a sniffle, “thank you for being a little calm, I was bracing to get kicked out… I’m sorry.”

“I hate seeing you cry,” he says as she pulls away, he cups her cheeks in his hands and wipes her tears with his thumbs. “Promise me you’re okay?”

She nods, “I will be… being 19 is weird.”

“Just be thankful you’re not figuring it out with a kid,” he reminds her. “I just don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did.”

“I mean, if I was guaranteed a kid like me I’d do it too,” she teases him but all he does is give her another hug.

“You are pretty great… just,” he presses his lips together with a hug as he thinks about his next words.

“What?” She pulls away, nervously.

“It upsets me that you don’t want to share parts of your life with me anymore.”

“If I told you I was in a car with a man you know doing things you wouldn’t approve of, you’d be able to keep your cool?” She asks him, point blank. “Hypothetically, of course.”

He grinds his teeth together in order to keep his mouth shut as the anger fills him. “Mhm.”

“See, that right there is why cause if I was actually doing crazy shit like that I can’t just come home and tell you. I’d love to, believe me, but that’s not something daughters share with their fathers when it happens.”

She had a point.

He sighs with both hands on his hips now, she always laughed at the way he tucked his white shirt into his checkered pyjama pants. He was like an old man at heart, it was comforting. “Well, there’s coffee in the pot or you can head upstairs and get some more sleep.”

“I’m going to show first,” she presses her lips together awkwardly as she backed up slowly. “Again, super sorry I snuck out, I’ll tell you before I go do adult things with agents in their cars next time.”

“Not funny.”

“at least I’m telling the truth this time,” she calls back and then runs up the stairs as fast as she could.

The dog ran from Haley's room to hers as soon as the door was open and joined her, he jumped up on the bed waiting for a scratch and some cuddles. She did just that, throwing her jacket to the floor and scooping the fluffy dog up for a snuggle. “At least someone missed me.” He licks her face just once, making her laugh before she put him back down on the bed.

She heads to her bathroom, leaving the door open so Marble can come and go as he pleases.

But she gets caught up in the mirror as she undresses. She’s covered in a mix of hickies and mosquito bites. She smells like lake water from skinny dipping and her hair is gross. Her fingers travel down her neck, between her breasts and down her chest, following the trail Spencer left last night.

She still feels terrible.

Last night he was so good to her, that he finally did what the both of them had been waiting for… but it never went any further.

They kicked off their clothes and splashed around in the water a bit, swimming out as far as they could before the seaweed freaked him out. Then, standing where the water was just high enough to cover their necks, she floated there with her legs wrapped around him and her hands resting on his shoulders.

It was strange just talking about their personal lives while their naked bodies touched. So it, of course, started to heat up… first with questions, then kissing and then grinding against his erection until he was dragging her out of the water and laying her down on a blanket in his backseat.

He kissed her neck and palmed her breasts as he hovered over her, her skin probably tasted like lake water but it didn’t stop him. He kissed down the cavern between her breasts, squeezing them together quickly so he can kiss them together and make her giggle.

He keeps kissing south, spreading her legs further as he drops to his knees on the car floor, he looks up at her through thick lashes and then down at her miraculous pussy. “wow…”

“Show me what you’ve wanted to do,” she whispered, running her fingers through his damp hair gently. “Please, baby?”

He kisses the inside of her thigh first, caressing her skin with his prickly cheek as he savoured the moment.

She doesn’t remember much after that, eyes closed, windows foggy, Spencer moaning against her heat as if he was being pleasured and not her… he loved it, she fucking loved it, arching her back in the seat she holds his hair while she cums on his face.

“More, more,” she pulls him up, reaching for his cock to see it softening, his own cum in his hand, he was jerking off the whole time which only filled her with more heat. “no way…”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait,” he apologizes, breathing heavily as he comes down from his own high. He grabs some tissues from his centre console and wipes his hand off, “you were just so fucking hot and you taste so good…”

She laughs and relaxes against the seat again, “how long till you’re hard again?”

“Why?”

“So we can have sex?” She laughs, “isn’t that the whole reason why we came out here tonight?”

“Uh,” he gets embarrassed, swallowing sharply and turning a brighter shade of pink, illuminated by the moonlight. “Um… can I be honest with you?”

She’s nervous as all hell, but she nods.

“I want my first time to be in a bed… I want to have you over for dinner and light candles and be sappy, but if you’re not into that, or this isn’t that kind of thing, then we can do it here, now, sure…”

“No,” she sits right up and pulls him onto the seat so she can cuddle into him, “sweetheart, that sounds wonderful, I don’t want to rush you if you’re not ready…”

“I am… just, not to do it here,” he confirmed once more. Grabbing the blankets and getting them all cozied up in the backseat.

She snaps herself out of it then, turning on the shower so that she could hide the sound of her sobs with the water. She knew she was going to cry because the next thing she remembered from their magical night together was waking up that morning and him saying he still wants to meet her mom…

And, by god, her mom would’ve loved him too.

—

Spencer knows he fucked up when Hotch slams a handful of files down on his desk, “I need these done by lunch.”

“Yes, sir…” he doesn’t question it, but he knows there’s something wrong.

The rest of the team notices it too as he doesn’t hand the rest of the team any files, he simply walks back up to his office and harshly closes the door.

“What the fuck was that?” Derek whispered to Elle from his desk.

She shrugs, “I have no idea?”

They make a plan using their eyes, Derek heads up to JJ’s office and Elle makes her way over to Spencer’s desk. “Do you want some help?”

He shakes his head, scanning through the files and making sure they replayed the series of events correctly enough to be passed on to the higher-ups. All he really had to do was add details and initials on different pages, it wasn’t that hard, that’s why they normally split it up to go through them faster.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Nope,” he keeps working. “It’s not a team issue, it’s an Aaron issue.”

“You’re using his first name now…”

“Might as well if he thinks I’m fucking his daughter,” he mumbles.

“What?”

He turns to Elle and places a finger over his lips. “Andy and I are good friends, we’ve been bonding over being former gifted kids, we talk on the phone most nights and I helped her paint her brother's room this weekend… but then I also snuck her out so we could go star gazing together and we fell asleep in the back of my car and he thinks we had sex.”

It’s not the true series of events that took prior 2 nights ago, but it was as close to the truth as he could get. “She’s probably my best friend.”

“And you have a crush on her?” Elle sees right through it.

He nods, “but it’s not like that. It’ll probably never be like that.”

“Don’t sell yourself so short, buddy,” she pats his shoulder gently, “I’m sure the more she gets to know you, the harder it’ll be to stay just friends.”

“But I don’t want Hotch to literally murder me?” He leans in closer as he whispers, true terror in his voice.

“Prove to him that you’re trustworthy, take on extra responsibilities, pass your gun qualifications, crack more cases, if you’re on your A-game then he has no reason to not trust you with his daughter,” she rationalizes it. “Just, don’t break her heart.”

“Oh, I could never,” Spencer knows that for sure. “She’ll probably break mine though."

“Why’s that?”

“After I dropped her off that morning, she didn’t even say goodbye she just kissed me and ran… and I called her every night since like I normally do and she hasn’t answered. I don’t know what I did wrong?”

“You can always just go talk to her, face to face?”

“When?”

Elle gets closer, “hotch stays late, now if we finish these you can leave before he does, you can go to her house and throw rocks at her window.”

“I did that on Saturday,” he manages to smile. “it’s only been a few nights, I’ll call again tonight and if I don’t hear from her maybe I’ll do that…”

Elle pats his back, “good luck, my friend.”

—

It was only Wednesday night and she was back to her old tricks again.

“Where is she?” Aaron asks as he enters the master bedroom that night. He rips his tie off, gets out of his dress shirt and sits on the edge of the bed with a huff.

“I can’t believe her.”

“I’m so tired,” Haley groans, “maybe if you didn’t come home at 10pm every night, you’d know where your kid is.”

Instead of thinking rationally, he picks up the home phone on his night table and calls the one, the only, Spencer Reid.

“Where is she?”

“What?” Spencer plays dumb.

“Andrea. Is she with you?”

“No, sir, I haven’t seen her since that Saturday when we painted Jack's room,” he sounds so sincere but Aaron still doesn’t trust him.

“You have an hour to find her and return her to this house, do you hear me?”

“Yes sir,” he replies and then the line goes dead.

“She’s going to hate you for that.”

“Don’t care,” he finishes getting undressed and ready for bed. “I’m so fucking tired of this, Haley. It’s like she doesn’t respect me in the slightest. All I’ve done my whole life is work my ass off to insure she had a wonderful life and she repays me by fucking one of my agents and sneaking out of the house. The house I pay for and let her still live in… she forgets that part too.”

“So ask her to pay rent, if she’s going to treat our house like an apartment where she can come and go, make her pay for it too…”

Half asleep and yet still the smartest woman he knows. He climbs into bed beside her and kisses the top of her head as she moves in closer for a cuddle. “Then she’ll have to get a job and won’t have time for Spencer…”

“Or you calling Spencer to pick her up is just going to push her to keep seeing him. Cause to me, it looks like you trust him enough to get her home safely…”

“fuck…”

He didn’t think about that.

—

She was drunk off her tits for the first time in years, grinding against Jasmine as they moved to the rhythm in the middle of the dance floor. She was trying to have a good time. All she wanted was to forget the fact that she was in love, but every song reminded her.

She still sang along, jumping to the beat with her arm in the air, shouting with everyone, it was as fun as it could be for a Wednesday night in downtown DC.

Jasmine pulls her off the dance floor and towards the bathroom where it’s quieter, “do you not feel that?”

“What?” She’s too drunk to really even understand her.

“Your phone is buzzing in your pocket, nonstop, it sounds important,” Jasmine explains as she reaches into her pocket for her and picks it up. “Hello? Well, hi Spencer, it’s nice to talk to you finally.”

She's too busy looking at her hair in the mirror to pay attention to the phone call, simply in her own little drunk world.

“Andy? Yeah, she’s with me, we’re at Blank Space, the dance bar downtown, do you know it?”

That makes her snap back into it.

“Don’t tell him that,” Andy reaches for the phone and tries to get it back. “I don't want to talk to him.”

“Yes you do,” Jasmine fights back, pushing her away and keeping the phone to her ear. “She’s super drunk, can you come'n help me with her? Thank you, I’ll see you soon.”

“Why would you do that!!!” Andy yells at her. “I can’t talk to him!”

“Why not?” Jasmine had no clue what was going on and before tonight, Andy wanted to keep it that way.

“Nothing, I just don’t want to see him tonight, this is my night,” she tries to lie but her words slur and she makes too much eye contact with Jasmine before leaning into her. “You’re pretty, not as pretty as Spencer, but, pretty.”

“Is that why you don’t want to see him like this?” Jas laughs.

She nods and looks around to see not many people paying attention to her meltdown as they wait to use the toilets. She leans in close to whisper, “he can’t know that I’m in love with him.”

Jas smiles, “what’s the worst that could happen?”

“He loves me back and we get married and have kids and I have to be an FBI agents wife and live alone in a big house and only see him on weekends and our kids will barely know him and I’ll miss him and then he’ll get hurt or die and never come home and if I never see him again I’ll never be okay and—

“Okay, okay, back it up sister,” she pulls her in for a hug and holds her close to her chest to calm her down. “Spencer isn’t your father, he isn’t like the other agents, deep down you know that.”

“I’m still scared…”

“That’s the fun part,” Jas reminds her. “Love wouldn’t be worth it if it didn’t scare the shit out of you… Remember we went to Six Flags for spring break and you kept wanting to go on the rollercoasters even though the first ride scared you so bad?”

She nods, “it does feel like I’m going click click click on my way to the top right now…” she can’t help but laugh, fumbling around on her heels a bit, she probably won’t remember this tomorrow.

Jasmine smiles at her softly, “falling is the fun part. Let yourself go.”

She nods, agreeing just to get the conversation to stop, “can we get another drink before he comes to get me?”

She shakes her head, “I think you’re drunk enough… come on, let’s go wait by the doors for him.”

“Fine,” she sighs and follows her out the door, they squeeze by a bunch of people, she’s hit on a few times before they make it to the bag and coat check, they grab their things and then she’s out in the fresh air again.

She walks out with her arms spread wide, almost right into the street, “ahh, I love the fresh air at 1 in the morning.”

“It’s 11 pm,” the bouncer corrects her. “How are you this drunk I let you in an hour ago?”

“What can I say?” She asks, eyes barely able to stay open and she stumbles towards him, “boys love me.”

“I’m sure,” he laughs, “you taking her home?” He asks jasmine.

She shakes her head, “no, her boyfriend is on his way for her. I just live over there,” she points towards her apartment complex.

“Make sure she gets home safe,” the big muscle-y man had a big heart, he cared.

“Awe, you’re so nice,” she swoons and goes to hug him, way too drunk.

“Andy,” Jas scolds her and pulls her back over. “Leave the nice man alone, Spencer’s here.”

“Aw man,” her shoulders slump and she starts to cry. “I don’t want to go with him.”

“Pull yourself together,” Jasmine holds her face in her hands and makes her look at her, “you get in his car, he’s going to take you home and put you in your bed and hope to gd your father doesn’t kill him, okay?”

She nods, still crying. “I guess.”

“Is she okay?” Spencer hurries over. “Andy, angel, what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” she waves him away, “just—just, take me home.”

“Okay,” he holds her by the arm and guides her towards his car and into the back seat, he buckles her in and says a quick thank you to Jasmine, “do you want a ride up to your apartment?”

“Oh, thank god,” she gets in the passenger seat, “I didn’t want to walk the hill in heels.”

He thanks the bouncer, ensures the girls are safe with him and then gets back into his car with a sigh. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think she’d get this drunk,” Jasmine apologizes to the both of them.

“I’m just glad she’s safe with you,” he shakes his head and then rubs his face, “Aaron called me, I had an hour to find her and get her home and it’s been 57 minutes…”

“Shit,” she whispers from the backseat, crying harder.

Spencer quickly drops Jasmine off at her apartment and boogies down the road back to Andy’s house, driving faster than she’s ever seen him drive before, truly scared of what her father will do to him if he’s late… which he is.

“Seriously, are you okay?” He asks, looking at her through the rearview mirror.

“I hate secrets,” she mumbles.

“What?”

“Secrets!! They suck!” She leans in closer so he can hear her. “I hate keeping this secret just to have you in my life.”

“It was your idea…”

“Yep. I’m just chock full of bad ideas and terrible secrets.”

“No you aren’t,” he argues.

“You don’t know me…”

“Yes, I do. Nothing you say will scare me away at this point.”

“I LOVE YOU!!! okaY!! Is that what you wanted to hear? Isn’t that just the worst thing you’ve ever heard?”

He looks up into the mirror again, the grin on his face was of pure pride and joy.

“I love you, Spencer Reid. I have loved you since I saw you in that suit with your wonky tie and I’ve been fucking terrified of it ever since! And then!!! Then you went and told me you want to meet my mom…”

He pulls onto her street and then over to the side of the road so he can turn around and look at her. “Are you just drunk or do you really mean that?”

She unclips her seatbelt and dives for him, hands on his cheeks as she kisses him right on the lips. She climbs into the front seat and sits in his lap, squished between him and the steering wheel but she didn’t care. She kisses his cheeks and his nose, all while he giggles and wraps his arms around her middle, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

She nods, not saying anything more, just kissing every inch of exposed skin she can find on his face and neck.

“I’m very much in love with you, too, Andy,” he admits in a soft voice. “But I need to get you home and into bed, and if you feel the same tomorrow, we’ll talk more about it then, okay?”

She nods and gets into the passenger seat instead, she sighs as her head hits the headrest, “fine, take me home.”

It’s only a minute up the road, she gives him the gate code and he rolls right up behind her father's suburban once again.

Aaron meets them in the front hall, “did you do this?”

“Nope,” she places her hand on her father's chest to steady herself while Spencer helps her out of her heels. “Heee just picked me up, cause yoouu cut the night short.”

“I’m sorry it took so long, I had to call her and she wasn’t picking up and then I got Jasmine on the phone and found them,” Spencer hurries his apology out.

“Don’t apologize,” Andy points at Spencer. “You did nothing wrong, baby.”

Spencer's face goes bright red, eyes wide as he stares right at Hotch.

“Dad, Spencer is spending the night, since you made him come get me and he lives sooo far away,” Andy grabs him by his tie and starts pulling him up the stairs. “No sex! I promise, cause we can’t have sex yet anyway, Spence’s not reeeaady…”

Aaron doesn’t even know how to respond, he just watches it happen and lets it. “okay…”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Spencer follows Andy but he keeps his eyes on Hotch, terrified for tomorrow.

Permanent tag list

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#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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badpostureart · 1 year

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It Could Only Ever be Rinharu

Author’s Entry Angle

As of May of 2023, the Makoharu v. Rinharu debate is alive and well, albeit on a much smaller scale than in years prior. I’ve been on team Rinharu for almost a decade now. The earliest I expressed (purely personal) written support for them was back in late October 2014 and my first fanart of them (never shared publicly) was finished in early November of that year. Since then, my writing and art have improved dramatically, but my feelings about Rin and Haru have largely remained the same. Equally, the debate hasn’t changed that much either—at least from those outspoken about their dislike of the other side. Indeed, some variation of the word “toxic” has at one point or another been used to describe both pairings, with fans caricaturing the other side as being overly emotional and/or delusional when faced with content of the pairing they don’t like. It’s honestly quite funny to read!

For me, shipping has been a cheeky exercise in empathy and introspection about relationships more broadly. Rinharu is kind of like a first love. Not only were they the first coupling I would defend with my dying breath, but they were invaluable in contouring my understanding of romantic love in all its absurdities. Undoubtedly, my own experiences (limited as they are) and personality colour my preference, and I’ve spent the last 10 years trying to articulate what I love about these goobers so damn much. What does being a Rinharu truther say about me, if anything at all? I would like to explain my Rinharu-or-bust rationale precisely because this has been such a polarizing debate in the fandom. What is obvious to me is not obvious to others—there would be no debate if that were the case. After all this time, I don’t hate people who ship Makoharu. They have poor taste, of course, but that isn’t worth hating someone over. Heh, just kidding! I’m being an ass on purpose because it’s just so easy!

Being that Free! has recently celebrated its tenth anniversary, I understand that people have had a long time to formulate their opinions and dig their heels in either way. I don’t believe engaging in debate will change people’s minds, and that isn’t what I’m trying to do here anyway. This is purely for fun! Additionally, while I’m still relatively new to posting on social media, I’m pretty sure it’s too late to respond directly to some of the points I mention below. Moreover, I don’t want to impose myself onto other people’s conversations—even though they’re public and some are overtly anti-Rinharu and antagonistic towards its supporters. These folks are ultimately entitled to their wrong opinions.

If you decide to indulge me and give my thoughts a read, I offer these disclaimers: I fully appreciate Makoto’s role in the Free! series more broadly and recognize that he is an important person in Haru’s life. Although I’ve never been a fan of Makoharu, I can appreciate where their supporters are coming from. I’m not writing in bad faith and do not wish to antagonize anyone. Equally, if I say anything you agree with, feel I’ve missed something, or think I’m completely out of line, please don’t be shy in letting me know! I’ve long wanted to engage in this conversation, but largely felt too shy to do so!

On Makoto Being “Boring”

Recently, I read a thread on Twitter where someone expressed indignation at the prospect of someone disliking Makoto for being “too nice.” Even after hearing at some point that people who aren’t his biggest fan find him boring, another commentator concluded that it’s “definitely something else.” What that “something else” could be…I’m not sure either! But I can certainly elaborate on the sentiment that Makoto is a boring character.

I, for one, don’t find him incredibly interesting. It isn’t that he’s “too nice,” but more so that his kindness is among the only characteristics I can think of to describe him. Frankly, I don’t know much about Makoto other than he’s kind, considerate, and supportive of others. His biggest flaws, if you could even call them that, are that he has a hard time being assertive and can be cowardly. He’s a nice guy, and how can you hate a nice guy without looking like a complete monster? By the same token, while I can’t hate him, I don’t feel particularly strong enough to like him that much either. I appreciated how Nao asks Makoto in Starting Days whether he likes swimming or simply that it’s something he can do with Haru because it addressed the problem I, (and likely others), had with Makoto’s character: Who is Makoto if Haru isn’t there? Aside from Haru, what does he like? What does he want to do purely for himself? By the movie’s end, I didn’t learn anything new about Makoto. He at least made peace with confirming that although he does like swimming in and of itself, he likes it better when it’s something he can do with his best friend. While completely unoffensive, it’s nothing to get excited about either.

On “Codependency” and “Toxicity”

Based on what we’ve covered so far, is it fair to say Makoto is overly dependent on Haru? Perhaps in some ways, but not to the degree of a complex. Growing up is hard, and being apart from someone you’ve spent virtually your whole life with is quite the adjustment to make. A better example of codependency would be Hiyori and Ikuya, with the former isolating the latter in order to hoard him privately to himself. (But that’s a story for another day).

On the flip side, Rinharu has been called toxic, presumably because they fight and have said hurtful things to each other. Oftentimes, these instances are the result of miscommunications, and while I wish they would be more honest with each other from the outset, they deserve grace too. Being vulnerable is not an easy thing to do—especially concerning someone one has strong feelings for. It may seem easier to push someone away or refuse to let them in to preserve a sense of pride or to protect oneself from the possibility of being hurt all over again. But for all the fighting Rin and Haru do, they have always reconciled and been able to express what having the other in their life means to them. They wouldn’t be able to affect each other as much as they have if they didn’t really care about each other, hm?

On Canonical Material

With translations of the FS Fanbook underway, some folks have suggested that being an “irreplaceable existence” is more significant than “destined to swim together,” but this depends entirely on how each statement is interpreted. Being that Makoto and Haru have known each other for basically their entire lives, you’d be hard-pressed to find someone who could possibly know either of them better. They were firsthand witnesses to how the other grew up over the years because they did it together. Indeed, this relationship should in no way be underestimated or thought of as dispensable. Still, being a “destined pair” suggests to me that Rin and Haru’s connection is bigger than either one of them. Put another way, it is as if the universe itself declared that the two were on a crash course to meet and would ultimately share a future together. Now, depending on whether you see swimming as just a sport/shared interest or whether you believe, (like I do), that it’s an intrinsic part of who they are and how they express themselves and love toward others, then the implications of the statement “destined to swim together” are decidedly quite different.

I’ve never felt like Makoto and Haru were anything more than best friends. Between running the same “drop the chan already” routine and essentially being able to read each other’s minds, their relationship has settled into something undoubtedly solid. It’s clear that they understand each other very well and have an unspoken agreement to always support each other. If romantic love were a matter of practicality, Makoto would perhaps be the most reasonable candidate for Haru. It’s a safe choice. But the laws of attraction don’t adhere to whatever is most rational—it isn’t a matter of who knows you the best, has known you the longest, or fights with you the least. It’s about who moves you and makes you feel something. I don’t wish for Haru to make choices just because they’re familiar and easy or out of fear of possibility.

Likewise, Rin is special to Haru in a way different from any of his other friends—something that is acknowledged and talked about by other characters throughout the series. Nagisa remarks in season one that “Haru-chan says he doesn’t care about his times or winning races, but he’s motivated when he’s racing Rin-chan.” Why is that? What is it about Rin in particular that motivates Haru in a way no one else does? Even when they first met, Haru knew immediately that the other boy was going to be a prominent character in his life whether he wanted him to be or not. He tries to get ahead of it, even run away from it, but he decides instead to be brave and open up enough to let Rin, in all his fleeting glory, nestle inside his bones. We’re treated to Haru’s entire emotional range where Rin is concerned. (Frankly, he was the first person I think Haru allowed himself to be vulnerable with by agreeing to join the medley in elementary school). Despite only being in the same class for a couple of months, Rin left a deep and lasting impression on Haru to the point where he thinks about the other boy well into high school. Hell, feeling as though he hurt Rin caused Haru to quit (and later come back to) the sport he loves most. For someone who goes out of their way to avoid participating in, well, life, Rin sure does a hell of a job in moving Haru to actively engage with what goes on around him. In season two, Nagisa knowingly asks Makoto why he wanted to compete against Haru in the prefecturals. Makoto can’t give a definite answer, but says, “Maybe I was jealous of Rin.” If the audience were to understand Rin simply as Haru’s swimming rival and nothing more, Makoto’s words are incomprehensible. It isn’t just a rivalry with Haru that Rin has, but a mutual, intimate connection over the sport. In other words, Makoto’s feelings towards Haru are not reciprocated—and he knows it.

Indeed, while Makoto feels swimming is meaningless without Haru, Haru finds the greatest purpose in swimming with Rin. With Rin missing from his life, Haru was prepared to resign to being ordinary. In being able to swim together, he wants to be and experience more. And this isn’t necessarily to say that Makoto and Haru would have an unhappy life together, just that Rin offers Haru something no one else can—namely beautiful sights to be shared. Whereas Makoto has expressed the desire to be a part of Haru’s life no matter what he decides to do, Rin proposes to Haru that they share a life and a dream together. Haru can always be certain that Makoto will be there for him, but seeing all he and Rin can be is realized only if they move forward together. I think it goes without saying how much Rin adores Haru, what with him talking virtually everyone else’s ears off about him. Kisumi didn’t even swim, but he knew who Haru was because Rin (apparently) told all of his buddies at Sano about the guy with the “cool attitude and eyes clear as water.” The guy thinks of Haru in prose for god’s sake!

Rin and Haru’s relationship has undoubtedly gone through growing pains, but they’re getting better at communicating and being completely honest with each other (and, frankly, themselves). I admire their relationship because it’s so god damn dynamic—it’s playful, adorable, rife with tension, beautiful, devastating, frustrating, complicated, and innate all at once. Perhaps precisely because Makoto lacks dynamism I find the prospect of a romantic relationship between him and Haru to be, well…boring. It's not that their connection is non-existent or some flavour of the word toxic—they have a wonderful friendship—but I don’t get the sense that it will change much, let alone develop into anything more in the future. From my perspective, as soon as Rin entered the picture any chance for a romance between Makoto and Haru was soundly squashed. There was simply no going back to the ordinary time before Rin Matsuoka “coincidentally” ended up at Iwatobi Elementary School.

#rinharu #free iwatobi swim club #rin matsuoka #haruka nanase #makoto tachibana #why i ship rinharu #badposture tumbles

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velvetcloxds · 4 months

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kind of sad that as a species we still haven’t grasped the concept of not attacking someone for believing in something we don’t believe in as well, you don’t have to agree or like it or respect it but if it’s not something harmful and it’s not something a single sentence can change then the least you can do is keep quiet and move on. and if you must say something, say it somewhere else, express your beliefs or thinking instead, you can in fact do so without directly tearing down someone else as a person. also how one person does not represent a whole religion, race, gender identity, culture etc- someone doesn’t earn the right to your hate because of what a member of a specific social group did or said or thought.

it’s interesting how social media has increased the desire for everyone to be the same and think and feel the same. a sort of self entitlement where everyone encourages freedom of expression and individualism unless their specific individual beliefs or expression or value system differs from yours in which case you’re torn down for having the audacity not to conform. it’s this big juxtaposition of being motivated to be your own person while still being expected to comply with the set norms bled from a need to satisfy or submit to whoever or whatever has the biggest platform or collective. this sort of me, myself and i concept is ruling our minds to the point where we fully expect everyone to serve our needs and beliefs instead of allowing them to think for themselves.

i think this joke was funny and since it’s about a religion i’m not part of i don’t care if it’s considered blasphemy. i think my need to satisfy my desires outweighs the possibility that maybe some people don’t want there to be soft porn in every piece of media. i’ve never had to endure the bullying of someone trying to lose weight so why should i be sensitive to making jokes about people who have. i’ve never had this struggle that a group of people is experiencing still so why should i even think about it let alone feel sympathy for them. i’ve always had everything so why should i consider how promoting wasting food or money is insensitive. etc etc.

our consistent obsession with self satisfaction has made empathy and tolerance a rarity.

#monique rants #the way social media has shifted just from 2020 to now is alarming #tiktok especially #when did self expression and self entitlement become the same word #tw rant

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audhdnight · 6 months

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Okay I can’t sleep because I have a Snape rant brewing so I’m just gonna get it out.

(Obligatory disclaimer: I fucking hate JKR. I’m not talking about this out of any love for her or her work, I’m talking about it because people still genuinely think Snape is “morally gray” or “misunderstood” and I can NOT take it)

I know we all have soft spots for the bad guys with tragic backstories but what I can’t get over is that snape’s backstory isn’t even tragic??? It’s not a tale of lost love, like, even a little bit. He didn’t lose Lilly to James because he and James were never competing for her, at least not from her point of view. We have absolutely no indication in the text that Lilly ever saw Snape as a romantic prospect at all. They were childhood friends, that’s it. It’s the “nice guy” incel bullshit all over again. Snape thought he had a right to her affection, thought that the only reason she didn’t love him was because James somehow took that love away, and that is just not how any of this works. He was not entitled to Lilly’s love, ESPECIALLY not when he was a literal wizard N@zi.

Say we have a little white boy and a little black girl. This boy is raised in an extremely racist household, but still becomes friends with the girl because he comes to see her as a person. This makes her the exception, because he knows that black girls aren’t really people. Then these two kids get older and go to school, and while there, instead of realizing that black people are in fact people, the boy digs even more into the racism he was taught. He even joins the junior kkk group at their school! He actively conspires to commit hate crimes, and this continues until he is more than old enough to realize it is wrong. He still sees the girl as the exception to the rule though, by virtue of the fact that she is associated with him. She is his, and that is what makes her different from all the other black kids. The girl hates what she sees in her best friend, but she holds out hope that he could change, despite all her friends constantly reminding her that he’s bad news and he’ll never change. Then one day they fight, he calls her a slur, and she realizes it’s time to let him go. He’s just a racist, and that’s that.

Then, after they leave school, the guy graduates from junior kkk to regular kkk, where he routinely commits hate crimes along with a bunch of other horrible racist dudes. He tries to make sure the girl won’t be targeted, not because she’s a person who deserves to live, but because he still sees her as the one that got away. He still thinks he deserves to have her, and he doesn’t care if her husband and child die, so long as she’s left alive afterward for him to have. Then she dies anyway, and he vows revenge on the members of his little group that did it. He leaves the kkk, not because he has realized that it is wrong, but because they destroyed something of his and so they have to pay.

People act like snape switching sides was a nod to his shifting moralities, like that’s what makes him “actually kind of a good guy, when you really think about it”. He didn’t leave the death eaters because he disagreed with their mission, he left because he wanted revenge for the hurt they caused him. If any of his anger had actually been about Lilly, he would have done everything in his power to take care of Harry once he came to Hogwarts (and no, keeping him barely alive out of a duty to Dumbledore while actively participating in Harry’s abuse in regular day-to-day life does NOT count as taking care of him).

Even if we completely disregard all of the shit with Lilly and the marauders, if we look at snape through the lens of a regular teacher, he’s still a horrible person. He abuses his students for gods sake! That is not and will never be “morally gray”. He is a child abuser, period. He is evil.

People also like to say that his patronus shifting to be the same as Lilly’s is somehow proof that he really loved her, and I just don’t see how that argument can even seriously be made. It proves he wants her, it proves he’s still hung up on her, sure. But you don’t need to love someone or something to just really want them. Honestly, it always seemed to me that it was a sign he was still obsessed with her, still hanging onto his bitterness at “losing” to James. He’s just a pathetic man still living his highschool rivalries through a child who has done nothing to him and didn’t ask to be part of this ridiculous “feud”.

Snape isn’t a case of moral ambiguity. He isn’t a case of a tragically misunderstood antihero. He isn’t a case of “doing the right things for the wrong reasons”. He doesn’t even do the right things at all. Snape is a bad person, plain and simple. He’s not someone you should sympathize with or make excuses for just because “but he really misses the girl he had a crush on in school 🥺”.

In conclusion: Snape didn’t love Lilly, he though he owned her. He is not morally gray in any sense of the term.

I also have SO much I could say about fucking Dumbledore and how telling it is that JKR genuinely tried to present him as a good person (also snape too in that regard) but that’s a whole other post.

#fuck jkr #anti jkr #tw child abuse mention #tw racism

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whatnotmemes · 2 years

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-------------------BO BURNHAM’S INSIDE OUTTAKES SENTENCE STARTERS change as needed. language, adult content, mentions of mental illness.

“I’m going a little crazy.” “I don’t have a kid. I crochet instead.” “I’ll bother getting better when I bother getting dressed.” ”I’m living in the future.” “Am I kinda hot?” “I’m just hoping I can write or film something soon that’s usable, or I’m just gonna stop and play PlayStation.” “Is this fucking doing anything?” “Is this looking cool or just fucking stupid?” “I’m a stupid little bitch!” “I just wanna feel good.” “I’m not even close to kidding.” “I wanna know when Dippin’ Dots is going to condemn child sex trafficking.” “Maybe I’ll feel better when I got to bed.” “I wrote a joke. Wanna hear it?” “If your least favorite word is ‘moist’ and you tell people that, I hate you.” “My least favorite word, by the way, is ‘injustice.’” “I wrote a song for you.” “You’re an adult. You can figure it out.” “You think I am the worst.” “Why would you assume that you’re entitled to a dumpling?” “I don’t wanna fight so let’s just drop this- it’s not a big deal.” “You owe me a dumpling or a dumpling equivalent.” “Um no, fuck that.” “Your whole worldview collapses the moment there’s a spider.” “I get it, this is the real you. It’s a pleasure. Nice to meet you.” “Shit like this brings the movement down.” “Everyone’s a feminist until there is a spider around.” “Our culture has been taken over by a radical group of SJW feminist freaks.” “Now we’re fucking talking.” “Offer yourself by being yourself. And if that doesn’t work, be somebody else.” “Who you are on a fundamental, sort of unchangeable level, may just be uninteresting.” “How is the best case scenario Joe Biden?” “Soon after I posted my first couple videos, they went viral.” “There’s a lot of material that I’m just really embarrassed by and makes me cringe for a lot of reasons.” “I often wish that I could just, you know, start over.” “Fuck you, dude. Fuck you, alright?” “I ain’t afraid of no spider.” “It’s very upsetting that the future is in front of now, do you know what I mean? Like that we have to keep living from now onward.” “This isn’t a joke, so don’t joke about it.” “I don’t wanna talk about it.” “I’m doing fine. Twenty-nine, in my prime.” “I am a weird looking dude.” “You’re supposed to see the top of your head when you come out of your mother’s pussy, but you saw my face. I came out face first.” “Other days, like today, I just feel like I’m completely spinning my wheels and wasting my time.” “I’ve been eating these things for basically every meal for the past six months.” “I’m using a paper plate. I know they’re bad for the environment but I’d rather put a gun in my mouth than do another dish.” “We could and would and should have done better.” “Our doing isn’t done and our done-ing isn’t did, okay? So know that.” “We are living in a golden age of content.” “Time is still, you know, passing.” “It’s only a problem when you go outside.” “I’m done being sad.” “Am I going crazy? Maybe, maybe not.” “Pray for us.” “The more I wait for it, the more shitty I feel and look.” “I realized the only way this thing is going to stop is if I stop doing it, so I’m going to stop.” “She likes her life as a mother and wife, but is that all she is?” “Her future is waiting right there for the taking.” “The chicken must first cross the road.” “I’m an adult man in a baseball hat.” “I don’t know what’s happening.” “What the fuck is going on?”

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everythingpresley · 2 years

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Don't You Kiss Me Once or Twice - Chapter 6

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Jessica Anderson is Elvis Presley's assistant and after months of working together, slowly something sparks between them. Friendship? Or is it more? [ Fem!Reader ]

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+), Slowburn

|| Word Count: 3,116

A/N: Please let me know what you guys think of this chapter! I'm really proud of it and would love to hear your feedback!

Masterlist

Don't You Kiss Me Once or Twice - Chapter 6

We had one week before we were due to go on tour so I decided to go visit my parents and siblings. My parents constantly complained that I didn’t visit them enough and I really did miss them but sometimes I hated whenever I was there they had to bring up money and Ella’s tuition, asking me to let Elvis pay for her tuition instead saying he had the money, also saying that he has a lot of money that he doesn't need and that infuriated me. No one is entitled to talk about people’s earnings, Elvis worked very hard and continues to kill himself for his fans and his career.

I had to divert my career and plans to pay for my sister’s tuition, I had a plan of moving to New York when I saved up enough. I planned to start working in one of the big 4 auditing companies and work my way up to being a partner.

Working for Elvis allowed me to save almost my entire salary for Ella since I get the benefits of living rent free at Graceland and not having to pay for the necessities.

“I’m reapplying for a scholarship and now since my grades are way up, I’m hoping I’ll get it but I have to wait till the next semester.” Ella said, shuttling around the pasta in her plate as she sat opposite of me.

I smiled softly “That’s great Ella.” I shoveled pasta into my mouth “But please don’t put a lot of pressure on yourself just for the scholarship.” I know the anxiety that comes with grades and getting a certain GPA. I hated it. I even considered completing my masters but after I was done with my bachelors, I changed my mind.

“I know Jessie.” She grinned at me. I could tell she feels guilty.

“How’s Mr. Presley?” Jack asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Goood. Why?” I asked, looking at him suspiciously.

“Nothing.�� Jack chuckled.

“Jaaack, what?” I asked, shoving him from where he sat next to me.

“No shoving each other at the dinner table!” Mom said.

“Nothing! It’s just I get this weird energy from you and him whenever I’ve seen you guys together.” Jack replied.

I furrowed my eyebrows “What weird energy?”

“Ignore your brother, he just wants to rile you up.” Dad replied.

Jack chose to shove me back, tipping my chair almost sending me flying to the floor if I didn’t grab onto the table.

“Asshole.” I mouthed to him. He stuck his tongue out at me and continued eating his dinner.

“Wow. I’m way mature than both of my older siblings.” Ella said with a huge grin on her face. Jack and I stuck our tongues out at her making her giggle.

Even though it had been a week since I left, I really missed Graceland and everyone. However, I was slightly dreading going on tour in three days. Those were the most hectic, tiring days and we never get to actually see the cities. Joe had picked me up from the airport, going through the gates of Graceland I spotted Elvis and a bunch of kids probably some of the Mafia’s kids on the golf cart.

“Jess! Look at this flower!” One of the girls, Sofia said running up to me.

I gasped and bent down to her height “Wow, that’s beautiful! Just like you.” I grinned at her “Do you want me to put it in your hair?” I asked her.

She nodded excitedly “And you can put this one in your hair so that we can be matching!” She jumped up and down. I laughed and took the flower from her hand to put it in my hair.

The cart zipped by us, driven by Elvis.

“Slow down!” I yelled. He loved scaring the kids and all of them were yelling happily.

“Jessica!” Elvis yelled back, slowing down and returning to where I was standing “You’re back! The Colonel was really aggravating me.”

I laughed because I knew the Colonel hated doing what I did, he didn’t like to get bossed around plus he knew I could get Elvis to finish his work. Like signing posters, going through his mail with him, making sure he makes his appointments etc. I was also in charge of booking everything such as hotel rooms and transportation.

“Good. So that you don’t take me for granted.” I grinned.

“Get in!” He nodded his head back.

“There’s no room. I have to go unpack anyway.”

“There’s plenty of room.” Elvis grinned mischievously.

He had parked the cart so close that he was able to swoop his arm around my waist and tug me onto his lap.

I gasped “Elvis!”

Elvis laughed at my flustered face “Get comfortable doll.” He said and sped off. He placed his chin over my shoulder to be able to see. He was so close, my back was touching his chest and I could smell the woodsiness of his shampoo and scent. He smelt amazing.

I was so uncomfortable, not knowing how to sit. I was scared to be too heavy on his lap, I kept shifting back and forth.

He released on of his hands from the steering wheel and wrapped his arm around my waist, tightening his arm. “Stop movin’ around doll, I’m about to crash the damn thing.” He whispered in my ear, his hot breath caused the hairs behind my neck to stand up. My cheeks flushed when I felt his bulge poke my ass.

I cleared my throat.

Elvis chose to speed over a little hump on the grass, making us all jerk up and land down hard. The kids all shouted as if they were on a roller coaster while Elvis groaned when I slammed down on him.

I laughed “You had that coming.”

“Evil.” He replied, parking up by the stairs that led to the house. I quickly jumped out of his lap, grabbing my suitcase that I abandoned by the stairs and rushed into the house.

Janice and I were supposed to hang out before we leave for tour. We decided to go line dancing and drinking at a honkytonk bar. I threw on a short, flowy sundress with an open back and red cowboy boots and a white cowboy hat. I was about to leave when the phone rang and a drowsy sounding Janice spoke letting me know that she wasn’t feeling well. She had a stomach bug and thought it would go away but it hadn’t. I offered to go over and see her to make sure she was okay but she didn’t want me to catch anything especially since I had to be on the road in a few days.

Instead of feeling down that I won’t get to see Janice for a while, I went outside to go see the horses and pretend that I’m actually a cowgirl. I leaned against the wooden fence, pouting slightly that I didn’t know how to ride a horse. I had my hat in my hands looking out at the horses trotting around.

I spotted Elvis walking out of the stables, he smiled once he noticed me “Well isn’t that the saddest little cowgirl I’ve ever seen.”

I smiled when he came and leaned on the fence next to me.

“What is this getup?” He asked.

“Janice and I were supposed to go line dancing but she’s sick.” I replied.

“Is that why you’re pouting?” He chuckled.

“That and also I wanna learn how to ride a horse.”

“Never picked you to be a horse girl. Miss California.”

“Oh if it were up to me I would be a cowgirl with my trusty steed and a cowboy husband.” I replied.

Elvis chuckled and shook his head.

The sun was setting and the sky was transformed into a warm orange tinge. I turned and looked at Elvis, he really was the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen and the orange sun illuminating his face made his blue eyes brighter and clearer. He felt me staring at him and turned to look at me, I didn’t bother looking away because I had already been caught. He smiled at me and poked my cheek, turning my face away from him. I did notice a slight flush to his cheeks. I grinned and went back to looking at the horses.

“I can take you.” He said, his voice barely a whisper.

“Where?”

“Line dancing.” He replied. His eyes strained on the horses, not turning to look at me.

“Really?” I asked excitedly.

He nodded and shrugged.

“One problem.” I pointed.

“What?”

“You’re forgetting who you are.” He was Elvis Presley for crying out loud, there’s bound to be someone who will recognize him. And I honestly didn’t want to have to see my face plastered on magazines and newspapers.

“It’s fine. I’ll wear a disguise.”

“Like a fake mustache and glasses?” I chuckled.

“No.” He grumbled “I’ll change and then we can go.”

I stayed by the stables when I heard Elvis’ shoes shuffle on the sand. I turned and grinned when I saw him decked out in a black cowboy hat, black cowboy boots, a chunky belt, black jeans and a black jean jacket with a white button down shirt underneath. Fuck. He looked so hot in all black. He also had a red bandana wrapped around his neck as a little scarf.

“You need to lose the rings.” I pointed out when he got closer.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I’m not taking them off Jess. Let’s go.”

“You need to dress down and look like us peasants.”

“Fine.” He stepped forward, getting very close to my face “I got you this, to go with your red boots.” He said and pulled a red identical bandana that he had wrapped around his neck from his pockets.

“Lift your hair up.” He said.

I listened and wrapped up my hair, placing my hat that was in my hand on the ground. He reached over and wrapped the red bandana around my neck “There, we’re matching now.” He whispered, his hot breath hitting my cheeks. Then he bent down, picked up my cowboy hat from the ground and placed it on my head “We can live your fantasy of being a cowgirl with a handsome cowboy husband for the day.”

“I never said he was handsome.” I smiled softly at him because how cute was he being right now.

“I’m just filling in the blanks doll.” He grinned.

Taking Elvis’ old truck we headed to the bar, the sun nowhere to be seen and the moon shone brightly instead. Hopefully by now people were drunk and no one would recognize Elvis. This oddly felt like a date. Us being alone without the mafia around was very weird. Elvis placed a hand on the small of my back to lead me into the bar. I felt tingles shoot up my spine the moment his hand came in contact with my bare back and took a deep breath.

“They have a mechanical bull?” Elvis asked, dipping his head close to my ear.

I grinned and nodded. I loved getting on that bull, it was so much fun. The bar was huge, the bull was placed on the side and a big dance floor was in the middle. It was already jam packed with people, some were already on the dance floor and some were standing around watching people fall off the bull.

Heading to the bar to order drinks, we both chose to get beer.

“Hey man, has anyone ever told you that you look like Elvis Presley?” The bartender asked.

“Yes, he gets that all the time.” I said and threw an arm around Elvis’ shoulder “Isn’t that right honey?”

He turned towards me and grinned at the nickname “That’s right sweetie.”

“Jess?” A voice rang from behind us. Elvis and I both turned to find a guy with shaggy light brown hair.

“Colt?” I grinned. He grinned back at me and nodded.

“Hi!” I said and slipped my arm from Elvis to hug him.

“Janice not here with you today?” Colt asked after I pulled away from the hug.

“No, she’s not feeling well.”

“Who’s your friend baby?” Elvis asked, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, tugging me back to him.

“Oh this is Colt, he’s a regular here.” I said “Colt this is …. Aaron. Aaron, Colt.” I introduced.

“Hi I’m Jess’ boyfriend.” Elvis said causing my to start beating rapidly. Why did him saying he’s my boyfriend get me excited in a weird way?

Colt smiled “You look cute together.”

I smiled as I felt Elvis removed my hat, bend his head down and planted a soft kiss on the top of my head before placing my hat back on my head. Oh what is he doing to me right now. My cheeks and neck were on fire.

Should I tell Elvis that Colt was gay and that he was openly checking him out as we speak?

We got our drinks and headed over to the mechanical bull to watch people.

“Go on!” I nudged Elvis who shook his head no “Why?”

“I’ll go on if you go on.” He replied.

“Okay fine. I’ll go. Hold my beer.” I handed him my beer and got on.

I jumped on the bull, huffing slightly since I had to jump a few times to get on. I spotted Elvis laughing at my attempts to get on. I adjusted my dress, pulling it down but I knew I would flash everyone once I fall off. Thank god I decided to wear little biker shorts underneath.

“Let’s go Jess!” Elvis whooped from the side lines.

The operator started it slow at first but slowly he increased the speed. I held on tightly as he jerked the bull up and down.

Unbeknownst to Jess, seeing her riding the bull made Elvis’ jaw tighten and his cock twitch.

I laughed when I flew off the bull and landed on the inflatable ground. I got up and jumped off.

“You did great! You lasted longer than half the guys in here!” Elvis grinned.

Elvis went next, he looked really cute while focusing so hard on trying not to fall off but he ended up falling off pretty quickly.

“Again!” Elvis’ competitive side jumped out.

“Sorry man other people are waiting” The operator replied.

He grumbled and stomped off. I laughed at his child like behavior “Sore loser.”

“We’ll have a rematch later.” He replied taking his drink from my hand.

Shania Twain’s “Man! I feel like a woman” blasted through the speakers of the bar.

“I love this song!” I jumped up and down.

“You’re gonna spill everywhere!” Elvis pointed at my drink.

“Best thing about being a woman! Is the prerogative to have a little fun and!” I shout/sang, singing directly to Elvis, swaying and shaking my shoulders. He looked at me with a goofy smile on his face, sipping his drink while leaning on the table next to us.

“Cowboys and Cowgirls please line up on the dance floor!” The speaker announced.

I grinned placing my drink on the table, Elvis doing the same. I then grabbed his hand and pulled him to the dance floor.

“I don’t know how to do this!” Elvis yelled over the music. It was packed so we were stuck to each other’s sides.

“It’s okay, just keep your eyes on me. I’ll tell you what to do.” I replied.

“You’re actually good at this! How many times have you done this?”

“More times than I can count.” I laughed.

At one of the steps we had to move right but Elvis moved left, slamming into me and sending me to the ground but he quickly pulled my arm and straightened me out.

“I’m so sorry!” He laughed. I was also giggling along with him and shook my head.

I ended up drinking a little more but Elvis was driving so he didn’t drink along. We were both giggling and dancing to the music.

“I haven’t had this much fun in so long!” Elvis said over the music “I feel like a kid again.”

“I’m glad you’re having fun Elvis.” I smiled softly, my heart aching for him. I know he loves being in the spotlight and he adores his fans but at the same time I knew he wanted a sense of normalcy in his life.

“My cowgirl.” Elvis grinned, opening the car door for me. I got an overwhelming feeling to just reach over and kiss him. Shaking off that feeling, I smiled and ducked into the car.

Getting out of the truck, Elvis threw an arm around my shoulders while I wrapped my arm around his waist. We were talking about when Elvis was a kid and how he loved listening to gospel music, I was learning a lot about his childhood during the drive from the bar to the house.

The house was very silent, we walked in and plopped down on the couch still talking about anything and everything. It was so easy talking to him.

“Thank you for taking me Elvis.” I smiled “I really, really had fun.”

He turned his face towards me and smiled back softly “You don’t have to thank me. I have to thank you, ‘cause I had so much fun.”

We stared at each other silently, his eyes drifting down to my lips. I wanted him to kiss me so bad this time.

“Are you drunk?” He asked, somewhat out of breath.

“What? No. Maybe a little tipsy but I’m not drunk.” I replied, really confused.

Was I acting drunk?

“Good.” He replied biting his lip and reached his hand, running his thumb over my lips “You have something on your lips.” He smirked faintly.

“What?” I asked. I held my breath, not knowing how to react.

“My lips.” He replied, crashing his lips onto mine.

My eyes widened, I was frozen on the couch. I was able to react quickly when he started to pull away. I place my hands on the lapels of his jacket and pulled him back, kissing him. He grinned against my lips and placed a hand on my waist, while the other cupped my cheek, drawing me closer to him, almost desperately.

Fuck. His lips were just as soft as I imagined. Holy hell. My chest was heaving. A small gasp escaped my lips when he bit my lower lip, allowing him access. His tongue was warm and persistent against mine.

Any common sense I had was out the window. This was wrong but it felt oh so good.

Months of burning intensity that has been building between us just exploded.

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