#can you tell i had these images saved already

[your-fav-is-divorced]

misato and ritsuko from evangelion are divorced......

MISATO KATSURAGI and RITSUKO AKAGI are DIVORCED!!

#im so normal about them #and this show #can you tell i had these images saved already #nge #nge misato #nge ritsuko #misato katsuragi #neon genesis evangelion #evangalion #ritsuko akagi #divorce #your fav is divorced #your fave is #divorceposting

[literalgrill]

Do NOT Support Hard Drive On Patreon

You might see friends today suggesting you support Hard Drive on Patreon today. You know, the funny video games version of The Onion? As a journalist, I will firmly tell you DO NOT GIVE THEM A DIME.

The CEO has pushed out all former staff that have built the site up to its current greatness and has been pushing the use of AI. The staff begged to have a Patreon before basically all being pushed out, but the idea was refused until now, when it will only line the pockets of a single person instead of hard working writers.

I know they might have provided laughs before, but Hard Drive is a shell of what it was once. Let it die and support the people who actually made those moments of joy possible. Don't believe me? Check out what former employees are saying below:

Kevin Podas: Okay you know what, I would feel bad saying nothing about this, so here goes:🚨SAVE YOUR MONEY🚨

We passionately advocated for a Patreon at Hard Drive & were aggressively shot down. The talent & people who built the site were pushed out. To see this now is beyond upsetting. For the past few years or so I put a lot of myself into this website. I pitched a ton of jokes, got over 120 articles published, & met a lot of great people. I'm sure if you've been following me for some time you could easily see this.

However, there is a lot of misinformation. I was eventually promoted to Managing Editor of the site & was ecstatic. Grateful for the opportunity. Felt like all of my hard work in the comedy mines was finally paying off. But things took a turn for the worst, & each day there were new surprises that affected our livelihoods. These were all very avoidable surprises, mind you.

A patreon was going to be our hail mary, but alas, for some reason, the power that be did not want it. Causing us to leave a dream job behind. "At least we did all we could," we consoled ourselves afterwards. I put a lot of myself into this project. I pitched all sorts of ideas that could have helped-- we all did. Merch collaborations, Patreon-integrated YouTube content, so much more. And most of them were shot down out of sheer stubbornness and nothing more. To see lie after lie spread, and multiple big publications and YouTubers that I am a fan of promote this Patreon under these pretenses is incredibly upsetting. There are so many receipts.

Please share this and consider pulling out if you've already put money into this. On Hard Drive using AI, also from Kevin Podas: I can't personally confirm that part aside from some of the recent header images for articles on both Hard Drive and Hard Times are being made with AI. As far as writing, it's been mentioned in the past, but I personally do not know. Maybe others do, maybe not. MORE From Kevin Podas suggesting the owner denying a Patreon being set up earlier cost an artist a job that was replaced by AI: We had a social media person who was awesome! He made the images until this AI implementation. He had to leave because ad revenue was low and a Patreon was aggressively refused.

Luca Fisher: at the risk of burning some bridges, i have to back up kevin here. i've only been part-time, in-and-out of hard drive since i got in last year, but i can corroborate that management doubled and tripled down about not hosting a patreon/crowdfunding and that many other suggestions and ideas, including mine (and ones much smarter than mine!), were shot down in really long, apocalyptic threads of everyone left on deck desperately trying to come up with ways to keep the lights on. managerially it has been messy and sad

i've written for multiple publications that have long since died, ones that were in the process of dying, and ones that, in this case, are soon to be put in the ground. it is sad and sucks every time. i don't know what could have been done differently, but i do know that a lot of great writers and content creators were left shorthanded and unhappy by the way things have gone. and it is sort of puzzling to see the sudden championing of patreon after we were all told plenty of times that it couldn't work and we should move on also, just to add my own personal two cents here, i was really disappointed by the shuttering of many different article sections on the site over the past 6-8 months. i understand cutting corners in a deficit, and i know it had to be done. that said…

all in all, i'm really sad to see this all happen. i don't fault anyone, if only because i don't really know enough about how this all can happen to make sense of it. games journalism is in a sad, sorry state, and will likely no longer be a thing in the next decade

VideoSealMan: I'm gonna say this because I think I deserve to. For months, MONTHS on end I was bugging Hard Drive management about a Patreon. Often I got ignored for a week+, but when I actually got a response I was encouraged to - of all things, write up a Google Doc pitching the concept I did it regardless. I wasn't the only one trying to sway management on a Patreon, but so fiercely was I fighting for it that last night, I was accused of making this comment directly by the CEO! With no evidence whatsoever! After I'd been gone for over a month.

I vouched so hard for Patreon because I wanted all the writers and creatives working with Hard Drive including myself to get paid better. When I actually got a response, the idea was often shut down. Eventually due to the state of my company, my pay was cut for a second time I confronted management alongside a couple other important figureheads at the org and told them that if we couldn't do a Patreon - I could no longer financially justify staying there. The answer was still no, so I left. Baffled at the decision, but whatever.

It is unendingly frustrating to know that myself and many other people who put their soul into Hard Drive LEFT because of management's absolute refusal to compromise on a Patreon, to then see them launch one anyway a month later and get over 1000 people pledging money. I'm seeing a lot of things float around about greed and people being fired. No one was fired. Everyone who left, left because they were sick of management's decision-making. And honestly, management is a lot of things but I would not call them greedy. (From my experience.) They did genuinely make an effort to pay people as much as possible. I found the pay very fair for a while. I am not disputing that I was paid what I was owed - yet management frequently feels the need to remind critics of that. Lmao, yes. I was paid what I was owed. No one is disputing payment. You did the bare minimum a business owner should do and paid everyone their due, very well done. I make no allegations of greed, cheating or foul play. I make allegations of poor management and incompetence that has fucked over other people.

Basically the only people left at Hard Drive have been there for about 2 months. They will reap the rewards of this successful Patreon I and so many others passionately fought for for so long. We will not see a dime.

I do not know the new people at Hard Drive, But I feel bad for them. They were haphazardly thrust into Hard Drive's workplace with little to no explanation on how anything works, or given any context on the state of the place. Even now managements feeds them half-truths and misinformation about other people's grievances. I am broke and have been for a while. I had to move out of my flat in Reading and back with my family because of how little money I was making. This has basically doomed my flatmate to moving back in with abusive parents, which is something I feel guilty about every day. If we had gone with the Patreon I worked myself hoarse over back then, this could have been avoided. Some of my other good pals could also not have been fucked over.

It was a bad judgment call, but it's not a crime. It's just management getting it wrong.

So should you give to the Hard Drive Patreon? I don't know! I don't think any of the new people working there to patch up the holes left by the recent mass exodus have any bad intentions. Maybe they deserve it! But it is not the same site you knew a year ago, or even a month ago. Myself and many people who were there far longer than me and did far more for it than I did are all gone now because we could not deal with management's terrible decision-making and dogass communication any longer. That's what you should know, imo

I had an agreement in place with management that I would receive the next 8 months of revenue from the Hard Drive YT channel from my leaving in November. This was a deal I appreciated, and thought was very fair on management's behalf. So far, the deal has been honoured for 2 months. However as of last night I was removed from the Hard Drive Slack without warning, and as an editor for the YouTube channel. This means I no longer have any way of verifying how much I am owed, I just have to take their word for it. I'm sure management will make their own statements full of half-truths and weird language on the many cases being brought against them - I'd take everything they say with a pinch of salt if some of the screenshots I've seen of them talking about me are any indication lol

To management; I do not want to talk to you. I want you to DM me a screenshot of how much I'm owed every month and then send me the money per our agreement until June, then we can go our separate ways. Do that and admit to your mistakes, and maybe you can recover your reputation! That's it from me, lol. If they pull out of the deal and fuck me over I'll have more to say, but most of what I know is other people's stories of incompetence and poor decision-making, lol. I genuinely get no pleasure out of doing this; I do not think management is evil - I just think they're really bad at what they do and it's cost other, more talented people, lol. You should believe the writers imo

One last thing I wanna say btw, management did often stress that no one should try to make Hard Drive a full time thing. They were transparent about that, and that is fair. I was working on it because at a few points, I was lead to believe we actually were doing a Patreon. Many other ppl have similar stories of being strung along by management changing their minds and stop-starting shit every 2 weeks. We all made the fatal mistake of overestimating our manager - who would tell you one thing one day and something totally opposite the next week lol

Hunter R. Thompson:

I'm not your dad, but speaking as a Hard Drive writer, I don't know that funding Hard Drive on Patreon is worth it

The driving talent on the back end—behind the kickass site I joined in 2019—have peaced out over the years as the site's been (in our view) increasingly mismanaged. Mismanagement like, not setting up crowdfunding before the ship sank and all its best crew failed; or publishing a screenshot of Andy Ngo pedojacketing a trans writer, complete with her deadname; or a disgruntled ex-writer getting falsely accused of shit-talk, by actual staff. I'm grateful for the writing I've gotten to produce for HD (and will forever be kicking myself for not writing even more, in the four years I've had to do it!! i'm a dumbass!!!) but it is very much no longer the site I signed up for.

I don't want to resign as a contributor altogether, because I'm open to the idea of the site recovering and bad practices being retired as finances level out-- it would just be dishonest for potential backers to not be Aware Of The Circumstances, I think.

Jeremy Kaplowitz: i truly don't want to start shit, but feel compelled to say: i want to see Hard Drive succeed w/o resorting to throwing former writers & editors, myself included, under the bus. surely there's a way to save the site without building it over the corpses of those who left. my $0.02 i don't blame anyone who wants to sign up for the HD patreon and i support the website, but that includes those who worked on it for years, have complaints, and don't deserve to be treated like bitter assholes like this kind of stuff is just objectively true, meanwhile there's these new writers who joined the site after i left (meaning, in the last ~3 months) claiming people are liars. decide for yourself if you care, but this is what happened! [Quotes this Tweet]

Seth Finkelstein: Writing for Hard Drive has been a privilege the past few years, and it makes me so angry to see people I looked up to get jerked around behind the scenes. The amount of grenades the editors jumped on our behalf is immense, and I don't think the way they're being treated is right.

Other Bits On AI: We do know for sure however that AI art has been used by the site. Its fucking owner confirms it here:https://twitter.com/MattSaincome/status/1743040541603123622. Seems the owner pushed AI written articles as well! TayFabe: My vaguetweet is making the rounds & these made me apoplectic. - owner regularly lobbied using ai. Once he tested it & said ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. - ai images were used on the site & socials w/o consulting the team or disclosing it publicly I found the ai bit relevant to include bc 1) it illuminates a stark change in HD's current direction & leadership, 2) ai images have previously been used on the site and (since deleted) ig posts, 3) ai content fucking sucks, and repeatedly pushing to use it is a telling quality The "handful of writers who chose to leave" includes 2 editors-in-chief (both cofounders who wrote a combined total of >1,000 articles & defined the voice of HD), & at least 3 other editors. These guys put in WORK since 2017, so cool to be corrected by ppl who joined in Nov 2023 [Link to mentioned vague tweet from post.] More from TayFabe: owner continuously lobbied for using ai in every possible way. No one else wanted to do it, but he kept on, saying ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. Also, ai images were used on the site & socials without public disclosure or consulting the team.

The owner has responded now multiple times in a private discord... Thank you for people sharing screenshots! First Screenshot:

Kevin's Response: He banned me from the server for speaking out, so no, I didn't see it. And he gave no indication of a timeline, it was just "we'll do one when *I* say so" and gave every inclination he was totally against it. It bred an environment that pushed our hands to have to leave. Screenshot Round Two:

Kevin's Response: "Starting one in 3 months" is an absolute lie. He denied it, I have screenshots and others who can confirm. No timeline was given. Just "this is what it is now" and like, I couldn't live off of that. I wanted to do more but he was allergic to good ideas from others around him.

Matt, owner of Hard Drive, responds publicly on Twitter.

Matt: Kevin, the patreon launch was delayed because I didn't think it would work. Everyone is happy that it did work. Everyone who left the site because we didn't have money to pay for creative content which didn't revenue is welcome to return home. But unclear why the hostility.

Hard Drive paid out literally every dollar it had, then a bunch more, to creative people who worked on the site. When we ran out of money, we couldn't pay anymore. We did our best.

Kevin: Right, and my point of this thread was that it was completely and totally avoidable. This is reasonable to be upset about. How could I have been any more clear?

Matt: If we knew with 100% certainly that the community would have supported us via patreon, we would have done that. We didn't know. We had tried 4 years ago and got no support. We were wrong this time. We did our best to figure it out. We paid all the money we could.

Kevin: So you knew with 100% certainty this time? Or you took a leap of faith?

Matt: It was a last gasp panic effort after ad rates got cut in half on january 1st due to seasonal spending changes. We didn't know it would work. We were embarrassed to ask for support. We wanted to figure it out.

Kevin: Every site has a Patreon. Every YouTuber, comedy group, etc. But you insisted that nobody cared about Hard Drive. Which is wildly untrue. I know you see that now, but again, I think you can see why I and many others are pretty upset. A last ditch panic effort was long overdue. A couple more things from Matt:

It was about the size of the hole we needed plugged budget wise, the time I had left of personal resources, and the past data I had about us trying a patreon (which turned out to be a bad indicator). I didn't think the Patreon would help us fast enough. I made a bad estimation

aka "if we make $1000 more dollars a month via patreon, which would be 10x what we got last time, we will not solve any of our problems. If instead we try to plow down path B, we might make it out in time." That was the thinking. I chose the wrong path, but didn't mean to Kevin also retweeted this comment from the user Matt was responding to: So you're saying that you're bad at running the business, didn't listen to any of your employees until after they were forced to leave their jobs, and now you're going to get more of the money from the Patreon that was their idea in the first place? Matt's Response: Respectfully, I made a mistake delaying the patreon decision. But keeping a comedy site alive for 9 years is not easy, there are lots of potential ideas, and think overall we've done a good and honorable job. Will leave this thread in peace now to allow people their space.

Sorry for linking to Elon's hellsite (derogatory), but sources need links so...

#video games #patreon #hard drive #ai critical

[empty-movement]

Chiho Saito’s 1999 Revolutionary Girl Utena Original Illustration Collection

IT’S HERE. IT’S DONE. IT’S FINISHED. NOW…IT’S YOURS. Happy Holidays, my friends.

Vanna here! I have posted some already about this project, and the responses I got, public and otherwise, have been absolutely incredible. Y’all have been reblogging and hyping this before it even finished…I haven’t felt so encouraged about an Utena project since the musicals! (Yes, streams soon, I promise.) You can read the other post to get more details, and catch my post here with more details about the process if you’re interested. The long and short of it?

This is the first artbook I ever scanned. I did it in 2001. In Photoshop, using multiple scans per page that took hours to process. But it was 2001. A half megabyte file that was 1250px wide was considered extremely hardcore and impressive. That’s just always been the business I’m in when it comes to Utena art, you know? 

It’s now the latest artbook I’ve scanned, and so much of the process, and effort involved, is unchanged. What has changed, is the result. Welcome to your new desktop background. Your new phone background. Your new poster print. 

What I’ve done here is attempt to create definitive digitized images of Chiho Saito’s work as offered by this book--I have removed the print moiré of the original scans, and used my literal decades of experience to try and tease out as much information from them as possible. Without being physically in front of the original artwork (which is a thing I’ve had the great fortune to get to do) this is The Most Chiho Saito you are ever going to get. I’ve tried my best to make sure there is a way to get it that works for everyone:

Do you just wanna scope 'em out? Look at some disaster gays? Grab your favorite one or two? This is the path for you! Check out the ‘compressed’ (not very) 10k ‘web friendly’ (not really) copy at the Bibliothèque, the media archiving wing of the Something Eternal forums at Empty Movement*. All the following links are also available from here. Do you want these copies? All of them? Don't just grab them individually, friend. This batch is 375MB and can be downloaded as a zip of the individual files here on our Google Drive.

Do you like digital archiving? Are you looking for a copy that preserves the archival quality of the effort but sits nice and comfy in a single file? This is for you. A minimally compressed 10k, 513MB version worked into a PDF is now up, shiny and chrome, on the Internet Archive. Do you like the idea of the minimal compression, but want the individual files in a zip? Yep I did that too, here's the drive link.

Are you looking to print these in a larger size? This is probably the only reason on Earth you’d ever want them, and yet a bunch of you are going to go straight for these. Here are the zero-compression JPG full size copies, most of them are 15k across, like simply a ridiculous size. Pick your fave and download it from our Google Drive! 

I am genuinely really proud of this work.** I was able to tease out so much new detail from these…her incredible layering techniques, the faintest brush of her highlights, and the full range of her delicate hand at whites and blacks… details commonly lost in digitization. I sincerely hope you find something here that you’re looking for, as an artist looking for inspiration, as a weeb looking for a desktop, as an archiver excited to see incredible 90s manga artwork saved forever in the digital realm. I feel like I have already said so much about them, and could keep going, but you know what? This work speaks for itself. Enjoy, use, explore, and definitely tell us what you think!

We love y’all. ~ Vanna & Yasha

* AHEM ASTERISK AHEM

You might be wondering what any of that is. Something Eternal? Biblewhatawhat??? EmptyMovement.com? You might even have done a double take at the word ‘forum.’ And you should!!!

I have a confession. This artbook was my ‘side project’ as I worked on this, *the main project.* For a couple years I’ve been banging around with a new domain, and originally I had other plans for it, but Elon Musk ruined my Twitter and Discord is well along on its way to enshittification, and well….we joke on the Discord a lot about ‘reject modernity, embrace forums’ and you know what? We’re right. So Yasha and I are putting our money where our mouths are once again, and doing something insane. We are launching, in 2023, a website forum. Obviously, this is not the official ‘launch’ per se, but I cannot announce the artbook without directing you to the forum, since it sits on the attached very cool gallery system. Oops! Told on myself. Another post more focused on the forum will be forthcoming, but if you are just that motivated to get in right away, you absolutely can! (This will help stagger new arrivals anyway, which is good for us!) If you would rather wait for the ‘official’ launch, by all means that’s coming, including a lengthy screed about how and why we’re doing this. In either case, remember: this is a couple weebs trying to make internet magic happen, we are not website developers by trade. Give us grace as we iron things out and grow into this cool new website thingie…hopefully along with some of you! :D

If you do join up, naturally, there is a thread about this project!

** If you like this kind of content, consider helping us pay for it! We do have a Patreon! If you’re wanting to use these in some public-facing distributive way, all we ask is for credit back to Empty Movement (ohtori.nu or emptymovement.com, either will work.) 

I would like to say ‘don’t just slap these files on RedBubble to get easy money’ but I know that saying this won’t effectively prevent it. Y’all that do that suck, but you’re not worth letting it rain on the rest of this parade. :)

#revolutionary girl utena #utena #rgu #sku #empty movement #chiho saito #90s manga #digital archives #manga aesthetic #shoujo kakumei utena #utena art

[plutoswritingplanet]

It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha x Female!Reader) pt.3

a/n: so i lied about this being the last chapter, there's one more, i know im sorry....... also shout out to my friends, who were unbelievably helpful with the smut part because oh, there's smut here

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content (yuuuh yuuuuuuh), Alcohol, like....a tiny bit of Humiliation.

Summary: The month-long courting comes to an end with a bang! As your engagement party commences, wine flows and darker feelings rise to the surface

Pt. 1, Pt.2 Pt.4 (finale)

In the darkness of the night, he still comes to you in your dreams, knife in hand, body taunt and ready to strike. Every single morning, you awake with a gasp, as visions of your tormentor plague you. In some, he slits your throat, reveling in the way red cascades down your nightgown. Other times, it's a quick and brutal stabbing, your insides twisting as you wake. 

But then, there are those rare nights where you rise from your bed, sweat clinging to your skin, as you fight with the pressure in your stomach, try to rid yourself of the images, before making yourself presentable for breakfast. 

Those dreams, nightmares, are the worst. 

White, elegant fingers, grabbing, pulling, pinching every surface of your exposed skin. Defined arms around you, squeezing your pliant body in an embrace that is as tender and romantic, as a snake suffocating its victim. Deceivingly soft lips, mapping a trail down your front, pulling back to reveal teeth, which make that same trail visible, hurting.

In those dreams, he paints you with black. Taints you, until you're molded into his perverse image, until there's no telling where he ends, and you begin. He makes you into a sculpture, in a way that an artist cuts away pieces of clay, slowly robbing you of all agency, until there's only what he wants to see. And you let him, with a trembling smile on your lips, hands twisted into the stained sheets of your bed. 

Ignoring him has become an art form as well.

Since your faithful tangle at the training barracks, you did everything in your power, to never appear in the same room as him, or at least, never alone. You became a shadow in your own home, a whisper of the person you used to be. Shame is a powerful thing, and you wore it like a wedding veil over your face. Paul would always help you, silently. Never asking outright what had happened between you and the Harkonnen, but somehow always knowing. Your brother, your salvation, breaks your heart everytime he grabs your hand, and leads you away from the predator in the room.

The date of your engagement party has been set a week into the future. The nervous bustling of the court only heightening your already wracked thoughts, as the inevitability of your situation begins to haul you to the ground. 

Your Mother took most of the preparations on her back, directing the servants, the kitchen, the musicians. She picked out a dress for you, some flowing abomination, which hung in your closet, reminding you every morning, that you will have to wear it with a smile. You hoped, there will be wine at the feast, hope that it will be sweet enough to dull your insides. 

As the date of the feast comes closer and closer, you begin to spend more time outside. 

The air is crisp and smells of seawater, and you can't help but inhale fully, every time. You want it seared into your brain, so whenever you're taken away from your home, you can run back to this memory, to the feel of grass under your fingers. 

- You'll catch a cold, if you keep sitting here.

Paul's voice brings you back from your dark thoughts, and you look up, from your spot in the grass. He stands a couple paces back, hands folded behind his back in a manner, that is reminding you of your Father more and more every day. 

- Do you want to join me? - you ask, your lips quirking up into a small smile - Or would you prefer to stand there like a pillar of salt?

Your brother shakes his head, before coming closer and plopping down next to you, his skinny legs stretched out in front of him. The both of you sit in silence for a while, enjoying the breeze ruffling your hair, the smell of ocean and the waves crashing into the cliffs. There are seagulls flying over your heads, and you feel the moisture from the grass seep into your clothing. 

A wistful sigh escapes you, before you can stop it, and you let yourself fall, laying flat on the hill. 

Paul looks down at you, undescribable sadness swimming in his eyes, and an instinct of sister awakes in you, a need to comfort, despite being a wreck yourself. So, you offer him a smile, a tired one, but a smile nonetheless. 

- Do you think we could take the horses for a ride today? - your brother asks with naive hope, his eyes turning to the sea.

- Mother won't allow me to go, she wants me to spend my pondering the proper behavior during the feast - try as you might, you can't hide the bitterness in your voice - Besides, I could fall off and hurt the merchandising. 

Paul's hand finds yours, and he squeezes your fingers tightly. It's hard not to break, in moments like these. When you're forced to remember, you'll most likely never see your family again. 

- If I could do something, anything... - you recognize that feverish note in your brother's voice, it's devoid of reason, impulsive, too much like you.

- But you can't, so you won't.

A frustrated sound escapes his mouth, and he turns back to the sea. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, eyelashes falling heavily on your cheeks. He looks like a Duke, you conclude, and that thought feels strangely comforting. No matter where you'll be shipped off, no matter what life has in store for you in the future, somehow, you know your brother will persevere. 

- Do you remember that time Gurney made us train on the beach? - you ask, a sudden wave of nostalgia washing over you, as the clouds float in the sky above you - Cause of the... The balance. We had to try to balance in the sand.

Paul twists his head towards you, surprised at the turn of the conversation, before cracking a smile. 

- Yes, he slipped on the rocks, nearly broke his backbone - he starts to wave his hands around in a wonderful reenactment of your mentor's fall, before collapsing next to you in the grass.

Your laughter mingles with the sounds of the sea, as the both of you, the future of House Atriedes, share memories, scenes from the life you've lived together. The good and the bad. The horse races through plains and hills of Caladan, the many, many food fights. It's hard to tell, how much time you spend together, laying in the grass, but when you finally fall into silence, the air has become considerably more chilly. A sign, it's time to return to reality, to your duties. 

- You should've been me, and I you - Paul whispers suddenly, and you close your eyes in a pained expression. 

Perhaps it's true. Perhaps Lady Jessica made a mistake, and gave a Daughter where she should've given a Son. Now, it's no longer important. Your roles have been set in place, all you could do, is fulfill them. Somewhere back, in the direction of the Palace you can hear a voice calling your names. A reminder, that the world outside this grassy sanctuary exists, and can't wait any longer. 

You move to stand, Paul gathering himself up closely behind. Your clothes stick to your body, and you're shivering from the cold, but if you could spend just one more moment exactly like that, you would've taken that chance without question. 

An arm snakes around your elbow, and you lean onto your brother's shoulder, as you start to walk back, steps swaying like a pair of drunkards. Then, Paul tugs you closer, you can feel him tense suddenly, as he leans with a sullen expression on his pale face.

- I hate the way he looks at you - he confesses, waves upon waves of righteous Atriedes fury crashing in his voice.

You don't know how to respond to that, so you stay silent, giving his arm a reassuring tug.

That was the last conversation you've had with your brother.

*** While the House Atriedes is characterized by a rather mellow temper, there was one thing they took extremely seriously. And those, unfortunately for you, were engagement rituals. 

So, that's why you sit posed like a porcelain doll in a deep chair, next to your soon-to-be husband, at the foot of a long table, surrounded by music, and dancing, and food. There are ribbons hung from the high ceilings, and flickering lights float around them like little fireflies. You watch, as they dance above you, the ridiculous headdress placed on your hair digs into your skul. Color surrounds you, your own dress flowing like a waterfall, elegant, yet delicate. The pools of fabric gather around your legs, a chiffon monstrosity, that you know, is supposed to make you beautiful. 

And perhaps you would've felt beautiful, if this was any other occasion. A birthday feast, perhaps. Dare you say, and engagement party with someone you actually loved. 

Speaking of which, your betrothed sits beside you, sticking out like a sore thumb. He looks utterly bored, eyes following the celebrating masses, hand playing with a steak knife. Not enough blood for his tastes, you suppose. He's dressed in traditional Harkonnen attire, which you think, doesn't really look that much different from all the other outfits you've seen him in. Black, sleek, efficient. You must be a curious pair, a mass of colorful materials and a black-stone pillar. 

The wine, thankfully, is sweet. It warms your face, and turns your insides into a pleasant mush. You should've eaten more, but then again, it was a celebration of your imprisonment, and if you wanted to get drunk, you would. And you did get drunk. Quickly. 

The dress moves with you, as you slowly slide down the chair, one leg resting up on the seat. A frightfully unbecoming sight, but you can't find it in yourself to care. Another, clumsy drink from your cup, and you sigh deeply, blinking a couple of times to rid yourself of sudden dizziness. 

Your betrothed gives you a look, whether it's of warning or amusement, you're not sure. And you don't care. Your nose scrunches in the general direction of his smooth head, and you take another sip, just to spite him.

- Shut up - you grumble, a slurr entering your words.

- I haven't said a word - he counters, and this time you can see him smile.

- You're thinking, it's annoying.

Feyd Rautha has an unpleasant laugh. 

Sharp and low, and very rough around the edges. It's like listening to an old spaceship try to take off, and you're sure you don't want to hear him laugh ever again. That's it, your goal in this, frankly, fucked up marriage, will be to never make your husband laugh. Although, it's best not to think about it so loudly, he might be a hidden mind reader, and would most likely laugh in your face every day, just to torture you. 

God. You were going to regret every sip come tomorrow morning.

- You're wrapped like a present - Feyd Rautha leans down with a smirk playing on his full lips, and you have to crane your neck to look him straight in the face - Shall I unwrap you here, while your family watches?

Despite the light tone, you shiver under his gaze. Something in the way his body seems relaxed yet tense at the same time tells you, this shameless man would do it in a heartbeat, if you as much as inclined your head. 

- Gross - you groan, hand untangling itself from the amassing of chiffon to push back at his face.

It's the first time, you've touched him out of your own volition, and even in your drunken daze, you note the sudden glint in his eyes. Fingers grab at your wrist, keeping you in place, as he leans further into your touch, turning his head slightly. Wine mixes with sudden embarrassment, as his lips brush against the meat of your palm. Then, black teeth shine and your heart jumps to your throat, as he bites down on your skin, hard enough to make you jump. Tongue darts out, licking a stripe up your thumb, before giving your fingertip a tiny nibble.

You tear your hand away from him, pressing it into your chest with an appalled expression. There are indents just below your thumb in the shape of his teeth, and the confounding feelings you've been trying to stoke for almost a month now, come crashing down upon you.

He looks satisfied with himself, returning back to his seat, and his steak knife. The utensil reflects the flowing lights, and despite yourself you swallow thickly, turning back to your cup, which is quickly becoming empty.

God, it was getting incessantly hot in this cursed dining hall. 

Whether it was the wine, or the sudden wave of knee-bending arousal washing through you, you couldn't tell. (It was both, you were fully aware it was both) And you're uncomfortable, terribly so. You fidget in your seat, almost painfully aware of the heat, which has now spread further down. The fabric of the dress slides against your body, skin becoming far too sensitive, too hungry for touch. You try to relieve some of your torment, legs squeezing and rubbing together. Treacherous tongues of self-awareness rear its ugly heads, and you look up, and...

Of course he noticed. 

Feyd Rautha places his chin in his hand, and he observes you with a knowing look, which turns dark and terrifying as soon as your eyes meet.

- Careful, lest the court starts talking - he warns you, his voice somehow becoming deeper than before, and you take a shuddering breath.

Dagnerous, this is dangerous.

 You're seated far away from your family, from any consolation, and even if they were close enough to intervene, the masses of dancing people, the sound of their laughter... Your heart stops, a snake curling itself around your insides. Truly, if that beast of a man wanted to, he could make do of his threat from earlier, and take you where you sit. Haunted by that thought, both terrifying and arousing, you down the rest of your wine. 

It doesn't taste as good anymore. Hell, it threatens to come back up, until you force it to sit in your stomach. 

Duncan, you need to find Duncan, or you'll do something incredibly stupid. You'll do something incredibly stupid either way, but at least the regret will be less biting. So, pulling yourself up on trembling arms, you shuffle out of your chair, your betrothed's heated gaze following you on your way through the hall. 

People don't even look at you, too enraptured with free food and drinks, and the music, which flows loudly through the air. Good, in any other case, the Duke's Daughter, stumbling drunk through corridors, would certainly lift some eyebrows. Your feet carry you towards the training barracks, a familiar route you've followed many times. Indulging in sex with your Father's most trusted advisor was not the healthiest form of regulating emotions, but you needed something, and God knows, you'd rather die than get it from anyone else. From Him especially.

The choice is made for you, however, as a strong hand wraps itself around your arm, just above your elbow, yanking you backwards, behind a stone column. The world spins in front of your eyes, and for a second you worry the company of wine warming your insides is about to abandon you along with breakfast. 

- Do you truly thought, you could sneak away from me?

Finally, your eyes focus on Fey Rautha's face, almost demonic in the low light of the corridor. Shadows play on his expression, falling heavily over his eyes, and you try to wrench yourself from his grasp.

- What I do is none of your business - you slurr out, wringing your arm every which way, his fingers digging painfully into your flesh - Let go of me.

The Harkonnen presses himself closer to you, trapping your body between the stone and himself. His nose nearly crushes itself into the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, taking a disturbing long whiff. You can feel his chest vibrate against your own, as he groans deep within his throat. It sobers you up in record speed, and you start to thrash in his hold. He subdues your outburst, as if he was made for it, before dragging his nose up, towards your hair. You snarl like a wild animal.

- Let me go. 

His body moves on its own accord, tearing itself away from you in an instant, legs tripping over themselves, to put distance between your bodies. He looks up at you, muscles tense and an expression of shock painted across his pale face. 

The ability to use the Voice was something you rarely took part in. Training sessions with your Mother went well, as expected of a woman, but you still had a lot of work ahead of you. You blink forcefully, steadying yourself against the wall behind you. Then, you notice the borderline murderous look on your soon-to-be husband's face.

- Witch - he spits out, baring his blackened teeth at you.

- I am the Daughter of Duke Atriedes - your voice carries a note of righteous pride, despite dread climbing up your spine - And you will treat me with respect, wedded or not.

He straightens himself with petrifying speed, and as he takes a step towards you, actions overtake reflection. Your hand winds back, and you bring a resounding slap across his sharp cheekbone. While your palm blooms with pain, he seems to barely react, closing the distance between the two of you after a tense beat. Before you have a chance to react again, his hands grab at your face, and his lips crash against yours in a punishing kiss.

Teeth clink together and the momentum of the kiss makes your head collide with the stone pillar behind you. He's fingers dig into your cheeks and your jaw, as he devours you completely, bringing down all your defences in one swoop. You kiss him back, almost immediately, opening your mouth to let him in, to meet his tongue halfway. It's almost grotesque, how much you hate and love this at the same time, the buzzing of the wine mixing with the sound of your racing heart, with the sound of his unabashed sounds of pleasure. 

Hands flail at your sides, as you grab all you can take, pulling him even closer by the thick fabric of his tunic. 

His hands however, know exactly what they want, and as he lets go of your face, they both sink down. Fingers hook into the neckline of your dress, and he tears it down, your entire body swaying with the force of his movement. Your breasts are freed for only just a moment, cold air hitting them in a way that would be uncomfortable, if they weren't immediately covered by your betrothed's large palm. He palms at your chest, as if he wants to crush it, and you bite back a whine, which threatens to spill from your abused lips. 

- Don't - he growls a warning, unoccupied hand tangling itself within your hair - Sing.

And you do. As his mouth descends upon your neglected breast, where he alternates between licks and bites that make your back fly off the wall. Once again you don't know what to do with your hands, finding them entirely useless in the Harkonnen's overpowering grasp. One, grabs at his shoulder, undecided on whether to push him off, or pull him in closer. The other one scratches four lines into his skull, as he sucks on the sensitive skin under your ribs. 

Finally, he detaches from you completely, standing straight and regarding you with a look so intensely ravenous, it shakes you to your core. Your exposed chest rises and falls in tandem with your heaving breaths, and you shiver, as cold air hits your skin. His gaze drinks in your dissheveled hair, the way your lips are puffy and red. A beautiful sight for his blackened eyes. 

- I know who you went looking for - he starts, stalking towards you once again - Can't have that, can I?

You debate feigning confusion, outrage at such accusation, which hasn't really been uttered yet. But, as Feyd Rautha stops just short of the bottom hem of your dress, you suddenly find yourself unable to speak. Instead, as a last ditched effort to rid yourself of him, your hand extends, a half-hazard attempt at liberation. He swats it away, as one would a mere fly, before sinking to his knees in front of you. 

- Lift up your dress, Viper - his voice is like thunder in your ears, and you bite your lips at the sight of his eyes, dark and surprisingly eager.

Hands move clumsily in an effort to gather all those translucent layers. You nearly trip over yourself, earning a rather nasty chuckle from below. As soon, as your legs are visible, he dives between the chiffon, his head dissapearing from sight. You can feel his lips, traveling up the expanse of your calf, giving a light bite under your knee. 

Anticipation siezes your gut, and you grab onto the wall, as if that would save you. His hands grab your leg, skin incredibly warm to the touch for someone who looks so cold, and then, with forceful tugs, he starts to manouver you. 

You let out an unbecoming squeak, as he yanks your leg over his shoulder. Strong hands keep you in place, and he reaches out around the upper part of your thigh to all but tear your undergarments off of your core. The force of this action makes you jump in place on your one available leg, just to hold your balance, and for a second you consider swatting at him. 

That thought leaves you almost immediately after it appears, as an onslaugh of kitten licks unleashes downward. A vague, head like shape moves under your dress, the chiffon floating from place to place like a hypnotizing river. The wine must've heightened your senses to an alarming degree, because as soon as Feyd Rautha begins his ministrations, you're a mess. 

It's honestly humiliating, the way you fight for any purchase on the wall behind you, as he begins to lick in earnes, parting your legs further with one hand, while the other wraps securely around your used leg. While there, he cops a feel of your behind, fingers biting into the soft flesh, and you lock your lower lip between your teeth so hard, you can taste blood on your tongue.

As if he's developed some new telepathic talents, his hand leaves your ass, in favor of winding up, and slapping it harshly. The action makes your jump in place once again, a sound stuck between outrage and glee fleeing your throat, before you have the chance to stop it. Right, "sing", you remind yourself, and immediately feel him change his tactics. 

Your bundle of nerves opens new possibilities of torment, and as his lips close around the bud, you can't help the whine, escaping through your lips. The music is loud, you remind yourself. They won't hear, no one will hear. His hand pushes your dangling leg further up your shoulder, and your back arches from the stone. You will be sore as all hell after this is done, but for now, it doesn't matter. Nothing really matters, except the way your betrothed eats you out, like a man who's been starved for decades.

- Oh shit - you curse, hands flailing uselessly - Oh fuck!

All of a sudden, everything stops, and your building peak subsides into a dissatisfactory simmer. Feyd Rautha's head emerges from under the fabric, a terrible, shit-eating grin on his wet lips.

- Such language? - he teases, tongue darting out to lap at your arousal - So unbecoming of a-...

- Fucking don't stop! - there's panic in your movements, as you grab the back of his head, and shove him right under your dress again.

The laughter should be unsettling for you, but he returns to his post with twice as much motivation, and however more strength, and before you know it, your orgasm sneaks upon you. A sudden tightness in your core is all the warning you get, before the coil snaps, and your entire body starts to spasm in pleasure. 

It's good. Incredibly so. You'd risk saying it's the most intense you've ever came, but never out loud, never to him. That shameful secret was between you and whatever God that was listening. Stars erupt behind your eyelids, your breathing stopping for just a moment. 

And then you go deliciously limp, legs giving out completely. 

To his credit, the Harkonnen catches you before you hit the floor, the arm curling around your leg proving to be an unmeasurable support. His head emerges from under the dress once again, and he lets you slide down the wall, until you're seated. He sways on the balls of his feet, still towering you, even as he crouches. 

You swallow, throat slightly raw from all the noise you've done moments ago, and he follows the movements of your neck muscles with greedy eyes. Still greedy, after taking so much. Truly, he was a Harkonnen. And before you can stop yourself, a thought materializes in your brain, a treacherous little information, which would shake you to the core, if your muscles weren't currently made of taffy.

He blushes pink. Your betrothed blushes pink, from the exercise of making you cum on his tongue alone. God, what a precious sight.

He must've noticed the serene smile playing upon your lips, and his nature to ruin comes to light. His hand reaches back, and you freeze in your spot, as you recognize that damned golden steak knife. The blade shines in the dimly lit corridor, making your breathing faster, questions swimming behind your eyes. You don't really want to fight him in this state, but you fucking will, if he tries anything. 

- An engagement present, for you, Viper. - he rasps, licking his reddened lips in an obscene display, which doesn't repulse you quite as much as it should. 

- I have nothing to give in return - your voice is stern, and your betrothed flashes you an evil grin.

Then, he presents you the tip of the knife, golden utensil hanging between his slender fingers, and you look up at him, not understanding what is expected of you. Placing one knee on the floor, Feyd Rautha lowers himself to your eye level, for the hundredth of times surprising you with the sheer grace in his movements. 

- Kiss - he whispers, into the space between the both of you.

Your eyes fall to the knife, then, to him and you take a long, deep breath. Pride, your biggest flaw, takes a deadly hit, as the man twists the knife in his fingers, looking at you expectedly. You hate him, truly and deeply, and it must be showing on your face, because he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, as soon as your eyes meet. 

Swallowing your pride, you keep his gaze, leaning towards the blade. Your lips press delicately against the cool metal and the Harkonnen flashes you a nasty, self-satisfied smirk, before slipping the knife up his sleeve and standing up. 

- I'll see you back at the feast - he gives you a small bow, and you press your lips tightly together.

- Fuck you.

- After the wedding, my Viper.

And with that, he turns around.

 You're left there, on the floor, your dignity in shambles, the exertion catching up to you all at once, as if his presence alone was the only thing keeping you from feeling pain. A stupid thought, you chastize yourself, before slowly pulling yourself from the cold tiles. 

It takes you a couple of shameful minutes, trying to put yourself back together again. The ridiculous headdress, which has slipped all the way down from your hair, will probably never look the same, as when your Mother has styled it, but you can't find it in yourself to care. 

The music still plays, as you enter the hall, and thankfully, no one notices your arrival. No one but your betrothed, who raises his drinking cup in your direction, as if nothing had happened. His face is annoying, you conclude, and turn away, your aching legs taking you towards the center of the room, where people danced and sang in celebration of your engagement. What a lovely sight, what a lovely couple. Opposites attract, right?

Bitter, aching and humiliated, you throw yourself into the crowd, let it sway you from place to place, as you dance away this whole wretched week. The whole month-long courting rituals, which were just a bullshit attempt at torture. 

It's said, that when Death comes to take your soul, you're allowed one more dance before the eternal void. 

So you dance. 

#my writing #dune part 2 #dune x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #tennis ball strikes again #i would also like to thank tiktok editing community for giving me material to daydream about #im seeing this movie again on thursday totally not because i want to write the most accurate smut in the next chapter

[lordcrumps]

The Sims 2 For Rent - CC EXPANSION PACK

Sul Sul!

~ More photos under the under the cut ~

Last week the Sims 4 got a new pack, this week Sims 2 players get that same pack! In a collaboration with @platinumaspiration and @tvickiesims and a HUGE assist from @episims, we bring you "The Sims 2 For Rent CC Expansion Pack!"

This is a large set, and advisable that it does not get merged even further than it already is! - I ran into some issues when trying to do this!

When you explore this pack, please take a look at the marble ring rug, it has some surprisingly cute rug swatches! I put a swatch in it to remove the marbles themselves, so you have a cute small rug! - I only mention this as I was going to bin the rug off once uploaded, but then I found it had some lovely swatches!

FUNCTIONALITY

So most of the items will function as they should and intended as. Its just not just deco items.

There is two collection files included, separated into build buy! Please note that fences and stairs and spandrels cant be but into a collection!

The squatty toilet that took me over 12 hours to make, yeah they squat, animation can be a bit bouncy but such is life. This toilet also can be flushed, get dirty and is cleanable!

Outdoor plants are seasonal!

Counters are animated with insides built, there is no drawer on the counter, I did not want to change the shape of the unit, and saw EA did the same - ignore the fact they grab something from a non existent drawer

Wardrobes have interiors elements, and have working doors!

Each Kettle have two versions, choose only one, one for the colour traits mod / one 'normal'. They function as Tea makers! Huazzah!

Spandrels in build mode are classified as fences. I made a variant with fence / no fence.

Several of the larger deco pieces such as the Arch Gate, or umbrella are actually lights!

Radiators act like radiators!

The Aircon Unit is completely functional, doesn't lower bills, but it does lower sims temperatures!

"Water Heaters" act like solar panels, they get money off your bills!

The Electrical Fuse box has 2 versions, I kept them both in, one wall deco and one functions as a burglar alarm - I wanted more alarms.

Most Sofas / Chairs have morphs!

Slots added to the Vanity and Bathroom Cabinet!

FENCES / SPANDRELS / STAIRS OH MY!

I have included swatch images of each of the spandrels, fences and stairs and labelled them to match, this is so that you can go in and take out any of the swatches you do not want. This is because there are lot of new fences and the menu can feel cluttered with them in for some people.

DOWNLOAD

ALT - SFS

~ Credits / Thanks / List of items not converted under the cut ~

MORE PHOTOS

CREDITS

Mini fridge is cloned from Targa over at MTS - so now it works just like a regular fridge barring a few animations (get baby bottle and juggle)

Kettles were cloned from @pforestsims's kettle, link here.

@jacky93sims for the base of the squat toilet! Epi for the code edits!

THANKS

@tvickiesims, @platinumaspiration thank you soo much for helping with the objects, really couldn't do it myself!! Your amazing, awesome, and some of the best creators out there! Thank you again!

@episims - YOU ARE DA BOMB! Thank you for all your help in getting those toilets working with me, and everything else you do when you answer my little annoying questions! Appreciated like you wouldn't believe!

LIST OF ITEMS NOT CONVERTED - @sims4t2bb

Due to the sizing / functionality of these objects, they will not be included in this pack!

All Yer Fixins Untenable Food Stand

Mali's Moonlight Market Craft Stall

Vegan Vittles Night Market

Late Night Snack Dessert Stall

Rice to Meet You Night Market

The Unrestroom

Fisherman's Slats Window - Tall

The Secret Maze Window - Very Tall

The Secret Maze Window - Super Duper Tall

Stained Glass Tomarani Shutters - Tall

Stained Glass Tomarani Shutters - Tall and Open Wide

The Save Us From Ruin Tallest Cinched Wall Curtain

The How Many Times Do We Need To Tell You It's Not Silk Taller Wall Curtain

The We Are Going To Jail< Tallest Wall Curtain So You Know the Truth Curtain

#4t2 #lordcrumpscc #thesims2 #4t2 conversion #4t2 cc #sims2 #sims2cc #For Rent #Ep15 #Sims 2 Does it Better

[0sbrain]

here's a list of mozilla add-ons for all of you tumblrinas out there to have a better internet experience

also, if you like my post, please reblog it. Tumblr hates links but i had to put them so you adhd bitches actually download them <3 i know because i am also adhd bitches

BASIC STUFF:

AdGuard AdBlocker / uBlock Origin : adguard is a basic adblock and with origin you can also block any other element you want. for example i got rid of the shop menu on tumblr

Privacy Badger : this add on will block trackers. if an element contains a tracker it will give you the option to use it or not

Shinigami Eyes: this will highlight transphobic and trans friendly users and sites using different colors by using a moderated database. perfect to avoid terfs on any social media. i will explain how to use this and other add-ons on android as well under the read more cut

THINGS YOU TUMBLINAS WANT:

Xkit: the best tumblr related add on. with many customizable options, xkit not only enhances your experience from a visual standpoint, but provides some much needed accessibility tools

bonus: if you are into tf2 and wanna be a cool cat, you can also get the old version to add cool reblog icons

AO3 enhancer: some basic enhancements including reading time and the ability to block authors and tags

YOUTUBE

Return of the YouTube Dislike : pretty self explanatory

Youtube non-stop: gets rid of the annoying "Video paused. Continue watching?" popup when you have a video in the background

SponsorBlock: gives you options to skip either automatically or manually sponsors, videoclip non music sectors and discloses other type of sponsorships/paid partnerships

Enhancer for YouTube: adds some useful options such as custom play speed, let's you play videos in a window and most important of all, it allows you to make the youtube interface as ugly as your heart desires. I can't show a full image of what it looks like because i've been told its eye strainy and i want this post to be accessible but look at this <3

PocketTube: allows you to organize your subscriptions into groups

YouTube Comment Search: what it says

FINDING STUFF

WayBack Machine: you probably know about this site and definitely should get the add on. this allows you to save pages and access older versions with the click of a button. while you can search wayback using web archives, please get this one as well as it allows you to easily save pages and contribute to the archive.

Web Archives: it allows you to search through multiple archives and search engines including WayBack Machine, Google, Yandex and more.

Search by Image: allows you to reverse image search using multiple search engines (in my experience yandex tends to yield the best results)

Image Search Options: similar to the last one

this next section is pretty niche but... STEAM AND STEAM TRADING

SteamDB: adds some interesting and useful statistics

Augmented Steam: useful info specially for browsing and buying games

TF2 Trade Helper: an absolute godsend, lets you add items in bundles, keeps track of your keys and metal and your recent trades, displays links to the backpack tf page next to users profiles and more. look it tells me how much moneys i have and adds metal to trades without clicking one by one oh may god

IN CONCLUSION: oooooh you want to change to firefox so badly, you want to delete chrome and all the chrome clones that are actually just spyware and use firefox

HOW TO USE MOZILLA ADD-ONS ON YOUR PHONE

if you already use firefox on android, you'll know there are certain add-ons compatible with the app, some of them even being made just for the mobile version such as Video Background Play FIx. while most of them are pretty useful, some more specific ones aren't available on this version of the browser, but there's a way of getting some of them to work

you need to download the firefox nightly app, which is basically the same as the regular firefox browser but with the ability of activating developer mode. you can find how to do that here. once you've enabled it, you need to create a collection with all the add ons you want. i wouldn't recommend adding extensions if the creators haven't talked about phone compatibility, but XKit and Shinigami Eyes should work

also, don't tell the government this secret skater move, but you can try using both the regular firefox browser and nightly so you can have youtube videos in a floating box while you browse social media.

see? i can block this terf while Rick Rolling the people following this tutorial. isn't that tubular?

#zezo talks #firefox #internet safety #accessibility #id in alt text #this will get tagged as tf2 because mine heart desires and its mentioned like twice #tf2 #long post #but it's worth it i promise #tumblr

[punkshort]

somewhere to run | 2. book club

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: An incident at the diner causes you to get shaken up, and Joel is there to help.

Chapter Warnings: language, slow burn, mutual pining, PTSD type symptoms, flirting, jealousy, attempted robbery, reader gets mildly injured

WC: 6K

Series Masterlist

"So you see why it's so important you keep on top of your oil changes, yeah?" Mr. Connor finished saying as you set down his plate of waffles and sausage. You nodded enthusiastically while you filled up his coffee.

"I was never really any good at car stuff," you admitted, but he shook his head.

"If you take care of it, that car'll last you five more years and save you boatloads of money," he told you, wagging his finger. "You come by my shop any time and I'll take a look at that beater you're drivin', won't rip you off, either."

You laughed as you heard the bells above the door ring and Maria greet the next customer.

"I'll hold you to it," you said with a wink before turning to put the coffee back on the burner.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the familiar outline of a man settle into Joel's usual seat at the counter, and you felt the butterflies stir up in your stomach. You glanced up to make sure there wasn't any food getting cold in the window before pulling out your notepad and walking over. As you approached, you mentally braced yourself for the onslaught of his cologne, but as you got closer, you couldn't smell it. In fact, all you could smell was soap and maybe a faint hint of oil from his gun.

When you paused in front of him, the realization dawning on you, he glanced up from the menu with a smirk. A slow smile spread across your face when you looked him in the eye.

"Better?" was all he said, and you couldn't stop the giggle from escaping your lips.

"You didn't have to do that for me," you said, suddenly feeling bashful and looking down at your blank notepad.

"I know, but I wanted to," he said, leaning back and closing the menu. He didn't even know why he looked at it anymore, he knew it by heart already. "Thought maybe it'd make you stick around long enough for me to get to know you better."

You definitely felt your cheeks flare at that comment, and it must have been visible because Joel just grinned, clearly very pleased with himself.

"Where are you from?" he asked, determined to try to make some more progress with you today.

"Pennsylvania," you said, finally looking back up at him with a smile as you tapped your pen on the pad.

"Northerner," he said with feigned disgust. "And what brought you all the way to Texas?"

"The incredible job opportunity, isn't it obvious?" you said, and he laughed. A real laugh, one you hadn't heard before, and it did something to you. Uh oh.

"You're funny," Joel said, almost as if he were saying it to himself. You grinned and decided to steer the conversation in a different direction: away from you.

"What about you? Have you lived here your whole life?"

"Born and raised," Joel said with a nod. "Our pop used to be the town sheriff, before he passed 'bout ten years back or so."

"So, you followed in your father's footsteps?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Suppose I did," he told you, leaning forward. "But can I tell you a secret?"

You hummed and leaned forward as well, trying to bite back your smirk.

"Kinda wishin' now I was the one who bought this place instead of my brother," he said quietly and so close to your ear that it sent a shiver down your spine.

Still leaning in, you dropped your voice to match his and said "then who would stop those teenagers from drawing phallic images on street signs?"

He laughed again, the same deep, throaty laugh as before, and you felt your stomach clench at the sound.

"You heard that, huh?" he asked, smiling and leaning back. You shrugged.

"Lee isn't as quiet as he thinks," you told him. You wanted to say you had to learn early on to eavesdrop, that listening and anticipating danger became second nature to you, but you caught yourself.

"Howdy, brother," you heard Tommy's voice boom from somewhere behind you. You took the opportunity to sneak away and check on your other customers while they talked, but you made sure to set Joel up with coffee before heading towards the other end of the counter, his eyes trailing after you and staring a moment too long on your bare legs.

"You givin' her the business?" Tommy asked, nodding in your direction, and Joel nearly choked on his coffee. Tommy raised his eyebrows.

"She's, uh... she's a nice girl," Joel finally managed to get out after wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"He's got the hots for her," Betty whispered to Tommy as she ambled by. Joel cleared his throat loudly and gave her a stern look, but she just laughed and kept walking.

"Oh, Joel, I'm beggin' you, don't screw this up for me. She's a real good waitress, I don't wanna lose her - "

"Would you keep it down?" Joel whispered, his eyes darting around to make sure you weren't within earshot. "I ain't gonna screw anythin' up for anyone, don't worry. She's just... nice."

"'Nice'," Tommy repeated, clearly not buying it. He was about to say more, but Joel straightened up in his seat and averted his gaze, trying to wordlessly warn him you were heading over.

"Sorry to interrupt. Are you ready, Joel?" you asked him, your pen and paper in hand. He looked up at you and it was hard to fight the goofy look on his face now that you didn't regard him with such disdain.

"Yeah, sure. Let's put this guy to work, huh?" Joel said, pointing to Tommy, and you giggled. Behind you, Tommy rolled his eyes. Nice.

Joel told himself he was only allowed to think about you on his walk back to the station after lunch. You had told Betty you weren't interested in dating anybody at the moment, but he could wait. He wondered if he could change your mind, if he could make you come around to the idea of being with him, or at least give him a chance. You definitely seemed much warmer towards him today. He must have been wrong yesterday, you really must be sensitive to smells if all it took was for him to stop using that obnoxious cologne Sarah got him that he felt too guilty to throw away.

"Hey boss, how was lunch?" asked Bobby, the town's deputy and Joel's right hand man.

"Good. Anythin' goin' on here?" Joel asked, shrugging off his blazer and hanging it on the coat rack outside his office.

"Not much. I was 'bout to let Ollie outta the drunk tank. His wife was callin', askin' after him," Bobby said before rising to his feet with a groan. Although the man was ten years younger than Joel, his joints seemed to be ten years older.

Joel glanced at the time on his watch with a nod.

"Yeah, go ahead. Third time this month, though. Next time it happens, I'm keepin' him longer."

"Alrighty," Bobby said over his shoulder as he pulled the keys from his pocket and headed back towards lockup.

Joel sighed and began flipping through the papers littering his desk before giving up and leaning back in his chair to stare out the front window, watching people as they walked past. Before he could stop himself, his mind had already wandered back to thoughts of you, and it took him five whole minutes and Ollie's hungover ramblings to snap him out of it.

Maybe Sarah would want to get pizza for dinner.

It was nearly seven at night as you made your way back home from work, your feet aching and your head throbbing. At the very least, it was a cool, summer night. The breeze was enjoyable and the sun was still peeking out just enough to keep your skin pleasantly warm. All you could think about was getting home and running a bath to soak your sore muscles. It had been a long time since you held a job, let alone a job that kept you as active as this one.

Patrick didn't like the idea of you working. When he first suggested you quit your job and stay at home, you thought it was sweet. You took it to mean he wanted to provide for you so you could relax and be a homemaker, maybe even a mom one day. But after a few months, you quickly realized he just didn't want you around other people, or more specifically, other men. Without even knowing it, you trapped yourself at home without a lifeline, and it was exactly what he wanted.

Even though you were sore now, you felt good. You were taking care of yourself. Providing for yourself. And you never felt more proud.

You were juggling your keys, trying to find the right one that opened the door to the sidewalk, when you heard a familiar voice exit the pizza place.

"Well, look who it is," you heard Joel say, and you let the keys dangle at your side as you turned around with a smile.

"Evening, Joel," you replied, your eyes quickly drifting down his body. It was the first time you had seen him in casual clothes. Every other time you ran into him, he was in his work uniform, which usually consisted of some type of suit. But tonight, he was wearing dark blue jeans and a beige button up shirt with short sleeves. As he strolled over to you, balancing a pizza box in his hand, your eyes were immediately drawn to the way the muscles in his arms strained against the fabric of the shirt, making your mouth go dry.

"Tommy finally let you leave, huh?" he joked, and you had to remind yourself to laugh, your mind still too fixated on the way he looked in that shirt.

"Dad?" you heard a girl's voice call behind him, and you both turned your attention towards the voice. You remembered your brief interaction at the pharmacy and realized that she must be Sarah. Her eyes flickered from you to Joel, then back to you, clearly waiting for Joel to introduce you, but he seemed frozen in place. So, you stretched out your arm and introduced yourself with a smile, which she reciprocated.

"You look familiar," she said, tilting her head to the side the same way her dad did.

"I think I saw you at the pharmacy a couple days ago," you reminded her, and she snapped her fingers.

"That's what it is," she said, giving you another smile. "Are you working for Uncle Tommy?" she asked, looking at Joel again, who was still standing there, unmoving, watching the two of you interact. She frowned slightly at him, picking up on his strange reaction as well, before giving you her attention again.

"Yeah, at the diner. He hired me earlier this week, brand new," you told her, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. Joel's silence was deafening at this point and starting to make you uncomfortable, so you held up your keys and pointed to the door.

"I won't keep you guys. It was great to meet you, Sarah," you said with a wave, but before you could turn towards the door, she stopped you.

"Why don't you join us?" she asked, shooting Joel a mischievous look as if she finally realized the reason for his behavior.

"Oh, no, that's so nice of you, but I'm just gonna jump in the bath and go to bed, it's been a long day," you replied. Joel's body stiffened next to you when you announced your plans.

Finally, he managed to clear his throat and speak.

"We'd love to have you join us, we were just gonna grab a picnic table out back," he said, and you swore his cheeks looked a little pinker than usual.

You were struggling to find another polite way to turn down their offer when he added "c'mon, why don't you lemme serve you for a change?"

Sarah smiled as she watched the two of you. She couldn't wait to tease her dad about it in the car later.

"Alright," you said slowly, lowering your keys once again. Joel's face broke out in a huge grin before leading you and Sarah down the short alley to the small courtyard behind the building, where there were a few picnic tables and string lights draped overhead.

"Are you sure I'm not intruding?" you asked again, and they both vehemently shook their heads.

"No way," Sarah said, licking the sauce off her fingers after she picked up her piece from the box. "It's nice to have another girl around for a change."

"Sarah," Joel said warningly under his breath.

"I just mean it's nice to hear about something else other than work and football," she said to him with a grin, and he rolled his eyes, choosing to sit on your side of the table instead of hers.

"So, you live above the pizza place? That seems pretty cool. Pizza whenever you want," she said, covering her mouth as she spoke. You swallowed your food before responding.

"Yeah, it is pretty convenient. And they actually have good pizza," you said. "I think I'm finally getting used to the smell."

Joel's knee accidentally knock against yours under the table and you had to fight the urge to jump away, the contact startling you.

Sarah asked the same questions everyone in this small town inevitably asked you when you first met: where are you from and why are you here? The first question was easy, the second one always gave you pause. It wasn't until Sarah asked that Joel suddenly realized you never really answered him when he asked the same question earlier that day, so he stopped chewing to pay attention.

"Just looking for a change," you said with a shrug, taking another bite of pizza. Sarah considered your answer for a moment before following up.

"Have you ever been here before?"

"Nope."

"So you just got in your car and ... drove?"

"Kind of," you said with a nervous laugh. Joel frowned slightly.

"That's so cool," Sarah said, a smile stretching across her face. "Dad, doesn't that sound so cool?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod, finally joining the conversation. "Do you got family down south or anythin'?"

"Uh, no," you said, shaking your head. "Just always heard it was nice down here so I thought I would see for myself."

"You think you're here for good, then?" he asked, his voice a little more hopeful than he wanted to come across.

"That's the plan," you said to him with a smile.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Sarah asked out of the blue, and your eyes darted back to her in surprise.

"No," you replied slowly, heat creeping up your neck and guilt dancing in the back of your head while Joel hid his grin behind his pizza. "Do you?" you deflected, raising your eyebrows at her with a smirk, and she giggled, shaking her head.

"You better not," Joel said, and the two of you laughed.

Over the rest of the hour, you listened to Joel and Sarah crack jokes and argue over what movie they would end up watching later that night and you felt the smile slowly begin to slip from your face as you came to the sobering realization that the type of dynamic they had, one that was so obviously built on love and trust, was something you never truly experienced before. It wasn't just something you saw in the movies or read in books. People in the real world actually got to experience it, and you couldn't help but feel a little jealous. Why not you? What did you ever do to receive the type of life you got?

After parting ways and thanking them over and over for dinner, you finally headed upstairs and collapsed on your small sofa. You untucked your work shirt and unzipped your skirt, but that was as far as you got, exhaustion winning the fight.

You closed your eyes and wished you had the energy to get up and run a bath, but you just couldn't bring yourself to do it yet. Instead, you let your mind wander, imagining a life where you could call out to someone who cared for you in the other room and ask them to run the water. Maybe they would surprise you and light a few candles and mix in some soothing bubble bath. You knew that would never happen. You could never let yourself be honest enough with anybody to allow them into your life, but it didn't stop you from wishing for it, anyway. And right before you drifted off to sleep, you imagined that certain somebody had dark brown eyes and soft curls on the top of his head that you were itching to run your fingers through.

As hard as you tried to keep to yourself, the town was very small, and eventually you found it was nearly impossible to keep from making connections with people. Whether it was through work at the diner or striking up a conversation with someone at the store, you were quickly becoming interwoven in the lives of the people who graciously accepted you as one of their own.

You were particularly becoming fast friends with the girl who worked the register at the pizzeria below your apartment. Her name was Hailey and she was a couple years younger than you, but you had a lot in common, one of which was a shared taste in the same movies and books, so you were excited when she invited you to join a book club she and a couple other women in town started. As much as you enjoyed talking about books, you found you also very much enjoyed listening to all the town gossip that inevitably came out after everyone had their first glass of wine.

"So, Nikki, did I hear Sam asked you out on a date?" an older woman named Martha asked. Nikki blushed when the group turned to her, some women poking her in the side and others murmuring excitedly under their breath.

"Yeah, but it's not a big deal," Nikki said, flicking her long, dark hair over her shoulder. She looked to be a little older than you were but it was hard to guess her age.

"Not back in town for two weeks and she's already got a date," Hailey said, rolling her eyes next to you playfully. "Some girls got all the luck."

"Oh, stop it," she chided with a smirk, then paused as if she were rethinking her next statement before blurting out "kind of wish someone else woulda asked me out instead."

That got the whole group's attention, even your own, and you barely had any idea who most of these people were. But you supposed any amount of gossip paired with alcohol is good gossip.

"Oh, please, you don't gotta say it, we all know who you've been chasin' after all these years," another woman chimed in with a giggle. Fortunately, you weren't the only person in the dark.

"Who?" Hailey asked, leaning forward eagerly.

"Joel, obviously," the other woman replied, and while the rest of the group groaned, everyone tossing in their two cents and offering up their favorite things about him, you remained frozen in your chair, blood running cold.

"Lord, he came into school last week to pick up Sarah, and the way his ass looked in those jeans..."

"Did I ever tell you about the time I nearly slipped on the ice and he caught me? Had to go to confession the next day..."

"... and I swear, I've considered committing a crime just so he would throw those handcuffs on me..."

"I don't know how that man has been single for so long..."

Part of you wanted to laugh at some of the things the women were saying about Joel, but the other part of you felt hot and angry. You wanted to scream shut up, don't think about him like that, don't even look at him. And through your alcoholic haze, you realized you were jealous. Jealous of all of these women, young and old, barking out comments about the town sheriff you had no business feeling jealous over.

The next day when he came into the diner for lunch, your head was still swirling with all of the comments the women in town made the day before. Distracted, you dropped your pen and pad on the ground as you made your way over to greet him, cursing under your breath.

Joel grinned when you finally approached, looking every bit as frazzled as you felt.

"Tough day?"

"Huh? Oh," you said nervously, tucking your hair behind your ear and shaking your head. "N-no, not really. Well, maybe - shit," you said when you knocked over a box of straws with your fidgeting.

Joel laughed and leaned back in his chair.

"What's got you all worked up?" he asked, and you felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

"Nothing," you said, shaking your head again, trying to focus. "What can I get for you?"

"Nuh uh, darlin', not so fast," he said with a tsk, and you sighed. "What's goin' on? You can tell me, y'know. I am a man of the law."

He meant it to be playful, but with your history, it had the opposite effect. You winced and swallowed the lump in your throat, and trying not to make matters worse, you caved.

"I went to a book club last night," you mumbled, and he raised his eyebrows.

"Book club, huh? Sounds like fun," he said, watching you carefully. "Maybe had a little too much fun?"

You finally dragged your gaze up to meet his and saw he was grinning at you, and you managed to force out a small laugh.

"Yeah, you could say that," you said, hoping that would be enough, but he wouldn't let it go.

"Can you get me a coffee? Then when I get back from the restroom, I wanna hear all 'bout your little book club," he said with a wink, then stood from his chair and turned around, heading towards the bathrooms while your gaze landed on his ass. It didn't look too bad in dress pants, either.

You tried to steady your breathing while you flipped over a clean mug and filled it with coffee, your mind racing and wondering what lies you could come up with to prevent telling him the reason you were so distracted.

Lost in thought with your head down, you didn't even notice when another customer took a seat at the counter until the man cleared his throat. You glanced up and apologized before bending down to grab another mug and set it down in front of the stranger.

You were pouring his coffee and telling him about the specials, your eyes glued to the counter, when he slid the barrel of a pistol across the table and into your line of sight. You froze, your hands gripping the coffee pot fiercely as you broke out into a cold sweat. You flicked your eyes back up to him. He didn't appear to be much older than you. He had his unkept hair hidden underneath his black hoodie, and you noticed his eyes looked bloodshot, his skin clammy. You knew that look. You've seen that same look one too many times.

"What do you want?" you whispered, your voice shaking.

"Open the register, gimme all the cash in this bag," he said quietly, tossing a tote bag across the counter at you. You nodded, grabbing the bag while your fingers fumbled with the buttons, desperately trying to remember how to open the drawer without a sale. You could sense he was growing frustrated with how long it was taking, and you felt the tears welling up in your eyes.

"I'm sorry," you sobbed quietly. "I-I'm new, I can't remember-"

"Hurry the fuck up," he growled, and you blinked rapidly, trying to clear your vision, the tears falling down your cheeks.

"Drop the fuckin' gun, Marcus," you heard Joel's voice call out, and a wave of relief coursed through your body. But Marcus got startled, and instead of doing as he was told, reached across the counter and grabbed you by the throat, pulling you against his chest to partially shield his body, the gun pressed against your temple as your fingers clawed at his arms.

You couldn't move. You couldn't breathe. Tears just streamed down your face as you locked eyes with Joel. They no longer carried that playful glint, his lips no longer turned up into a grin. His brow was furrowed deep and his gun drawn, cradled expertly in his large palms as his eyes shifted back to Marcus.

"I'm not lookin' to hurt anyone, sheriff. Just lemme walk outta here," Marcus rumbled behind you, his sour breath invading your nostrils and making your stomach roll.

"Now, you know I can't do that," Joel said, taking a small step forward. "But put down the gun, let her go, and we'll talk."

The grip around your throat tightened and you let out a small, pained squeak. Joel's jaw clenched when he heard the noise, his patience running thin. You hadn't noticed at the time, but the entire diner had gone quiet, some patrons slinking down in their seats, others craning their necks to get a better look.

"Goddamnit, Marcus, don't test me today," Joel growled, his eyes ablaze. "I don't wanna call your mama and tell her I had to spray her only son's brains all over the floor, but I fuckin' will." The tone in Joel's voice sent a shiver down your spine as you stilled, waiting for the stand off to be over.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the grip on your throat loosened and you no longer felt the cold metal pressed against your head. Joel locked eyes with you again as you coughed and shakily fell down to the floor behind the counter, curling yourself into a ball while you heard Joel reading Marcus his rights, the jingle of his handcuffs rang like bells in your ears.

Once Marcus was restrained, you heard Tommy bolt out of the kitchen and rush over to you. He knelt down on the ground, asking if you were okay, if you needed a doctor, concern lacing his voice but when he reached out to touch you, you flung yourself backwards violently, knocking the back of your head against the counter.

"Shit," you muttered, rubbing your head as fresh tears fell down your cheeks.

"Hey, easy now," Tommy said soothingly, glancing over the counter as Joel spoke on the phone with Bobby, ordering him to bring a car to take Marcus back to the station and book him.

"I'm fine," you whimpered, still rubbing your head as you shakily forced yourself to your feet. You watched as Joel marched Marcus to the front of the diner, his knuckles white from how hard he was gripping his shoulder as he directed him through the door. A few patrons clapped weakly as the two disappeared outside, and the diner filled with excited chatter once again.

"You alright, sugar?" Betty asked, suddenly appearing beside you, face etched with worry. You flinched and brought a shaky hand to your sore neck.

"Yeah, I just need to use the restroom," you said, and before anyone could say anything further, you tore off your apron and made a beeline for the women's room.

You locked the door behind you and slid down to the grimy floor, burying your face in your hands as you sobbed, the adrenaline wreaking havoc on your nerves.

It was too much. It was all too much. The look in Marcus's eye was one you saw too many times. A junkie in desperate need for a fix. A drunk who would say or do anything for another drink. The fingers around your neck were no longer there, but you still felt them squeezing every last bit of oxygen from your lungs, every tear from your eye until you could hardly breathe.

The door handle jiggled and you jumped, wiping furiously at your face before shouting out a shaky occupied!

"Hey, it's me," you heard Joel's voice say from the other side of the door. No longer did he have that hardened edge to his tone. The warmth and softness in his drawl had returned.

"I just need a minute," you said quietly after a long silence, and you heard him shift his weight.

"I know, but I - can you let me in?" he asked, and you could hear the concern in his voice. You slid your eyes shut as fresh tears drenched your face once again. You ached for comfort. You wanted it so badly you would do just about anything for it. But every other time, you've been let down. Over and over and over again.

"I just need a minute," you repeated, just a whisper, not even sure he could hear.

"Then I'll be right here til you're ready, alright?" his voice came back, even softer this time. You nodded, even though he couldn't see you. You heard him sit down against the door with a tired sigh, and you let your head tilt so it rested against the door. There was a small bit of comfort to be had when you knew only an inch separated you from him.

"You were real brave," he said after a few minutes of silence. You scoffed and wiped your nose.

"Is that why I'm crying on the floor of a bathroom?"

"Please don't cry," he said, his voice strained. But you didn't say anything in return.

"He wasn't gonna do nothin'. He's got troubles, is all. Bad habits get the best of him, but he's harmless," he said, trying to make you feel better.

"I don't know, these bruises on my neck say differently," you replied, and you heard his breath hitch. Then you heard his shoes scuff on the tile floor.

"Lemme see," he said, his voice firmer now. He was standing, his voice above you, waiting to be let in. You hesitated, the tone of his voice putting you on edge, but you knew you couldn't hide in there forever. With a trembling hand, you reached up and unlocked the door, then scurried backwards so you were pressed up against the opposite wall as he swung the door open and stepped inside. His gaze fell on you and his eyes went soft at seeing your wrecked state before clicking the door shut behind him.

He rushed forward and you flinched. A bad habit of your own. He paused and slowed his movements, crouching down in front of you instead. He lifted a hand to pinch your chin but you turned your face away.

"Will you show me?" he asked gently. You gazed up at him with red rimmed eyes, your knees pulled tight against your chest. Finally, you lifted your chin. Again, he reached a hand out, but you stopped him.

"Please don't touch," you whispered. He looked at you and nodded slowly, dropping his hand again, examining your bruises with only his eyes.

"Maybe you should see a doctor," he said after a few minutes, but you shook your head.

"I'll be fine, it's just sore," you said, and his gaze flicked up from your throat to your eyes. His lips parted the longer he stared at you, and you felt the tremor return to your hands. You couldn't look away, his gaze too magnetic.

"Don't like seein' you cry," he murmured, still gazing deep into your eyes, trying so desperately to read you.

"I cry all the time," you said without even thinking. He blinked and frowned. He was about to say something else when a gentle knock on the door interrupted him.

"You okay in there?" Maria called out. You sighed and stretched out your legs, standing up and waving off Joel's helping hand.

"We don't gotta do it today, but I'll need you to come by and give your statement sometime soon," he said, glancing down at you with a sympathetic look.

"Okay," you replied, your voice cracking a bit. You looked at one another, both of you wanting to say more but neither of you could. So you reached out to open the door, forcing a smile for Maria.

"Sorry," you told her meekly, and she laughed.

"You're sorry? You just had a gun pointed at your head and you're sorry?"

You laughed weakly, then stopped short in pain, your fingers brushing against your throat.

"I just wanted to bring you your purse so you could sneak out the back," she said, lifting your purse up and handing it over to you.

"But my shift-"

"Oh my god, take the day off," Maria said, shaking her head and grinning. "Think you earned it."

"Okay," you agreed, then turned to walk through the kitchen where you could leave out the back so no customers would gawk at you.

"Lemme walk you home," Joel's voice said, startling you. You had just assumed he went back out front.

"Don't you have to, you know... work?" you asked, floundering for the right word.

"He ain't goin' anywhere," Joel said, shoving his hands deep in his pockets as he walked by your side down the sidewalk.

The two of you walked quietly for a few minutes.

"I've never seen you like that before," you said, breaking the silence. He turned his head towards you, raising his eyebrows.

"Like what?"

"Like, all... cop-like," you said, chuckling at your terrible choice in words.

Joel grinned and glanced down at his feet.

"Yeah, well, job's not all inappropriate graffiti and speed traps."

You hummed in agreement as you kept walking.

"Do you have to unholster your service weapon often?"

"'Service weapon'?" he repeated, surprised at the term you chose. Although it wasn't wrong, it typically was not something most people said. You just looked at him, not acknowledging it, so he let it go.

"Uh, no, not really," he said, biting the inside of his cheek.

"Oh," was all you said, taking a deep breath and continued to stare straight ahead. He watched you from the corner of his eye for a moment.

"When I came outta the bathroom and saw - " he stopped short, then rubbed his lower lip with the pad of his thumb as he collected his thoughts. "You were scared. And I... reacted."

You glanced his way again, but he kept his eyes focused straight ahead. What was he trying to say?

"Thank you," you said softly, but he was quick to shake his head.

"Not lookin' for you to thank me," he said, finally allowing his gaze to drift back to you, giving you a small smile.

When you finally reached your apartment, you took out your keys and turned to him, ready to thank him again, even though he told you not to, but he spoke first.

"Here, why don't you take this," he said, holding out a small white card between his index and middle finger. You gingerly took it and flipped it over, reading the text on the other side.

"It's my card. Call me when you wanna stop by the station," he reminded you, and you nodded.

"My cell's on there, too. If you ever, y'know," he said, half a smirk playing on his lips as he nervously shifted his weight. "You ever wanna talk 'bout anythin', really. 'Bout what happened today, or... book club," he said, and you laughed. He grinned, relieved to finally see you smile again.

"Okay," you said with a nod, and turned to put the key in the lock.

He watched as you made your way all the way up the steps, and didn't leave until he saw the second door at the top of the stairs close firmly behind you.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77 @nandan11 @anoverwhelmingdin @fandomscollide @survivingandenduring

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller series #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #sheriff!joel #waitress reader #STR fic

[neo-nomatrix]

Belong

Yandere!Miguel O’hara x reader

synopsis: Miguel saved you from a collapsing universe, and he will do anything to make sure you stay.

word count: 664

warnings: DARK CONTENT!!! Miguel is extremely obsessive and a yandere. he gaslights and manipulates reader.

a/n: first time writing content like this, i hope it’s good

The space, or home as Miguel likes to call it, he keeps you in is nicer than you want. It’s too nice, so nice that if you told anyone you were unhappy they would probably laugh in your face. You have a beautiful “home” , a handsome husband, and a wonderful life with no worries. You’re living the dream. Yet, your life is anything but a dream. If you had realized what you were getting yourself into you would’ve stopped a long time ago.

Miguel was perfect when you first started dating. A gorgeous, kind, caring man with aspirations for greatness. He promised you a life of no worry and loved you unconditionally. You didn’t know that he was hiding something so terrible it could hurt your world as you knew it.

You try your best to forget what happened, Miguel does his best to force you to forget. As much as you try you can’t forget the image of your daughter and your home collapsing in front of you. On bad days, days were Miguel gets too angry you stay in bed thinking about your life before everything happened. You pretend like you still have your daughter, like you still have the old Miguel. Of course, he hates those days. He despises when you stay in bed, eyes staring at nothing. He hates it when your voice gets hoarse and your temper gets short with him. This is one of the days he hates.

“I’m trying to talk to you nicely. I want to talk things out and discuss this like civilized adults, mi vida. But you just don’t get it do you?”

“Don’t get it?! What is there to get?! You keep me trapped up here and i fucking hate it!” You scream at him.

“I’m doing this to protect you. The world is so dangerous and this is the only way to keep you safe. I do this because i love y-” he tries to say before you cut him off.

“Love me? You love me? This isn’t love, it’s an obsession! Don’t you get it?” You snap at him.

You’re breathing heavily as his eyes turn bloodshot red. His hands clench beside him as he turns around. You know that if he looked at you he would hurt you.

“Don’t say that. I do love you. More than you can understand. Don’t you see everything I do for you?” He slowly gets closer to you, backing you into a wall and you slide to the ground trying to hide yourself.

“I have only ever loved and cherished you. And yet, you treat me like this? I’ve made mistakes, we all have! Don't make me into the bad guy because I care about you,” he says. His voice is so calm yet so venomous.

“I just-” You try to say before his fist strikes against the wall behind you. You let out a shriek as you quickly cover your mouth with your hand.

“you just what? You just thought you could treat me like shit and get away with it?!” His voice becomes louder.

“I’m sorry, Miguel. I'm sorry. I didn’t mean it,” you try to say, your voice shaking out of fear.

He kneels down next to you, hand reaching for your face before you flinch away. In the next second he grabs at your jaw with a strong hand, pulling you closer to him like a doll.

“You’re sorry?” He raises a brow. You nod as a response.

“Tell me then,” he says calmly, you already know what he’s talking about.

“I love you, Miguel,” you say, eyes peering up to his.

“I love you most, mi vida,” he says, giving you a soft kiss to the lips.

Maybe he does love you, in his own sick and twisted way. You can only hope his love for you can protect you from him.

#spiderverse x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #spiderman atsv x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman x reader #x reader #x female reader #miguel o’hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman x y/n #spiderman 2099 x reader #tw yandere

[haztory]

['sex' by the 1975]

⤷ atsumu miya x f!reader; best friends, references to infidelity, pining, sexual content (w.c 3.1k)

“it’s not sex.” he insists between mouthfuls. a drop of mustard dots the corner of his mouth. you stare incredulously.

“are you joking?” you ask. atsumu just shrugs his shoulder, intense focus saved for the burger held in his hands. practically inhaling a third of it in one bite as he brings it up to his mouth.

“‘s not like it’s the real thing.” he bobs his head side to side in consideration of the sandwich before he’s grabbing at the fries in your lap, “can i haf some.”

the carton lays practically emptied from his pilfering next to your abandoned chicken nuggets. three remaining, absent of consumption in favor of a bewildered stare at the man seated beside you on his bed. 

“fingering is penetration, that’s sex.” you say simply.

atsumu raises a brow, “yer gyno having sex with ya?”

“that’s different.” you level a stare at him, one that’s serious and fierce and that communicates everything you mean in the single look alone. he meets it with one of his own, familiarity and uncommunicated languages all the rage between the two of you. “she doesn't make me cum.”

“neither does yer boyfriend.” he shrugs, taking another large bite of his burger as you screech in offense. your hand meets his bicep with a sharp slap and he grabs at it in pain. “ow! ya were the one that told me that!”

”some people take a minute to figure it out.”

”sounds like its taking a lot longer than a minute.” he mutters to himself. “look, its a lost cause. just dump the guy before it gets anywhere. ya haven’t had sex yet, he’s got a weird face, dude cant tell a fake orgasm from a real one. why are ya fighting me on this?”

“fingering is sex! your body count would be zero if fingering didnt count.” you insist loudly and atsumu rolls his eyes. he crumples the foil his burger came in and throws it across the room, cheering loudly when it makes it into the bin in the corner of his room. 

his room is much the same since the last time you visited. photos of passing years sit framed on the desk— an image of he and osamu with their arms wrapped around each other, taken right before atsumu left for the olympics. another of you and atsumu placed right next to it, you leaning over his shoulder and him laughing loudly, beer bottles held deftly in hands and drunken flushes decorating your faces. momentos of faded high school memories, interspersed with flashes of young adult realities. 

its more sophisticated than it once was. minimal in furniture, and of the items that decorate the room they’re the perfect reflection of a twenty-four year old athlete. his closet is lined with designer gifted clothes, but his desk chair remains stacked with undone laundry, the basics of his everyday life found in the plush cushion more than on the hangers. the jacket you’re currently wearing was stolen from the top of that pile just after delivering a pointed comment at how cold he keeps his apartment. 

its a far cry from the bedroom he used to share with his brother, the one you remember at the dusk of previous memories. it was cramped and contained, lines between the two boys constantly blurred and you having to learn rather quickly where to step and when. but even now, as he lives on his own in a city a bit further from you than you’re comfortable with, not much has changed. you still sit on the left side of the bed and he takes the right; you still eat burgers on his bed and steal his jackets, and he throws papers into trash bins and insists he could’ve made it professional were he not already in volleyball; you still moan and complain about the woes of daily life and he still listens to them endlessly, interjecting the same amount of dumb enthusiasm as you know him to have. 

there is still much in common that remains between he and you. trusted familiarity, endless comfort; a bubble that remains whole and precious, unaltered despite life dealing its hand to you. you’re convinced there’s no one else in the world that gets you quite like atsumu does. 

there’s also no one in the world that works you up, quite like atsumu does.

atsumu stands from the bed, retrieving your own trash from your lap and chucking the rest of it in the bin. lithe and lean, he moves with a body that is sculpted to perfection as he turns off the overhead light and instead turns on the desk lamp, submerging the room in the lowly warmth of its glow. days are shorter now and the sun has just made it return home, leaving you to the dim luster of a pleasant comfort. 

its quiet, intimate. words entirely inappropriate to describe the weekly hangout with your best friend of seven years. 

pushing thoughts aside, you fight to remember what the whole point of the conversation was about. a boyfriend, right. your boyfriend.

right. 

“and he does not have a weird face, he’s just… interesting. it’s what i liked about him.” 

“revolting. i’m this close to spiking a ball in his face. it would be plastic surgery for the dud.”

“you’re being mean.” you tell him. 

atsumu scoffs loudly, “and yer being stupid! yer the one that’s complaining to me about it. yer really gonna date a guy who can’t figure it out when he fingers ya? what happens when ya actually have sex with the bozo?”

“it takes practice. i don’t blame him for not being able to get me there on the first try. i see him later tonight so i’ll talk to him about it. it’s hard to figure out how to turn someone on and then try to, you know, get me there—“

“woahwoahwoah—timeout.” atsumu hold his hands perpendicular to one another, forming a ‘t’. his eyebrows practically touch the hairline of his bleached hair. “he doesn't even turn you on?”

“not everyone is good at everything, like you.” you mean it sarcastically, but it comes out short and meek. it’s embarrassing to have to cover for the misgivings of your current beau, but there’s an obligation to. a point to make, especially to the man in front of you. 

you’ve met the ex-girlfriends, heard their feedback for the man before you. an average of six out of ten in boyfriend material, but he knocks the ball out of the park when it comes to the bed—or so you’ve heard. 

(aya, the most recent girl to have made her grand exit, followed you on instagram and asked you to not be a stranger. whether that was so she could have her in for atsumu or because she really wanted to be friends is still up for debate, but the gesture ended with a message in your directs.

[9:17] it sucks, he’ll always be more in love with volleyball than any girl he could ever date. and even if he didn’t, you’re his number two anyway, so there’s really no way i can win.

[9:20] i’m super sorry, aya. if it’s any consolation, i really liked you two together. he’s just slow, i’m sure you guys will figure it out.

[9:20] you were our biggest argument. 

[9:20] so no, i don’t think we will.

[9:21] i’ll miss that dick tho, best orgasm of my life. rip

there’s not much you can say to a message like that. there’s not much you can say to the surge of smugness that courses through you either, so you don’t.

you don’t tell atsumu about it.)

“alright. sit up then.”

his voice startles you. “what?” 

suddenly, he stands before the side of the bed, looming horribly tall over you as he peers down at you. he shoves his hands in the pockets of his gray sweatpants, the fabric unintentionally pulling down ever so slightly and the waistband of his black boxers peeking out in greeting. the light of the desklamp casts a halo over his silhouette.

your attention is drawn upward and it’s hard to deny the familiar pang that tends to strike through you every so often in times like this. the simple effect of being near him. atsumu is unfairly handsome, and while it’s hard to put a name to the feeling that pulses inside of you when the light catches him just right or when a smile is even more charming than usual, the ache is always the same.

it’s fleeting, you convince yourself. something you refuse to settle on for too long. contexts and suppressed hopes pushed to the back of your mind along with the other unspoken things.

“come on.” he gestures two fingers upward. “i’ll show ya how easy it is to turn a girl on.”

its curiosity that has you standing up on your knees on the comforter, nothing more. its the wonder of how exactly your best friend makes his move on women that leads you to be so close to him, chests practically touching. breaths intertwining as atsumu stares a kind of serious into you that you’ve never been in the receiving end of before.

“im gonna touch ya.” his voice is low and your heart beats erratically in your chest. you nod. 

lifting his right hand, cold fingertips run across the heated skin on the back of your arm. digits trailing upward as he paints a pathway up. and it’s nothing—just his hand on your arm, nothing new or different, and yet your breath hitches. innocent in theory, but something solidifies on atsumu’s face, the familiar signs of determination playing out on his face. it’s less babied now, more formed and angular with the growings of an adult man, but it’s the same focus in his eye, the same clench in his jaw. 

his fingers trail up then down, repeating a circular figure on your skin. the sounds of your mingling breaths the only whispers between you two. your eyes dart down to his lips, but his stay fixed on you. studying every flicker of your eye, every inhale. 

his fingers break from their pattern and trails down to your wrist, then your palm, then your own fingers. tracing them, dancing with them, intertwining them slightly only to pull them away. 

“we should stop.” you whisper after a moment of his caress.

“why?” he asks and a quick glance to his gaze reveals that he knows why. he’s just making you spell it out.

it’s unfortunate that the only reason you want to stop is out of principle, and not because you truly have any reservations about any of this. your boyfriend of three months all but an annoying buzz in your ear.

“this feels like cheating.” you tell him simply. atsumu cocks his head to the side, charming smirk pulling across his lips. 

“i’m touching yer arm. this isn’t anything, yet.”

“you shouldn’t be touching my arm like this.”

“why? cause it’s working, right?” his voice drops to a low rumble, words vibrating through you and shooting straight to your core. “see how easy it is?”

“that means this is cheating then, right?” the question is posed, but it’s obvious it’s more to convince yourself than him. because all that he’s done is touch your arm and you’ve felt the bubbling of that unnamed something heat within you. it feels the exact same as it did seven years ago when you met him; feels identical to the moment four years ago when a drunken night led to a drunken kiss that was forgotten about the next day; feels the exact same whenever he looks at you like he does now, like you're open for the taking. a pointedly very different response to the dread that comes when getting intimate with your actual boyfriend. 

and while atsumu may be doing this to prove a point, to rub it in your face that he was right and you were wrong, you don’t trust that you’ll be able to not carry this with you. to not want more than you should. 

“nah.” he says simply, knowingly. “if i kiss you then it’s a problem.”

“oh, so kissing is cheating, but fingering isn’t?”

“can you shuddup? always runnin’ that damn mouth.” he renders you quiet. 

satisfied with your silence, he brings his left hand to cup your jaw, thumb and index finger grasping your chin and tilting your head to the left, leaving your neck exposed. he leans in, nose tracing a line up the column of your neck until he meets the juncture between that and your jaw. it’s a simple movement, and yet it feels like eternity in his hands. his breath hits steadily against the expanse of your cheek as he whispers into your ear.  “does he touch ya like this?” 

the gasp you release is guttural.

the arm previously fiddling with your fingers quickly wraps around your waist, pulling you flush to him. you have no choice but to embrace him with your own arms, hands cupping the back of his neck to steady yourself. it’s impulse to run them down the expanse of his back, to feel the muscles that he’s worked so hard for, but you resist. keeping yourself locked on his neck and nothing more, as though you being pliant to his ministrations wasn’t jeopardizing enough.  

his thumb inches upward, stroking the corner of your lips sweetly. “does he take his time with ya? cause i would.” 

its then that his lips meet the skin of your neck, tingles erupting from the connection. all of its effects causing an inadvertent clench within you. “it’s not about shoving fingers inside and just doing it. its about doing it the way you like it. and i’d make ya tell me how ya like it. since yer always runnin’ that damn mouth, might as well put it to good use.”

its all-encompassing, the traitorous burn between your thighs. and yet, this is the unnamed something, all that you’ve pushed away.

“astumu—” you whine and its in that exhale of yours that he releases a sigh of his own. one that almost sounds restrained.

“tell me to stop.” he says quickly, lips mouthing against your neck as he utters the words. 

and you don’t want him to. not really. the desire is feverish, unlike anything you’ve felt before and to end this is to end the sweetness of something you’ve yet to taste. if it were to be with anyone you would want it to be with him.

you could take the teasing, the “i-told-you-so” from osamu, the obliteration of a friendship for the uncertain promise of something more. but it isn’t right. not like this. if mountains were to come to a head, you want it to happen because they were gravitated to each other, not because the earth told them to do so.

“stop.” you tell him, and it’s like a hot brand that strikes him. he’s immediately pushing away from, untangling his limbs from you and stepping back into the swath of darkness in the room. 

his breaths are deep and heavy, that much you can tell from the distance. shuttering exhales that wrack his chest. you can hardly make out his irises, only see the intensity of dark pupils. it’s hard to believe that he could be feeling the way you do, just from the simple touch alone. a quick glance down to his grey sweatpants proves otherwise. 

a moment, then two, pass by. ragged breaths filling the distance, words spoken in the silent language you’re both fluent in. 

“does this mean i’m easy then?” you ask quietly, an effort to ease the wall of tension. 

“no.” he shakes his head gently, “just means i know ya.”

he knows what he means to say, the words and all of their yearning practically knocking against his teeth to escape. it’s the long haul, almost a decade long game of carefully advanced chess pieces to get to this point. blocked, temporarily, by the appearance of the new guy. a boyfriend of yours that atsumu met once, a guy he barely attempted to learn the name of. for reasons of his own, their knowing pertinent only to him. held deeply within the urges of being seen, the desires of having you wholly, completely.

there are plenty of other ways that he could do this—probably be more eloquent about it. admit pushed away feelings when you’re not in the midst of ranting about how your boyfriend just can’t get you off. 

but the tension irks him. thick enough to cut a knife, always following the two of you in the long held stares and closeness in which you two gravitate towards each other. the answer to your boyfriend problem is standing right in front of you. he knows what he wants you to do when you see your boyfriend later tonight. 

there are certain shoes that atsumu is convinced he could fill better than your boyfriend.

your face is flushed, and the desk lamp makes you look angelic under the lowlights, and you're wearing his jacket like you always do in a way that makes him believe it was always meant for you. and he’s not entirely convinced, even without the cloud of lust that hangs over him, that you don’t want this just as bad as he does.

osamu once said that atsumu wouldn’t admit his feelings to you even if they hit him over the head. they’re here, now. settling in the distance between you two, bobbing in the capsizing waves of want. they ache to be spoken, knock repeatedly against his gritted teeth. 

but a choice is made in that moment, with you looking at him as wild as you are. atsumu will admit to the selfish and prideful part of himself, but this—you— aren’t something to just take. the taste of your neck, the feel of your body against him, it must be given to him, earned. not because he needs to make a petty point, but because you want him to. 

he cares for you too much to be reckless in how he plays his cards. even if osamu will bust his balls for it later.

you have a boyfriend. and he can’t force you to change that. it wouldn’t be right, he’s given you the taste, he hopes it will be enough.

“like that.” he says after a moment, pushing down his pride and long held desires for you. “tell him ya like it like that.”

a/n: why is it that whenever i stop writing for kuroo, the one i always want to write for is atsumu. also big ups for my beta who entertains me and proofreads me at all hours of the day. i love you sanju!!!!!!

#miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #atsumu #atsumu fic #i love a best friends trope wtf #also i promise i was writing my boss kuroo fic and then i heard this song and was derailed for THREE DAYS #BIG THANK YOU BY THE WAY TO MY BETA

[orangekittyenergy]

Indulgent Desires

(sorry for the repost if you already read/saw this just moving things around)

NSFW Gale Smut Fic

Tags: NSFW, 18+ only, masturbation, hand jobs, Gale fluff and some angst but mostly smut, Gale POV, non described Tav (aside from she/her pronouns but no mention of genitals)

Words: 4000

Info: After the orb is stabilized, Gale realizes he can indulge fully in certain pleasures he had to deny before. (Set after they meet Elminster but before the love scene)

Read below or directly on AO3

---

Gale lay in his tent, sleep altogether eluding him, as it often did as of late. Despite his words of reassurance to Tav, he didn't feel nearly as comfortable with the edict from Mystra as he projected. It was one thing to contemplate ones death for so long, but to be faced with the absolute certainty of it was, well, it was something else entirely. He knew this damned orb would ultimately be his demise, and he wasn't lying when he said he was happy he could use his predicament to save everyone. But.... he couldn't help but feel a sharp sting of regret. Why now? Why did this have to happen now of all times? A month ago he felt quite ready for death; he would've leapt at the chance to earn forgiveness, and additionally going out as a hero in the annals of history- what more could one have asked for?

But for one very specific wrench in this acceptance now. Tav. He'd seen the way her eyes flashed as Elminster spoke. Thankfully she was tactful enough to hold her tongue; but he could tell from her clenched jaw it hadn't been easy. She had been curt in her responses but very insistent that this was not the solution and there would be opportunity still to find another way.

When she approached him after to discuss he could almost see the ghost of grief in her eyes as she struggled to comprehend what this meant through their conversation. Asking every question she could seemingly think of and explore every avenue. But even as her emotions still flared, her last words echoed in his head.

She had stepped close, placing a hand on his arm gently. Her eyes were brimming with what he thought at the time was anger but as he mused on it, he realized it was something else, something she hid inside that he couldn't place.

"You are not going to blow yourself up, Gale. I won't let you." She said, her voice tense, with a steely resolve that almost cracked through his own carefully crafted veneer of acceptance.

That was hours ago. Now he lay back in his tent, scared and alone - again.

Tav. She had always been there for him. From the very start she showed no hesitation in helping with his condition, always provided him with the utmost care and warmth. When she said they would find another way, she was so certain of it that he almost dared to believe her. After all, if she kept up with the spell lessons he had been attempting to give her, she could certainly take on any foe. With a lurch his mind leapt back to the first time they connected in the weave; the image in her mind, as clear as if it had been reality. It felt like ages ago now but he recalled it as distinctly as if it had happened yesterday. A soft tender kiss. Giving way to eager tongues and warm breath and roaming hands.

Gale sucked in a deep breath, sleep well and truly gone from any corner of his mind as deeper thoughts took hold.

Tav. The way she ambled up to him at the party, her face blushed slightly as she tried to dance delicately around her own flirtations. A coy bite of her lip and twinkle in her eye looking at him, as he finally realized her intentions and was forced, with a heavy heart and a pain in his chest, to turn her away.

Would he get another chance again with her? He thought, he could swear at least, that she still gave him lingering glances before heading to bed each night. Or was that the workings of his own greedy imagination? Their route had turned more perilous than ever and they hadn't had the same chance for any of their usual lighthearted conversations as of late. Exhaustion and battle weariness finally taking over as they succumbed to sleep each night. Each of them really, stumbling to their own tents at night, too weary to make much conversation as they prepared to face a new set of horrors the next day. Tav though, Tav always seemed to make time for conversation, checking in with everyone, and he thought – or hoped - specifically him, before heading to bed herself.

His body stirred with a delicious sensation before his mind even realized what was happening. It was such a strange, distant, but familiar feeling. Desire like this. As if something from a half forgotten dream. The tingling started in his gut and before he knew it had settled into his very core and he felt a stirring in his cock.

Once he realized what it was his first instinct, as always, was to push it away; desires like that were previously vastly overshadowed by the pain of the orb. And even when the orb felt sated, he was still always too worried about it's condition and the consequences of indulging in such self pleasure to tempt fate. Even once his feelings for Tav had taken hold in his mind, his situation and their current predicament left no room for any hint of such a pleasure. But his body still stirred. He was half hard before he fully realized; the orb was sated. Truly this time. He felt no pain, no angry rumblings, no lingering worry about accidentally setting anything off. Nothing now holding him back from any such gratification.

Without fully intending too, he let his mind drift back to Tav. A rushing flood of memories of her that he had pushed away all coming back at once. Her exposed thigh as Shadowheart healed a nasty cut on her leg. A chance encounter in the river by the Grove catching a glimpse of her naked back and wet hair. Her bending over to search her pack, her tunic dropping scandalously low. Her eyes, flashing brightly at him at the end of each battle, checking to see that he was safe. The thing that truly aroused him though, was the memory of just earlier that night. Her delicate touch on his arm. Her caring eyes searching his. Her resolve that this wouldn't be the end.

It wasn't anger in her eyes, he realized, it was compassion. Dare he think….love? Her eyes had streaked with internal fire at her deep desires for him, he thought. Or was that his own lust and his now throbbing cock speaking? Safely alone in his tent, did it truly matter?

He reached down, tentatively at first, still not sure how this would go, and unlaced his trousers. He pulled up his tunic a touch as well and eased his hardness out of his pants. He was more grateful now than ever at the brilliant foresight and blessings that they had their own tents to retreat to at the end of the night.

Mind firmly set on Tav, the look of her gazing at him fondly, he ventured his hand down again, wrapping his palm slowly around his own length. The immediate sensation was almost too much to handle, his mind frying as if he'd been shocked at finally being able to indulge in such base urges. In his mind, Tav leaned close, her lips hovering above his before crashing together. His hand firmly on himself he gave a gentle pump up and down, trying to savor the sensation.

It wasn't indulgent; he told himself, sucking in a sharp gasp at the feeling of his warm palm as he continued to slowly stroke his length. If Tav did care for him as much as he dared to dream, he couldn't have his first time in ages with a woman, let alone a woman he felt so strongly for, end so quickly. And it surely would with how pent up he was. This was merely preparation. With just a minor hint of indulgence.

He imagined himself and Tav as they continued to explore each other's mouths, pulling away only briefly to undress. He pieced together how he thought she would look like naked from the brief glances he had gotten, letting his own imagination fill in the gaps. It wasn’t even a clear image, but he knew she was immaculate.

He felt a dribble of his own seed leaking out of the tip and paused a moment there, giving his tip a few soft squeezes and pumps before moving back down, spreading his own precum across his cock as he pumped harder. His base instincts taking over, pumping and feeling and squeezing without thinking; getting reacquainted with the veins and ridges of his own cock. Finally allowing himself to give in fully to this experience.

He pressed his lips together hard, determined not to make a noise aside from the inevitable rustling of fabric. But as his fantasy Tav peeled off the last layers of her clothes and approached him once more, his strokes picked up the pace again and he felt a groan escape his lips. Had he any foresight on how this night would go he would've thought to take preparations, cast silence or darkness or anything to allow him to fully invest himself into this. But as it was, he was too far gone now to cast a thing and far too deep in his fantasy to stop now.

In his mind again he whispered sweet nothings in Tav’s ear as he explored her newly naked body with roaming hands. Imagining all at once that it was her hand wrapped carefully around his aching erection. Her hand furiously pumping up and down. Her hand that twisted slightly now as it pumped, adding another carefully crafted level to his pleasure.

"Tav." He couldn't help but moan out, his mind blurring the line between fantasy and reality at these practically new sensations. How long had it been since he felt such flesh on flesh contact? Even his own. He began to thrust his hips up slightly as well, adding to the pace of his trembling hand, growing delirious with his evolving fantasy. He could picture her face so clearly, lips partly slightly, eyes shining at him, picturing her as he thrust his cock upwards into his fist with reckless abandon. He started to feel a pull in his very core, a feeling he was all too familiar with, albeit not under these circumstances. A hot warmth building in his balls as he continued to stroke himself furiously. His body close to reaching that delightful peak.

"Tav..." he groaned again; his own indulgent desires clogging any leftover sense of caution. He wanted to hold on, wanted to make this fantasy last, but was too close to the edge. He would spill his own seed calling her name and it would be the most welcome relief from all the built up tension he had felt.

Just as he was ready to succumb, he heard an unmistakable shuffle outside his tent. A footstep. The sound of someone moving. He froze, his blood running cold. How could he not notice a noise earlier? His pulse throbbed in his ears as he strained to hear in the new silence, his fantasy lost, his fist still paused halfway down his cock. An aching moment passed and he wondered if he had imagined it.

"Gale?" Her tender voice called through the folds on his tent.

A string of curses he didn't even know he knew flew through his mind as he released his hand and struggled to compose himself enough to answer. He frantically started to tuck himself away, his stubborn erection refusing to waiver even at the thought of being caught.

"Ahem...um..yes, Tav?" He replied, his voice hoarse. The woman he was just furiously masturbating to was standing outside his tent; the gods truly had cursed him, he thought.

"Can I come in?" She said quietly and he realized, through the fog and panic it must still be late; the others asleep. Why was she here now? Did she hear him? Had he been louder than he thought?

"Yes, of course." He cleared his throat again, successfully tucking his still hard cock away and sitting up, hoping to hide the obvious nature of his predicament with his loose tunic. You fool, why didn't you just not answer or send her away? He chastised himself. But even as the words entered his mind he realized he couldn't do that. Not to her. He had sent her away too many times already. He wouldn’t do it again. Not with their time left together so short.

After a moment she ducked into his small tent, the subsequent crack in the fabric allowing the campfire to provide a small amount of illumination inside.

"Sorry," she said, a little louder now that she was securely inside, "I hope I'm not.... bothering you." She finished and Gale wondered again if she had heard him.

"No, no, you could never be a bother to me." He sucked in a quick breath, trying again to regain composure and still his rapidly beating heart. "I wasn't even sleeping. Just laying here with my thoughts." Well, he mused, it wasn't a total lie. Tav seemed to hesitate before speaking again.

"I just, I felt bad...leaving things like I did. I didn't want you to think that I don't respect your choice, or your feelings, because I do." She said quickly and edged closer. In spite of the situation he couldn't help but smile, feeling touched that she was worried about how she might have spoke with him. In the dim light, he scooted to the side, allowing her room should she wish to sit on his bedroll.

She took the invitation and stepped forward, taking a seat next to him on the bedroll. His bed. His bed where moments before he was pleasuring himself to her visage. He quietly shook the thought from his head and again tried to calm his rapidly increasing heart rate. She obviously came here to say something important to him. Fully settled, he turned more to face her, still acutely aware of his blood rushing through his veins and offering silent thanks for the darkness to hide his still very active erection.

“I…” He started and paused, taking a thick swallow. “I’ll have you know, your words were of great comfort to me. I didn’t once think you didn’t heed my choice, difficult as it is, and I truly...do appreciate how much you care.” He managed out. He found himself suddenly cursing the darkness, where seconds before he had thanked it; he wanted to see her face now, see how she was looking at him.

He sensed her movement before even being able to see it, and felt her reach up and cup his cheek. He leaned his face into her hand, nuzzling her palm for a second, wondering if he was still dreaming.

“Gale….I just...I don’t want to lose you.” She whispered and he could feel her breath on his face and realized she was close enough to see even in the low light. He wanted to speak again, reassure her, offer the same words of comfort he soothed himself with before but couldn’t find them now.

Before he could come up with any words at all he saw her face move closer and felt her lips ghost against his. Now he was certain he must be dreaming; lost in a fantasy so stark and deep he hoped he would never wake up. Pushing aside lingering hesitation or worry he had been struck mad, already in the thick of the moment, he closed the gap between them, pressing his lips firmly against hers and for the second time in the night, feeling like he could burst from the contact.

There was no further discussions or hesitation, their mouths both parted eagerly and he couldn’t tell who slipped a tongue in first but just as quick as it started they were kissing deeply and passionately, devouring each other with their mouths. Months of desire and waiting dissolving into their kiss.

Tav slid her hand off his cheek and onto his chest, giving him a gentle push of encouragement to lay down. His heart again beat a heavy and rapid pulsing in his chest as he leaned back, head positively spinning at the new development. He half-expected her to crawl on-top of him as he stretched his legs out, but found her sliding her body down next to his. He turned his head to the side to meet hers, aching at the momentary lapse in contact and desperate to get his lips on hers again; now that he had felt the real thing there was no going back.

She lay on her side next to him as their lips met again and he tried to savor the feeling and not think too hard about all the steps that led him to this specific moment. He felt her push her hips against him, angling her body half onto his and hooking her leg over his thigh. Her hand roved downwards, crossing his thrumming chest and pausing just above his navel.

Gale took a sharp breath in through the kiss, realizing where her hand might be heading, but making no move to stop her. As she edged her hand down she finally broke away from the kiss, allowing him to suck in a few ragged deep breaths he so desperately needed. Tav pressed her wet kisses into his cheek instead and he thought he felt her smiling into his skin with each kiss.

Her hand finally reached its purchase, his unavoidable still aching cock yearning to be freed again after being so painfully denied release. She tentatively gave it a stroke through the fabric he had hastily tucked it back into. Gale felt a powerful shudder roll through his whole body and couldn’t help but let a soft moan escape his lips.

He hadn’t even had the chance to lace back up and Tav made quick work of the loose fabric and tangle of laces and pulled his cock back out of the edge of his pants. She nestled her face into her neck, resting her head half on his shoulder as he turned his head back to face upwards, hoping he didn’t cum at the barest of her touches.

His breath hitched in his chest as she finally wrapped her own warm palm around him, her soft touch holding him gently and feeling his pulse beneath her. As indulgent as his own flesh was, as good as it felt to merely imagine her palm on his cock; it paled in comparison to the actual feeling of her. As she started to ease her fist gently up and down him he bit down hard on his lip and tried to focus his brain on not releasing that same instant, the same lingering feeling still simmering in his core.

Gale was well trained in concentration, whether on the battlefield or in practice, he had plenty of experience exerting a certain level of mental fortitude and holding himself steady. But he quickly realized that holding concentration on a spell and staving off this burning feeling bubbling within him were two entirely different skill sets.

Tav leaned her head in again to give his neck a quick nibble and started pumping her hand up and down him in earnest. He leaned his head back towards her again, wanting to feel her her lips on his again, even if they were trembling, but he wanted her as close as she could be as she finished him. Decorum fully lost under this fantasy become reality, he felt himself thrust his hips upwards with her hand, fucking her fist with a greedy need that surprised himself.

She swiped her hand over his tip, collecting the cum gathering there and gave it a quick flourish of attention with a playful squeeze and he knew he was done for. Their lips grazing, breath mingling, he felt his body again reach its limits. The heat that had been building within shot upwards in divine explosion.

Gale couldn’t help but cry out, letting loose a few strangled chokes as he came in her hand, spilling his seed on her fist and loose pants. He reached his hand over his chest, grabbing at her cheek, holding her close while his body shuddered and the delightful waves of pleasure crashed through him, still letting loose a few final moans as his cock stopped pulsing. 

His chest pounded hard, but for the first time in a long time, it was a pleasurable feeling as a level of relaxation he didn’t think was possible anymore took hold of his body. Every inch of him seemed to calm and ease and he felt like he could melt into a puddle in the bedroll beneath them.

Tav released his softening sticky member and lay her hand on his thigh and he suddenly realized the mess he made.

“Oh, let me get -” He started to move, aiming to grab the towel and bowl he had used to wash up with earlier. But Tav held him down with her body, nestling herself further against him and rubbing her nose against his neck with a soft sigh.

“Don’t worry. Lets just lay here a moment.” She said softly into his neck. Gale grinned like a fool at that, his body still pulsing dimly with the rush of his release, at her care, at her words, at her….love. They adjusted themselves so he could wrap his arm around her shoulders, bringing her further into him.

They lay in content silence, relaxation still swimming through Gales body. He could feel Tav’s soft breath on his neck and it felt like a wordless lullaby. To be holding her so close like this, it was a wonder he couldn’t begin to wrap his dizzy head around. Her breathing slowed and for a moment he thought she might have fallen asleep until he felt her mouth open against his neck.

“I have to admit...I actually did come here to just talk.” She said. Gale pulled his head back to try to look at her and she tilted her head up to meet his eyes. He could swear in the dim light he could make out a small smile on her face. For once he found himself at a loss of words and gaped at her a moment; she did hear him, he realized with a lurch. If the evening hadn’t have worked out as it did and if he wasn’t still so high from his lingering orgasm he might have had the good sense to feel embarrassed. But instead he just returned her smile and gave her another kiss before settling his head down, finding himself unable to focus on any one thought at a time, exhaustion and release finally taking over his body.

Tav lay back down and settled in next to him, letting out another content sigh into his neck. As sleep was about to take him a thought did strike out to him amid the brain fog and hit him like a dagger. How could he be so selfish? He could never just take pleasure like that without return. His senses must have fled him entirely. He raised head again, quicker this time and caused her own head to jerk up.

“Tav. I...what about you? I cant just lay here in bliss, while you remain…. what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t-” His rising panic at the thought of not offering her the same level of pleasure was overtaking his ability to form words. A wide visible smile spread across her face as he rambled and she leaned in to kiss him into silence.

“I am perfectly content, laying here with you if you’ll allow me.” She murmured as sleep seemed to tighten its grip on her. He swallowed away his words, for once too tired to form an argument back and gave her another kiss and a nod before they settled back down again.

“Besides…” Tav breathed out heavy on his neck. “We have time. You can make it up to me next time.” She finished barely above a whisper and he felt her body relax against his.

Gale stewed on that a moment, fighting against sleep. He would. He would make it up to her. For this; for everything. His sleepy mind raced, thoughts giving way to dreams as he conjured up ideas of all he would do to, and with her, to show her his feelings and love and, of course, ever the gentleman, repay her for tonight.

#my writing #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale smut #gale fanfic #tav x gale #Gale POV

[dystychiphxbia]

☆ - it has always been you | haitani rindou

me, writing for something other than blue lock? wow!

rindou is shy with women, idc what you think

wc: 3k, not proofread, fem!reader

You've been friends with the infamous Haitani brothers for as long as you can remember.

At this point, you weren't sure how you guys met. You were the same age as Ran, so chances were you met in kindergarten. Maybe you just saw them one day, and decided that they would be your friends. You thought that it really didn't matter anymore at this point.

You were a ''good girl'', like your parents always called you. Kind-hearted, a model student, always helping out those in need. Even if Ran and Rindou did all kinds of things you didn't even want to know about, you weren't influenced. Despite considering them your best friends, you made sure to keep a certain level of distance. And they respected that, even though they were always so happy to tell you about how their fights went.

When your best friends landed themselves in juvie, you chewed them out for it. You were disappointed, to say the least. But you saw that something in them had changed. There was something foreign, that you had to stay away from.

Living in Roppongi, you constantly heard stories of the gangs Ran and Rindou lead, and the crimes they did. People would call them charismatic, but you just thought they were stupid. You just couldn't wrap your head around it. What was so great about that kind of life?

When the three of you were together, you saw a side of them not many people got to see. They were brothers, so they were constantly at each other's throats for whatever reason, but then minutes later they would be laughing at something stupid. 

For the most part, they were gentle with you. You knew that you are important to them, they cared about you just as much as you did about them. But more often than not, they would gang up together to make fun of you whenever you made a small mistake, or said something silly. Even if it annoyed you, it just showed how comfortable they were with you.

Countless times you would hear rocks thrown at your window at unholy hours. There were always two possibilities; One, they wanted to take you along on whatever silly idea they had. Two, they had been in a fight and wanted you to patch them up. You were glad to do that, of course, but every time you made sure to scold them. They would apologize, but you knew they didn't truly mean it. 

Your parents disliked the infamous duo. They always told you to stay away from them, and that they were a bad influence. Sure, they weren't wrong, but you always reminded them of how well you did in school, and they left it at that. Sometimes the two would visit and actually come in through the front door instead of the window. They would make sure to be polite with your parents, even if they already knew that their image couldn't be saved.

''He wouldn't speak, so I broke his fingers one by one-'' ''Jesus, Rindou, I don't want to hear the rest. You are too sadistic.'' You complained to the blonde who was sitting in front of your bed. You were laying on your stomach on your bed, facing him, while Ran had taken up the rest of your bed, already dozing off. He even claimed your pillow and blanket.

Rindou's grin dropped at your words, and he muttered a small 'sorry'. ''You just go a bit overboard sometimes, you aren't a yakuza.'' You gave him a reassuring smile. Before you got to continue, you felt Ran move around next to you, and you turned to look at him. ''Slept well, sleeping beauty?'' You smirked at him, and he gave you a quick glare. ''Would've slept well if you two didn't blabber so much. My bed may be the best, but yours is definitely number two.'' His arm lazily snaked around you, and he pulled you closer to him. 

Physical touch with either of them was something you were used to, but Ran was always the one to be more touchy. Rindou would sometimes flinch from your hands touching, while his older brother had no problems hugging or cuddling with you. Right now he was holding you so tightly that you could barely breathe.

''rin...dou help.'' You desperately extended your arm towards the blonde, who just shrugged. Feeling heartbroken and defeated, you accepted your fate. Unbeknownst to you, Ran was currently smirking at his brother, who tried to avert his gaze. The two could speak sentences without saying a word, so there was a lot of things you didn't know.

Like the fact that Rindou has had a crush on you for a long time. 

And Ran knew about it.

Ran would always push his brother towards confessing, but Rindou was just too shy. Part of him didn't want to drag you more into the messes he got himself in. In addition to that, he was greatly afraid of you rejecting him. Would you even look at him the same after? Would he ruin the comfortable friendship you had with the two of them?

When Rindou wouldn't make a move, Ran took matters into his own hands. He would try to make his brother jealous. That was the only way, he thought.

Ran would get you flowers for no reason, buy you your favorite snacks, and be extra touchy with you. Of course he didn't do any of that just because he felt like he had to for his brother's sake. He would never tell his brother this, but there was a part of him that wanted to be the one by your side. However when his younger brother came to him one evening asking for advice, he had decided to push those feelings away.

But Rindou, he did see the genuineness in his brother's actions. And in his eyes, he saw how you would smile so brightly at his brother, your eyes always lighting up. He wondered if he ever even stood a chance.

Could you really love a hoodlum like him?

''Ouch!'' Rindou was shaken from his thoughts by your voice. You were currently pushing Ran away from you, and he was full on laughing. ''Did you see that, Rindou? He bit me!'' You exclaimed while Ran continued to laugh. Rindou gave his brother a glare and finally got up. He took a hold of your arm, pushing his brother lightly while pulling you towards himself. Your back leaned against him with his hands being on your shoulder, while you glared at Ran.

''You monster.'' You pouted at him. ''Bet you are into that.'' The older brother stopped laughing to wink at you. ''Perv.'' Rindou spoke up. His hand pushed your hair out of the way and he looked at the mark that his brother had put on you. Was he officially claiming you as his?

The rest of that day went rather peacefully, with you clinging into Rindou while sending glares to Ran. The whole time Ran had a huge shit-eating grin on his face, which pissed you off even more. So in the end, you just completely ignored the older brother, and just focused on Rindou.

''Rindou. Let's go home, I'm tired.'' You eventually heard Ran complain. That guy had taken a total of three naps throughout their visit, and he was still tired? Rindou sighed, but got up from the spot he was sitting in, ''Fine.'' Feeling a bit disheartened at their quick decision to leave, you still followed them downstairs. Your father sent you a glare from the living room, pointing at the clock that said 10 pm. Not even that late, considering it was summer vacation.

You closed to door behind you, giving the duo in front of you a small smile. ''Come visit again whenever you want.'' You told them. ''Next time we are visiting through the window, your father always gets so angry when we come by.'' Ran chuckled. ''Just ignore him.'' You answered, quickly stepping in to give him a hug. That's something you had been doing since you were children. Eventually Rindou had stopped accepting your hugs, and you had stopped offering them. This time, though, something told you to open up your arms at him. For some reason, he accepted.

That hug felt different, in a way. It didn't last long, but you felt like it had more meaning to it than just a simple 'goodbye'. 

Rindou quickly pulled away, and with one quick glance at his brother, he started walking away. Ran gave you a wave, before following his younger brother. You watched them walk away, your heart beating a bit faster than usual.

At the same time, Rindou was glaring at his brother, more than usual. ''What?'' Ran smirked at him. ''You got a hug out of it, you always complain about how she no longer even tries to give you one.'' ''No need to bite her, though.'' ''You didn't care when she was basically being suffocated. That probably broke her heart.'' Ran held his hand over his heart. ''You are so dramatic.'' Rindou sighed, rolling his eyes. Ran answered with a laugh.

''But seriously, Rindou.'' Ran spoke up again, his tone now serious. ''You need to make a move. She won't know about your feelings if you don't tell her.'' ''You sound so serious, as if you have any more experience than me.'' Rindou answered with a sarcastic tone. ''Maybe not with serious relationships, but at least I get laid more often.'' 

Rindou sighed in frustration. 

The next day, you decided to go out. Just to have some time for yourself. Maybe to possibly run into a wild Ran or Rindou.

Instead, you ran into something you have been trying to avoid. 

''Is this really her? The little missy seen with the Haitani brothers?''

You were surrounded by maybe 7 guys, who were whispering to each other. It wasn't your first time. Rumors spread fast, and at least everyone in Roppongi knew that you were friends with the brothers. It attracted some unwanted attention. There were occasions where you would get harassed by complete strangers. They usually wanted to use you against the Haitanis, but there was a thing they didn't know.

You knew how to fight.

Of course Ran and Rindou taught you some things. Ways to get out of situations like these. Usually, you would try to talk yourself out of them. Rarely it worked. You wanted to call yourself a pacifist, but these idiots around you made it so difficult.

''Hey. What are you to the Haitanis?'' A man spoke up, who you assumed to be the leader. He was nothing compared to Ran and Rindou, you thought. A classic musclehead with no charisma.

''What's it to you? You gonna pay me for the information?'' You asked sarcastically, eyeing the men around you. You knew you couldn't win against all 7 of them, you weren't that strong. You also noticed that some of them had weapons, such as pipes, and you knew there was a chance that at least one of them carried a knife. You had a knife as well, but you only used that in extreme situations.

''Did ya hear that? The bitch can speak.''

Your eyes narrowed. More often than not you would piss off the person bothering you, and would get called a bitch, or a whore. It's like none of these men knew how to talk to women.

''Have some fucking respect.'' You spat, now walking towards him. ''I don't care what kind of beef you have with Ran and Rindou, but it has nothing to do with me.'' Before you could even realize what was happening, the man's fist made contact with your cheek. The force made you fumble, but you stayed up.

''How about you have some respect, huh?! Do you even know who I am?!'' ''Honestly? No. And I couldn't care less.''

You had one thing that always worked in your favor. The element of surprise.

You wasted no time and kicked him in the stomach. He winced in pain, doubling over from the impact. With everyone else now surprised and caught off guard, you bolted.

They didn't follow you for long, or maybe it's better to say that you were just too fast. Slowly calming down from the adrenaline rush, you spotted a familiar park. You used to play there with Ran and Rindou as children, and you still occasionally visited it.

And there you saw Rindou, with a bottle in his hand.

Shaking your head lightly, you walked up to him. ''Drinking with the homeless again?'' You asked, placing a hand on your hip. He was in the middle of taking a sip, and your voice startled him, causing him to cough uncontrollably. ''N-not many homeless around here.'' He gazed at the playground filled with children that was some distance away. ''I don't think drinking near children is any better.'' You sat down next to him.

It took him a while, but eventually he looked at you. Quickly putting the bottle on the ground, he used his hand to turn you towards him. ''Who hurt you?'' He asked, eyes glued to the red mark on your cheek.

''Oh this? Some thug, I don't know. Kicked him in the stomach and ran away.'' You shrugged. Rindou's gaze softened. ''Should've kicked him where the sun doesn't shine.'' A small smile made its way to his lips, before his expression turned serious again. ''But for real, (Y/n). What did he look like? I won't let him get away with this.''

''You don't need to do that.'' You smiled softly at him, getting lost in his violet eyes. 

''No, (Y/n). I do. I won't let anyone hurt my- uh, our-, uh our friend.'' He trailed off, mentally face palming at himself. Real smooth, Rindou.

You let out a laugh, making Rindou's face flush out a light shade of pink. He was embarrassed, but there was something about your laugh that made him feel things he couldn't explain. No one else had ever made him feel this way, when he was with you, nothing else mattered. Time didn't pass and he felt so light. There was nothing he could worry about. You were so beautiful, no one else compared. Your laugh was like music to his ears.

''Rin? You are staring.'' You snapped him back to reality.

''Oh, sorry.'' 

''No need to apologize. Stare all you want.''

Rindou was caught off guard, raising his brow in confusion. ''Excuse me?''

''Sorry. That was weird.''

''No need to apologize. Be weird all you want.''

A silence, which was soon followed by laughter.

Moments like this, Rindou wished they could last forever. But they never did. Eventually you would get interrupted by his brother. 

''Hey, Rindou?" "Yeah?" You stayed silent for a while, suddenly feeling nervous. You wondered if you really wanted to go through with this.

You were afraid. Afraid of what he would say, afraid of what would happen after. Afraid of change, and the unknown.

"I...there's someone I like."

Rindou's world came crashing down. This was it. He had lost.

"Y-yeah? Who is it?" His voice was breaking.

You took his hand in yours. "He's someone very close to me...Strong and charismatic..." You studied his calloused hands.

'fuck it's ran.'

"I...like you, Rindou."

"Huh? What?" He blurted out. A bit taken aback, you let his hand go. Rindou looked at you, looking for any hints of sarcasm or deception. He found none.

When he didn't answer, your defences went up. "Y-you don't need to say anything. I don't know why I said that, really. It just...came out. Felt right, I guess...I-" You kept going until Rindou stopped you.

''Wait. I thought you liked Ran.''

''...What?''

''What?''

Your brows furrowed in confusion. ''Why would I like him? He's a great friend sure but I'm not into him that way.''

Rindou blinked once. Twice. His face showed a hint of joy, and then again confusion. "But you are so touchy with him." "Yeah? I've always been touchy. You just stopped accepting my hugs." "...Fair enough."

Still, he couldn't believe that you would actually like him. It was something he had dreamt of, but he had never actually believed it to be true.

"Seriously, Rindou. Just reject me so I can move on." You hung your head low, not wanting to look at him. You thought you knew what was coming.

Instead, you felt Rindou's hand lift your chin, and his lips on yours. Before you could even react, they were already gone. You now looked at him, meeting his violet eyes once again. They were filled with determination.

"(Y/n). I love you."

Your eyes widened in surprise.

Love.

Such a strong word.

You knew Rindou wasn't the type to just throw the word 'love' around. There was meaning to it.

"Why didn't you say anything sooner?" You asked quietly. "I was...afraid. I didn't want to ruin anything between us."

The exact same thing applied to you. You felt silly for overthinking his actions so much. Each and every time he had rejected your touch, your heart broke. You thought that maybe you did something wrong, maybe you made him angry.

But Rindou is shy.

"Isn't there something that you are supposed to ask me?"

"Do I have to?"

"Of course you do."

Now Rindou took your hand in his. "(Y/n)...will you be my girlfriend?"

You stayed silent for a bit, pretending to think about it.

"...Yes."

"Don't play with me like that, love." Rindou sighed in relief. He put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer.

You rest your head on his shoulder, now gazing at the playground you had already forgotten about. Was it too early to start thinking about mini Rindous running around?

Rindou felt like he was on cloud nine. You two were silent, but it was a comfortable silence. He still had a lot to learn, a lot to experience. But he was happy to do all that with you by his side.

...

He would probably enjoy the moment way more, if he didn't see his idiot brother hiding in the bushes giving him a thumbs up.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #haitani brothers #haitani rindou x reader #rindou haitani #rindou x reader #tokyo revengers rindou

[milquetoast27]

The Secret of Sherlock Holmes

GRANADA FANS. If you have not heard of this play, NOW IS THE TIME TO HEAR ABOUT IT. I'd been saving it for a rainy night and it was SOO good 😭😭Please allow me to elaborate.

[heads-up, there are no video recordings of it. I listened to the audio and followed along with the script. Not ideal, but still gave me a vivid image of what was happening on-stage.]

The nuance between screen and stage allows the actors to achieve different effects that are not possible with an on-screen adaptation. Characters do not turn to the camera and just tell you their innermost thoughts, but they can in a stageplay- and it's here that we really get to hear Brett and Hardwicke's ideas about Holmes and Watson- not much of it was unfamiliar as I'd read most of Brett's views in interviews, but it was really cool to get that confirmed in an official production that he worked on. Honestly, Brett had that feeling of "I can fix him" that I think exists in all of us Holmes fans, and totally went for it. The canon (and the Granada series) is rife with subtleties and 'show, don't tell', but it is honestly refreshing for once, to have such powerful emotion depicted dramatically and audaciously on a stage. It is all too often throughout the stories that Holmes and Watson are awfully reticent about their feelings. This play is an explosion of their private thoughts that leads to finally, thankfully, a wonderful reconciliation. I love it so much as it clearly advocates for open communication being a vital factor for a good friendship. There's a good reason for why that never happened in the canon; I think it has a lot to do with the shyness and reticence of the English, and I would not be surprised most particularly with Victorian men. But Holmes and Watson do still have their moments in the canon (e.g. 3GAR & FINA), and it's what makes them stand out so shockingly much in their time.

I appreciate that this play gives us viginettes of Holmes and Watson's life together all the way up to The Final Problem. It not only sets us up for the climax later, but also shows us specifically Brett's Holmes and Hardwicke's Watson. There were changes made from the original stories, and yet felt so wonderfully in-character and flowed really well through the actors. The play exclusively stars Brett and Hardwicke, and the purpose of redoing scenes from the canon, such as STUD, NAVA, or CHAS was to highlight the status in their relationship, for example Holmes's displeasure at Watson's marriage and subsequent loneliness- important scenes that communicate Holmes's dependence on Watson. These small glimpses also give us the much-needed humour for any balanced Holmes production! It not only communicates the warm and light moments that they shared, but also helps us get more invested in this particular pair on the stage, which is still vital, even if we're already attached to the characters.

The implications that arise from Brett's portrayal of Holmes is fascinating. He admits that he'd have been dead within two years without Watson, without the indispensible role he played in controlling his addiction and mental state. He admits of the lonely and awful childhood he shared with his brother. The fact that Holmes comes forward and tells us this himself suggests he is very psychologically aware of himself and how his mind works. He understands why he has addictions, the reasons for his barriers and difficulty with emotional vulnerability. Assuming Holmes is very interested in the criminal psyche, but also his own due to his eccentricities, it makes so much sense that he would psychoanalyse himself to this degree, but also be frustrated with how little he is able to move from his rigid mindset. This interpretation works so wonderfully for Brett's Holmes, and I am so glad for this portrayal he has given us. When it comes to canon Holmes, however, I feel that this is more likely to be unconscious. I can never shake how much of Brett is actually within his Holmes. While his comes close to the original, I still see them as separate people. Granada's adaptation tends to play up Holmes's melancholy/depression a little too far for me, like a far-away, mythical creature that can never be understood, because we never get much of an opportunity to see what he really feels (perhaps Eligible Bachelor or Master Blackmailer might come close). But I feel that almost defeats the character. To me, Holmes is flawed and troubled, but he is simply human. The Secret of Sherlock Holmes portrays this fact wonderfully, because all of those feelings are rising to the surface.

We move further into speculation, but I think Brett's Holmes has also a fairly healthy understanding of the difference between social constructs and necessities, which take more importance in a queer/neurodivergent reading of him. He understands that his upbringing was due to an "accepted convention", and we see time and again how Holmes disregards social conventions or constructs and does his own thing. It's why he gets frustrated at others for not understanding him, but also accepts that it will never come easily to people. That's why he's very lucky for Watson (and Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade!) :)

Holmes's darker emotions, and Watson's fierce devotion are displayed most prominently throughout. When Watson comments on Holmes's childhood, Holmes lies about it, woeing internally over how much he conceals, to even someone as close to him as Watson. He privately shares his desire to be "found out", because sharing his feelings to Watson is too difficult. His friend takes his word for it, appreciative of the times Holmes is able to speak frankly about himself. Holmes wants to be open, and Watson wants to listen, but it's Holmes's barriers preventing it. This feeling and experience is so raw and human, and something I would imagine would resonate with many people.

The latter half of the play focuses primarily on Holmes's cocaine addiction. Pastiche writers really like that sore spot, huh. Watson's perceptiveness and powers of observation are on full force in this play. Watson can tell when Holmes is high (as a medical man, most likely), and even deduced that Holmes may still be living by Mycroft's body language. But when it came to Holmes's return from the Great Hiatus...

Something that canon Watson seems to completely forget is his anger towards Holmes. In the story, he is so star-struck and relieved that he barely considers any other feeling. Hardwicke does briefly touch on this in the Granada episode with "I thought I would be as trustworthy as your brother," but it really doesn't go further than that. In The Secret of Sherlock Holmes, Hardwicke goes FULL FORCE. This is what we needed!!! It was a powerful, hair-raising performance. When Holmes has clearly not understood the harm he has done, Watson leaves. Actually slams the door. And when he returns, he makes it very clear to Holmes why he is hurt. And yet, his devotion remains, for when Holmes starts explaining his creation of Moriarty, it takes a while before Watson is fully convinced. Watson is extremely compassionate and empathetic, yes, but he's also very grounded and level-headed, and he must draw the line somewhere. It doesn't take him long to forgive Holmes, but he knows his anger has a place in that room, and allows it to be. I appreciate that it's taken just as seriously as Holmes's troubles.

The only reason either Holmes or Watson are able to communicate so finely with each other- even through shouting and crying- is because of their emotional awareness. It's what makes their relationship work, because they are both aware of how much they mean to each other. When they move past the difficulty of sharing such feelings, their bond grows stronger.

#granada holmes #acd holmes #sherlock holmes #jeremy brett #edward hardwicke #victorian husbands

[lethalchiralium]

Glass Houses | Miguel O’Hara x Wife!Reader

a/n: look, i’m not ignoring anything (i am) i just couldn’t get this out of my head haha

warnings: fluff and angst 🫶

summary: It’s finally time for Gabi’s quinceañera, something Miguel had finally allowed her to have.

MASTERLIST

Pastel pink dress with flowers in her hair, Gabi was having the best night of her young life.

Picture after picture, her pearly white smile was as bright as daylight. Her friends surrounded her, her uncles and aunts from both parents celebrated her quinceañera. It was the night she had been looking forward to, the night she had been begging you and her father for.

“Gabi,” He shook his head, his grip on the steering wheel was tight. “I told you we’ll think about it.”

“Papa, every girl I know gets a quince-“

“Gabi, lo digo en serio-“ Your hand settled on Miguel’s thigh gently, he took in a breath, growing frustrated with traffic and with himself. He spared a glance to you, your eyes on the road, but that still didn’t stop you from looking to him. “Mi vida, help me here.”

Your fingertips tapped his thigh, you turned to look over your shoulder at your darling daughter, still wiping off mud from that day’s practice. You glanced to Miguel as his hand slid down to settle on top of yours, fingers curled around your palm. Your husband has always trusted your judgement.

You squeezed his thigh before you responded, “Baby, Papa’s already doing so much for us. You need to give him time to get it worked out, it’s not a yes or no until he says so.”

The fourteen year old’s expression dropped, her body slumped into her seat. You frowned. “Why does he get to pick all of the sudden? You always set the rules, Mama-“

“Cuida tu tono con tu madre, Gabi.” His tone was calm, you could feel the bite of his words and watch how Gabi looked out the window in response. You deflated a little, you didn’t want to tell your perfect daughter that what little money you and Miguel had was running out. “Siempre escuchamos a mamá.” You squeezed Miguel’s thigh again, your eyes moved to gaze at the side profile you had memorized years ago.

“Mama, por favor,” You looked back to Gabi, your heart strings were tugged hard when you looked at her saddened expression.

A sigh escaped you before you turned forwards, the traffic now flowing much better. “Papa and I will talk about it.”

You watched your baby and her friends, all of them chatting away and laughing like hyenas. She was gorgeous, she looked truly happy; she spared a glance towards you, her smile so contagious that it made yours even wider. She was the spitting image of her father, just without the fangs. She waved a little, you waved back.

“We don’t have the money for it.” You whispered, arms tucked in between you and Miguel’s chest, fingertips gently tapping on his warm skin just below his collarbone. Your eyes could only watch your red fingernails as they drummed an unfamiliar melody into your husband’s skin.

He was watching you, it wasn’t hard for you to tell. His hand settled on your hip, the arm around your back gently stroked your shoulder blades with light fingertips.

“I’ll pick up more hours at Alchemax.”

“The mortgage is too much, Mig. I can get my job back-“

“No. Your back is still injured from the accident.” The car accident you had three months ago, where you were slammed into and your car thrown off the bridge by the momentum, only to be saved by Spider-Man. It was terrifying, he took you right down to the hospital without a word before he left you on a gurney; your husband appeared only moments later as the medical team took you inside, his breathing panicked as he took your hand, he was terrified. That look was one you could never get out of your head, even as you stared at his rising chest. “It will only be for a couple of months. It’s important for Gabi.”

“It’s important for Gabi.” You echoed, your nail caught on the small silver chain around his neck, the small locket glimmered in the low light.

Miguel is a generous man, and a man who truly adored his daughter.

Your daughter pranced over to your table, her smile much larger than you had even seen her make. You held out your hands, she instantly took them. “Mi niña, is it okay? Are you having fun?”

“It’s perfect, Mama.” Her arms were around your neck in an instant, a kiss from her on your head made your smile rival hers. She moved away, her pretty curls bouncing as her friends welcomed her back with huge smiles and infectious laughter.

You looked over to Miguel’s empty seat, heart sinking into your stomach. Being Spider-Man has made him lose so much important time with his family, but you understood why he put on the suit. You understood why when he told you that rainy night, you finally understood that you weren’t just a lucky survivor of small villain incident, he was always watching over you - even when he couldn’t be here for Gabi’s quinceañera.

You took a drink of your wine, hoping to put a damper on your growing sadness. You watched her Uncle Gabriel help take the beautiful white chair out to the middle of the dance floor, soft rose colored balloons tied to it and beautiful pink flowers wrapped around the back. Gabi was so excited, her gaze went back to you as she mouthed, “Love you.”

You blew her a kiss as the dance floor cleared, allowing her to sit down in the chair with her beautiful dress - her beautiful face bright with a smile. Your grip on your wine glass loosened as her Uncle Gabriel started the Changing of the Shoes ceremony - your own eyes felt pricks of pain as you fought back tears. You were only twenty feet away, your phone now in your hand was you took the video of the ceremony. She was laughing, happy - her flats being removed and replaced with the rose gold heels she had begged Miguel to buy months prior, but he had refused. And here they were, now placed on your daughter’s feet as her transition into becoming a young woman.

Tears of joy feel from your eyes as she stood, her smile still so large and the chair taken away. The song changed, your smile faltered.

“Gabi,” Miguel called. Your hand held his, his thumb gently raked over your index finger. He had spent many long nights, saving what money he could and taking odd jobs, all in between his duty as Spider-Man. His heart was warm, he had asked many favors with promises of repayment to set up his wonderful daughter’s quinceañera - more money than he wanted to pay, if at all, but he loved his child eternally. This was her one big wish for years, he had always said no since money was an issue. Even as a highly paid geneticist, his money was being drained by hospital bills, his mortgage, and his ailment of constantly needing venom to stay alive. But, giving her this meant she was growing up, and he was finally ready to help her out of her flats and into those high heels he knew were her favorite, then waltz around a big dance floor with his little girl who would be happier than ever.

She bounded down the staircase, hair a mess from practice as she tore off her headband, she smiled, “¿Qué pasa?” She was quick to sit on the floor in front of the couch, where you and Miguel were comfortably sitting. Your smile has always been gorgeous to Miguel, but in that moment, your smile infected him like a virus. You were so excited to see Gabi grow up, so excited to give her what she wanted.

Gabi was sobbing by the time Miguel had told her about the party, she hugged him so tight before kissing his cheek, then diving into you. You wrapped your arms around her with that beautiful smile on your face, moving your daughter back and forth with excitement.

That moment was a direct contrast to what he had confessed to you in private later that night, after he had finally found the courage to tell you his deepest secret. The look of horror on your face made Miguel’s stomach drop, the tears made him nauseous.

“You’re Spider-Man?”

He nodded for the second time, hand still holding yours. You didn’t remove it, your free hand came to cover your mouth.

“I wanted you to know. The ‘odd jobs’ I’ve been doing have been me being Spider-Man, people give me money to keep it up.” He whispered, terror in his heart as you just… stared.

“What will happen if I lose you?”

Miguel could only smile, his free hand came up to your cheek, resting upon it as he whispered, “Nunca me perderás, querida.”

Pastel pink dress with flowers in her hair, Gabi stood in the middle of the dance floor, ready for her last dance of the night before her 15 Candle Ceremony. It was her father’s idea to have the dance near the end of the ceremony, he was never one to want too much attention. The girl stood in the middle of the floor, eyes watching her father’s smile come closer and closer to her.

The crystal-like tears hit her beautiful dress, her manicured hands grasped onto the dark mahogany of the frame that displayed the photo of her smiling deceased father, Miguel O’Hara.

Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

#lethalchiralium #lethal chiralium #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel x you #miguel o'hara #astv miguel #miguel 2099 #spider man 2099 #miguel o’hara x f!reader #miguel o’hara x wife!reader #gabriella o’hara

[littlegreenfag-archive]

Regarding @littlegreenfag

Tldr: Adina, known by the Tumblr urls littlegreenfag and prksoda, has spent the past several years lying about many facets of their life. The list of lies includes, but is not limited to, being half manouche Romani, being Jewish, and being descended from Holocaust survivors.

I never wanted to have to do this. I’ve spent months trying my best to encourage Adina to come clean themself. My methods were not ideal. I should not have used anonymous messages. I used to be friends with them, I should've talked to them openly as their friend. I also should’ve attempted to be less aggressive at times, even though I think it is incredibly reasonable to have felt the way I felt when I was sending some of those messages. I understand and regret both of these things. Unfortunately, since Adina has deactivated @littlegreenfag, I cannot provide links or screenshots to every ask of mine that they responded to, only those I saved at the time. I will do this later, upon request. This post is already going to be enough of a monster without them.

Though the last day has been a complete nightmare, I am satisfied with one thing: Adina came clean about everything, even if not publicly. My worry was always with the though of having to reveal their personal information, as many of the things they’ve lied about would require me to, functionally, dox them. Though it's technically all public, I would much rather that no one who doesn't already have access to this information gain it.

So, why am I writing this post? For those of you who were on Adina’s blog last night, you may have seen this post. I was also able to save a capture of their blog on the Internet Archive. Here is a screenshot that I took around when the post was first published. Apologies for the formatting.

To summarize, Adina begins to by admitting to a small lie, that they were born in Chicago, before admitting that they had been lying about their race. Though it was not present at the time of the blog's deletion, I would like to note that Adina had the phrase "jewish and half-romani" in their blog's bio for a very long time. This phrase was quietly removed after I sent the first anon message telling them that I was aware of their lies, on March 16th 2024. This can be seen on the Wayback Machine, by looking at the capture taken on March 5th, 2024, in comparison to the capture taken on March 24th, 2024.

That is what you may have seen. However, it is not the only major lie Adina has told. After suggesting Adina should turn off anons, I sent them another ask with my blog name visible, telling them that I could tell everyone about the other lies for them, if they wished to log off and be done with it. They messaged me privately, and this is the resulting conversation.

I apologize for the block of images, but I figured it was necessary to include the entire conversation. Here, Adina openly admits to not being Jewish. Adina has spent months receiving social benefits for claiming to be Jewish, and they've even used this claim to support arguments. Truth be told, Adina has one Jewish great-grandfather. How Adina expected me to believe they would know about this without knowing his surname, I will never know. However, I should emphasize that Adina is not Jewish by the standards of any main movement of Judaism. Orthodox and Conservative look for an unbroken line of Jewish women, while Reform asks that you be raised Jewish by a Jewish parent. Adina is descended from a Jewish man who converted to Catholicism and raised his children Catholic.

Regarding the Holocaust claim, I understand hat Adina did not directly address this. I will say that I find it suspicious that they deactivated as soon as I mentioned it, but they technically never confirmed it was a lie. However, with the information that:

The ancestors they mention as being survivors or victims quite literally do not exist and

Their Jewish ancestor was born in the United States well before WWII

I believe it is quite safe to say this was also a lie. My screenshots of their claims come mostly from their Reddit account, which is now deleted.

It is absolutely ghoulish to me to create fake relatives so that you can pretend they were tortured and killed during the Holocaust. All to receive sympathy.

Though there are many, many other lies Adina has peddled, such as being a child of divorce and having a dead biological mother, I don't think any of them matter much in the grand scheme of things when these are the other lies that have been told.

It is also worth noting that this is a pattern of behavior from Adina. As some of you who followed them may know, back in 2019, a blog was created with the intent of calling them out for lies. Frankly, this blog, @prksodalies , is what put me on to Adina's trail in the first place. Though I believe that several of the things Adina was accused of on this blog are downright cruel to accuse someone of without evidence, the fact that there were so many smaller obvious lies made me very uneasy. What specifically made me curious was the post, here, where Adina claims that they are half Lebanese. Obviously, this did not make a ton of sense with the half Roma and half Ashkenazi Jewish Adina we all knew. As it turns out, this was one of the very few shreds of truth from Adina. They're a quarter Lebanese on their father's side, and other than that and a Jewish great-grandfather, are of mostly Polish and German descent.

This being a pattern of behavior, alongside the way Adina behaved in messages with me, tells me that this will likely unfortunately not be the last time this person creates a Tumblr blog with a fabricated life story. I feel immense guilt at the thought that they may continue to swindle and hurt people, and that I will never know or be able to help again.

To everyone who was friends with this person and has been hurt by their actions, I am truly, truly sorry. This has been an absolutely miserable experience for me and I can't imagine it's much different for any of you. If you have questions, I'll be available for a least a few hours. I do not want to share any of their personal information, but I will share what I need to (privately) if some of you need or want more information.

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Another Merlin au prompt! This time featuring Morgana, because I haven't been giving her enough love recently!

EDIT: You can find part two of this au here!

In a season 4 au, the Cailleach never tells Morgana that Emrys is her destiny and her doom. Instead, she merely tells Morgana that Emrys is her destiny. So, instead of fearing Emrys, Morgana believes that Emrys is the key to achieving her destiny and conquering Camelot. Thus, she starts her hunt to try and find an ally in Emrys.

Through the Druids and the Catha, Morgana learns that Emrys is the Old Religion's god of magic and is destined to come to the mortal plane in the form of a human to bring magic back to the land after a great tragedy. Morgana hadn't heard of Emrys before since Morgause (in her hubris) did not focus on educating Morgana in the gods and goddesses that they were supposed to worship, instead focusing on teaching her powerful, dark magic and battle strategies against their enemies.

So, Morgana spends most of seasons 4 trying to find Emrys and ally herself to him. Morgana eventually learns from a druid that defected to her cause that Emrys has already taken his human form and lives in Camelot, working in secret to bring about magic's return to the land. Morgana was shocked by this, since it was possible that Emrys had been in Camelot even before she knew of her magic, but also pleased, as having Emrys already established inside Camelot would make a takeover much easier!

Morgana, from there, starts attributing her every victory and defeat to Emrys in some way. She succeeds in killing Uther through the enchanted necklace? Emrys must have been in on her plans and delivered the final blow while Arthur trusted him to try to heal his father! Her plan to drive Arthur and Gwen apart through shade Lancelot succeeds? Because Emrys ensured that no one suspected the shade before he did his job, of course! Her magic fails during her takeover of Camelot? Emrys must be angry with her for trying to conquer Camelot without him! She makes it out of Camelot alive even without her magic? Praise Emrys!

Morgana's beliefs are further solidified when Aithusa heals her. She asks Aithusa who she is, how is there another dragon? Aithusa is too young to speak, but she instead shares images and ideas with Morgana. In Aithusa's memories, Morgana couldn't quite see the face of the dragonlord who hatched Aithusa, but she knew how that magical power felt! It must have been Emrys, as the druids also told her that he was the last dragonlord! He must have sent this young dragon, his own kin, to heal Morgana and keep her safe before their destinies came to fruition!

When they're captured by Sarrum, Aithusa called out for her dragonlord, and after a couple hours in that damned well, a golden light filled the entire space, and their magic-binding chains were removed, allowing them to climb out of the pit and escape. There was no doubt in Morgana's mind that Emrys was the one who saved him, but to her disappointment, he was not there when they escaped.

(Merlin, back in Camelot, performed a ritual to send his magic to aid Aithusa, wherever she was. He could sense her cries and her fear, but he couldn't pin down her location, so this was his only way of sending help.)

By season 5, Morgana's patience was growing thin. She knew that Emrys probably had some grand, years-long plan for how they were going to conquer Camelot and let magic reign, but she wanted the throne that was rightfully hers! But to do that, she needed Emrys. So, she sought out the Diamiar to ask how she could find Emrys. Unfortunately, she never found the Diamiar and was forced to retreat.

Fast forward to Kara being captured and Mordred begging for her life and getting locked up with her. In this au, Merlin helps break Mordred and Kara out of the dungeon and helps them leave Camelot safely, leading to Mordred not growing bitter against Merlin, but still holding animosity towards Arthur for not being merciful towards Kara.

Kara takes advantage of Mordred's newfound anger towards Arthur and convinces him to join Morgana's forces. Morgana welcomes Mordred with open arms, but he's hesitant to tell her Emrys's true identity after Merlin saved him and Kara. However, after Morgana tells him that the only way that they can defeat Arthur is with Emrys fighting alongside them, Mordred reluctantly tells Morgana Emrys's true name: Merlin.

Morgana is absolutely shook by this news. How could her ultimate ally, the key to her victory, be one of her worst enemies?! He was Arthur's most loyal lacky! He saved Arthur's life repeatedly, keeping her from the throne! He had poisoned her!

Morgana was in absolute denial over this news, until she started thinking over it. When she had first told Merlin about her magic, he had tried to help her and led her to the druids. Yes, he had poisoned her, but that was the last push she needed to join Morgause. Perhaps that was his plan from the beginning? To ensure that she joined her sister and fulfilled her destiny in becoming a high priestess?

And his position as Arthur's closest confidant and servant gave him the anonymity to not be noticed by the nobility and the perfect place to manipulate Arthur, weakening him and his kingdom from within! Emrys truly was a mastermind with a plan to take down Camelot! And to think, she had fallen for his disguise as a cowardly servant as well! He was effortlessly playing all of Camelot for fools!

And oh, Morgana could see his vision! Emrys- Merlin- would crush Arthur's heart, his very soul, by revealing his power and his glorious destiny of returning magic to the land. All Merlin would have to do was pull the rug out from underneath Arthur, and Arthur would be so heartbroken and weakened by the betrayal that Camelot would be ripe for the taking!

Perhaps Merlin would revel in Arthur's humiliation? Wrap obedience spells around the king's mind and make Arthur his servant? What glorious justice that would be!

The most powerful sorcerer in history, magic incarnate, living in Camelot and having the absolute trust of the king! Everything was poised so perfectly! Morgana had to give Emrys credit for this, he had set everything up, from Morgana's rise to her true power to surrounding Arthur with commoner knights who owed more to Merlin than they did to the king, so that Arthur's end and magic's rise was inevitable. She did wish he would have told her about his plans sooner though. They could have been working together all this time!

Still, this meant that all of the pieces for magic's takeover of Camelot were in place! All she had to do was reach out to Emrys and let him know that she was ready, and they could conquer Camelot!

Mordred tries to warn her that Merlin is trying to fulfill the prophecy is a different, more peaceful way than what she has in mind, but Morgana brushes that aside. Emrys was her destiny, the key to her success!

However, after luring Merlin into the crystal cave and finally offering an alliance with him so they could take over Camelot, Morgana was shocked to be vehemently rejected by Merlin, with Merlin telling her that there was no way that he would ever betray Arthur, Emrys or not.

Morgana was not really expecting that and was forced to revise her plans. She needed Merlin to be on her side if she was going to have any chance at taking the throne from her undeserving brother, but Merlin, despite all of his power and destiny, was reluctant to join her and take his rightful place of power.

It was rather confusing for Morgana. Why would Emrys truly want Arthur on the throne? Was Arthur already his thrall, and he didn't want to lose his puppet king? No, if Emrys had Arthur under his power, magic would already be returned to the land.

Perhaps it was some sort of odd affection that Merlin had towards Arthur? That must be it! Merlin had been forced to tolerate Arthur for so long that some sort of forced feelings of connection towards Arthur had wormed their way into Emrys's heart!

So, Morgana goes on a campaign to win Merlin's loyalty over to her by 1) trying to undermine Arthur's rule and make his look like a fool and 2) make herself look like the better option. She has dozens of spies in Camelot and has sorcerers who can scry for her, so she knows when Arthur treats Merlin like a fool and dismisses his thoughts like an arrogant prat, and she chooses those days to send Merlin gifts, like spell books filled with useful curses, enchanted jewelry to make him more powerful, and the severed head of an assassin who managed to land a cut on Merlin while he was trying to kill Arthur (on Morgana's orders, but that's just semantics).

Morgana also sees how Merlin's living situation with Gaius isn't great, so she sends him things like new luxurious clothes and rich foods, which are things that she supposes that he'll have to get used to after he takes his rightful place as the conqueror of Camelot.

Merlin, however, remains suspicious of these gifts and knows that Morgana is trying to tempt him to her side, so he ignores them for the most part. Eventually, Arthur finds out about Morgana trying to bribe his manservant with extravagant gifts and loses his mind over it. He knows that Merlin would never betray Camelot to the likes of Morgana, but the fact that Morgana has set her sights on Merlin puts him very ill at ease.

And this, of course, devolves into a tense game of tug-of-war between the Pendragon siblings. Both of them are tripping over themselves trying to prove themselves to be more deserving of Merlin's loyalty, while Merlin just wants to go back to sleep.

Let me know if you'd like to see a continuation of this prompt! I think that seeing a high-stakes sibling rivalry between Arthur and Morgana over Merlin would be pretty funny!

EDIT: You can find part two of this au here!

Also, please let me know if there are any other Merlin characters you'd like me to feature! I'm working on some Gwen-focused and Lancelot-focused prompts, but let me know if there are any others you'd like to see!

And, as always, thank you for reading through my rambling! :D

#bbc merlin #merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin bbc #merlin au #morgana #emrys #merlin prompts

[starlazergazer]

You Promised

Pairing: Anakin x Reader

Request(s): Hello love! Could I request something with Anakin x reader where he’s out on a mission and gets hurt maybe knocked unconscious for a bit and when he wakes up he’s like “she’s gonna kill me for getting hurt” and when he gets back gets an earful but also lots of cuddles <3

Was recently watching Hunger Games Catching Fire idk if you’ve seen it but there’s this one scene where Peeta gets hurt then Katniss like freaks out and Finnick saves him and realizes shes in love with him and I was imaging that scenario with Anakin so maybe you could write something like Anakin getting hurt on a mission and oc freaking out thinking he’s gonna die and Obi-Wan or Rex can just tell 😭

Warning: Angst! A lot of descriptions of chest compressions. It has a super cute ending though I promise!

Word Count: 4k

A/N: I went ahead and combined two that were super similar so I hope that’s okay. I actually really like how this one turned out so please enjoy! As always let me know what you think love you guys!!

Obi-wan was on his knees.

That was the only thought that echoed in your head.

Obi-wan Kenobi, the general, the Jedi master, the great negotiator, member of the jedi council, was on his knees. Why was he on his knees?

Everything seemed to move in slow motion around you, every noise fading into the background as you tried to move forward, the very air seeming to fight against you as you did so.

Gloved hands clasped around your arms, holding you in place, a modulated voice you recognized registering in the back of your head but you didn’t pay attention to any of the words said.

Why was Obi-wan on his knees?

You tried still to push forward but those hands held you back, halted your every movement, white and blue armor entering your field of vision, trying to block your view.

“whats-“ you couldn’t even get your whole question out, weren’t really sure how to finish it.

You clawed at the armor before you, tried to use it to pull yourself forward, to Obi-wan, you had to get to Obi-wan.

“Kid you don’t want to go over there” Finally the voice broke through the haze, because that was Rex’s voice, his nickname for you. But why was Rex here?

“No I need to-“ you weren’t really sure what, you needed to get to Obi-wan, that was all you knew, that everything in your screamed that you had to get to Obi-wan.

“Let the general work” Rex’s voice was smooth, clam.

But Rex was supposed to be with Anakin, Rex was always with Anakin, Rex had Anakin’s back, Rex kept Anakin safe. So why was he here without him?

That was the first time you really processed the scene before you, the fact that there was a person over there with Obi-wan, a person Obi-wan was kneeling over, a person beneath Obi-wans interlaced hands, a person wearing all too familiar boots with their toes pointed to the sky.

Your gaze cut to Rex, as if you could get confirmation from the man’s helmet, as if he could tell you anything but what you already knew, as if he could fix everything.

“The general has him Y/N”

And somehow hearing him say your name made it worse. Because to him you weren’t Y/N you were general, jedi, kid, anything but the gravity that came with your name.

You like to think you’d decided then that you’d feel guilty about it later, but truly the action came without any forethought. Your hand came up with a mind of its own, your energy focusing just enough to give Rex a push through the force, not enough to hurt him but enough to get him out of your way, because right now you needed to get to Obi-wan.

You ran without checking on Rex, ran calling out Obi-wan’s name not missing how the general never halted his movements, and slid down across from him onto your knees not noticing the way loose gravel and glass cut into them as you did so.

Obi-wan was saying something to you, you acknowledged that, but your focus was planted on nothing but Anakin’s unconscious body beneath his hands.

He looked peaceful, too peaceful for the way his body moved beneath Obi-wan’s rough compressions.

“no no no no” it took you too long to realize it was you repeating those words, that your body was rocking back and forth softly, your hands balled up painfully in your hair, trying to do anything to ground yourself, to make yourself wake up, to give your brain anything it could latch to that would make sense.

Because it couldn’t be Anakin lying there without a heartbeat, it just couldn’t.

“Y/N” a shout of your name snapped you out of your stupor, your gaze snapping up to the Jedi master before you.

His eyes never once strayed from his hands on Anakin’s chest.

For the first time you took in the state of Obi-wan, noted the worry he tried to force down that was slipping through his eyes, the way his lips were parted with heavy breaths, the sweat that clung to his brow.

You’ve known Obi-wan for years, the man had been through more than most people experience in their lifetimes. He was a general in the republic’s army, a man regularly sent to the front lines to lead, the person you called to the table when you wanted to negotiate. Obi-wan Kenobi did not sweat.

“Obi” his name left your lips in a whisper, as a prayer, pleadingly.

The Jedi’s eyes cut up to meet yours briefly, his compressions never once halting “I know”

The man’s voice wasn’t scared, wasn’t broken, but it wasn’t calm either, it was just empty, hollow, the voice of a man who had cut himself off from everything, focusing on nothing but the task at hand.

It almost scared you more than anything else.

“No no he can’t he-“ you begged, who you were begging to you weren’t sure at this point “he promised he would be okay, he promised he would be careful, Obi-wan he can’t”

The words fell from your lips your mind barely attaching meaning to them as they passed.

“Rex” Obi-wan called without a second thought, paying you no mind as his attention shifted to the newly arrived reinforcements, a horde of clone troopers descending on the two of them completely blocking your view as Rex carefully pulled you back.

And you knew they were there to help, knew that Anakin should go with them, that if anyone could bring him back it was them.

But in this moment all you knew was you were being separated from him and you weren’t sure if you were ever going to see him again.

Desperately you screamed Anakin’s name over the crowd, watching as his body was hoisted by a few troopers and carried towards the nearest starship, ardently fighting against Rex’s hold as he kept you in place.

“No no Rex please I need to go with him” you begged the clone captain “please I can’t leave him alone he can’t be alone”

The captain did his best to calm you, softly shushing you, holding you in place until your movements started slow, your legs giving out from beneath you as the ramp to the starship that took Anakin ascended, effectively sealing him from you.

Rex followed you down to the ground, arms that had caged you into him softening to offer comfort instead as you watched the ship takeoff “Rex he can’t die he’s my-“ and you couldn’t bring yourself to finish the sentence, chocking on the word friend. Cause that wasn’t quite right, that word wasn’t enough, and it seemed that only when faced with Anakin’s flatlined heart that you could admit that to yourself.

Fate was a cruel thing.

Rex’s hand made its way to your shoulder, giving it an affectionate squeeze as he rocked you back and forth softly “I know Y/N, I know”

-

The first feeling Anakin noted after waking was not pain but rather stiffness.

The bright lights assaulting his unacclimated eyes he could get over easily, but the way his own body fought against him from the moment he opened his eyes, the way it seemed to protest just his breathing, that got to him.

“Well hello there”

Three simple words and Anakin was calm, the tension in his body melting into the mattress beneath him as he took the time to take a deep breath and try and relax.

Obi-wan was here, and if Obi-wan was here then everything was okay, because no matter what shit he had gotten himself into, and over the years there had certainly been a good amount of it, as long as Obi-wan was by his side he knew he could get out of it.

“Where am I?”

His voice sounded weak to his own ears, his very vocal chords grating as he tried to speak, only then realizing how thirsty he was.

“medical unit” Obi-wan answered, coming to his bedside to help Anakin sit up, passing him a cup of water once he was sure he could handle it “I must say we’ve had a lot of close calls in our days my friend, let’s never get that close again”

Anakin just hummed in response, greedily gulping down water.

“What do you remember?”

Finishing the glass Anakin handed the empty vessel back to his master, taking a moment to rack his mind, trying to sort through a jumbled mess of memory. “we were on Corellia” he answered hesitantly “the separatists were attacking we were there with Y/N I think, she went off with her clone army and…” the words died on his tongue, the emptiness of the room hitting him for the first time. His wide panicked gaze met his masters and Obi-wan read his expression easily.

“she’s fine, she had to brief the council”

Anakin sagged back in relief, his breath taking a second to right itself once again “okay-okay good. She’s okay. She separated off and told me to be safe then I-“

“did the exact opposite” Obi-wan supplied with a half smirk, relishing the way that same panicked look grew once again on Anakin’s face in response.

“shit” Anakin swore under his breath, bringing the heels of his palms up to rub at his eyes.

“she’s been by your side since she got to Coruscant” Obi-wan replied, crossing his arms over his chest “had to threaten expelling her from the order just to get her to go give her debrief”

Anakin could only groan in response, his posture slumping further as he did so “scale of 1 to 10 how likely is she to kill me?”

Obi-wan chuckled in response “oh my dear padawan we surpassed double digits long ago”

“it was that bad huh?”

Obi-wan was silent for a moment, hand coming up to rake through his beard in response, a tired sigh escaping him before he spoke again “the first time she saw you since the moment you separated off was when I was giving you chest compressions-“

“Well I’m here now that’s got to be worth something right?” he tried, earning only a single brow raise in response.

Another heavy silence fell over the pair before Obi-wan broke it “After seeing her reaction to finding you like that I feel it is my duty as your master to warn you against forming attachments” Anakin nearly rolled his eyes at the same tired old speech, Obi-wan cutting in to continue speaking before he got the chance to do so “however, as a friend I will say you ever put that girl through something like that again and breaking the Jedi code will be the least of your worries”

Anakin nearly laughed in response, the smile dying on his lips once he brought his gaze up to meet Obi-wans and seeing the seriousness that those eyes held. All words clogging in his throat as he was only able to force up a measly “yes master” that at least seemed to placate him for the moment.

Obi-wan’s posture straightened suddenly, eyes cast towards the closed door as he sensed a presence Anakin had felt coming minutes ago. “I believe that is my que to leave”

Giving Anakin a small bow Obi-wan made his way towards the door, pausing when Anakin suddenly called out “Master…thank you”

Obi-wan smiled warmly in response “It’s good to see you breathing again Anakin. Do your best to keep it that way”

Opening the door Obi-wan paused just in the doorframe, conversing briefly with someone he knew to be you before disappearing.

The entryway to Anakin’s surprise remained empty, empty for long enough to make him worry.

Despite everything though your form crept through the doorway, seeming almost scared to see him.

And though Obi-wan had told him you were okay Anakin couldn’t relax fully until he finally was able to lay eyes on you.

You, however, stayed as tense as ever just inside the door, eyes wide and panicked, gaze pinning him to the spot.

Anakin was almost afraid to move beneath your gaze, afraid any wrong move would break the spell and have you yelling at him.

Cause maker he knew he deserved it but he just woke up, he was alive, and he thought seeing a frown on your face after everything would kill him all over again.

The stare down lasted a tense few seconds as you scanned each other, Anakin noting the bandages wrapped around your palms, the badly bandaged cut on your brow. Maker how many times has he told you to see a medical droid after an assignment instead of trying to do it yourself, some bacta and it would be gone in minutes and he wouldn’t have to stare at the physical reminder of his own failure to protect you, of your own vulnerability.

The two of you seemed to snap out of it at the same moment, finishing your physical examination of one another at the same moment, because as Anakin took a deep breath and started to push himself up you were bound across the room in a near sprint.

Your arms were around his neck within the next second, your body planted in his lap, your chest pushed flush against his. And every part of him hurt with it but he didn’t care for a second because you were in his arms and the only thought running through his mind was that he needed you closer, that no matter how hard he pulled you into him it wasn’t enough because he was alive and you were here and nothing else beyond that mattered.

Much to his displeasure you were pulling back much too quickly and he tried to fight it, tried to keep you against him, tried to seek comfort in your arms as long as possible. But then your palms were cupping his cheeks and all thoughts in his head ceased, your wide eyes were looking directly into his and Anakin could do nothing but freeze, your nose brushed against his and Anakin forgot how to breathe. Then your lips were against his and Anakin suddenly wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t actually died back there.

But Anakin had thought about this too many times to hesitate now, he kissed you back just as fiercely, just as hungrily, one hand coming to the back of your head, fingers threading themselves into your hair at the base of your neck as he pulled you into him, his other hand finding your waist and pulling, seeking out any sort of physical reminder that you were here, really here.

But there you went pulling back again, ending the kiss much too quickly for his liking. He tried to follow you back, tried to pull your lips back to his but you were too stubborn, why did you always have to be this stubborn?

Before his mind could even process what had happened, before he could even mourn to loss of your body against his, your hand was raised and Anakin felt a sharp sting on his cheek, a pain he was only 60% sure was new at this point.

He forced his eyes open only to be met with the anger in your eyes he had been expecting since you had walked into the room.

You were pulling back again, getting up from the bed to your feet, fingertips trailing down the sheets that separated his body from yours absentmindedly but leaving a trail of sparks in their wake for Anakin. He tried to reach for them but you were too quick pulling them back, coming up to stand alongside his bed.

He could acknowledge you were talking now, or rather ranting fit it better, but he was too busy trying to reach you, trying to pull you back down on top of him, too busy cursing his every ache and pain that kept him from standing up and following you.

“cannot believe you thought it was a good idea to go off on your own what were you thinking? No scratch that I knew what you were thinking and it was nothing-“

Your words vaguely registered in the back of his mind as you paced back and forth, scolding him. “you’re right, I’m sorry, come here” the words rushed out of his mouth as he tried to reach out to you again.

But you never even acknowledged that he had spoke, continuing your rant without a hiccup “you cannot keep doing this to me, to Obi-wan, to Rex, throwing yourself into every dangerous situation without any regard for your life-“

And all Anakin could focus on were your lips as you spoke. Was it just him or did they seem slightly pinker than before? Slightly swollen. A soft sheen on them from saliva, his saliva, maker how he wanted to add to it. He hummed non-committally to whatever you had just said.

You hadn’t even looked at him as you ranted, your eyes planted on your feet as you paced rapidly before his bed “you promised me you’d be careful and this is how you thought you would go about upholding that promise? Because I have news for you if you really thought that was a good plan-“

He hadn’t even gotten the chance to really enjoy himself, enjoy the feeling of your lips against his, the taste of you on his tongue. With every second that passed with you still all the way across the room he became less and less convinced that the kiss had really happened. At this point he didn’t really care if he had imagined the whole thing he was just desperate to recreate it.

His bed shook slightly as your hands came to rest on the foot of it and your eyes for the first time this entire rant connected with his and Anakin’s focus finally zeroed in, yours seeming to do the same, the both of you acknowledging in that moment you hadn’t listened to a single word the other had said in the past five minutes.

Another tense silence passed, each being unsure of what to say to the other, before a tear falling down your cheek broke it. “Ani I found you while Obi-wan was doing chest compressions, I only found you after you had died”

And for the first time the weight of his own stupid actions seemed to hit him. Because he could tell himself that he was doing it for you, or for Obi-wan, but truly Anakin hadn’t ever thought about what would happen after he made the decision to do something stupid. And here he was dealing with those consequences.

You were scared, you were scared and sad and Anakin had done that to you and he wasn’t sure he could forgive himself for that.

“Y/N please” he begged softly, one arm extended out to you.

And finally you listened to him, too slowly making your way back to his bedside, and Anakin wasted no time in wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling your head into his chest.

You went willingly, your arms wrapping around his torso, burying yourself into him with a relieved sigh as Anakin buried his nose in your hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“I’m so sorry Y/N” he whispered into your hair and for a second you didn’t respond, simply stayed in his arms, listened to the sound of his heart beat, reminded yourself he was really here, before replying, your voice muffled slightly by his shirt.

“You better be Skywalker”

And despite everything Anakin couldn’t help but chuckle at your threat, arms tightening slightly around you as he fondly kissed the top of your head once more.

“If I promised to be more careful would you kiss me again?”

It came out in a teasing tone but you froze at the question, your entire body tensing beneath his touch before slowly pulling back to better look at him, your eyes wide in panic “maker I kissed you”

“you did” he agreed eagerly, hand coming up to cup your cheek.

You brushed aside his hand without a thought, your panicked state leaving Anakin much too amused “I didn’t even ask you or warn you or tell you how I feel I just kissed you, maker Ani”

“And I’m asking you to do it again” he chuckled, hand wrapping around your wrist and giving it a small tug trying to pull you back into him.

“I could’ve ruined everything” you continued to rant, eyes unfocused as you spoke “We’ve known each other since we were nine and I just kissed you like that wasn’t going to change everything what was I thinking”

“I’m thinking if you don’t kiss me now my heart may stop…again”

Your response was immediate, one fist shooting out and connecting solidly to his shoulder causing the jedi to groan softly “Ani that’s not funny”

Nonetheless Anakin took advantage of the way you leaned forward slightly to hook one hand around the back of your neck and crash your lips sloppily into his, a happy groan escaping him once you had finally connected.

Yet again you were pulling back but Anakin learned from his mistakes, never letting you get far. “I want it on record this does not mean I condone you injuring yourself”

“You got it sweetheart” Anakin mumbled back without much thought, pulling you back into him to let your lips connect once again, relishing the few seconds you eagerly kissed him back before you pulled back once again.

“And you can’t just say whatever you think I want to hear just so I’ll kiss you”

“mhm sure whatever you want baby” he responded with a hum before pulling you in again, an exasperated groan escaping him when you once again pulled back too soon.

“I mean it you have to promise me Ani”

Anakin’s other hand came up to cup your check, gaze desperately seeking out yours as he held your head mere inches from his own “I promise you I will not put myself unnecessarily into danger going forward” and without giving you a chance to respond he was kissing you again, committing every second to memory as he threaded his fingers through your hair.

Your hands planted on his chest as you pulled back again, barely getting out your “and one more-“ before Anakin was responding with a simple “no” pulling you back into him, the Jedi’s desperation making you giggle against his lips as you happily kissed him back.

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