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[newsplexn]

Be confident by wearing summer business attire for men near you. If you want a professional look in a summer outfit, then choosing a summer business dress is the best option. Say goodbye to summer worries and enjoy your work with easy and comfortable summer attire.

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[paradiseprincesss]

Omg hi!!! I absolutely LOVED espresso it's so cute!! Would you be open to doing some major fluff with Jim (delinquent season)? Thanks so much!!!!

CPR - jim (delinquent season) x reader

hello lovely anon! THANK YOU! that means so much to me i appreciate your kind words! and yes, of course, we love love LOVE jim over here - he is criminally underrated. he's dreamy.

summary: after a shitty, messy, and rough divorce, jim is hesitant to love again - but he falls for a younger woman who changes his mind, and teaches him how to love again.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: so there is a large age gap (everyone is of legal age, jim is in his mid forties, reader is just described as 'in college,' so take that how you will), kissing, swearing, divorce, jim's employed as a professor but the reader isn't his student! other than that, no warnings just fluff lol

we don't chose who we fall in love with - at least, that's what jim always thought, and that's what he told himself.

jim never pictured himself to be the type of guy to date a younger woman, he always thought it was a little strange actually because what would someone his age have in common with someone roughly 20 years younger than him?

well, more than he thought.

he didn't intend on falling in love with you. he just...did. jim met you through a friend of his, weirdly enough. he had just finalized his divorce with his ex-wife, which was messy and screwed his perception of love up quite a bit - anyone would feel that way after finding out that their spouse of over a decade was having an affair.

so yeah, jim had some issues revolving around love.

with that being said, when an old college buddy of his (who he talked to a few times a year at most through facebook or text, and occasionally over the phone) had rung him up about how he had moved back to ireland and was having some old friends over for dinner just for old times sake, he figured sure, he'd go since he had nothing better to do.

fast forward to a week later, he showed up in his usual attire - casual slacks and sweater - and was greeted by a handful of his old college friends. jim couldn't lie - it was nostalgic, and frankly, kind of refreshing to be out socializing and living life again after his divorce. it had been a good 6 months since the divorce, and he was honestly feeling good for once.

"jim, hey!" his old college roommate, dan, greeted him at the door. "come on in, we're just having some beers in the living room, the games gonna be on soon."

the night went well, jim got to catch up with his old buddies from his college days, and they spent the evening drinking beers and fussing over the game on tv.

"so, i heard 'bout the ex-wife. hey, i'm sorry, man." another old acquaintance of his, ryan, had said to him.

jim laughed lightly, "s'alright. shit happens, i guess." to which all the other men just murmured and agreed with.

the conversations flowed well, and honestly - it felt good to rant about his ex-wife with some old buddies, and openly talk about his divorce like this - what she did was fucked up. he felt like he needed to and should be able to vent, too.

as the men were busy shouting at the tv, beers in hand, a softer voice called out, "dad?" and jim's buddy dan looked over his shoulder to see his daughter, standing in the doorway of the living room with a small smile.

jim looked away from the game momentarily, out of curiosity - and good god did his heart stop when he did. he was aware that dan had a daughter in college and he knew of her name, but he didn't realize how beautiful she was. the two of them locked eyes for a split second, and he looked away slightly embarrassed.

he didn't really know why he was embarrassed, it's not like he was doing anything shameful or wrong - but finding your friends daughter who was still a college student when he was in his forties was definitely wrong in a sense, well- to a certain degree.

"oh, hey sweetie, i didn't even realize you were still up." dan says to his daughter.

"it's only..." you pause, checking your phone, "half past eight, dad. plus, i'm stuck on this stupid essay my professor assigned to us yesterday." you laugh softly - lightheartedly, and jim felt his heart skip a few beats.

"oh, that's no good," dan says, "jim's a professor, i'm sure he won't mind if you asked him a few questions - maybe he can help you." your dad shrugs, looking at jim and then focusing back on the game.

you blush slightly, and you knew your dad was just being friendly and trying to be helpful - but suggesting you get his older (and really attractive!) friend who just so happened to be a professor to help you with your essay seemed...well, it was like one of those storylines you'd see in a movie, or a book...or something.

"um, dad, i'm sure jim doesn't want to step away from watching the game to help with homework-" you start to say, but in a moment of confidence (and a little alcohol), jim cut you off with a gentle tone.

"no- no, it's no worries, really. i was going to get up and grab another pint anyways." he says, getting up to go to the kitchen. you just walk with him into the kitchen, somewhat at a loss for words.

you get a better look at him under the dimmed kitchen lights, and you could already feel yourself getting nervous in his presence. you never found any of your dads friends attractive before - but jim, well, he was different.

the salt and pepper hair was...really hot. and god, those eyes. those glacier coloured eyes; you barely had a chance to even meet the man and somehow he had you in a chokehold before you spoke more than just a few sentences to each other.

"so," he broke the silence, "watcha studying?"

you quietly told him what you were majoring in, and he nodded, smiling at you softly, "well, i don't teach that particular subject or major - but i'll try and help you out regardless."

you retuned the small smile, "y-yeah, okay. cool."

for the next hour or so, the two of you sat closely next to one another at the dining table, your textbooks and papers sprawled out in front of you, with the doc you were writing open on your laptop. he helped you structure your essay and the two of you were about 80% done with it - that was until he requested that you turn back the page of your textbook.

"wait, go back to page 116 i think it says something about that at the bottom of the page." he tells you, reaching out to turn the pages back in the textbook. however, you also reached to turn the page back - causing the both of your hands to touch, to swiftly brush against each other.

with a small blush, you quickly pull back, still nervous. "sorry."

he laughs softly, shaking his head, "no need to be sorry."

taking a deep breath, you respond, "sorry- sorry, i keep saying sorry-"

"you okay?" he offers a gentle smile, and you felt your heart start racing a million miles per minute. you weren't one to get easily flustered like this - you never got this nervous, certainly not around guys your own age, at least.

jim didn't know why - but he felt the same way. however, he tried to play it cool. he had been on a few dates with a few different women here and there post divorce, but all of them were dead ends. however, with you, it almost felt like he had known you for a lifetime even though he had only just met you.

"yeah, just..." you trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words again. he looked at you with an expression that you couldn't quite read, and his gaze flickered to your lips - then back to your face. "just what?" he whispers to you, and you felt yourself drowning in his impossibly blue eyes.

suddenly, you felt his gentle hand on your thigh, and your breath hitched as he whispered to you again. "just what?"

"just kiss me." you whisper back, and with that, his hands were gently coming up to cup your face, and he kissed you softly.

you'd never kissed someone so much older than you before, and the thought of it made your head dizzy. after a moment, the both of you pulled away from the kiss, but his hand remained on your face.

"is it...is it strange if i ask you if i could take you out to dinner sometime?" he asks quietly, and you felt your cheeks heat up at the question.

"not at all, i'd love that." you smile at him.

again, falling in love wasn't part of the plan, but jim didn't really have a choice when it came to you. it just happened so naturally.

"sweetheart?' you hear his voice call out softly and the sound of the door closing, and you turn around to see him coming home from work - god, you loved when he wore his little sweaters with the sleeves rolled up half way - it really got you going.

"baby, hi." you greet him softly, bundled up in a blanket on the couch of his living room. "how was work?"

he slumps down beside you, pulling you into him softly with a sigh, kissing the top of your head. "it was alright, finished teaching my lecture earlier than expected so that was good." he tells you, voice gentle and tone loving.

"mm, well i'm glad to have you home early." you tell him sweetly, pulling him into a chaste kiss.

"what would you like for dinner, sweetheart?" he asks you, and you shrug, "jim, you worked all day, you don't have to make dinner it's fine." to which he shook his head and insisted, "how about some pasta?"

"jim," you whine softly, "you're so cute, i love you."

"i love you too, honey." he says, kissing you again.

after the date you two had, things just seemed to flow effortlessly. you'd never been with an older man before - and he was so very attentive to your every need, every want, every boundary you had - he took things slow with you, never ever pressuring you into anything.

now, six months later, you and jim had been dating for a few months, while you were still adjusting to dating someone roughly 20 years your senior - it was something you wouldn't change.

jim felt the same way - things were different with you. being with a younger woman was fun, it was new. you taught him things as much as he taught you things. with his ex-wife, there was no trust. no real love. no meaning to life, even though the two of them had kids together, it didn't change the fact that he always felt like he was married to someone he didn't know - a stranger.

you weren't a stranger, though - no, you were quite the opposite to him. you made him feel at home, you were his home. he often found himself wondering where he'd be if you weren't by his side. probably gone, he thinks.

after dinner and a steamy shower together, the two of you laid in his bed together, your head on his chest and his arms holding you in a warm embrace.

"...i want you to meet my kids." he suddenly tells you, and you turn your head to look up at him with love in your eyes, "yeah?" you whisper, causing him to whisper back a quiet "yeah" back to you.

he softly takes your hand and intertwines it with his own, a content sigh leaving his lips. "would you ever want to get married again?" you ask quietly - not even sure why you felt the sudden urge to ask that, but you did anyway.

he was quiet for a moment.

jim never thought he would re-marry, in fact, he didn't even think he'd ever find someone that he would want to marry after his ex-wife. but that was before he found you.

"i wouldn't ask you to meet my kids if i didn't plan on marrying you." he finally says, pulling you even closer. your breath hitched when he confessed that, and you felt yourself blushing a little too. "you mean that?" you ask him, to which he squeezed your hand.

"you made me love again - i sound corny, but i'm dead serious. i was at the end, then you came into my life... you made me feel like there was life worth living."

"oh, jim," you whisper, a little breathless at his continuous admissions about how much he loved you, "you're my everything."

he looked at you with admiration, and smiled softly at you. you were his everything, too. he often wondered if you knew that. if you knew how much he adored you. in a world where he felt like nobody understood him - you did. you were the only one he ever confided in.

your love fixed all his pain, your love fixed his heart - and you didn't even know. you didn't even know how much you were fixing a heart that you didn't break.

he felt like he was revived in a sense - brought back to life from the dead. brought back from his inevitable death of a marriage that had minced his heart. but now, things were different because he had you.

and you - you were the only thing that could jumpstart his flatlining heart again - like CPR.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #jonathan crane x f!reader #jonathan crane x reader #cillian fic #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy imagine #cillian x fem!reader #jim the delinquent season #jim delinquent season #jim delinquent season x reader #jim x reader #the delinquent season imagine #robert fischer x y/n #robert fischer x reader #robert fischer #robert fischer imagine

[strawburry01]

Northern Attitude

Summary: The team goes out to a small Montana town facing a random string of murders pointing to a new cult forming in the woods around town. Only once they get there does Hotch realize he recognizes the assistant chief for the town force- someone from his university days.

Word Count: 3k

No smut just angsty, maybe not entirely canon compliant but nothing crazy.

Authors Note: Let me know if folks want a part 2 (you may get one anyway, but my brain hasn't decided yet), or any one offs from Hotch and the characters time in uni. I have ideas...

It was another cold morning in your room. You refused to go to bed if it wasn’t comfortably cocooned in at least three blankets, but it did mean getting out of bed in the morning was particularly dreadful. You groan as you stretch your back hearing it pop as you twist. Eventually, you push yourself out of your warm pile of blankets and pillows to take a shower to wake up and start the day.

You worked as an assistant chief in your small Montana town. Things were slow for the most part. Nobody beyond the average population, except for the summers when the tourists came in for hiking and camping, but even then, it was never too much. A few rambunctious teens some nights, the occasional robbery of the convenience store downtown, a random carjacking every other month, but this had all come to a screeching halt when a random string of murders popped up over the last few weeks. Unfortunately, based on the scenes and your analysis, it seemed cult related, bringing a lot more attention, specifically from the government, to your once quaint town. 

Shuffling back to your room after your shower you throw on your average attire, black slacks, blue button up, and boots. Being a woman in a small town police force wasn’t easy, but you’d done your time. It only took a few cases before the men started realizing you meant business, and often would run the opposite direction in the office whenever they saw you walking in with a bad mood knowing you would make their life a living hell. Graduating from university with both electrical engineering and criminology made you stand out when you entered the workforce all those years ago, but the quiet side of you still yearned for silence and a work life balance, which is something you did get all the way out here. Well, at least before this all. You’d been working overtime every night into the late hours trying to figure out what you were dealing with. All you had was your bed every couple hours at night before your brain would wake you up again with a flood of new theories and ideas. You’d be happy when this was over, for all the reasons.

You jump into your truck and quickly blow onto your mug of coffee to cool it down as you head out to the latest scene. You swear out loud as you nearly spill it onto your lap as you take a turn too sharp. You crank the volume of your radio up to help wake you up and try to put you in a good mindset. You never tried to come to work in a bad mood, in fact you tried to come in on the cusp of being annoyingly positive and cautiously optimistic. You knew this line of work was easy to get sucked down into and spiral, you’d seen it before, hell you lived it before when you were fresh out of university. It’s what got you out working in a big city, or for a bigger federal office. 

You pull into the parking lot alongside the other police vehicles that had already shown up for the day. This latest murder scene was unfortunately in an empty field behind an abandoned high school. Definitely not creepy at all, you thought to yourself as you got out and eyed the several busted windows on the second floor. You grab your backpack and mug as you make your way to the tent set up with the team’s temporary office with laptops and files from the case.

“Morning boys,” you hum as you step underneath the tent, observing the open screens. You get a few ‘good mornings’ back. Some of the guys had been working since the scene was called in and you could tell. Dammit you should have brought coffee or doughnuts for them.

“Cheers boss”, one of the officers, Carter, sighs to you as he walks into the tent, clinking his coffee with yours. Carter had always been one of your favorites, he was young, wide-eyed, but still meant business. He’d grown up in the area so he knew all the folks like they were family. You let out a small smirk as you sip your coffee, starting to map out the plan for today.

You’d have to scour the entire field. And the entire school. You didn’t want a single potential lead or clue or mistake from them to be lost. The team would hate it but it needed to be done.

“Alright team find a friend and meet back here in ten minutes. You’re going to be split between the school and the field and I need all of it thoroughly searched. Heard?” you said, leaning on the table facing the team you had. They all nodded or chirped back a complaint which you laughed at, “you got ten minutes to warm up”.

You leaned back on the front of your truck as you took out a cigarette and placed it between your lips. Lighting it up you stared out into the field. Dappled with yellows and oranges, you can’t even see the ground through the wheat and piles of ancient dirt. Why here? Any other day this would be beautiful, but knowing a murder happened right here made it such a tragic scene. There’s a crackle of gravel from an incoming car behind you. Probably the chief coming in, albeit uncharacteristically early since he usually stayed in the office until things got really hairy. You sighed as you let a cloud of smoke out of your lips, staring up at the sun. Your phone buzzes against your hip and you lazily slide it out before checking it. 

It’s a text from the chief. “Federal Bureau coming in today. Play nice.”. Your stomach flips. FBI? Well shit. Also how rude of him not to text you any earlier than right now. “Who?”, you texted back. You see the cursed three dots pop up and down a few times before the text actually sends. “BAU”. You nearly drop your cigarette out of your mouth at your jaw dropping. 

As if on some otherworldly cursed cue.

“Y/n?” a terribly familiar voice says from behind you. You take a sharp inhale, before taking out your cigarette and turning your head, trying to look charming as hell.

“Hello dear Aaron,” you say with a smile on your face, seeing the man who’d been stuck in your thoughts since the day he left your side. 

It’s his eyes that never changed. They still scrunch up as he smiles at you.

“I didn’t know this was your town,” he said as he moved beside you. You look up at him, placing your cigarette back between your lips and shrugging with a smirk plastered on the side of your face. You catch his eyes quickly flickering over you, just as you look over him. He used to be skinny, studious, almost a nerd, but the man that stood in front of you now was built, stern, and serious. 

“I got told a few seconds ago that you’d be here at all. Chief keeps me on my toes,” you remarked, internally thinking about how you actually wanted to wring his neck for not telling you sooner. 

When you woke up this morning you did not- in a thousand years-  expect Aaron Hotchner to show up at your work. At your crime scene. It was a tumultuous mix of excitement, nerves, intrigue, and still a bit of anger. You hadn’t seen him in years, let alone reached out. Ever since ending on a sour note you never tried, mostly because you knew he wouldn’t respond- not out of spite but just because he was so busy and focused on work. It was admirable, but also so annoying.

“You smoke now?” he asked, snapping you out of your mental musings. He was eyeing disapprovingly the cigarette still hanging in the corner of your mouth. 

“You wear contacts now?” you retorted, raising an eyebrow. He sharply laughed and looked back to his team as they approached.

“Have for a while” he said, turning back to you.

“Haven’t known for a while” you snipped before throwing your cigarette butt onto the ground and smashing it out with your heel to free yourself to meet his team. “We’ll talk later Aaron” you said with a nod which he nodded back to, ending this conversation, knowing more pressing things existed than-

your-

university-

situationship- 

showing up again in your life. 

Aaron’s team pops up behind him and brings you back to focus. Dammit there was a murder on your watch and you could only think of this fucking man. Grow up, you swore in your head as you forced a customer service smile onto your face. 

“Team this is y/n l/n, a friend from university,” he said as he gestured to you. He couldn’t make eye contact when he called you just a friend. You noticed two of the men on the team elbowed each other, no doubt in shock their boss actually had friends outside of work at some point in his life. 

Aaron introduced you to his team and you tried to run through their names in your head as you shook their hands. You were terrible with names. Agent Reid was the twiggy one who looked perpetually deep in thought, Agent Morgan was the one with the tight black shirt who who had an air of confidence about him, Agent Jareau was the sweet blonde who acted like the unofficial mother of the group, and Rossi who was the tired old dad of the group. I’m sure Aaron loved being bossed around by him, you thought to yourself as you shook his hand. He seemed nice, but Aaron had never been one to not be the one in charge- the little control freak. 

You brought them to your tent to introduce them to your folks, trying to get everyone on the same page with daylight burning. Later than expected due to the guests everyone was ready to actually start looking through the field and school. You felt Aaron’s eyes on you as you told everyone to pair off, but you nabbed Carter before he could object. 

The search of both areas wasn’t as successful as you had hoped. The school had some ominous latin scribbled onto the walls in red, which had been determined to be blood on the scene, although it wasn’t the latest victims. Reid had somehow been able to translate the latin- you could see in an instant why they kept him around.

“So what’s the deal with you and the FBI guy?” Carter asks when you get to the smack dab middle of the field. Your neck hurts from craning over the ground, trying to not let a speck of earth go unseen. 

“What do you mean?” you ask back, not looking up as you continue scanning the ground.

“I’ve never seen you flustered,” he quips as he pauses, “you actually like-I don’t know it was just weird” he said and half heartedly shrugged as he looked back at the group that had begun to reform by the tent. 

“It’s complicated,” you said, knowing that the young adult in him would eat the drama up. Sure enough, he perked up.

“Yeah? What is it? You got an ex?” he said, nudging you.

But that was the problem. He wasn’t an ex. He wasn’t really an anything. He was a friend, sure, but friends also didn’t make out in the corners of parties as much as you two had. And friends didn’t stay up until sunrise testing each other for the upcoming exams every single finals week. And friends didn’t invite each other to spend weekends at their family vacation cabin alone. 

“No, no, no, just-” you tried to explain to no avail, not even knowing how to justify this to yourself, “okay maybe,”. Carter let out a low whistle.

“Hey if my ex showed up to work I’d be flipping the fuck out, you’re handling this really well,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. You chuckle at the kids joke.

“Sometimes it’s just nicer to see a familiar face, you’ll get it when you’re older,” you said, knowing hated when you pulled the you’ll understand when you’re older card. He rolled his eyes and groaned. 

Once the sun started setting you made your way back to the huddle that was forming of everything theorizing and laying out the evidence. Tomorrow would be busy in the office working to get everything categorized and bagged. You leaned up against your truck again, just like you did this morning, and pulled out another cigarette, flicking the lighter onto the end. You waved your team over and told them to head home for the night. You knew a lot of them had families at home, and you tried to be respectful of it all, even if you didn’t have your own. Some of the security officers watching the spot for the night stayed and mingled with the BAU team a ways away from you, and you settled your sights on the pink hue of the clouds as the sun lowered.

A familiar body moved next to you. You didn’t have to turn to know it was Aaron. You blew a cloud of smoke out the other side of your lips and stayed quiet, waiting for him to start. He had his hands jammed in his coat pockets, his shoulder grazing against yours. People used to laugh at the height difference back in university, and it had only gotten worse it seemed, or at least Aaron walked around with much more presence these days. You were leaning up against the front grate of your truck and felt Aaron slowly move his arm behind you, holding onto the grate on the other side of your hip. Feeling his arm behind you felt so familiar. 

“There’s Latin at the other scenes too,” he said, facing straight ahead into the sun.

“Shit,” you said as you slowly nodded, realizing that the scribbles would not just be nothing. There was a moment of silence before he broke it again.

“Do you hate me?” he asked, glancing down for a second, but long enough for you to meet eyes before you looked away.

“You know I could never hate you,” you said begrudgingly, knowing it was the truth. His arm got closer to your back at that and you leaned further onto it, “it’s really annoying honestly” you halfheartedly laughed. You heard him laugh under his breath. You swallowed your pride and leaned in, resting your head on the side of his torso, letting out another cloud to try and soothe your nerves. 

“It’s nice out here,” he said, looking out at the sunset still which had only gotten deeper pink and orange. 

“ ‘S quiet,” you agreed, “I don’t know how you do it in the big leagues,”. 

“You know you could’ve too,” he said, looking down. You stayed staring straight ahead.

“I’m not doing this argument again Aaron,” you said curtly, as you eyed him back. He shrugged and turned away again. 

“You know you could have that’s all,”. 

“You ever think I’m okay with it out here? You ever think I don’t need to kill myself over every case with the fate of the world hanging on it?” you said, raising your voice a little.

“I’m just saying you were one of the best and you could do a lot in the bureau,” he said back, “in the BAU,” he tested. You let out an angry air of smoke from your cigarette.

“Dammit Aaron don’t do this again,” you said, cutting him off before he can say anything else. You throw your cigarette onto the gravel and kick some rocks over the smoldering residue, “I’m happy here, can’t you just be okay with that?”. Aaron watched you and sighed and shifted in his spot, taking the second to move his hand from the car to your waist. 

“I’m sorry Y/N,” he said, and he meant it. You sighed.

“I’m not going to be able to convince you to stay huh?” you asked, trying to joke, but inside you really did mean it earnestly. His thumb rubbed your side. It had been a while since you felt like this.

“I don’t think you’re able to,” he responded, sadness tinging his voice. The two of you stood, leaning into each other watching the sun finally dip behind the hills in the distance.

A few yards away Morgan stood on the phone, peeking around a car before ducking back. Garcia was not going to believe this shit.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotch hotchner #hotch x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #bau team

[livyjh]

Unexpected Visitor

Din Djarin x Reader

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+

Word count: 1.6k

Entire work can be found on ao3 here

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14

Din Djarin Masterlist

Description: You work in a brothel, an exciting new customer enters and you get to service him.

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

It was summer in Imperial City, and had to be the hottest day of the year, you guessed. Thankfully, your normal work attire only included a bra, panties, and a thin robe.

There were pros and cons to working in a place like this during summer. On one hand, it was the busy season and you haven’t felt this rich in years. The heat made everyone horny. On the other hand, customers were generally sweaty and sometimes even stank from it. But you charged accordingly.

It was nearing 8pm and most of the other women were in rooms or on break, which left you welcoming any and all new customers when they walked in.

You could hear footsteps outside the door before the person entered. You were nearly startled by the sight.

Beskar armor, head to toe. It wasn’t hard to tell, the unique shine of it dazzled you.

“Hello,” you started, trying to keep your breathing even. “How can I help you?”

He stared at you for a long second. He scanned the room before turning his helmet to face you again. “How much?” He was straight to the point.

“Depends on what you want.” You informed him, shifting your weight to your left side and putting a hand on that hip, free hand wiping a bead of sweat from your forehead.

He didn’t say anything.

“Handies are 50. Blows are 75. Fucks are 200.” You raise a brow at him, wondering if he’s just got a bad attitude.

The masked man reaches into a pouch and hands you some credits. You count them. 200.

“Come on back… uh-“ you hold out a hand, gesturing, hoping he’ll give you a name.

“Mando.” He says shortly.

“Mando.” You nod, smiling at him as you lead him back to a room. “Ground rules; no violence, no shitting, no pissing. The rest is fair game.”

“Mhm.” He agrees quickly.

Once you’re both in the room, you shut and lock the door. You turn around to see the man placing his gloves on the dresser. It was the only skin on him you could see.

“Gonna take forever to get that armor off.” You observe.

“It’s staying on.” He spoke firmly.

“Okay.” You nod, heat pooling in your stomach. You didn’t know if it was the dominance, the voice, or the way he was disguised by the helmet, but something was intriguing about him.

You weren’t sure how to start things, unable to read his hidden face. You weren’t stupid, you knew that men of his kind couldn’t show their faces.

Nonetheless, you gathered yourself and walked over to him, placing your hands on his chest.

He reached down and wasted no time untying your robe before pushing it off of you. His hands were rough, calloused. They felt like high grit sandpaper against your well moisturized, dewy skin. The bedrooms were hotter than the front of the building, which meant you were sweating even a little more now. You couldn’t imagine how hot he was under his armor and layers of clothing.

The Mandalorian stepped back, admiring your figure as he held your waist. “Mm.” He hummed.

You could almost feel yourself blushing. This was out of the ordinary for you. To be fair, a lot of men you serviced were submissive. You had a dominant side that you used a lot, but it was nice when someone else was willing to take the lead.

He sat on the bed and patted his thighs with each hand, gesturing for you to have a seat.

You nodded, walking to the bed and putting a leg on each side of his hips to straddle him.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in against his chest.

The cold metal made you gasp, but something about the sensation caused you to become wetter. You bit your lip and looked at the visor, having to guess where his eyes were.

“You’re pretty.” He cooed.

You smiled, slinging your arms around his shoulders. “Thanks.”

In one swift move, the Mandalorian flipped you onto your back, getting on top of you while staying between your legs. You tried to hold back a moan, barely able to stifle it.

Mando snaked a hand between your legs, pushing your panties aside and sliding his fingertip between your lips.

“Fuck.” You cursed, eyes closing from the pleasure. You could literally hear how wet you were as his finger slid up and down through your folds.

“Are you always this wet?” Mando asked.

You took a second to answer, opening your eyes and finally shaking your head.

His finger rubbed upwards against your clit, making your legs clamp around him.

“Ah ah, open up.” He encouraged.

You let your bent legs relax, the apex of your thighs widening as he pushed a finger into you.

“Good girl.” The Mandalorian spoke softly, pushing his finger inside until he could feel your g-spot. He curled his finger slightly, letting the rough pad of his fingertip graze against that special place inside you.

You couldn’t help the whine that escaped you, your eyes rolling back into your head.

He continued his ministrations, making your head spin when he pushed a second finger inside. You clamped down around his digits, making a groan come through the helmet.

He pulled his fingers out of you suddenly, bringing them to your lips. You froze for a moment.

He tilted his helmet just slightly, a silent “do it.”

You let your jaw drop and take his slick fingers into your mouth, sucking on them, licking them and swirling your tongue around them, moaning as you tasted yourself.

He pulls his fingers from your mouth after you sufficiently cleaned them, groping your left breast as you feel his hardness press against you.

You hear him groan as his hips push into yours, and you swear to your maker it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard.

You gasp as he grips the fabric of your bra cup and yanks it down before grabbing your bare breast with his large hand. He cups it for a moment before moving to rub his thumb over your hardened nipple.

“Mando…” you trail off, watching him intently. You could tell that getting other people off, got him off. You wished he’d take off the damn helmet, put his mouth on you somewhere. Or just put his cock in you already.

Like he read your mind, he pulled back just enough to push the front of his pants down. He pulled out his cock and you practically choked on air at the sight of it.

It was thick, had to be 7 or 8 inches, the head was a deep pink and a bead of precum lingered at his slit. He pulled your panties to the side once more, lining up with your entrance.

He stared down at where his dick met your pussy as he pushed inside. “Such a good girl. Taking my cock.” He muttered, breathless.

You whined in response, breathing hard enough you thought you might fog up his helmet if he were any closer.

Once he was fully seated inside of you, he pulled back out with a slow drag, then back in a little faster this time.

You grabbed the armor over his shoulders, wishing there was skin for you to touch or dig your nails into.

The Mandalorian watched himself pull in and out of you, your juices soaking him so he could move in and out of you easier, faster.

Soon, he was fucking you into the mattress, helmet close to your face. And you were, in fact, fogging up the outside of it (about where his mouth and chin would be).

“F- feel so fu- fucking good.” He stutters, angling his hips to get even deeper inside of you. All the while, his hand finds its way between your legs again, rough thumb rubbing over your clit.

“Please.” You gasp.

“Tell me what you want.” He orders.

“More.” Your hand reaches down to press his thumb harder into your clit.

He obliges, rubbing circles against you hard enough to make your eyes cross.

You arch your back as your climax quickly approaches, the cold beskar on his torso pressing against your stomach.

“M- Mando, gonna cum-“ you barely get the words out before your orgasm rips through you like lightning.

“Ahh, good girl. Fuck, such. A. Good. Girl.” He emphasizes each word with a hard thrust into you and you’re certain you black out for a moment.

When you come to, he’s still fucking you hard, thumb on your pleasure button like before. He was relentless and you knew you were going to cum again.

“Almost. There.” He groans.

You nod in agreement, unable to form any words as you wipe sweat off the side of your face.

Suddenly, his cock is twitching, shooting ropes of cum deep into you as he fucking whines.

This tips you over the edge once more and you’re nearly screaming, eyes squeezed shut as you spasm around him.

He keeps thrusting for a good 10-20 seconds before slowing to a stop. He keeps his dick inside of you for a few minutes as it softens, finally pulling out with a groan.

He’s breathing hard through the modulator as he scoots back and stands up from the bed, tucking himself back into his pants.

He faces you and clears his throat. “Thank you.” He grabs his gloves, and as quickly as he came, he was gone. He shuts the door behind himself, leaving you there breathless and leaking his cum.

You hoped he’d come back.

#din djarin #the mandolarian #mandalorian #smut #reader insert #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin smut #mandalorian smut #helmet #the helmet stays on

[tsukiyouyuis]

Why is Diluc so attractive? A list of headcanons...

Since my friend is writing fics about Genshin men and is working on knowing them better + looking for more ideas, I came up a list of headcanons of Diluc and hopefully it will be an inspiration.

However, I suddenly found it’s surprisingly enjoyable to read them and it might be an good idea for me to post them here. Just to share my random thoughts/fantasies about Diluc as a faithful simp and hopefully to give people ideas for writing :)

Please note:

Most of them are implied🔞 so minors who are under 18 please respect yourselves and stop reading under the cut.

The only pronoun I used is "you" without specifying the gender. However, I wrote them in a fem! reader's POV (aka my POV). So basically it was me who are talking about Diluc to myself.

These headcanons are 100% based on my own fantasies and interpretations about Diluc. All of them are extremely PERSONAL. If you don't like them, it's fine and I respect whatever opinions you have. Just simply exit the post, but please don't be rude.

If you are okay with the above, please enjoy :)

Maid kink: He is so damn calm with all his maids in the winery but somehow gets aroused when seeing you in the maid outfit. Hmmm is that the reason why he has so many spare maid outfits in the storage...?

He’s busy but still a MAN so sometimes he fantasize about you and does SOME STUFF on his own to de-stress. He thinks you don't know about it but what if you actually do?

He likes to tie (and to be tied up by a certain someone maybe?) so he has a whole collection of belts, thigh straps, chains and other straps maybe idk (for himself or who knows…)

He takes care of his hair very well so they are fluffy all the time but does he know that his ponytail is so grabbable…? Imagine how his face will look like when you grab his fluffy red hair during your intimacies...

He likes to kiss you and to be kissed by you, very much. But when you kiss him with a whole bunch of people that both of you know he gets so shy. Try to tease and kiss the bartender and then do the same when only you two are in the tavern…You better be prepared.

This is very personal but Diluc exploring and fighting in Dragonspine just gets you all the time without any reasons. He creates flame and heat that will melt every inch of snow and ice. He usually wears black + along with his red hair flying in the snow and wind just makes the most beautiful scenery in all over teyvat… He’s gonna be so warm and bright and sure he wouldn’t mind making you warm OR you making him warmER in the way you both like.

Being born and raised in one of the prestigious aristocratic clans in Mondstadt, Diluc is very good at dancing and knows very well of those manners. But do you know he can sing as well? He would sing for you and dance with you, making you falling into his arms with his comforting voice. Someone said the song Sway is sang by Diluc and now you cannot unhear it…

Sometimes you think Diluc is wearing too many layers especially in the summer. Isn’t he hot??? But you also know that he would only wear a shirt with the buttons half done when not being in public or meeting guests and that’s so sexy of him??

He also wouldn’t mind you take his formal clothes off, destroy the rest of the buttons of his shirt (he has tons of them anyway), splash wine on his clothes or on him….and he would do the same to you afterwards.

Another one for the outfits he wears: The bartender attire! The gloves are not covering his wrists like what they are in his usual outfits and that’s so attractive to you. In addition the suits and the vest fit him so well and you can see the shape of his body. Just try to grab his uncovered wrist and pull off his glove when he handles the drinks to you…Will he be mad at you?

Okay you need to STOP fantasizing over his outfits and accessories but one last thing: His thigh straps. Diluc wears that in literally ANY of his outfit. You can’t help but wonder how he puts on and takes off that thing everyday…Hmmm how about sliding your hand into it and give it a try?

Diluc can swing his claymore (which is even bigger than himself) using only one hand. You are always amazing by how strong he is despite he never looks like he is strong. I mean just look at how slim and pretty he is. You wonder what it feels like to be pinned down by those slim-look yet secretly muscular arms.

Despite not being fond of alcohol, Diluc still enjoys making different drinks. He created a special drink just for you and told you if you forget the taste of it, he’d love to make it for you over and over again, anywhere and anytime. But guess what, this man loves teasing you and he will just drink it in front of you so there will be only one way for you to taste it.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin headcanons #genshin x reader #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader

[brownsugarwrites]

Magnolia.

❥ pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

❥ warnings: none, fluff, suggestive (if u squint).\

❥ wc: 1.5k

It was the hottest day of the summer, and of course, your mother planned for your family’s BBQ to be hosted today. 

Sitting at the vanity, you applied blush to your cheeks, sighing as you gazed at your reflection in the mirror. Setting the makeup down, you put the white bow your mother made for you in your braids before raking a hand through them.

“Honey, the guests are arriving! Come down ‘ere and help me take the food out,” your mother called. 

Telling her you were coming down to help, you slipped on some white heels before leaving your bedroom. 

The sounds of your shoes could be heard as you descended the steps into the kitchen to help bring out the small finger food outside to the garden. 

“You look beautiful sweetheart,” your mother praised, eyes brightening at your attire.

Giving a thank you, you picked up the platter to bring outside.

He watched as you brought the platters full of food out to the garden as everyone congregated. The sky blue dress clinging onto your hips with the white bow holding a bunch of your braids together. 

He knew exactly who you were. One of the sweetest girls in this little town the two of you live in. Watching as you bring out the magnolia bouquet to your mother to show her gardening club friends her newest accomplishment. He would think you’re as sweet as those flowers you're holding. 

Drinking from his glass of whiskey he listened as your father boasted about his oil company and how business was booming as the sweat dripped from his forehead.

“Here's some water, Daddy,” you said coming up to the group of men intruding into the conversation

“How sweet of you, sweetheart, thank you. I'm sure everyone knows my daughter. Just turned 21 not that long ago,” he beamed as he introduced you to all the men. 

Waving shyly, Arthur watched as the sun beamed onto you and a slight orange glow radiated off you. Eyes trailing down to where your pearls sat right above your breasts that were enunciated by your strapless dress.

My, were you a doll to him…Your pink glossed lips with the red blush adorning your cheeks. 

“--and this is Mr. Morgan, sweetheart,” your dad said introducing you formally to him.

“Pleasure to meet you, beautiful,” he said flirtatiously, bringing your dainty manicured hand to his lips as you blushed at his gesture. 

Hearing your dad scoff under his breath, he smirked in response. 

“I'll be back gentlemen. Have to tend to the wife real quick,” your father said to the group of men before leading you away to take you inside 

Watching as you looked back at him as you were being dragged away, he sent you a wink. Feeling your cheeks warm in response you turned back around before walking into the house 

Finishing his whisky, he sat his glass down before going to talk to the other partygoers. 

As the night went on he watched as you sat close to your mother as she mingled with the other wives. You sat idle checking your nails occasionally as you listened to the mothers talk about their sons and how they would love to meet someone as gorgeous as you. 

You looked uninterested and very bored with the conversation at hand. Scanning the garden full of partygoers you locked eyes with Arthur as he drank from his glass.

Looking away shyly you excused yourself abruptly from the group of women before walking away to make your way to the front of your estate. You walked to the front where all the carriages were parked as you walked over to the fountain. 

“‘Cuse me, miss,” you heard a deep voice ring

“Oh, well, good evening,” you greeted shyly, turning around to see Mr Morgan descending the porch steps.

Making long strides to get to you, he stopped right in front of you before tipping his hat at you 

“It's pretty dark out ‘ere, doncha think, sunshine,” he asked, looking into your chocolate eyes.

His voice was so alluring you had to fight to keep the conversation alive 

“Well yes, I suppose. I just needed to escape all the gossiping mothers,” you said before giggling. 

As the two of you made small talk he got a generous whiff of the gentle scent of the vanilla perfume oil that adorned your body. The rushing of the wind aids in your perfume filling his nose. 

“What do you do for your work Mr.Morgan,” you asked curiously. 

Biting the inside of his cheek, he thought of a good enough answer to tell you. Knowing your father probably told you something different than what he does to scare you away from him.

“I do a little bit of everything, sweetheart,” he said with a smile.

Giving a ‘hm’ you let it go for now. 

“You mind if we sit down by the fountain,” you asked wanting to take the pressure off your feet that heels gave 

Inviting you to lead the way the sound of the heels clacking on the pavement as you walked to sit on the marbled edge of the fountain before swinging your legs to the side and crossing them. 

Locking eyes with the handsome man in front of you with the scruff facial hair and dark, mysterious eyes you began to grow the slightest bit of nervous. Your father instructed you not to speak to him but here you were in your family's courtyard talking to the man you weren't supposed to be conversing with. 

It was thrilling.

All the men your mother brought around weren't as mysterious as the man sitting in front of you. You wanted to learn more about who he was. 

“Might I say, you’re gorgeous.” he complimented breaking you from your thoughts 

“Why thank you, Mr.Morgan,” you said shyly before playing with your loose braid looking down as your cheeks heated in embarrassment

“You can just call me Arthur, sugar.” he corrected you before putting his hand under your chin so that your eyes could meet again

Gulping in nervousness, you avoided his gaze not wanting to get under whatever spell he was trying to put on you. He was a gorgeous man, and he knew it. You were captivated by him.

“No need to be nervous sweetheart I won't hurt ya” he laughed noticing your wandering eyes before scooting closer to you 

Hearing your breath hitch under your breath he smirked. You were adorable, seeing how you got shy under his gaze made him want to test the waters with you. Not caring what your father had to say 

“Hey, look at me,” he said gently but with some bass in his voice 

Eyes flickering up quickly at him your eyelashes fluttered and you peered into his dark eyes. Bringing his head closer to your neck he laid gentle kisses on your supple skin hearing the low mewls you gave of satisfaction. 

“M’daddy said ‘m not supposed to be talking to you, Mr.Morgan.” you hiccuped.

“I told you to call me Arthur sweetheart and aren't you old enough to make decisions for yourself?” he responded as you felt his breath fan over your neck 

“Well yes, but I dont wanna get in trouble, sir,” you explained before clearing your throat

Grunting softly at you calling him ‘sir’ he asked if you would like him to stop his teasing ministrations 

The thoughts about your father flew out of the window. To hell with him. 

Whispering a no you felt him attack your neck before kissing down to get to your collarbone. Leaving light kisses along it, you sighed in pleasure feeling his soft lips upon your skin. 

Pulling away he looked into your shimmering eyes that captured the moon before bringing your face towards his to kiss you

“Sweetheart are you out here-?” you heard your father's strong voice ring out 

Eyes shooting open you quickly came back to reality before standing up and fixing your dress

“‘M right here Daddy what's wrong,” you asked curiously 

“Your mother told me you’d been gone for a moment. Just was checking on ya.” 

Seeing Arthur still sitting along the edge of the fountain he looked back at you in confusion

“He’s not messing with ya is he sweetheart?” your father asked becoming protective over you

“No, Daddy he's not. He came out to check up on me” You reassured your father 

Giving him a side eye he left it alone before telling you that you needed to come in soon as the party was dying down for the night. Telling him ok you quickly waved him off before going back to Arthur 

“‘M sorry bout that Arthur-” you apologized

“‘'s fine, I should get going, sweetheart,” he said while fixing his hat on top of his head 

Swiftly giving you a kiss on your lips your eyes fluttering in response you kissed him back before throwing your arms over his neck and propping a foot up as you felt his rough hands go down to your hips to keep you steady 

Pulling away, you gave a shy giggle before bidding him goodnight.

“Write me some time, ya hear?” he chuckled before letting you go and kissing you on the cheek 

“I-I will!” you exclaimed with a big grin on your pretty face. “Good night, Arthur!” 

He watched as you scurried as fast as your heels took you back into your estate before looking back sending a shy wave and closing the front door.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x you #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption fanfic #arthur morgan rdr2

[romanoffsbish]

Unconditional Kind of Love

Natasha Romanoff x Stark!Reader (afab)

Pronouns: She / Her to They / Them

Request / @mostlymarvelsstuff was my guide. 🥰

A/N: Hello angels!!! So I worked on this fic with an insider to guide me, and I just wanna be transparent here and say I did my best to navigate the struggles one goes through when in such a closeted space. But I also know, from experience, that the title non-binary isn’t one size fits all. Some afab individuals label themselves nb, go by they/them then still remain outwardly feminine as that’s how they wish to present themselves(identity and expression aren’t mutually exclusive). So, I know not everyone who is nb detests wearing dresses. I chose to just write this from the perspective of someone in an ever changing headspace. However you exist is valid, but for the sake of this fic I tried to just keep with the flow of understanding oneself/coming out.

Warnings: Coming Out (Fear/Grief)

It was a beautiful morning; the birds were chirping, likely grateful for the clear blue skies the budding Summer had afforded them. The bright sunlight was slowly filtering into your room through the cracked open blinds as time tediously passed on by. Lines of otherwise unseen dust were now illuminated as they flickered throughout the air. There was only the soft sounds of snoring as you laid there, your lover on your chest, it was relatively perfect.

There was no visible reason for you to be feeling this low, but immense dread had settled deep in your stomach as you read through an email.

Stark Charity Gala Reminder:

Hey honey, I had Happy leave a few dresses for you to try on, please let me know which one you prefer, and I’ll have it tailored to your needs.

You didn’t know how to tell him your needs were based on the disappearance of said flowy fabric…

—

Sure, you could tell him, but you were paralyzed by your fears that he’d expect it anyways. That your comfort wouldn’t come before business, so you chose not to mention it. As progressive as the world has become, you know your father works closely with some wealthy men, most of whom were up there in age; in your experience they weren’t all that big on the changing times.

This wasn’t always how you felt, but as of late, you’d really felt an aversion to the expected attire at your father’s many various events. In your day to day you could wear as you pleased, which is really just whatever attracts the least attention. Unwelcome comments on your appearance only ever made you feel more removed from reality.

Your father meant well, you know he always did, but it didn’t change the fact that he was not the most attentive person, and therefore still saw you as the little girl in tutus chasing butterflies around the garden as a nanny tended to your needs.

Which truth be told hadn’t been the case for most of your adolescence, it had only started weighing you down though in the more recent years. Everyday you woke up to have your identity invalidated in simple ways, and with that came chipped away pieces of your soul. This unsettling feeling came with the territory of being closeted, you remember it well from when you initially dealt with your sexuality, and coming out hadn’t been any easier. If anything, it’s only become harder.

To look into your aging fathers eyes, and tell him that the person he knew was never the real you was daunting, and was something that made you think suffering in silence was the better choice.

You’d already lived a long many years as Y/N Stark—Tony Stark’s eldest daughter, and you didn’t exactly know how to be anything but that in an outwardly sense. It was all a bit intimidating, and so you lived in this cycle where you would build yourself up to speak your truth, only to lose the confidence when faced with the chance.

While being so deeply in your thoughts you failed to notice the woman on your chest moving about. The beautiful woman who’s held your heart in her very hands for years now, the same one who hadn’t a clue what your inner turmoil’s were like. Natasha was as understanding as they came, you knew deep down that she’d love you all the same, but the crippling fear of rejection never allowed you to utter the words, “I’m nonbinary.”

You’d yet to even speak them aloud, instead they swirled around your brain, amongst the waves of self doubt, being swept beneath the currents of ‘It’s safer to pretend,’ and ‘We can’t lose her…’

Natasha was staring up at you with a sleepy smile, the sun had fallen over your face it allowed her to gaze into your eyes in a way she normally couldn’t. The one tone color suddenly became intermixed with complementary ones, and in the moment she thought you’d never looked more mesmerizing. But her sappy expression soon melted into one of worry the longer she stared.

“Good morning,” she raspily greeted, a smile retaking up her face as she sat up to level her gaze with yours, “What’s on your mind my love?”

In a panicked move you surged forward, hoping to use your lips to distract her from pushing further, and it seemed to work as she let you guide her backwards until she laid flat on her back. You kissed her with urgency, as if her lips were enough to heal all of your broken pieces, and in a way that is exactly what happened. The turmoil returned to its vault, where it would likely live another day unsettled, but it would be okay, just as long as you had Natasha by your side.

“Breakfast,” you hummed as you slowly pulled away from her lips, staring down at her with a cheeky grin, and flexed brows. Natasha snorted, “You should’ve woke me up then baby, let’s go!”

Once you both entered the kitchen your lover dropped your hand so she could make her way over to her first love—the Nespresso machine.

“Lady Y/N!” Thor bellowed, startling you with his sudden emergence, “Would you like a poptart?”

With a wide smile you nodded, accepting the sugary breakfast from the God, but once you turned around to face the drink counter your expression sullened, and Natasha noticed.

Natasha always noticed you. It’s been hard to keep up with you with her influx of missions, but she’d been around enough to know it’d been months since the light in your eyes faded out. In the privacy of your shared room you seemed content most days you spent together. A light flickered within your eyes in those moments. But now, it was as if you were living on autopilot as you moved through the kitchen, she watched you with a stoic mask as she sipped on her coffee.

“Squirt, can you pass your old man the salt?”

You genuinely smiled at him, and did as asked.

“Tony, are you serious? It was right there.”

“Yeah, well it was closer to her Pepper, sue me.”

There was a subtle tick in your jaw, nobody else saw it, but the redhead, also known as The Black Widow, the top spy of her generation, noticed it. A frown befell her face, one she masked with her mug as you approached her with swift steps.

“Hey Natty,” you greeted her with a kiss to her cheek, “I’m going to go take a shower, and get some work done while you’re in your meeting, but I’ll be sure to find you for lunch with Yelena.”

Natasha stopped you with a hand on your hip, she jutted her lips out expectantly, and you gave her exactly what she wanted with a soft kiss.

“Get a room!” Tony shouted with a grimace, and you chuckled against your lover, you didn’t have to see to know her hand behind your back held a middle finger up for your father to interpret.

When you walked away Natasha’s head began to spin with reasons for your dropped mood, but she came up empty and vowed to herself that she’d figure it out somehow. All she ever wanted was for you to be happy, and she would wade through hell or high water to ensure you were.

—

A grunt of displeasure left your lips as you kicked your mini wastebasket across your shared room. You were barely able to keep it together, it was clear Nat was onto you, and it’d only been two innocent in nature comments from oblivious men.

“Get it together Stark,” you grumbled before settling down at your desk to work on a project for Pepper as you’d been her assistant since Nat. A few frustrated tears stained your papers, but fortunately they only held data for you to key in.

After an hour and a half of half assed work you pushed away from your desk and waltzed into the en suite so you could finish crying it all out. You spent another half an hour under the water quietly sobbing until the heat faded into cold, then you cleaned up and clambered right on out.

In a matter of seconds you selected your outfit from your side of the closet, and slid into it. You’d settled on a pair of olive green khaki pants, with a black, button up shirt tucked into the bottoms. Your hair was slicked back, giving it a shorter appearance, and that made you feel giddy.

Yelena was expected to arrive at noon, and as you glanced at your clock you realized you only had a few minutes before, so you applied a thin layer of chapstick to your lips and made your way down to the living room where you found the pair discussing who knows what with your girlfriend.

Natasha heard your shoes scuffle against the hardwood of the hallway, her heart skipped a beat as you approached her with a reserved smile. One she would never tire of seeing, and she quickly pulled you into her side with pride as her sisters girlfriend was left to gawk at you.

“Kate Bishop, this is Y/N Stark, my sister’s long time girlfriend, and heiress of Stark Industries.”

Kate smiled nervously, hand trembling as she reached for yours, “Nice to meet you Y/N, I-wow, you look rather dapper if you don’t mind me saying so.”

Time stood still for a moment, you’d been so used to the compliments of others irking you that you weren’t used to this euphoria upon hearing something outside of the usual beautiful, or pretty. Natasha bit her tongue, she had a moment of understanding once she saw the way your eyes momentarily sparkled at the woman.

“Kate Bishop!” Yelena snarked, “Y/N is a —.”

Before the blonde could ruin the highlight of your year you raised a hand, effectively shushing her, “Thank you Kate, it’s lovely to meet you as well, you look dazzling in your sundress, it suits you .”

Natasha glared at you playfully, and you smiled back at her knowingly. “Hello gorgeous.”

“Hello my love,” she made sure not to comment on your appearance. A part of her felt guilty for not noticing the signs sooner, but it melted away as you kissed her tenderly, as if the prying eyes of hazel and chestnut weren’t right there.

“Disgusting,” Yelena gagged, “Let us go eat!”

“Ooh!” You clapped, “Where are we eating?”

Yelena hesitated to answer you, she knew your teasing would likely ensue, “Applebees…”

“Why?” You looked at the blonde with a smirk, “So you can have a Kraft kids meal?”

“What I’m ordering is none of your business!” She shouted, voice cracking as she did with her buff arms now crossed over her chest in defiance of her obvious predictability. “For your information, cyka, I love to have entertainment with my meals, you guys are too boring.”

“Oh, so the crayons do it for you?”

“Yes!” Yelena threw her hands up as if this was the most obvious answer, “There’s tic tac toe, word search, and coloring. With you two it’s just googly eyes, and talk of how work went.”

“Yelena, your girlfriend is coming too.”

“I know,” she whispered like she was telling you a classified secret, “She’s a little boring too…”

“I don’t know,” you spoke rather loudly, “Kate doesn’t seem boring to me, she seems fun!”

Yelena glared at you, then ran towards the car after shoving you into a tree. Natasha quickly helped you to your feet, raising her brow at you in subtle judgment, you shrugged. “So worth it.”

Natasha shook her head, “Yeah, until one of you kills each other, then I’m down a lover and sister.”

A smile of appreciation broke out on your face making the redheads heart flutter, for another moment in time you both just stared at each other as if the world had stopped orbiting the sun. But it was short lived as the hot ball of gas shrieked from the backseat of Nat’s corvette.

“Hey Poser! And Poser’s stupid GI Joe doll, hurry the heck up! Some of us have worked up mega appetites this morning you know?!”

Natasha looked to you in horror, but fortunately Kate was quick to quell her worries as she gingerly walked by the tree, “Yeah, we went on that five mile morning hike, I’m truly famished.”

“Slava Bogu,” Natasha murmured in relief in her mother tongue, her hand then slid perfectly into yours so she could now walk in stride with you.

(Thank God)

—

By the time the two of you returned to the compound you were exhausted. Lunch turned into a day’s worth of fun after Yelena begged the two of you to go mini golfing with them as well. As much as you enjoyed teasing the blonde, you also loved her to pieces and knew how exciting and new being in America was for her. So even if you wanted to say no, you truthfully wouldn’t. You could tell Natasha felt the same way when she looked at you for permission to agree to stay.

It was only 8pm, but the two of you snuck off to your room after hurriedly eating the stew on the stove Wanda had left for you two to reheat. After a joint shower, and a quick bedtime routine you found yourself snuggled into the redheads chest as an unwatched movie played on the screen.

The longer you laid there in her arms, replaying the day’s events while listening to the rhythmic beat of her heart the more you began to feel your anxieties melting away. Natasha had shown you time and time again that she loved you, and there wasn’t much of a question on if she’d continue to. The way she looked at you at lunch told you she knew enough, and when all she did was run her hand over yours tenderly before turning to scold her sister you knew you were giving the looming dread far too much power.

Natasha could feel your tears seeping through her shirt, but she didn’t say anything, she only held you that much tighter as she hummed a lullaby. You let out all the pent of frustration with each tear released, most directed at the world for putting you in such a predicament, some at yourself for all the years you lost hiding, and the rest for the family you still worried might leave.

“Natty?” You sniffled, “Ca-can we talk please?”

Natasha reluctantly let you out of her grasp so you could both sit up, the redhead sat against the headboard while you settled in the center of the mattress with your leg crossed over the other.

“What’s the matter my love?” Natasha’s tone was softer than normal, it also sounded like she was on the verge of tears herself, and that honestly terrified you. Maybe she was going to end things if you said what you planned to, but before you could shame spiral once again, you finally lifted your head up from your lap and looked into her glistening eyes, and you knew she wouldn’t.

“I-um,” you began to fiddle with your hands, nails picking at the sensitive cuticles until the redhead clasped her hands over yours. “It’s okay, you can tell me when you’re ready baby, there’s no rush.”

You knew that was her subtle way of saying she knew, and the fact that she wasn’t tossing you out of what used to be her room was the final confirmation you needed to speak your truth.

“I’m non-binary!” You blurted the words, and as you let them pass your lips for the first time a healing cry shortly followed. Your body racked with sobs, and Natasha pulled you into her lap.

Natasha coo’d, “I’m so proud of you baby,” she rocked you softly, and held you incredibly tight, “You’re so strong, and I’m so lucky that you trusted me with this, thank you so much baby.”

“W-we’re okay?” Your trembling voice and lip broke the redhead's heart, a tear finally fell from her eyes as she understood just how scared you were of her reaction. “Yes, we’re fine my love.”

Her lips pressed to your forehead reassuringly before they found their rightful home against yours. “You’re my soulmate Y/N, I love you for who you are, and I promise that’ll never change.”

A few beats of silence fell before anyone spoke again. “What does this change for you love?”

“I’m still figuring it all out Natty, but I,” you took in a deep breath to calm your racing heart, “I’d like to start going by they/them pronouns, and I don’t want to wear dresses to my dads stupid galas.”

Natasha chuckled softly, “That’s easy enough.”

“I don’t know how to tell him Nat, I’m scared.”

Natasha cupped your cheek, her thumb running across your cheek tenderly as she stared into your eyes. “I am with you every step of the way.” She pressed a firm kiss to your lips to seal her sentiments in completely. “I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

“What if it isn’t?”

Natasha shrugged, “It will be,” she smirked softly when you pouted. “Because, if he is anything but understanding I’ll just hack into his suits again like when he tried to say we couldn’t date.”

When you laughed unabashedly Natasha knew she’d done all that she was able to here. If Tony, or anyone for that matter, had anything negative to say when the time came, she’d handle them accordingly. For now though, all she wanted to do was hold you impossibly close, until you never questioned the strength of her love for you again.

——

2,975 Words

❤️ Kaitlyn 🥹

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff fic #natasha romanoff fluff #gxg #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #black widow imagine #black widow x reader

[captainsparklefingers]

I would like to draw attention, if I may, to the following line from today's section of Dracula, and why I find it funny on a few different levels:

"...That he be all in black, except that he have a hat of straw which suit not him or the time..."

Obviously, this is in reference to Dracula and his appearance as he makes his quick escape from London. I find it funny for a few reasons. First, and the most obvious, is that Drac is just wearing his typical attire, but with a straw hat, and it's so absurd to picture this guy all in black with this big straw hat to keep out the sun that just clashes with everything else about him.

The second reason is that it 'suits not the time'. Straw hats, during the time when men wearing hats was always done, were the hat of summer. You wore them during the summer season and when it passed September 15th, it was considered socially unacceptable to wear a straw hat anymore (at least in the US, I'm not sure about Europe). Think 'no white after labor day' but with hats.

So, Dracula is wearing this hat that looks silly on him because it doesn't suit him at all, and on top of that, he's breaking one of the unwritten rules of men's fashion. He just looks like a big ole goober on several levels, and I just really like the idea that in his panic to get out, he picked a hat to protect him from the sun (for some reason, it's not like the sun does harm to him, it just depowers him as previously established, but whatever), but instead of picking something that would help him blend in as a Normal Human Man™, he picked the one thing that makes him stand out and more memorable.

Plus, he's lucky that the worst that was done was people remarking that he looked like an idiot with his completely unsuitable hat. Those fashion laws were serious business! There was a whole riot in the 20s in New York because of straw hats (yes, really). Read the Wikipedia article about the Straw Hat Riot of 1922, listen to the Dollop episode about the riot...and then picture rapscallions trying to knock Dracula's already stupid looking hat off his head and smash it underfoot because he was wearing a straw hat in October, like an idiot.

#dracula daily #dracula daily 2: vampire boogaloo #dracula #dracula spoilers #seriously go read about these fashion rules they're so wild #i think the no white aftet labor day thing is a holdover from this time #the dollop episode about this (ep.129) is a hoot I highly recommend it #i don't know how serious these things were in the Victorian era but Stoker alluded to it so it has to have been a thing even then

[skylerchasesbooks]

A Guide To Dress Codes (Women)

Black tie, white tie; formal, semi-formal. Festive! Casual! Hitting the right note with attire can be confusing. Here are the details of how to dress appropriately for any occasion:

➪ CASUAL DRESS CODE: refers to clothing that is informal and comfortable, yet clean and professional. It’s best to go with nicer casual wear and avoid the baggier items you wear around the house.

Sundress

Long or short skirt

Khakis or nice jeans

Shorts (depending on occasion and climate)

Plain T-shirt (no slogans), polo shirt, turtleneck

Casual button-down blouse

➪ DRESSY CASUAL: A dressy casual dress code is a versatile balance between formal and casual. This is the ideal choice for networking (or socializing) after work, fundraisers, or dinner at a nice restaurant.

Dress

Skirt and dressy top

Dressy pants outfit

Nice jeans and dressy top

➪ SEMI FORMAL: A semi-formal dress code is best described as being more formal than what you would wear to an office, but slightly less formal than what you would wear to a formal event. Do keep in mind that if the event is later than 6 in the evening, you’ll want to err on the side of formality.

Short afternoon or cocktail dress

A “little black dress”

Long dressy skirt and top

Dressy separates

➪ BUSINESS FORMAL: A business formal dress code is characterized by a suit jacket with matching pants or a skirt. The darker the suit, the more formal. There are seasonal variations as well as matching accessories to personalize your look, but they should not be a distraction in any way.

Suit

Business-style dress

Dress with a jacket

Stockings (optional in summer)

Heels, low or high

➪ BUSINESS CASUAL: Casual business attire is pretty ambiguous, but generally means slacks, khakis, or a skirt with a dress shirt, blouse or polo. Dresses and seasonal sport coats fall into this dress code as well.

Skirt, khakis, or pants

Open-collar shirt, knit shirt or sweater (no spaghetti straps or décolleté)

Dress

➪ FORMAL, BLACK TIE AND BLACK TIE OPTIONAL: These events are among the most fancy of all dress codes, and you will likely be surrounded by a crowd full of tuxedos and floor-length gowns.

long, floor-length evening dress.

A very fancy dress that is not floor-length may also be appropriate.

Wear your hear in an elegant updo or partial updo

put on fancy jewelry for this occasion

I thought this would be helpful for whenever you're writing a planned event or even just for general knowledge. I'll post the dress code according to occasion for men next!

Thank you for all the follows and I'm glad the posts are useful! Do like, share and follow for more!

#writing tips #writing advice #dress codes #women wear #books #readers of tumblr #writers #daily life #bookaddict #writers on tumblr #dank memes #reader problems #book blog #booklover #tips #causal #business casual #dressy #semi formal

[thededebean]

His perspective.

It was just as busy as every evening on the subway. All the professionals are getting on and off the train at 5:00 p.m like me.

Most of the men are in their business casual attire, others are smartly dressed in suits and ties. Though definitely outnumbered, there are women leaving work at these hours as well. In order to fit into the 9 to 5 lifestyle downtown everyone has to look their best. I don't fancy myself as a fashion icon but I pay a good tailor to sharply customize my suits. Today is a suit jacket and button up with looser fitting dark slacks.

I hop on the train and find a post to hold on to since all of the seats are taken. I typically zone out after a hard day's work making sales and pushing paper. Corporate stuff.

Luckily there is air conditioning because on this hot summer day even underground, it can get extremely warm with all the people bumping up against each other.

I'm all the way at the end of the Green line so it'll take me about 45 minutes, the perfect amount of time to disassociate.

I let my mind drift thinking about a date I have planned for the weekend. It's always in the air how these things turn out. When I date I date for love and marriage. Though it's been awhile since I've had fun after breaking up with my ex. I reckon I could blow off a bit of steam.

As the train rumbles along, I find myself inhaling an intoxicating lavender.... Or maybe vanilla perfume in my daze. I have the urge to adjust myself, So I do. As I reach down my hand glides against the bottom of the person in front of me. I noticed that my cock has become stiff as I become more aware of my surroundings snapping back to reality.

I look down and notice the back of a blonde woman's head, not much shorter than I.

Realizing this is the person's ass I just grazed against, I lean down to apologize.

She looks back at me smiles and then continues looking forward.

Suddenly the train jolts as we go around a corner, and the blonde in front of me is forced crashing into my body with hers. I could feel our body heat mingle with sparks.

Looking around to see if anybody was in the same predicament, I noted that everyone else had recovered their positions from the jolt. But yet the blonde still kept her body pressed to mine.

I became hyper aware of our body's position over the next several minutes. The train was crammed, but this somehow felt more than circumstantial the way our bodies were pushing into each other.

I was holding the overhead bar but there was no place for the woman to hold on to so I felt like I needed to provide her stability.

I felt her hand grab onto my thigh while she faced forward. She wasn't pushing me backwards away from her. Every time we jostled her fingertips grabbed my body a little tighter.

Looking over her shoulder I found myself being able to see directly down her white button up blouse. Her cleavage didn't fully fill her cups. In each of them I could tell her body was aroused based on their perkiness. Her nipples were pushing through the fabric straight ahead.

Painfully aware my cock had been pressed against her bottom, I pushed my hips into her slightly to assure there is no extra space between us. She continued kneading my thigh and began to push back harder into my hips.

I glanced around at the still full train, No one seemed any wiser that we were occupied with each other.

The motion of the train was hiding or slick body movements cleverly.

At the next train stop in the shuffle of people getting on and off. She turned around to face me and we made eye contact quickly before she blushed and looked away.

She was now pushing her thinly clothed chest into mine. Her hand grasped my belt buckle as the train continued. Surely this would give her better balance. I stepped one foot around her stance to better support her as well. My cock, I could feel was leaking precum and my tummy was tightening with her fingertips grazing the inside of my pants. Every turn and bump she slid more hand inside.

Looking straight ahead my eyes became flittery for a second before reminding myself of composure.

Any second now the blonde could close the gap and have her hand play with me. This was driving me mad. This was so naughty and no one was the wiser around us. She was teasing me in a way I hadn't ever been. I was practically begging for her to touch my cock without saying a word. My hips instinctively started to rock and just as another big jolt happened she lost balance and I grabbed her hips to push her harder into me.

I slowly started to pull up her skirts so my leg could go in between hers now. The further her skirt went up the further her fingers went into my pants. She finally glazed the tip with her soft fingers and teased my cock head. Coating her hand with my pre-fun juice.

Her hips widened and she started to slowly grind on my leg. I bent my knee slightly so she could get a better angle for herself.

She kept her own pace and I could hear her breathing heavier with the friction. She lifted her hand out of my pants and licked her fingers like she had just taken her hands out of a potato chip bag. For all anybody knew that's what she was doing. Rummaging for spuds.

At the next stop, I once again turned her around to face away from me by grabbing her hips and twirling her.

She reached in between us and unzipped her pencil skirt part way down. It was my turn to get touchy inside her clothes.

I quickly moved my hand down the back of her skirt, untucking her thong from her crease. The further my hand went down the more bent forward she became.

I could have tried to straighten out her posture, but by this time I noticed a couple of tall men surrounding us.

I made eye contact with each of them who seemed to hungrily obliged to our goings on. I caught the man directly facing us in front of the blonde gaping down at her chest from his angle.

They were creating a sort of shield around us. I never performed in front of a group before, but this felt protected and mutually beneficial somehow.

I slid my fingers past her asshole and in between her lips. The trains rocking helping my quest to tease her like she did to me.

With her bent forward I was not providing much stability. She grabbed onto the waistbands of two of the gentleman to her sides. No doubt grazing the inside of their pants as well. She started off so shy with me and now held the attention of a blockade of six men.

As I continued to work my digital magic, never piercing her hole, one of the men snarled at me and motioned a thrust in my direction. I glanced around at the rest of the train, unzipped my zipper, pulled out my glistening rod from the hole and positioned myself to her entrance. I let the nature of the train take its course to assist with my penetration.

She was absolutely gushing as I filled her hole. The little slut. Her face was pushing into one of the men. She reached and unzipped his fly, springing his cock into her face. It took her no time to fill her mouth with his member. Just like that, an after work spit roast amongst strangers.

Both of us took turns thrusting into her. And the men on both sides started to use their hands to massage her. One reached underneath her hips and it other into her shirt from what I could see.

I felt her tremble and explode at least three times over the next several minutes.

I quickened my pace as I was getting closer to coming. She was deep throating the man in front, and started to choke as I went faster.

Short quick thrusts deep into her was all I could give and I exploded inside of her on the final thrust.

As we approached my final stop, I pulled out of her. And gave her my pocket square just as I was hopping off the train. As the door closed I noticed another man moving into my position. The train continues on the track back the way we came from. And I wonder...

Did she purposely miss her stop so I could fuck her?

#story

[newsplexn]

If you are looking for the best summer business attire for men near you, then your search is over. We bring you the best information you desire. Dressing for success is essential to making a professional impression in an office environment. They are easy to carry. Maintain your sophistication with the best summer business attire for men near you.

#summer business attire for men near you #summer business attire #business attire #men's summer business attire

[yubiina]

𝑈𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑔𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑓.

❝ I hope you find some peace of mind in this lifetime ❞

༻♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻♡༺

Pairing: Levi x reader

Genre: angst, s4 spoilers, postwar Levi, mentions of death, mental illness, unrequited love.

Summary: Even in joy i dwell in sadness, but my tears only flowed once i saw you. You saw the light in my eyes return while I saw yours fade.

༻♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻♡༺

The vibrant streets of Marley bustled with life, the laughter of young ladies dressed in their best garments and the clicking of heel shoes worn by the working-class men in suits that walked along side each-other, traveled through the warm summer air.

In this particular area of town, it smelled of car fuel and sweet bread pastry from a close-by bakery.

Levi's foot lightly tapped against the cobble stone, a habit he developed when he observed the flock of people walking past him, shimmering eyes caught the faces of smiling strangers that were too busy to notice him.

But the ones that did acknowledge his presence, however short that was, he noticed them.

He wondered what they thought of him. In that moment, was he just a unfortunate middle aged man bound to a wheelchair, who yells at the neighbourhood kids that dropped the ball in his yard?

Or perhaps some had pity because all they see is a tired soldier, who’s unfortunate fate was carved over him in stitched wounds that kept his face together, from scars to a harsh hand struggling to pick up a teacup with missing fingers.

Mabye a few others felt anger at a paradis soldier "dirtying" their holy land.

But he never cared too deeply for opinions, he wasn't specifically looking into the sea of people to have those questions answered.

He was looking for you.

When he started doing this, he doesn't know. He'd nevers pecifically looked for you ever during expedition days, but somehow always ended up catching your eyes. From then on he guessed it just became another bad habit.

Except now, you didn't emmarge from a dense forest, flying from tree to tree with sweat on your brow as you somehow made it back safely from and escaped the jaws of another titan for a day.

Now you appear amongst busy crowds, dressed in a pale, yellow summer dress along with your apron, it's edges covered in light embroidery, carrying a brown basket.

He spotted you, whether was because you just stood out to him in general or you happened to be wearing a bright colored dress that day, he always caught your distant figure walking down the same path from and to your home.

Yet he never cared for attire either, even if he enjoyed the light blues, reds and pinks you wore every spring and summer, they were not the things he particularly adored about you.

It was the soft smile that appeared through conversation.

It wasn't a simple smile in greeting, or a polite one either. It was one that adored your face whenever you talked to friends, listening intently in acceptance to what they're saying.

It was a smile you'd give to a child that would approach you in timid curiosity, a smile only a person who cared could have.

And so it made it him feel no less than a child himself when you sent one his way too. He'd watch it slowly appear as he carried on talking, only being able to describe it as a slowly blooming flower.

In a way, you were. One that tried surviving in an environment of chaos, placed in a toxic soil and your leafs chewed by bugs, leaning as best you could to any source of sunlight.

Yet you thrived in his presence, someone far from a bright flower.

Now you stretch your roots in fertile ground, bathing in sunlight and swimming in glistening water, cupping it with your hands and reaching them to him, as if you saw the potential of a rose garden in a dried weed.

And you certainly looked like one right now, comfortably seated under the tree shade, your light pink dress scattered across the green grass and the picnic blanket, watching Gabi and Falco banter in the distance, chasing each-other near the lake.

And while your eyes followed their running figures with a smile, the book he'd been previously reading had long slipped past his fingertips, eyes focused on you as they traced each feature and twitch.

Now he stood here, sat under the shade of a willow tree and observes how the lake illuminated the sun's rays back to him.

He remembers when you'd told him always found the shimmering lake beautiful, he also remembers how you turned to him and said it reminded you of his eyes, the same shine.

But he never had the courage to tell you why the only reason they shined was because of you. Because your eyes were made of stars and universes and when night falls, the water can only reflect back what the sky shows, the same beauty.

He remembers it well because it was the first time his heart flipped in a manner that wasn't out of terror or loss.

" What do you have there Y/N?" Gabi's curious eyes search your basket as you open the top, reveling it's contents. She gasps when she sees what you've prepared.

You calmly start pulling out a bottle of lemonade you'd made the previous day, along with the homemade sandwiches and cut up fruit.

" Please, help yourselves" you voice and eyes showered with pride while Gabi and Falco satisfied hemselves on your food.

But you always had to find a way to make him feel special, and he doesn't know if you do it purposely or it's just a lonely man's imagination to be someone's desire. Someone's extra thought.

You catch his attention by pulling out another bottle, filled with tea alongside a plate of cookies and red apples.

He stays silent as he watches you pour the tea into a teacup with a small smile on your face as you begin to speak to him. And although he can clearly hear you, his mind is somehow can't.

" I know you're not picky but I figured you wanted something you'd like, so I got you this" you finish pouring, gentle hands hand him the delicate teacup, and his twitching fingertips graze the handle as he takes it.

" Have whatever you want from here too, but I remember you said you liked them hm?" You mention to the freshly cut red apples.

With a frozen mind and still body, he only nods like he always does.

How can he not feel different when you make it this hard for him? He often wonders how much of a miserable life can someone live to be bashful by something so simple.

Even he cannot comprehend the life he's lived on his own.

And although he didn't allow himself to feel special, he indulged in your cooking everytime you gave him a chance to. That day he ate every slice of fruit you handed like his ears that eat at every word that moves last your lips.

He felt the gentle graze of your soft hands when you handed him a newly filled cup, just like how his eyes felt every emotion your face showed when talking to him.

You'd think that by now, having you as his caretaker would mean that he's gotten used to your cooking everyday. But with every meal you make, to him is like a gift. As if it's the first time you've made something for him.

Every morning and every night, he finishes his plate even when he's not hungry.

To him it's a stupid way of showing love, and judging by the smile you give him when you pick the plate after, it's a stupid way of love that you understand.

Since from the beginning, he'd been against you as his caretaker. It wasn't only the pride of a soldier, someone who'd been selflessly serving others wouldn't allow to be served the same way, but the pride of a man.

After all, who wants to be seen like a chore by someone they want to care for.

He hates you seeing him like this, not with being unable to move his leg in the morning, hissing at the cracking bones and aching muscles, and sometimes, not even skilled enough to pick up a spoon with a bad hand.

But like this, woken up by screams of terror, drenched in cold sweat and drowned in his own nightmares.

You're crouched at the end of the bed, hands between his face in an attempt to calm his racing heart, head hung low as you both can't look at each other in the eye, if you even could in pitch black.

He tries to distract himself with other trivial matters but can't find himself to. He thinks of how he met Onyankopon this morning on his way to work, thinks of Falco tapping Gabi on the shoulder to suprise her with a bouquet of flowers and hears her yell at him for embarrassing her with such acts in public.

He thinks of the young man that had began accompanying you every morning when you walk through the city. He thinks of your laugh and how your shoulders shake while the man gently smiles and tips his hat. He's handsome, tall and lean, wearing a black suit and polished shoes, he could only assume he has a bright future ahead.

An even brighter one if you're in it.

It's one of these rare moments, when Levi begins to feel insecure, scars and limitations his body has been given couldn't seem more noticeable than now. But he shakes it off, like he's done with everything.

The ticking of a clock brings back him to reality. Suddenly he becomes more aware of his surroundings.

He notices your sore legs shift to find relief in the uncomfortable hard floor you're sat on, hands still in his face, as if you're done this more times than once, and you have.

" Go rest" he bearly whispers. Not sure if it was to not scare you, or his voice was too strained.

" I'll see you in the morning"

You sit silent, you've done this long enough to know he always refuses to confront situations like this, and you keep silent for his sake.

Your thumbs gently swipe his skin, feeling dried tear streaks across his cheekbones.

" Do you remember the time I was running out of the forest" you whisper back, still not looking at him in the eye.

Again, you're met with silence.

" When my gear had broken, my instincts kicked and my legs moved without me thinking"

He remembers it like it's happening now, how he violently turned his body around when he heard you yell. Seeing you emarge out of the thick trees and towards him, body pushing no matter how far away you were.

" I felt the exhaustion in my lungs, the blood in my mouth and rush for survival, I ran to you"

He lifts his eyes up when he catches movement, your hands begin to shake as you lift up your face.

You speak his name with wobbling lips, you rarely ever did, insisting on calling him captain even today.

" I don't think I ever stopped running"

So much you could do for trying to keep his heartbeat calm, replacing the terror with words of promise.

" I'm not strong enough to even care for myself anymore, that's why I'm here with you, you're the only piece I have of my past"

Your tears are silent, quieter than his somehow.

" I try so hard everyday to keep you grounded because I see the light in you eyes begins to fade, and it scares me Levi"

" it absolutely terrifies me" you continue after short silence.

" I'm sad because at the end of the day, no matter how much of a normal life I live, it still haunts me. And I don't know how long I can take it"

" I can't protect you anymore"

" I don't want you to" you interrupt.

" I feel safe just because you look at me, my mind is too occupied to torment me further"

This sight of you terrifies him. It's a scarier view than his nightmares, it's when you let your smile drop, the life in your eyes fade as you shut out the world, and only open the door for him.

" And I try so hard to make this house feel like a home to you. I decorate, I pick flowers and dig plants, I open the curtains and wear bright colored dresses, just to give you something to look at"

His hands clench the duvet, fingernails white as he grips tightly on the sheets he'd spent sleepless nights in.

" But it feels like you're not even home yet. You're still in battle, one against yourself. That wether you win or lose, you can't come out as the same man you were when you entered"

Yet he feels you plunged the sword through his chest, give him rest as you take his place and fight for him.

You lean in and touch your forehead against his.

" At the end of the day, our friends live and breathe through moments like this"

" And if you can only find grief in happiness, if I can only connect to you in pain, then I don't mind doing so every night" a hand tries to wipe your tears as gently as he could in a moment of adrenaline, harsh skin brushes against yours.

" So if you can't find peace here, if I can't give you happiness through this life"

You slowly look up to meet his, terror and fear latched onto them. The first time you've seen him so tired and weak.

" Then I will make my heart your home"

You've long stopped crying, now drowned in each others soothing presence.

"Let's unite in grief"

#levi aot #aot #aot spoilers #aot fandom #aot anime #aot fanfiction #aot final season #aot imagines #levi snk #levi attack on titan #levi x reader #captain levi #levi ackerman #levi #snk #snk headcanons #the rumbling #eren x reader #eren aot #attack on titan eren #eren yeager

[beewolfwrites]

Olive Branch - Chapter Six: The Past

(Itasaku, Successful Coup AU) You can find the previous chapters on my masterlist at the top of my account page.

Another chapter! Both this chapter and the next focus on the past through flashbacks, and how the coup came to happen. I know some of the flashbacks are existing scenes from the series, but they will become more original at the end of this chapter and in the next one.

Thank you all so much for reading :)

___________________________

The bedroom was lit only by the waning moon and two candles on the bedside table. Sakura was sitting on the edge of her bed, bare toes against the carpet. She shivered in the evening breeze from the open window, unconsciously picking at the raw skin of her cuticles. All day, she had felt fine. Confident, even. But as the afternoon fell into evening, a dull sense of dread wedged its way into her heart.

It's just Itachi. 

She glanced at the window, knowing that he would appear soon. 

He's not going to do anything to hurt me.

Even so, the thought of that technique made her skin crawl. Her body hadn’t forgotten how it felt, all those years ago in that pitch black chamber. She had been blinded by darkness, the only guiding light a pair of vibrant red eyes that had easily pulled her into their depths. 

A part of her screamed that she was tempting the devil, that Itachi was a member of the clan that slaughtered her parents, that tortured her, and that she had no business getting involved in a plan like this, let alone allowing Itachi to use his genjutsu on her. However, another part genuinely wanted to believe that not all Uchiha were corrupted. Sasuke was her friend, regardless of his family. And so far, Itachi had never given her any indication that he would harm her. 

Come on Sakura, don’t give in to fear…

Standing, she walked over to the door. The hallway was cold — colder than it should have been. Upon entering the living room, she drew a sharp breath.

He was already here.

His silhouette lurked in the corner, slim and unmoving, his eyes glowing crimson. For a fraction of a second, Sakura was still trapped in that chamber, caught in the spell of those eyes and unable to look away even as her pounding heart urged her to run away.  

But then he stepped forward and turned on a lamp. The light slanted across his features, leaving one half of his face cast in an orange glow, the other masked in shadows. His expression was blank.

Sakura swallowed, taking a steady breath. ‘You're earlier than I thought you'd be.’

‘I made sure to finish sooner than usual.’ A pause. ‘Sakura, do you always sit around in the dark?’

She shrugged, feeling slightly more at ease with the small talk between them. ’It’s a waste to keep lights on when I'm not in a room.’ 

‘I see.’ He paused again, and she could feel his eyes carefully examining her. ’Are you sure that this is what you want?’

‘I'm sure,’ she said. 

He didn't reply. Before she could so much as blink, she saw three swirling tomoes morph into three jagged spikes. Her heart jumped and she stumbled backwards.

Calm down Sakura, he's not going to hurt you…

As the room melted into a blurred trance of colours, she vaguely registered a hand supporting the back of her head and a calm voice reminding her that she was safe. But this was quickly forgotten as she was sucked into a world of red, orange and black.

__________________________

A hot summer wind blows across Itachi's neck as he crouches, clad in full Anbu gear, on the roof of a weapons shop. He watches the scene below with caution. Two men are wrestling on the ground aiming drunken blows at one another. From their attire, he knows that they are civilians. With two hard punches, a tooth skids across the dust.

‘Please, someone!’ 

A civilian woman waves her arms amidst the crowd around her. Itachi recognises her as the owner of the weapons shop. 

‘Police! Anybody!’

Itachi considers intervening, but three familiar chakra signatures are fast approaching, and unlike Itachi, these signatures belong to police officers. Within seconds his father appears on the scene, flanked by two clansmen. They push through the crowd, Fugaku waving the audience away whilst the other two officers grab the shoulders of the fighting men and drag them apart.

One is handcuffed almost immediately. But as an officer places the cuffs around the other man's wrists, he shrugs himself free and swings his fist in a wide arc. It misses, naturally.

‘Goddamn Uchiha!’ He yells. ‘Get the hell out of here!’

The officer catches his wrist and twists it. With his other hand, he grabs the man's jaw, holding his face inches away from his own. 

‘Say that again,’ the officer hisses. His Sharingan burns. ‘I dare you. Say it.’

Despite being cuffed, constrained, and face to face with the infamous Sharingan, the civilian man scoffs through a bloodied mouth and a broken nose. 

‘Don't give me that shit. You can stop acting so self-righteous. We all know who was responsible for the Nine-Tails attack.’

The officer looks as though he is about to throw the man to the ground, but then Fugaku turns, his own Sharingan activated.

‘Take him to the cells.’ Fugaku's voice is cold and quiet. ‘Now.’

Dragged away by the officer, the man grins, displaying a set of glistening red teeth and gums. 

‘Touched a nerve, have I? I believe in karma, you know. You'll get what you're due one day.’

Whispers flutter through the crowd of civilians. Even from his perch on the rooftop above, Itachi is able to catch the gist of their hushed tones.

‘… Acting innocent.'

'Their clan district wasn't damaged nearly half as much as the rest of the village...'

‘Who do they think they are?'

'I guess the Second Hokage was right all along…'

______________________________

In one of inner chambers of the Hokage Tower, Itachi kneels on a tatami mat. His head is bowed out of respect for the four elderly figures sitting on the platform before him.

’It will not work, Hiruzen,’ Danzo comments flippantly. He eyes Itachi. ‘This technique cannot guarantee that the coup will be stopped. Even if it did work and Uchiha Fugaku was held under its influence, who is to say that this would sway the opinions of the other clansmen.’

Itachi grits his teeth. He knows perfectly well the distrust that Danzo harbours for the Uchiha clan. ‘If I may speak, Hokage-sama?’

The Third Hokage nods. ‘Please go ahead.’

‘My father holds a high level of influence over the clan,’ Itachi explains. ‘If he were to gradually stop his plans for the coup, I believe everybody else will eventually follow. If I may make a suggestion, a way to calm the Uchiha would be to provide the clan with a position of power in the village. A place on the council, for example. Or perhaps an equivalent.’

Koharu's outrage instantly fills the room.

‘Members of the Uchiha on the council? I will not hear of it,’ she snaps. ‘It is far too much of a risk. We already know we cannot trust them, otherwise we wouldn't be in this situation.’  

‘The Uchiha clan has been a longstanding—‘

‘Hiruzen, please! Do not entertain such a ridiculous idea. The Uchiha clan needs to be dealt with forcefully—’

‘Enough, Koharu!’ The Third Hokage raises his hand and Koharu quietens. ‘The Uchiha are old comrades in arms. I want to try settling things with words before violence.’ He pauses, mulling over the dire situation. ‘Itachi.’

‘Yes, Hokage-sama?’

‘Tell Shisui to go ahead as planned with the Kotoamatsukami. The sooner the better.’

Itachi inclines his head. ‘Very well, Hokage-sama.’

____________________________

Itachi stares hopelessly at the uchiwa fan on the back of Shisui's shirt as they both silently weigh up what little options they have left. 

Itachi had been waiting for Shisui at their usual meeting spot – beside the waterfall over the Nakano river. Only, Shisui had been late, and Itachi had discovered him deep in the woodland, horribly poisoned with fresh blood dribbling down the side of his face. Now, Shisui is looking down the cliff side, watching the waterfall as it crashes into the river.

‘It seems we can't prevent the Uchiha's coup d’etat,‘ he murmurs. ‘If internal warfare breaks out in the Leaf, the neighbouring countries will invade and there’ll be another war.’ 

It was the truth. Somehow, deep down, they both knew it would come to this.  

‘I was planning on using Kotoamatsukami to stop the coup, but Danzo stole my right eye. He didn't trust what I was trying to do, and he'll resort to anything to protect the village. He'll probably come after my left eye too.’ 

Shisui finally turns to Itachi, his expression resolute. 

‘Before that happens, I want you to have it.’

‘Shisui—'

Itachi holds back a grimace as Shisui’s fingers close around his left eyelid. There is a squelch of blood and a hiss of pain, before Shisui painfully removes his eye and holds it out in his closed fist. 

‘You're really the only friend I can trust. Protect the village, and the Uchiha name. Both of them.’

Itachi extends a hand and reluctantly takes the eye. It’s warm in his palm, and he can feel Shisui’s comforting chakra radiating from it. 

‘But I…'

‘This isn't the only thing that I need to give you,’ Shisui says. ‘I'm going to give you a new power too. The Mangekyou Sharingan.’

Itachi freezes. The Mangekyou Sharingan? Such a rare form of the Sharingan with such an incredible cost. He already knows what this means for his cousin, but the thought is too much to bear. 

‘Shisui...You can’t.’

‘I'm not going to last long in this state anyway. Take it as a gift. My final wish.’

Itachi doesn’t know what to think. How had things come to this? How had they let things escalate this quickly? His thoughts are all consuming, drowning out everything else. 

‘What's with that face of yours?’ Shisui teases him lightly. 

Caught off guard by the comment, Itachi’s thoughts grind to a halt. Unperturbed, Shisui places a hand on Itachi’s shoulder.

‘Even like this, I can still see your face easily you know. A worried expression just doesn't look good on you. You must always remain calm. That's what Uchiha Itachi is. I'm positive you can do this, so don't worry. It’ll be fine.’

Itachi lowers his head, squeezing his eyes shut because what else can he do but accept this decision? This awful, awful decision. The eye has become a deadweight in his palm. 

’I will carry on your will for the Uchiha clan.’

Shisui gives him a bitter smile. ‘From now on, you may be forced to walk down a long dark path. One that's filled with suffering. I have to apologise that I can't be with you through it all. Still, I hope you don't stray from your path, and keep moving forward as a leaf ninja. I believe in you.’

Itachi clenches his jaw as his throat grows tighter by the second.

‘That is why I'm able to ask you to carry my will,’ Shisui continues. ‘And the Mangekyou.’

He takes a deep breath, but to Itachi it is closer to a sigh of relief. The future is such a heavy burden, and they’ve shared its weight for far too long. 

‘Thank you,’ Shisui says quietly, ‘for everything. I guess this is the end of the road for me, but this will pave a new path for you and give you a new power. You can do it. I know you can… I leave the rest to you.’ 

He pauses, and although it is a mere few seconds, to Itachi it feels like an endless void. 

‘If I die, many things will change.’ Shisui backs away slowly. His feet are mere centimetres from the edge of the cliff face, his voice almost a whisper against the roar of the waterfall. ‘I've already left a note.’

The reality of the situation crashes down on Itachi, and the tragedy is too much to bear. 

‘Shisui, wait!’

‘Don't try and stop me, Itachi.’ 

There is a moment of emptiness. A silent second. Then Shisui’s body tumbles over the edge.

Itachi leaps forward, stretching out his arm to grasp Shisui's shirt, his wrist, anything that could be used to haul him up. 

‘Shisui!’

Seconds of silence pass before a wet crack echoes. Itachi draws his eyes away. He has seen death. He has seen war and bloodshed. He watched helplessly as his old genin team were slaughtered before his eyes by a masked stranger. But right at this moment, he cannot bear to look.

Suddenly, his eyes begin to burn and sting. Wetness trickles down his cheeks as his vision becomes unerringly precise. The Mangekyou. This is Shisui's gift to him.

‘Rest in peace, Shisui.’

______________________________

Itachi is sitting beside Sasuke on the engawa when he hears raised voices from the entrance of their home.

‘Is Itachi here?! We need to talk! Come on out!’

Itachi ruffles Sasuke's unruly hair as he stands and makes his way through the house. Two Uchiha clansmen are lurking by the front door. One man has greying hair whilst the other is far younger. Over their shoulders, Itachi can see a third man hovering behind.

It is the youngest who speaks first. ‘We get that you've been busy working for the Anbu, and your father tells us repeatedly that he's watching over you.’

‘But we don't plan on treating you any differently because of that," the man with greying hair finishes.

Itachi sighs. ‘Why are all of you here?’

‘There were two people who didn't show up at yesterday's meeting,’ says the elder man. Itachi recognises him as a prominent officer in the police force. But before Itachi can reply, the other speaks up.

‘Why didn't you come?’

The words are laced with accusation and Itachi knows exactly what is being insinuated. He has been under suspicion for a while due to the fact that he avoids attending clan meetings. This isn’t the first time he has been questioned about the matter. His father made it very clear that his avoidance was unbecoming, especially as the heir.

‘I understand,’ Itachi replies. ‘I will be more careful in future. Now, I'm going have to ask you to leave.’

This has little effect on the officers, who openly scowl. 

‘All right,’ the eldest says slowly. ‘But first, we want to ask you some questions about something. It’s about Uchiha Shisui, who died after throwing himself into the Nakano River last night.’

Itachi keeps a still expression. Of course, it was only a matter of time before they approached him.

‘And we, the police force, have chosen to launch an all-out investigation.’

‘Investigation?’

The young man is staring at him curiously. ‘If my memory serves me right, you looked up to him as if he were your own big brother, no?’

Itachi feels his chest ache at the thought. Of all the things to remind him of… ‘Is that so? I haven't seen him recently. His death is truly unfortunate.’

The eldest officer reaches into his pocket and draws out a folded scrap of paper. He holds it out to Itachi. 

‘This is the note left by Shisui. The handwriting analysis proves that it's definitely his.’

Itachi gingerly takes the note. ‘If there's no sign of murder, why is it that you're investigating?’ His eyes scan over the familiar writing.

'I have wearied of my duties. As it is now, the Uchiha has no future, and neither do I. I can no longer follow the path.’

‘I find it hard to believe that somebody like him,’ the youngest says, ‘a shinobi who would take on any mission for the sake of the clan, would leave a note such as this and then commit suicide just like that.’

There is silence as Itachi stares at Shisui's handwriting. A torrent of emotions flow beneath the surface, but it would be improper for him to display them right now. Instead, he closes his eyes briefly and swallows, ignoring the lump in his throat. 

‘It is not wise to judge others based on your preconceptions and by their appearances.’

‘That may be. But we also know that it would be easy for somebody with the Sharingan to mimic Shisui's handwriting.’

As Itachi reads Shisui's note over and over, savouring the last connection he has to his cousin and best friend, the officers continue to explain their suspicions. Itachi barely listens. He knows their true motive for turning up at his doorstep.

‘So,’ the youngest proposes, ‘we ask that you give the note to Anbu and request their assistance in this investigation.’

‘Understood,’ Itachi answers simply. As the three men lumber away from his front door, Itachi’s control slips as his Sharingan activates. His fingers clench around Shisui's note. ‘Why don't you come out and say it? You all suspect me, do you not?’

The three men stiffen and turn, their eyes glowing red.

‘Yeah that's right, you little punk!’

Within seconds, Itachi darts forward and grabs at their throats. It is no strain on his part. They are no match for his impressive strength and tact, and when he is finished with them they lie panting on the ground.

Itachi stands over them, fists clenched white. His resentment for the clan, for his father, for himself for allowing this to escalate, he feels the pressure welling deep inside like a dam ready to burst. 

The eldest officer shakily attempts to raise himself from the ground, but he only manages to sit up a couple of inches before his arms give way. 

‘Shisui was told to keep an eye on you.’ Blood dribbles from his lips. ‘It's been six months since you joined Anbu and your recent actions and words are more suspicious than ever. Just what are you thinking?’

Itachi watches them with disgust. The words slip out before he can stop them. ‘It's always “the clan this”... “the clan that”... You all inadequately measure your own capacity, and then fail to see the depth of mine. Now, you're lying before me, defeated. Like I said earlier, it isn't wise to judge others based on your own preconceptions. You assume that I am patient, and so you underestimate me. You hold onto the organisation, your clan, your name, but these are all things that limit us and we should detach ourselves from such trivial things.’

Knowing that they will never see beyond the limits of their bias, he watches their expressions shift from anger to bewilderment. But before he can lash out once more, a voice swiftly cuts in.

‘Stop! Itachi!’

Fugaku is standing in the street before them. He is dressed in his police uniform, having returned home from work.

‘That's enough! What’s going on? Itachi, you haven't been yourself lately.’

‘Nothing is wrong,’ Itachi replies smoothly. ‘I am simply carrying out my duties.’

His father's expression flashes with shock as Itachi spins on his heel, launching a kunai at the compound wall. The kunai splinters the rock, leaving a large crack across one of many uchiwa fans painted along its surface. 

Before he can stop himself, Itachi mutters, ’I have lost all hope for this pathetic clan.’

Scuffling and groaning, the three men get to their feet, immediately taking their places beside Fugaku as they carefully scrutinise Itachi's every move. 

‘That's enough. Keep this up and we'll throw you in jail.’

‘You lose sight of the things that are most important to you when you adhere to something as insignificant as the clan.’

‘I've had it!’ the youngest exclaims. ‘Captain, give us orders to arrest him!’

Itachi's anger courses through his limbs. His eyes start to prickle, and with startling clarity he realises that the unfamiliar sensation is in fact the Mangekyou threatening to activate. A part of him no longer cares. The clan deserves its fate. And yet, just as Itachi’s control begins to slip further, a small voice reaches his ears.

‘Big brother! Please stop it!’

Sasuke is peering at him from behind the doorframe, eyes are brimming with tears. 

His baby brother. 

Itachi drops to his knees in defeat as his heart swells with guilt. He hates the thought of Sasuke seeing this side of him, but at the same time, he needs Sasuke to know, to understand the reality of the Uchiha clan.

The cobbles are warm in the sunset as he bows to his father and apologises for his words and actions. He understands that his actions were a mistake. He had become lost within his rage. 

And yet, deep down he is glad that Sasuke saw. One day, Sasuke would come to realise just how shallow this clan truly is. 

_____________________________

Itachi can taste the storm brewing in the distance as he stands face to face with Danzo. They are at the edge of the woods, by the shrine gates that cover the entrance to Root. 

Itachi takes in Danzo’s frail appearance. He looks harmless, deceptively so, but knowing what this man did to Shisui makes Itachi's stomach coil. Even so, no matter how corrupt Danzo is, it cannot be denied that he holds the interests of Konoha above all else.

‘Despite what the Third Hokage said,’ Danzo begins, ‘when his hand is forced he will do whatever it takes to protect the Hidden Leaf. So far, words have failed to keep the peace.’ 

There is a pause, and Danzo’s single uncovered eye glints with something dark and mischievous.

‘I heard of your cousin's suicide. It is a great loss considering his prowess over the Sharingan.’

A cool rage sweeps over Itachi’s body like frost. The words are clearly intended to get under his skin, to trigger a violent outburst, and whilst nothing would have pleased Itachi more than forcing Danzo to face the same fate that Shisui suffered, he’s painfully aware that the Uchiha are already on thin ice. 

‘If the coup goes ahead,’ Danzo continues, ‘it will result in a civil war. If that were to happen, not only would there be countless losses within the village, but neighbouring countries would also take advantage of the turmoil and invade. To avoid this, the Third Hokage has no choice but to resort to violence in order to prevent the coup d'etat before it happens.’

Itachi’s breath catches in his throat. Danzo's eyes crinkle in pleasure.

‘I have called you here to present you with two options. Align with your clan and you will be slaughtered along with your family at the hands of Konoha's Anbu.’

A fork of lightning flashes across the sky. 

Sasuke.

As if reading his mind, Danzo explains, "Your brother is innocent, that much is true. However, if he were to be spared, it is inevitable that he will eventually learn of the Uchiha's plot. Should he realise that the village he calls home is responsible for the extermination of his clan, who is to say that he would not become vengeful and turn against the village? He would become an enemy of Konoha, and as a result he would have to be eliminated.'

There is a sharp sting in the palm of his closed fist, followed by the familiar stickiness of blood. His fingernails seem to have penetrated the skin, but Itachi welcomes the pain. 

Danzo will not touch Sasuke. If he even tries to lay a single finger on Sasuke… 

‘Of course, there is another option.’

Itachi waits for him to continue.

‘If you were to take the matter into your own hands, and exterminate every Uchiha aside from your brother, the fall of the Uchiha clan would rest on your shoulders. It would result in your becoming a criminal and living out your life as such. But your brother, Uchiha Sasuke, would be left unharmed and ignorant of the truth.’ 

A criminal? Him? He would never be able to live as Sasuke’s brother again. The thought alone sends a crushing pressure through his chest. However, he would live. Sasuke would survive. 

‘Uchiha Itachi, do you accept this mission?’

Lightning strikes once more, and Itachi sees clearly the shadows lingering behind Danzo’s lone eye.

He does not answer. He can’t just yet. And so, he walks away.

______________________________

The midday sun washes over Itachi’s skin through his shirt. The feeling is divine, and if not for the cage of thoughts plaguing his mind, he would feel at peace. He is perched on the roof of the Hokage Tower, wondering how he can even begin to choose between the village and his clan.

His mother… His father… No matter which of Danzo’s options he chooses, their deaths are inevitable. Shisui entrusted him with the task of finishing what they started, but instead he has failed as a friend, as a cousin, as a clansman. 

He has failed as a son. 

Suddenly, there is a terrible crash and the Hokage Tower shakes violently. Itachi has to grip the edge of the rooftop to keep himself steady. 

And then he sees it.  

An explosion. 

Several explosions light up the village, three in total, and Itachi's heart pounds with dread as distant screams and yells fill the air. The clash of kunai reaches his trained ears, and all around him, Konoha shinobi dart across rooftops towards the sites of the attacks.

The houses, shops and market stalls… all engulfed in flames. Nausea churns in his stomach. To anybody else, it would look like an outsider attack on the village, but Itachi knows better. His gut feeling is never usually—

His body is blown backwards, a wave of heat singing his skin and hair, as an explosion racks the street in front of the Hokage Tower. 

There is a moment of weightlessness, before he crashes through the roof, landing in a heap of hot broken glass and blackened wood. Grimacing, Itachi manages to climb to his feet. Pulling hot shards of glass from his arms and legs, he pushes the throbbing pain aside and surveys his surroundings. 

He is in the middle of an unlit hallway, dust falling in a halo around him. He looks up, realising that just above his head, a chunk of the roof has been blasted away. All around him the tower is alive with the muffled footfalls of Anbu running to protect their Hokage. Hopping back onto the roof through the hole, Itachi's heart sinks at the sight of the village.

Chaos. 

The village has been reduced to chaos. 

Civilians shriek as katon jutsu sear through the streets. Itachi can identify members of the Uchiha clan dotted around, grinning at the sight of the damage. Blood is splattered across the buildings as determined Konoha shinobi attempt to rescue civilians whilst engaged in combat.

‘Uchiha-Taichou!’ 

Itachi only vaguely notices as one of his clansmen appears on the roof beside him, Sharingan activated. The man is looking at him with a guarded expression, but his eyes shift to Itachi's forehead. 

‘You’re bleeding, Taichou.’

Itachi touches his forehead with his fingertips. When he pulls away, his fingers are covered in blood. Probing further, he realises that a foreign object has pierced his temple. He yanks it out to discover a small piece of metal.

‘What’s going on here?’ Itachi asks. He does not bother to hide his disgust. ‘This was not the plan.’

The man – whom Itachi now recognises as Uchiha Shota, a former Anbu – gives him a pointed look. Shota tilts his head and with two fingers, he effortlessly launches a kunai at the remains of the building opposite. With a wet gurgle, the kunai penetrates the throat of a Yamanaka shinobi who had presumably attempted to crawl into Shota's mind.

‘The date of the attack was moved forward,’ Shota finally replies. ‘Lots of us found your behaviour suspicious, so it was suggested that you weren't to be told about it. Fugaku-sama was reluctant but—‘

‘Where is my father?’

Shota grins triumphantly. ‘I knew it. People were saying that you were against the coup. Your parents refused to acknowledge it. They said you were stressed because you're an Anbu captain. But tell me, is it true that you attacked three of our clansmen?'

Itachi’s first instinct is to punch this man. He feels his muscles tense. 

‘Apparently they asked about Shisui, so you attacked them and denounced the clan. Despite what your father says, it's true isn't it? You're the enemy—'

Itachi's hand shoots out, grasping Shota by his collar and hoisting him up. ‘Like those men, you are trying my patience. Tell me where my father is.’

‘Tracking down the Third Hokage,’ Shota gasps, spluttering. 

Itachi knows the answer before he even asks the question. ‘To do what?’

‘Whatever it takes to win.’

In an attempt to remain calm, he assesses the situation in front of him. What should he do? His village or his family?

Sasuke. 

His fist tightens around Shota’s collar. ‘My mother and brother?’ 

Itachi's forearm stings where Shota is clawing at his wounded skin. It didn’t matter. Should anything happen to Sasuke, he would never forgive his father. Shota's answer is a warble of strangled words. 

‘The Uchiha children and elders are hidden beneath the Nakano shrine. Mikoto-sama is with them.’ 

Itachi lowers the man to the ground, only slightly relieved by the knowledge that his mother and brother are safe for now. With that matter out of the way, Itachi knows that he has to stop this madness somehow. But he barely has a chance to consider his next move, as Shota coughs and speaks. 

‘I came to find you because Fugaku-sama sent me. He wants to give you a message.’

Itachi’s eyes blaze as his Sharingan sears into the Mangekyou. 

‘What message?’

Shota's lips curl into a wicked smile. ‘Pick your side.’

#itasaku #itasaku fanfiction #itachi x sakura

[gainprincess]

THUD. THUD. THUD.

"..."

The heavy footfalls of Tomoe Gozen are not unusual within Chaldea. They're not very common at this time of day, since Tomoe is usually inside of the Rec Room at this hour, but they are still not unusual.

She is making her way to the summoning chambers, fully clad in her armor. It still fits well enough around her obese frame, and it feels more proper than her summer attire for what she assumes is an incredibly serious event. Many people have been talking about her this weekend, and she is VERY concerned that something bad will happen to her.

Thud. Thud. Thud....

"...Gh."

She has arrived. The summoning chambers are unassuming, but nonetheless intimidating. Especially since Master is busy preparing something for Mash, therefore leaving the one in charge...

"Hiiiii, Archer!~ Are you excited for some summoning?~"

BB is the one most experienced with Chaldea's summoning system after the Master themself, and thus has been granted this singular responsibility (only when the Master is gone, and only under the supervision of DX and Xiang Yu). She actually also volunteered this idea, so she was given the chance to oversee it herself in addition.

"Unfortunately, BB-dono...No. No, I am not. I am rather on edge, thanks to all this secrecy...Is Tomoe in trouble?"

Tomoe fidgets from side to side as she stares at the summoning circle, the inert Round Table, the Crossroads of Heroes...It's beautiful, in a way.

Terrifying, in another.

"Wh- No, you're not in trouble, who told you that?! I just want you to be here for our next Servant summoning! It's a special one! Jeez, people are fucking terrible at communication here...."

"A-Ah...! I can certainly do that! Yes, let us summon away!"

Tomoe's smile is gentle, as her nerves are assuaged. Surely it must not be so bad, if it is something as simple as that!

As BB fires up the Summoning Circle, she thinks on who could've warranted her being there. Maybe someone dangerous? One of those detestable Genji? No, if it were, they wouldn't have called someone so quick to rage to guard.

The lights swirl, and Tomoe shifts her weight from one hip to another in thought.

The lights flash a brilliant rainbow, and Tomoe shields her eyes with a gauntleted hand as the overwhelming birghtness subsumes the room.

SHWWWIING!

The telltale sound of a Servant's appearance blasts into the oni woman's ears, and she slowly lowers her hand to take a look at the new Servant.

"...Servant. Saber."

"....!"

Armored sandals, like those of a warlord. Of a man who fights alongside his men, for the sake of his ambitions.

"I have come in response to your summons."

A blade that is all-too-familiar to the woman, with a hilt that resembles the very sun. Wielded by him in many battles, where the blade blazed with the force of a million men.

"As your Servant, I pledge myself to your cause, so long as it is righteous."

Pure-white armor, with a large winged shoulder-piece. An insignia over the middle, exactly like her own. (They had them fashioned together.) A padded blue tunic with sun logos emblazoned along it, signifying his title. She suggested that to him. What a silly idea, but he, like always, took her seriously.

"I am the Warlord of the Rising Sun, and the Bearer of Infinite Faith."

"...!"

Tchk.

His mask and helmet are removed in a single motion, as those gloved hands reach for them simultaneously. Pulled away in moments, leaving Tomoe to gaze in awe at a sight she has not seen for centuries.

"My True Name is Kiso-no-Yoshinaka. As a member of the Minamoto Clan, I swear my allegiance to my new Master....and, of course."

"I am overjoyed to see you once more...My dearest Tomoe."

"A-A-Ahh...Y-Y-Y-Y...Y-Y-Yos...Yoshin....Yoshinaka-s-s-sama....?! I...I...Ohhhh....!"

WHUD, SLAM.

"T-Tomoe?! Are you alright?!"

Tomoe's body, currently face-first on the ground, is practically steaming with how overheated she's become, leaving a very amused BB and a very concerned Yoshinaka alone with her as the curtain falls.

An eventful first moment in Chaldea...but surely not the last of them.

#temp!muse: tomoe gozen #muse: yoshinaka #i've been working on this all day #i just need his non-armored expressions and we're fucking GOLDEN #that's literally all i need for this to be perfect #also yeah yoshinaka's here weeEEEEE- #please like it

[dd20century]

The New Formalist: Edward Durell Stone

“A great building should be universal, not controversial.” --  Edward Durell Stone

New York Times architecture critic Paul Goldberger wrote in his obituary of architect Edward Durell Stone:

Edward Durell Stone's career as an architect was marked by a dramatic reversal of direction. He gave up a position as one of America's leading advocates of the International Style just as that austere modern style was gaining wide public acceptance, and he began instead to evolve a personal style that was lush and highly decorative, the very opposite of the International Style. (1)

This shift would be influenced by a woman, Durell Stone’s second wife, Italian designer Maria Elena Torch. As Durell Stone said, “Maria's fine Italian hand began to show in my attire and my work. Both began to move toward elegance.”

Edward Durell Stone on the right having dinner with (left to right) architect William Wesley Peters, Stone's then-wife Maria Torch Stone, and Frank Lloyd Wright. Photo credit: Charles Rossi.

Edward Durell Stone’s Early Years

Architect Edward Durell Stone was born on March 9, 1902, in the college town of Fayetteville, Arkansas. Durrell’s grandfather Steven K. Stone was a successful businessman, Durrell’s father “Benjamin Hicks Stone (1852-1942) graduated from Emory & Henry College, in Virginia, in 1873 and returned to Fayetteville to run his father's business” (2). In 1885 Benjamin Hicks Stone married Ruth S. Johnson, an English teacher. The couple “had four children, the youngest..., Edward Durell Stone” (2).

Young Edward showed early artistic promise. His mother encouraged him to take up drawing and woodworking. J. William Fulbright was one of Edward’s childhood friends. Fulbright would go on to become a United States Senator. The two men remained life-long friends. Stone attended the University of Arkansas in the early 1920s but was unsuccessful in all of his courses except drawing. His talent came to the attention of the head of the “university's art department, [Elizabeth Galbraith who] recognized Stone's talent and encouraged him” (2).

At that time Edward’s older brother James Hicks Stone was an architect practicing in Boston, MA. Elizabeth Galbraith reached out to the brother asking him “to take an interest in the boy” (2). Edward spent the summer of 1921 in Boston visiting the city’s architectural landmarks with James. The experience made an impression on the young Edward, leading him to his calling. In 1922 Edward moved to Boston and found work as an office boy at the architectural firm of Strickland, Blodgett & Law while he studied at the Boston Architectural Club at night. There Edward met architect Henry R. Shepley who hired him to work as a draftsman at Coolidge, Shepley, Bulfinch and Abbott. Shepley would become Stone’s most valued mentor. (2)

Edward Durell Stone, Radio City Music Hall, Auditorium, (1932), New York City. Image source.

Stone’s Early Architectural Career

“In 1925, Stone won a scholarship to Harvard University's School of Architecture” (2) and also studied at Massachusetts Institute of Technology. In 1927 Stone won the Rotch Travelling Fellowship which gave him the resources to study in Europe for two years. (1, 2) Stone returned to the United States he moved to New York City, just before the start of the Great Depression in October 1929, where he was hired by, “a consortium of architects designing Rockefeller Center. There he worked on what was to be considered his first major early achievement, the design of the interiors of Radio City Music Hall” (2).

 “In December 1930, [Stone] married Sarah Orlean Vandiver (1905-1988), an American tourist he had met and courted in Venice. The couple had two sons, Edward Durell Stone, Jr. (1932-2009), and Robert Vandiver Stone” (2).

Donald Deskey was one of the architects that Stone worked with on the Radio City Music Hall project. This association led to Stone’s ‘first independent commission in 1933, the Mandel House, in Bedford Hills, New York, built for owners of a prominent department store” (2). Deskey served as the interior designer on that project. (2) “The Ulrich Kowalski House, also in Mt. Kisco” (4) was built the following year. With the success of the Mandel and Kowalski Houses, many more commissions followed, and in 1936 (3) Stone established his architectural firm at Rockefeller Center (2).

Edward Durell Stone, Richard M. Mandel House (1935), Bedford Hills, New York. Image source.

Stone and The Museum of Modern Art

From 1936 to 1939 Edward Durell Stone worked on what Newsweek magazine called, "the first large museum in America to be built according to the streamlined, ultra-modern 'international' style of modern architecture."(5) The project was the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) in New York City. Stone collaborated with Phillip L. Goodwin. Stone served as design architect while Goodwin produced the architectural drawings. (2) During this time Stone was also designing a home in Old Westbury, NY for MoMA president Anson Conger Goodyear. (4)

In 1940 Edward Durell Stone drove across the United States. Traveling to Arizona and Wisconsin, he met with architect Frank Lloyd Wright. Wright’s use of materials and decorative patterning manifests itself in some of Stone’s later work. In San Francisco, Stone appreciated the use of natural materials used in regional architecture. His greatest takeaway from the trip, however, was his disappointment at how extensively Americans had marred the natural landscape. Quoting Durell, “I scarcely encountered a place where land was used wisely and where what has been built is beautiful” (6).

Edward Durell Stone's Service in World War II

As the United States had entered World War II, Edward Durell Stone enlisted in the United States Army Air Forces in the summer of 1942, “and was stationed in Washington, D.C. Stone entered as a captain and was promoted to the rank of major in November 1943. At his instigation, the Army Air Forces established a Planning and Design Section in July 1944” (2).

As chief of this section Stone was responsible for “the master plans for airfields in Alabama, California, Florida, Louisiana, Mississippi, and Texas” (2).  He also designed the Continental Air Command headquarters at what is now known as Andrews Air Force Base in Maryland. (2)

Edward Durell Stone, William Thurnauer House (1949), Englewood Heights, New Jersey. Image source.

Stone’s Post-war Work

After the war, Edward Durell Stone reopened his architectural practice. Most of Durell’s commissions during this time were residential. The most notable were the David Stench House (1947) Armonk, NY and the William Thurnauer House in Englewood, New Jersey (1949). (2) Stone’s homes of the late 1940s ‘indicated the increasing influence of Wright — his buildings became lower, more horizontal, and relied more on the use of wood” (1).

 His non-residential projects included the 300-room El Panama Hotel in Panama City, Panama, “notable for its pioneering use of cantilevered balconies in the construction of a resort hotel” (7). In 1948 Stone designed Fine Arts Center for the University of Arkansas in his hometown of Fayetteville, AK. The center featured works by Alexander Calder and Gwen Lux, friends of the architect. (2)

Postcard photo of Edward Durell Stone's El Panana Hotel (1946), Panama City, Panama. Image source.

Read part two of The New Formalist: Edward Durell Stone.

References

Goldberger, P., (7 August, 1978). Edward Durell Stone Dead at 76; Designed Major Works Worldwide. https://www.nytimes.com/1978/08/07/archives/edward-durell-stone-dead-at-76-designed-major-works-worldwide-a.html

R. L. Skolmen and H. Stone, Edward Durell Stone: Life. https://www.edwarddurellstone.org/

Smart, G., (2024). Edward Durell Stone, FAIA (1902-1978). https://usmodernist.org/stone.htm

Wkikpedia.com, (7 February, 2014). Edward Durell Stone. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edward_Durell_Stone

"The Glass-Temple Museum: Modern Art Display Takes Over Own Building in New York," Newsweek (22 May 1939): 32.

Edward Durell Stone, The Evolution of an Architect, (New York: Horizon Press, 1962), 92.

Britannica.com, (n.d),.Edward Durell Stone, American architect. https://www.britannica.com/biography/Edward-Durell-Stone#ref81069

#edward durell stone #architecture

[kvroshiro]

Timeline: 2024 March 13th, Wednesday, 9:13 P.M., arriving in a private plane at the airport...  Locations: Tokyo, Beijing, Moscow, back to Tokyo. Mood: Focused. Attire: See above. Music: OCEANS AND STREAMS; The Black Keys With: @ambxxguous and @implixxit

Since the summer of 2023, Shiro had been busy taking care of business and monitoring the Chinese family [ the same one Eon got involved with ] that has ties with the Russian Mafia who continuously threaten the Im Clan and other small families not only in Japan but also in South Korea. Shiro traveled a lot mostly with Ji-hoon or Malchin, and a few trusted members of the family to negotiate, partner-up with his enemies’ rival family. But mostly, he traveled to investigate. There were instances that they got into intense ‘negotiations’ and had to clean their mess up. 

Shiro mostly [ at least tried to ] keep Enzo hidden and locked up, but he knew that wasn’t going to work while he traveled, leaving home behind. Purposely, he angered the young Drago, displaying his hook-ups that caused many fights [ mostly physical. ] 

One day before the holiday, he came home to his safe house and found his men all badly injured [ perhaps he left Enzo with his spare men ] and the young Drago gone...

Shiro continued to order his men to keep an eye on Enzo. He can’t do much at the moment since he’s occupied with family business and some trouble at the horizon. When things settled, he’ll deal with Enzo himself.

Tonight, he comes home from Moscow after meeting up with Lavr’s family. Once at the airport, Choi Mal-chin arranged them to travel outside of Tokyo. An important member of the Chinese Mafia fell under Im family’s custody and Shiro is to meet this person... 

#{ daily shiro }